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#which truth be told was pretty stressful but i was so filled with adrenaline i was not even freaking out i was just Doing

bvidzsoo · 3 years

Text

Late night Drifts

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: physical abuse (nothing descriptive); swearing

Pairing: Hansol Vernon Chwe x female reader

Word count: 18, 157

Summary: Being top of your class was everything your parents have ever wanted. You were the perfect daughter, however, it was only them who were happy. Your life was stressful and filled with sleepless nights studying, just to please your parents. Until one day you discovered racing, and realized, it was the only way you could unwind all the accumulated stress. And it just so happened that one day you overheard your classmate, Vernon, talking about an illegal race taking place that night. You knew it was your cue, so with rolled up cash left on his desk, you made it clear you were challenging him. He wins = he gets a date / You win = he teaches you how to drift.

A/N: Hello, hello lovelies! And off we go with the first part of this series! I tried out something different this time, I hope it’s not weird and it’s still good, I’m a little nervous about it tbh. All the sentences in italic are the reader’s direct thoughts! I’ve never written in second person before so uhm...I hope it’s still fine. I hope you’ll like it and please let me know your thoughts. If there are people interested, I could even start a Taglist, I guess! Enjoy now!

Series M.List ~ Next Part

When younger, you’d quietly complain to yourself about having to wake up early in the morning, around 6 am, just to have breakfast with your parents; but as the years passed it just became a routine. You weren’t bothered by it anymore, sometimes, you’d even wake up earlier than you were supposed to. Like today, at 5:30 am, your eyes were wide open as you stared up at the platinum white ceiling of your huge bedroom. You knew it was the anxiety making you feel like this, the fear of having to face your father and mother today seemed to be more intense than usually, after all, you were getting your grading sheet at school. You hated days like today, you hated getting your grades. It was horror to sit through school, anxious, only to return home to get yelled at by your father, because once again, you failed to score higher at English than Vernon. Vernon Hansol Chwe. He was your nightmare at school. It wasn’t what he did directly to you, because there were almost little to no incidents, it’s what he indirectly made you go through. You hated him, but didn’t at the same time. It wasn’t his fault, and you were aware of that, but you couldn’t help the glare or sudden anger that engulfed you whenever you looked at him. If he only wasn’t as good at English as he was, all the torment from your parents would’ve been non-existent.

You were the perfect daughter, the one every parent wished to have and every parent praised whenever they met up with your parents and you. You were perfect, in their eyes, yes. You always listened to what your parents said, you didn’t talk back or disobeyed them, and most importantly, you always pleased them and got high grades. It would’ve been a shame if you didn’t, your father was a scientist and your mother a doctor. They wanted you to become either this or that, but you, you didn’t know. You had no idea what you actually liked doing, you never really had hobbies or free time to try out different things like any other normal kid did while growing up. That is, until, you stumbled upon some abandoned race tracks and saw a woman in her car going at a high speed, drifting around the curbs, and sporting the happiest and most careless expression you’ve ever seen on someone’s face. It struck you, you never felt like that before. You wanted to feel like that so badly. You just ran away from home, with the excuse that you joined a new study group to help you out with Chemistry, but the truth was that you just needed air and time away from your overwhelming parents. You weren’t even supposed to be in this part of the city, people could smell from miles away that you were rich and just by stealing your purse, they’d make millions. But you didn’t care, because in this part of the city, it seemed like people only stared at your for what you looked like, without too judgmental looks on their faces. It was weird, but refreshing. After the woman stopped, got out of the car and ruffled her long hair, you gathered all your courage and walked up to her, and asked her to take you on a round with herself. She was reluctant, but once she saw the desperate look in your eyes, she obliged and you were inside her car, screaming your lungs out at all the sharp and harsh turns she took. It was scary, but freaking awesome. You felt high on adrenaline and when she stopped the car, her name being Lexa, you begged her to teach to drive like that. Your driving instructor never taught you about speed, but this woman seemed to know it all. Lexa was reluctant, but she complied once again, when she saw the desperate look in your eyes. And that is how you became obsessed with racing, cars, and chasing that adrenaline that made you feel free and careless. It was the only hobby you had, the only thing your parents couldn’t control in your life, simply, because they didn’t know about it. And you preferred to keep it that way, knowing well the repercussions if they ever found out. But for you to be able to attend the events and races, you needed a good car. So, when you finished last year as first in your whole high school, your father granted your wish and bought you a Vaydor G37. The car was expensive, but freaking awesome. You knew you’d be better than half of the amateur racers, even though, you were one too. But for now, that didn’t matter, as you played with your fingers in your lap, waiting for the maid to place your breakfast in front of you. You could feel your father’s sharp gaze on you, but you ignored it as you glared at the table. Your mother hadn’t joined the table yet, that’s why you weren’t eating yet.

“John told me he had to change the tires to the Vaydor,” You looked up to meet your father’s gaze, knowing he hated it when you didn’t, “It’s the third time this month. Explain.”

You gulped, but kept your expression neutral, he can’t find out, “I didn’t pay attention when I got them changed and instead of the summer tires, they put on the winter ones. That was the first time. Second time, I got a puncture while I rode back home from school, a screw was left on the road from the new construction site and I didn’t know. And uhm…I’m not sure what was wrong the third time, but the vibrations coming from the tires felt wrong, I thought…it would be best to get them changed.” But the truth was that you raced too hard and burned out your tires, all adherence gone, which made it impossible for you to ride around the streets with them.

Your father didn’t say anything as he looked at you with a hard expression, tying to decipher if you were lying or saying the truth, “Safety comes first, Y/N, don’t forget that.”

“Yes, father.” You muttered and looked up at your mother as she walked in with a wide smile. Your father looked at her and his eyes instantly turned soft and he waited until she sat next to him, to press a kiss to her cheek. He was only ever like that to her, kind and lovely, never to you. You honestly thought your father hated you because you weren’t born to be a boy, like he so desperately wanted. Yet, he never tried to have another child with your mother, you figured he had enough of you and just didn’t want to bother with raising another kid. Your mother looked at you just as the maids finally walked in with your breakfast, placing the plates in front of you. Your stomach rumbled quietly and it made your mom chuckle as your father took the first bite, and then you both followed suit. It was the same old breakfast: toast with boiled eggs, a few slices of tomato and butter. Sometimes you’d get hot cocoa, if your father was in a good mood, but most of the time you were served with orange or apple juice. Today, water with lemon was served and as much as you were craving the taste of oranges, a little switch from your usually boring routine was nice, even if so small and almost insignificant.

“When will you know your grades?” Your father asked again, voice hard and you bit your lower lip as you lowered your knife and fork.

“Today, actually.” You answered, trying to hide the tremor in your voice, but it was pretty obvious.

“Great, I will make sure to come home early then.” He said and the grip on your knife tightened as you tried to hide the anger and fear mixing together in your stomach, hating the words your father said. But it made your mother squeal as she smiled at him brightly.

“That’s amazing news, honey! Let’s go have dinner, shall we?” She was the only excited one, your father actually started glaring at you, and you realized it was because you were glaring at him. Sometimes, your control over your body slipped and you did things subconsciously.

“Yes,” Your father spoke, turning his head away from you to look at his wife, “Let’s go have dinner, Y/N should—”

“I have a study group at 18:00 today, I won’t be able to join you, I’m sorry.” You interrupted your father, not caring right now that he hated being interrupted by you, as you let your parents know in a hurry that you weren’t available today. And actually, you weren’t even lying. You really did have to study for English, you hated to say it, but you were feeling uneasy after your last exam and thought you could work on it. A new guy from America showed up two weeks ago, DK, and when you heard he offered to help out those in need, you knew you needed to sign up. Vernon was from America too, that’s why you never could beat him, he was better as he was fluent. Your mother was American too, but she never bothered to teach you much English, either too busy with work or with your father. She wasn’t a bad mom, just neglectful sometimes.

“You study so hard, my dear.” Your mother’s arm extended over the mahogany table and you extended your own arm, letting her grip it, “How about this…if you get a good grade for your English exam, we go on a small vacation this weekend?”

That actually sounded wonderful, you couldn’t help but smile, warmness filling your insides. You missed spending time with your mom, but of course, your father had to ruin it all.

“We shouldn’t…I can’t this weekend.” Of course, he couldn’t. The only important things for him were work, antagonizing you, and taking your mother on expensive dates.

“Honey,” Your mother let go of your arm to cup her husband’s cheek, “It’s not a crime if the two of us spend a little time together, it’s been long since we had a mother-daughter get-away, right, Y/N?”

You quietly nodded your head, hopeful that your father would let it slide this time, but of course, he wouldn’t, “If Y/N scores a 10/10, you can go.”

You gulped, hating how trusting your mother’s gaze was, how happy she looked, “Of course, honey, she’ll definitely get the highest score. She’s our daughter after all…”

Yes, unfortunately, I’m your daughter.

After breakfast you quickly got dressed for school, your uniform still warm from getting ironed a few minutes before you had to put it on. You hated wearing skirts to school, but you had no other choice as it was in the dress code. You fixed your hair and painted your lips a soft pink, smiling to yourself in the mirror. Not because you were happy, but because you didn’t want everyone to see how miserable you were. You didn’t have any friends; besides Yoona, you didn’t want any more rumors than the ones already circulating around you. They said all kinds of things about you, but neither was true. They weren’t necessarily bad, besides the one calling you a freak and saying you broke someone’s hand in your freshman year; you didn’t. But people weren’t very fond of you nonetheless and you didn’t want to add onto the list of why you should be more disliked than you already were. You knew the smile looked far from genuine, but it was better than nothing, it lessened the harsh expression of your face. It probably got like that due to your father’s constant pressure hanging over your shoulders.

The car ride was silent, John stirring up casual conversation with your father from time to time, as he drove you to school before driving your father to work. Your car was still in the car-service, actually, Jihoon got a new engine that you were more than happy to test out for him. He was the one who approached you, surprisingly, after your first won race. He said he liked your car and could smell the money from miles away; he offered to help out with your car if you raced on his behalf from time to time. You seriously didn’t need the money, but it sounded like fun and it was weird how impressed everyone was by Jihoon talking to you, so you accepted out of curiosity. It took you a month to realize he was part of the Lee family, being the eldest son actually, and that they owned the streets at night when racing. He truly was the best, both at racing and fixing cars. Sometimes you’d even drop off cash anonymously at his house, when you wouldn’t need it anymore, and you had a feeling he knew but stayed silent about it. Both of you knew that he needed the extra cash from time to time.

Your attention was brought to John when he stopped the car, unlocking the doors. You were parked at the front gates of your high school, you sighed as you grabbed the doorhandle of the car. Partially you were happy to be here just because you would be away from your father and mother.

“Y/N,” Your heart jumped to your stomach when your father called out your name, deep voice booming in the car, “If you don’t score 10/10, I will have to believe you are incompetent and unable to perform well in a private high school. If you don’t raise your score by the end of the semester, your name will be cut from the family tree and I will throw you out without a second thought.”

A cynical smirk appeared on your lips as you opened the door and turned to look at your father, “You can’t throw out a minor, father, unless you want me to go to the police and press magazines. I’m sure they are buzzing to know more about the mysteriously wealthy and handsome Mr. Seo, don’t you think?”

His jaw clenched and John gulped loudly, shaking his head as subtly as he could at you, as you hurriedly got out of the car. You never talked back to your father, you had no idea what came over you, but you felt so fed up with his threats. If only he knew cutting ties with him sounded like heaven to you. You didn’t care if you ended up on the streets as long as it was away from him, you were never hungry for money or greedy for it. You didn’t care about it, you just wanted love from the two figures who were supposed to raise you. Instead, one hated you and the other one was barely ever home.

“Have a good day at work, both of you.” You bowed deeply before closing the door of the vehicle, staring at the tinted window of the backseat. You waited until John drove away and you couldn’t see the car anymore. A strong gush of cold wind suddenly blew through the area and it made you realize that you were glaring at nothing, once again. You hated how little consideration he took of your feelings and how little he made you feel. Your father truly was the devil.

Yoona’s schedule was rather packed on Monday’s and Wednesday’s, so you couldn’t meet up with her during classes. Which maybe was a good idea, poor girl, you hoped she didn’t think you only used her to have someone to complain to, but you seriously had no one else to talk to. You loved Yoona and how open she was and ignorant to the rumors about you, she was always quick to shut others up. She was only a year older, yet she felt like a mother to you sometimes.

The day passed by incredulously fast and you made sure to take notes in each class, until it was homeroom class time. Your legs were bouncing up and down nervously and loudly as you tried not to bite your nails, a bad habit you were trying to get rid of. Usually, you weren’t this nervous, but your father reminding you of his threat this morning and your reckless answer made you realize if you indeed didn’t score 10/10 at English, you were truly fucked, and you hated the sudden ache of your stomach. It seemed like you were the only one so stressed out as your classmates kept shouting around you, joking and chatting, making your ears ring. All you could do was stare at the door anxiously, waiting for your homeroom teacher to enter this damned classroom already. But the bell didn’t even ring yet, it’s still break time, you sighed and bit your lower lip, trying to calm your nerves. You didn’t mean to, but your eyes fell on a boy and your eyebrows instantly furrowed. His right arm was resting on his desk, his right cheek on it as he slept. He looked so peaceful and carefree that it angered you more. How could he just sit there, sleep there, when you were about to get your grades? You knew he didn’t give a shit about his grades, yet he was always top of your class, breathing down your neck all the time. When you started high school, you never thought you’d meet someone almost as smart as you, and that you’ll be challenged. But Vernon…he just wrecked your life and made it a bigger hell than it already was, and tears almost came to your eyes as you couldn’t look away from his peaceful form. You were jealous and angry, wishing that could be you right now. As your eyes lingered on him, you realized, his cheekbones were high and sharp, almost hollow looking like. You hardly ever paid attention to guys, you didn’t have the time nor energy to put into them, but sometimes you caught yourself dozing off and staring at the back of Vernon’s head. He wasn’t special, far from it, he looked quite normal yet his beauty felt a little foreign, compelling. That was another reason to hate him for, and you never thought more of it, content with the current thoughts of him. You didn’t like him, but you didn’t deny that he was somewhat attractive either. Yet, your heart still started thumping quickly when Vernon’s eyes opened abruptly and made eye contact with you almost instantly, as if he knew you were staring. You averted your eyes and straightened your stance, refusing to look back at the boy, even if he continued staring at you. You never really spoke to him, you didn’t have a reason to, only greeted him in the mornings if you arrived after him…but you did greet everyone, after all. Your legs started bouncing again as Vernon wouldn’t look away and it made the hairs on your arms raise, your anxiety doubling. Why is he staring now? Does he think I like him or something? Maybe he knows I don’t like him? But your attention was brought back to the door as it opened just as the bell rang, and your homeroom teacher in walked. The voices in the classroom started dying down and even Vernon looked away from you, siting up straight in his chair. You were glad, you didn’t think you’d be able to ignore him for longer if your teacher wouldn’t have walked in. You donned out every voice that was still speaking, you even ignored your teacher’s usual speech about how grades weren’t important and that they didn’t actually reflect your knowledge about life…if only he knew what he was speaking. So, you just sat there silently, anxiously waiting for your sheet.

Which turned out to be more and more difficult as you were amongst one of the last ones, for once, making you hate the fact that your family name was ‘Seo’. You have successfully eaten three nails by the time your teacher called out your name and you raised from your chair, legs feeling a bit like jelly, as you rigidly walked up to his desk to take the sheet from him. Your hands shook and you hoped no one noticed, but when you turned to walk back to your seat, you were surprised to see Vernon squinting his eyes at you as he was watching you, once again. Did I draw too much attention onto myself by looking at him? This wasn’t the first time though, why is he suddenly so attentive of me? You ignored his burning gaze as you finally started walking back to your seat, gripping the sheet tightly in your hands. You were curios but also afraid to look. Vernon got his sheet a while ago and you tried to read his expression, but he only shrugged and placed the sheet between his notebooks, seemingly unimpressed. You were hopeful it was because he scored lower this time, but you couldn’t be very sure, he reacted the same way each time.

Finally sitting in your own chair, you took in a deep breath and opened the sheet, staring at the names of the subjects and then the grade next to it.

“Don’t forget kids, I tell you this each time, but I feel like saying this again. Grades don’t define us and you can be whoever you want to be in life, or do whatever you want to do, despite the grades on that paper—”

Your whole body ran cold as your hands started shaking hard, chest constricting as if your lungs stopped getting enough air to be able to function. Your eyes ran over and over again the same row, your brain refusing to acknowledge the information. English: 9,55. You hated what you were seeing, you hated what your teacher was saying, you hated how carefree and light everyone around you seemed to be, you hated Vernon’s gaze burning into the side of your head. You suddenly couldn’t bear sitting in that classroom anymore, it seemed rowdy and hot, your head started pounding painfully as you jumped up from your chair, knocking two notebooks and your sheet off the table. All the eyes on you made your chest tighten further and your eyes snapped towards your teacher when you heard him calling out to you.

“Miss Seo, is everything alright?” You really wanted to answer him, but when you opened your mouth to say something, nothing came out. Embarrassed and unable to take the looks you were getting by your classmates, Vernon’s confused gaze, you stepped around your chair and took off, uncaring of the repercussions. Your teacher called out your name once again, sounding more worried this time, and you glared at Vernon when he still didn’t look away, knocking onto his table on purpose, which made his pencil case and notebook fall to the floor. And with that, you were out of the classroom and running towards the girls restroom, hearing footsteps following you hurriedly. You knew your teacher sent someone after you to make sure that you wouldn’t do anything reckless, and it made you want to cry that your own teacher was more worried about your wellbeing than your own parents. You hoped the person realized you ran out because you wanted to be alone, and that they wouldn’t follow you inside the restroom, and when they actually didn’t, you broke down crying in front of the mirror, turning on the faucet to silence your sobs a little bit. I don’t want to go home.

You hated the looks your classmates were giving you after your breakdown, but some were nice enough to check up on you. You didn’t like the attention and the fact that you had to lie to them, but it warmed your heart a bit that not everyone was heartless and mean to you. You were surprised to see your things neatly placed in your bag after you returned from the restroom with a girl, Hanna, who your homeroom teacher sent after you to keep you company until you felt better. You wanted to ask who did that, because you wanted to thank them, but decided to stay quiet and just lay low for the rest of the day as rumors of you already spread through school like wildfire. You hated it, but you tried to ignore them…and Vernon too. He shot you a questioning gaze after you got back to class, but you acted like he wasn’t even there. Your gut was telling you that it was him who gathered your stuff from the floor and placed it back into your bag, but why would he do that? You were never very nice to him, and you even knocked his stuff off on purpose when you ran out. Fed up with your constant thoughts of Vernon and what others would say now about you, you blocked everything out and hurriedly gathered your things once the final bell rang, signaling that school was over for the day. You were glad that you could finally leave this place, but your stomach ached when you remembered you had to return home, to meet your father. Running away right now sounded like the smartest thing to do, but once you left your high school, you stopped and looked up towards the sky. The sun was high up and shinning down, creating a warm atmosphere and you looked around to observe that everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Kids were laughing and hanging onto their friends as they groaned about how hard school could get, others kids were excitedly talking about what homecooked meal their mothers made, and some were just hurriedly leaving through the gates. You smiled, but it was a sad smile, because you never experienced any of those feelings. You wished your mother would be at home, waiting for you with a homecooked meal, and that your father would arrive earlier from work and praise you for your grades, deciding to take the three of you out to the arcades. But those were dreams you’d never experience, and rather than continuing to hurt yourself with such fantasies, you took off with a sigh. You followed the path that lead to the iron gates of the high school and bowed your head a little to greet the gatekeeper, who was happy to see you. Not many kids were respectful toward the old man, but you didn’t think lower of him just because of his job, sometimes you’d sneak cookies from home and share them with him. As the weather was a lot warmer than in the morning, you took your scarf off and gasped when something hit your shoulder. You were expecting someone to be picking on you, but when you turned your head and looked at the girl leaning against the stone wall, you let a chuckle fall from your lips.

“I told you to throw your garbage in the trash cans, Yoona.” You scolded the older girl, picking up her cigarette butt to throw it into the nearest trash can later.

“Yeah, whatever,” Yoona rolled her eyes, lighting another cigarette, “What the hell happened today? Your crazy classmates wouldn’t stop talking about how you stormed out after you got your grades.”

You grimaced as you leaned against the stone wall next to your friend, “I didn’t get a 10/10.”

Your answer was direct and Yoona sighed, glancing at you as she puffed out the smoke of her cigar. She knew about your parents, but not the whole truth. She only knew about them being obsessed with your grades and that they were very controlling and harsh to you. You didn’t dare tell her the other things, afraid she’d do something about it, getting you in more trouble.

“Oh, Y/N…” Yoona’s expression was sad and you melted into her hug as she put her arms around you, on the verge of crying, “If it feels too much later on, call me…or come to the races with me, you don’t have to compete or anything. Just be there.”

You hummed and circled your arms around your friend, feeling a bit better as Yoona’s familiar perfume entered your nostrils, “It’s a Wednesday, you know I can’t go out…and I have an English tutor now, we are meeting later for our first session.”

“Oh, really?” Yoona’s interest peaked as she finally pulled herself away from you, patting your cheek, “Do I know him?”

“Maybe, it’s this new guy from America…calls himself DK.” You muttered, puckering your lips at the hilarious name he went by. Yoona’s expression hardened and she scoffed as she finished her cigar, not looking very pleased.

“You know him?” You asked curiously, Yoona not being one to dislike someone.

“Of course,” She rolled her eyes and pushed off the stone wall, dragging her leather jacket tightly around her body, “He’s in my class. He’s very annoying, tries hard to befriend everyone and won’t shut up. He’s not even smart, most of the time only says stupid things—”

“Okay,” You raised up one hand to stop Yoona from rambling, throwing her an amused smile, “What did he do to you that you don’t like him?”

Yoona just rolled her eyes, displeased by how much you knew her already, “He’s all up in my business, won’t leave me alone after he heard me talking to my friend from the U.S. Fucking idiot…”

You started giggling loudly, making Yoona glare at you, but your laughter was contagious and she ended up giggling too, “You’ll figure it out, Yoona.”

“Yeah…hopefully before Johnny decides to smash in his nose.” Her tone turned sour and you gave her a pitiful look, knowing her relationship with Johnny hadn’t been the best lately. Yoona just sighed and you patted her side, reassuring her that you were there for her if she needed someone to complain to. The sudden sound of engine roaring caught your attentions and Yoona turned stiff, looking to the road, where a black car pulled up. The window rolled down and Johnny’s face came in view.

“Speaking of the devil…” You muttered quietly, making Yoona smirk at you.

“Hello, ladies.” Johnny greeted the two of you with a charming smile and Yoona looked at him before back at you.

“Want us to give you a ride home?” You appreciated her offer, but you didn’t know if your dad was already at home. He didn’t mind Yoona very much, he knew her parents, but he hated Johnny and actually forbid you from meeting up with him or with them when they were together. You didn’t want to test the waters furthermore today; you had already done enough in the morning and now with your grade too.

“No, no,” You shook your head quickly, declining her offer nicely, “You can go. I have to pick up some books either way, you don’t have to bother with me…”

Yoona nodded and took off towards her boyfriend’s car, but when she opened the door, she turned back to look at you and mouthed, “Liar.”

You chuckled and waved at them as Johnny gave you a nod before pressing a strong kiss against your best friend’s lips, leaving her with a sour expression as he rolled the window up and took off, the engine of the car creating disturbance to the pedestrians. You looked down at the other cigarette butt Yoona dropped and picked it up with a sigh, dropping it into your pocket, where the other one was. She never listened to you when you told her to throw them away into a trash can, so it became by now a routine to pick them up and throw them away yourself. You took off once again, headed home for real this time, your stomach churned nervously as you played with the cigarette butts in your pocket. Your parents knew you didn’t smoke, they stopped checking up on that since you turned sixteen, so you weren’t afraid of smelling like it. Besides, they knew most kids your age smoked and that it could just easily get into your clothes and hair when you walked by. You sighed at the thought of your parents and tried to enjoy the sun on your skin, welcomed after the cold winter you had. It was hard to walk home, because you were anxious, but the pleasant weather made you slow your usual long strides as you passed the corner of the high school and turned onto the next street. You took the two cigarette butts between your fingers and threw them into the trash can on the side walk as you walked by it, your scalp feeling itchy. Sometimes you made your ponytail too tight and it left your scalp sore, so you quickly undid the tight hold, releasing your long black hair. You thought of cutting it, it was slowly nearing the middle of your back, but your mother said a feminine woman needs her long hair, that it’s precious, and you should never wear it too short. That’s why your hair always reached your scapulas or even longer. I always wondered how I’d look with short hair…it can’t be that bad, right? Your thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly became aware that someone was walking right next to you. You became stiff and ready to speed up, uncomfortable, but when you stole a glance at the person walking next to you, your feet came to an abrupt stop. So did the person, who was scratching his nape awkwardly, looking at your guiltily.

“Uh, sorry.” Vernon’s voice was loud here, the cars and people walking by you were being loud, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me.” You answered him too quickly, body stiff as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, still…” He cleared his throat and you became curious, he never really spoke to you directly, unless you were paired up for a group project during class, “I just wanted to ask you…”

You raised your eyebrows, curiously looking at Vernon, a little annoyed that he was stalling, “What?”

“Are you alright?” Your eyebrows furrowed at his question and you glanced around, feeling uneasy. Why is he suddenly so curious about how I feel? It’s really not his business.

“I’m fine, why?” You snapped, crossing your arms in front of your chest in a way to show him you weren’t too fond of this conversation.

“Just wanted to check up on you.” Vernon muttered as he kept looking at you, the sunlight lighting his features. His skin had a warm glow and he was squinting as he was standing facing the sun, his brown eyes were lighter than you had anticipated them to be.

“Well…” You cleared you throat, feeling a bit flustered, “You didn’t have to.”

Vernon hummed and nodded his head a little, biting his lower lip, an action which caught your attention, “I know…you ran out of class and you didn’t look too good. Just wanted to make sure you’re better now—”

Your inhale was sharp and it alerted Vernon as your eyes snapped back up to look him in the eyes. Your heart was beating like crazy and you knew your face turned hard as Vernon gulped; you took a step to lessen the distance between the two of you, “Stay out of my business, Vernon, you already make my days a nightmare as they are.”

Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, clearly taken aback by your threatening tone and sentence, not having expected such hostility coming from you. After all, he never did anything wrong to you…directly. He looked lost for a second, you felt bad for being so mean to him, but before he could form a sentence, you turned and rushed away, willing yourself to catch the green cross light, which would turn red by the time Vernon realized you were running away and would stop him from following you. Your heart was beating fast as you turned to look back, to see him standing at the cross dumbfounded, his eyebrows furrowed as he raised one hand as if to ask you to wait for him. You were pretty good at reading people; you had anticipated his moves. You shook your head at him and took off, Vernon losing sight of you in the mass of people walking on the sidewalk.

You were studying in your room when you heard the front door open and slam closed. Your hands suddenly started shaking as your mother’s laughter carried through the big apartment you lived in, your father’s voice next as he answered her question. You dreaded this moment, you knew it was coming, but you were hoping it would come later. You knew your father was expecting you in his study, so, you rose from your desk and pulled your hair in a low ponytail. You glanced at yourself in the mirror and hated your expression; anyone would be able to see how scared you looked. You started glaring at yourself, trying to stop this horrible feeling brewing inside you, as you pointed a finger at yourself in the mirror.

“Stop it!” You snapped at yourself quietly, “Whatever happens, happens. Walk out there with your head up and don’t say anything unnecessary!”

When you heard your mother’s heels clicking getting closer and closer, you quickly grabbed the sheet and hurried to your door, opening it just as your mother raised her knuckle to knock.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed with a wide smile and placed her palm on your cheek, “Looking pretty today, how do you feel?”

You remained expressionless as you looked at your mother, jealous of her good mood, “Fine, I’ll go see father now.”

“Oh, right!” She exclaimed again and stepped out of your way, shooing you away, “We are supposed to leave in thirteen minutes for our date, don’t keep him up! Also, we should look for some vacation cabins in the mountains for our get-away—”

“We are not going anywhere!” You snapped and turned your head to look at your mother, jaw clenched. How could she not pick up on my mental state? How could she not read my expression when I’ve been hers for seventeen years? When she was my mother?

“Oh…” She cleared her throat, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, “Why…”

“I didn’t get the grade.” You muttered and sighed, taking off towards your father’s office. It was on the other end of the apartment and you had time to even out your expression and calm your erratic heartbeat for at least a while. When you stopped in front of the big, black, door you took a deep breath and ignored your mother, who was headed to their shared bedroom, and knocked on your father’s office door. There was a grunt coming from inside and you knew it was your cue to walk in, so, you opened the door with more force than needed and walked in, leaving the door open. He hated it, but you felt like you’d need to escape tonight, it made you feel safer. Your father glanced at his door and then at you before leaning back in his chair with a sigh. You didn’t sit as you came to a stop in front of his desk, just reached your hand out for him to take the sheet. He nodded once and took it, eyes running over the paper. Your heart started beating quickly once again and you clasped your hands behind your back to stop yourself from biting your other nails you didn’t get to in school. Involuntarily, your left foot started tapping against the floorboards of the office and you gulped as you looked straight ahead when your father’s eyes fell on you.

“What did I say?” His voice was hard, sheet crumbled up in his hands. Don’t answer him, let him scream at you, “I thought I was clear.”

When he fell silent you didn’t know what to do or say, so you just let your head hang low, avoiding eye contact with your father, “You are telling me that you’re unable to get a 10/10 at English? When your mother is American?! Is your brain perhaps too little for you to comprehend what you have to learn?! Are you dumb, Y/N?!”

That felt like the last straw. I’m not dumb, I’m more competent than you once were! Your eyes snapped up to meet your father’s, your glare melting into his, “How am I dumb? I got a 9,55, father! And I got a 10/10 at everything else! I’m top of my class and high school! What more do you want?!”

Your voice broke at the end of the sentence, and your body shook, you have never raised your voice at your father. He looked shocked for a second, but in a second also, he was up and storming around his desk to reach you.

“You ungrateful scum!” He shouted loudly, his deep voice made you jump, “I feed you! I give you money! I buy you clothes! I put a roof over your head! And this is how you pay me back? By talking back and thinking you are better than me?!”

“When did I ever say that—” The words died in your throat as the back of your father’s palm slammed into your cheek harshly. Your eyes widened as your head snapped to the other side, tears instantly sprung to your eyes. You remained like that, unmoving and quiet, fighting with your tears. I’d rather die than cry right now. Your father scoffed and you felt the sheet hit your head as he threw that at you as well, as he turned away from you.

“You have three months to fix your mistakes, Y/N. After that, I will not see you anymore in this house.” You gulped at his words, straightening once he walked away and you knew he wouldn’t hit you again. You remained in front of his desk as he walked towards his door, about to get changed for his date with your mother. A broken chuckle left your lips as you looked up at the ceiling, one single tear rolling down your cheek. Better make his life hell in those three months!

“I can’t wait to leave this fucking hell!” You hissed, unaware that your father didn’t leave the room yet. He hesitated taking his next step as he looked back at you with furrowed eyebrows, taken aback by your words.

“I wish I was never born into this fucking family.” At this point, you didn’t even care if he was still standing in the doorway or not, it just felt good to speak your mind aloud. You wanted to shout at the top of your lungs for your parents to hear what you had to say. You wanted everyone to know. I hate them. Your father gulped as he took one final look at you, his jaw clenched, before he shook his head and walked away with a scoff. All he could think of was that you were a spoiled, ungrateful brat. Meanwhile, all you could think of was the day you’d finally be able to run away. In three months, you’d turn eighteen, school would finally end, and you’d leave this shithole you hated with your whole heart. Screw them both, who gives a fuck about them anyways?

That night you went to bed crying, which resulted in having a puffy face once you woke up. Your study session with DK wasn’t very successful and once he realized you just weren’t in the right state of mind to study, he dismissed you and set another appointment for next week, saying your English was almost better than his and that you didn’t even need tutoring. You knew that, but you were hopeful that if DK helps you out, on your next exam you’ll get a 10/10 just to spite your father before you move out. While crying, you have decided, that no matter what, in three months you were out of that place. You didn’t want to stay there anymore, you’d rent out a small apartment downtown, find a job and finish your last year of high school. You knew your mother would secretly support you and give you enough money to survive for months, but you didn’t want anything that was theirs anymore…especially their money. When you looked in the mirror to get ready for a new day, all you could do was sigh. Your eyes were big and red and you knew you’d have to spend half an hour just pouring cold water on them to make the swell go away. But when you pulled your hair in a bun, you knew the greenish-bluish bruise on your right cheekbone wouldn’t go away with cold water, you had to put on makeup. This is why you didn’t tell Yoona exactly everything about your family, especially your father, she would’ve reported it without a second thought. You disliked your parents, yes, but they were still your parents. Right now, they were everything you’ve got and you could make them suffer in different, much more effective ways. You decided to let your hair rest freely today, knowing it would offer more cover for your cheek, even if the expensive foundation and color corrector did their jobs fairly well. At breakfast you didn’t speak at all to your parents and you refused to ride with John and your father to school, taking the bus instead as you were running late a bit to be walking. You were in a bad mood all day and everyone could see it, even Yoona, who was a lot more cheerful than yesterday. She promised to hang out with you at lunch break and you were thankful, you felt like you needed to be in her presence today. Vernon was becoming plain annoying with his constant staring and his attempt to talk to you in one of the short breaks you had between classes, which alerted everyone from your class. You threw him a harsh glare and he understood that you wanted nothing to do with him, so he went back to his desk and left you alone for the rest of the day.

You were fixing your makeup before the lunch break arrived, your geography teacher let you off early today, as you stared into your small pocket mirror. You pulled your hair behind your ear as you took out the little cushion and started tapping it lightly against your cheekbone, not much of the foundation had come off, but you wanted to be sure. Especially since you were having lunch with Yoona. As you stared at yourself, your eyes looking lifeless, your ears picked up a loud voice greeting someone from your classroom. You looked up, curious, and your eyes fell on Vernon’s table. A darker blonde-haired boy, quite scrawny looking with dirty clothes, was leaning against Vernon’s desk. He looked younger than the two of you, maybe he was your age, but his complex gave him a boyish look. Vernon looked panicked as he stared at the boy, pinching his ear and making the boy cry out. A few of your classmates glanced at them, but no one seemed as invested and curious as you were. Vernon looked like he got caught doing something illegal, it definitely picked your interest. In your mind, Vernon was this perfect boy, perfect student, whom never did anything bad. Seeing that look on his face, you placed your mirror down on your desk and sneakily continued to watch them.

“Hyung, I’m just here to tell you something important!” The young boy exclaimed annoyed, earning a few more confused looks as he wasn’t wearing your high school’s uniform…or any for that matter. Is he not in school? He seems very young however…maybe he just skipped classes today? Vernon’s eyes widened and accidentally connected with yours and you quickly looked down, absentmindedly flipping through your long-forgotten fashion magazine. You felt his gaze remain on you for a few more seconds before it was gone; you peaked up at them to see the younger boy hunched over Vernon’s desk as he was articulately whispering something. Now, that made you even more curious about what they were speaking, and you looked back down at your magazine. A model you didn’t like had their picture on the page, so, you gripped it and tore the page out, crumbling the paper up. There, this should do for a good excuse to pass by them. You cleared your throat, feeling like you were about to commit a felony, and checked if anyone was watching you, but no one was. You hummed to yourself and looked around, trying to look innocent as you started slowly walking towards Vernon’s desk. Your heart started beating faster as your grip tightened on the paper and you slowed down even more once you could hear the boy’s high-pitched voice.

“Hyung, I’m not kidding! They said they’ll pay really well!” Pay well for what? Your eyebrows furrowed as you became intrigued, eager to find out more.

“I’m not racing against Jun anymore, why can’t you understand that?!” Vernon snapped quietly; his eyebrows were furrowed as he was glaring at his desk. The young boy sighed loudly and you actually stopped walking, standing just two feet away from them. Jun? Vernon is racing? Is this what I think it is?

“Come on, hyung!” The young boy whined and you jumped when something crashed in the back, the paper falling from your grip, “It’s tomorrow night, on a Friday, your mom won’t be pissed if we go racing—”

“Shut up!” Vernon’s voice was hard as you made eye contact. Your face must have said it all because Vernon didn’t look pleased, you heard something you weren’t supposed to. You cleared your throat and walked to the trash bin, feeling the little smirk creep onto your lips. Vernon races? How come I’ve never seen him before? Your thoughts became a whirlwind as you turned to walk back to your desk, eyes falling onto Vernon. He was glaring at you and suddenly you felt powerful, like you were in control of this situation. Vernon was racing Jun? Last month I beat Jun…that means…I can finally beat Vernon at something. You were suddenly pleased and even your mood got better, something you weren’t expecting to happen anytime soon. You didn’t have to think twice as the bell rang signaling it was time for lunch break. The young boy hadn’t left yet and it looked like Vernon was scolding him as you reached inside your backpack and felt around it. You gripped your sandwich first and then the cold rolled up material. You took both items out and your lips widened into a big smirk as your eyes fell on Vernon, who was busy talking to the boy. This is it. I can finally show him he isn’t better at everything. He’s not rich, I have a Veyron, it doesn’t matter what car he has, I will beat him without a doubt. You took off, gripping your things tightly as you were headed straight towards Vernon’s table. Him and the boy stopped whispering when they felt your presence behind them and they turned both to look at you. You slammed the big roll of cash on Vernon’s table, making their jaws drop as the young boy looked back at you as if you grew two heads out. You felt powerful and proud, so, with a wink directed at the young boy you brushed past him to find Yoona and enjoy your lunch with her. You knew Vernon understood your message.

Classes passed by quickly and you were buzzing to get out of school, for once not even having thought of your parents since the incident with Vernon. You wanted to talk to him, but not at school, you didn’t want your classmates to start more unwanted rumors about you or Vernon. You might dislike him, but you didn’t want to drag him into unnecessary drama. So, you told Yoona that tomorrow you were going to the races and she was excited, telling you she’d be there too with Johnny and his crew, and that she’d cheer for you. She was proud of you and amused at the same time, she knew you disliked Vernon, so she understood how much this meant to you. It was childish, but Yoona didn’t judge you for it, even cheered you on, she could see something was wrong today. So, when you left the school gates, you walked down the street after you promised Yoona that she could drive you home tomorrow, and you turned the corner. You knew Vernon walked this way to get home, so you leaned against the stone wall of the school fence and took a deep breath in, suddenly confused why your heart was beating so fast. Am I nervous because I’m about to see Vernon? No, that’s stupid, I don’t have a reason to feel this way around him. You stood up straight when Vernon rounded the corner and his eyes fell on you, narrowing dangerously as he approached you. When he stopped in front of you, he remained silent and you rolled your eyes, opening your mouth to speak.

“I’m sure you know what I meant by that…” You trailed off and Vernon nodded wordlessly, “I’m challenging you to race.”

“I know.” Vernon nodded again, his voice seemed to be a lot deeper right now, and you didn’t even realize it when you blushed.

“I heard some rumors…” You started, trying to remain confident under his sudden intimidating gaze, “About a guy called Vernon who drifts better than Lee Seungkwan, is that you?”

A smirk appeared on Vernon’s lips and your eyebrows furrowed when your heartbeat picked up again, suddenly you felt hot standing under the sun, “It is me.”

You didn’t like the look on Vernon’s face, you felt like he knew he was making you flustered, so you took a step to be closer, “Well then, here’s my proposal…I win, you teach me how to drift. You win, I’ll go on a date with you.”

I can’t believe this is the proposal I’m making, I sound stupid. How do I know he wants to go on a date with me? Now I’m just blindly assuming and insinuating that he might like me, oh no…Your cheeks warmed up again and you hated the way Vernon started laughing, his mouth opening and showing his teeth.

“How do you know if I want to go on a date with you?” Vernon raised one eyebrow and you rolled your eyes, trying to mask your initial panic.

“Call it a hunch,” You answered back with a smirk, trying to fake your confidence that suddenly decided to disappear, “are you in or not?”

Vernon remained silent for a few seconds as his eyes ran over your face, his features softening. You bit your lower lip, feeling nervous all of a sudden as no boy looked at you like that before.

“I’m in.” He extended his hand for you to shake and you looked down at it, hesitantly shaking his hand. His grip was strong and warm, his palm surprisingly soft as it caressed yours, it was so much bigger. Your cheeks burned again and your eyebrows furrowed as you became angry at yourself and pulled your hand away, throwing Vernon a small glare. He seemed amused as you turned and stormed off, completely missing the smitten look Vernon was giving you.

You woke up feeling excited, which was a foreign feeling, as you usually dreaded having breakfast with your parents. Last night you tried to nurse the bruise on your cheek with ice and ointment, but the colors were still there and you had to cover it with foundation once again. You let your hair hang freely once again and once you were dressed; you went out to have breakfast. Your parents weren’t in the dining room, so you headed to the kitchen, surprising the maids, and asked them to let you have breakfast there. They were hesitant but didn’t try to argue with you when they saw the genuine smile on your face; they could see how your mood was strangely good today and decided not to ruin it. After that, you skillfully creeped around the apartment, making sure to avoid your parents as you headed for school, your long strides taking you to school quickly. Yoona and you got there at the same time so you asked her to take you to Jihoon’s car-service after school, she said she’d drive you home today after all, as your Veyron was ready to be picked up for tonight’s race. Vernon seemed to be smug as he offered you a few smirks here and there throughout the day, and when you returned from the restroom, you found a protein bar on your desk. Confused, you looked around and watched your classmates, who weren’t paying much attention to you. Vernon wasn’t in the classroom and you sighed, about to sit, when Hanna waved her hand at you. You raised your eyebrows at her in question and she just pointed at Vernon’s table before at the protein bar. You understood what she tried saying and with red cheeks you slumped into your chair, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Your gaze fell on the protein bar and just as you poked it annoyed, Vernon walked in with two of his friends and his eyes fell on you. You threw him a glare and hid behind your long hair, refusing to let him see the blush on your cheeks, I blushed enough yesterday. His ego didn’t need to be further fed. You found it amusing how sure he looked of himself, you knew he was convinced that he’d win tonight, but you also knew he’d be a sore loser. You haven’t seen many people with expensive cars at the races, even if the engine is the one that counts, your Veyron just naturally was faster and better than most cars they owned. It was why you were able to win so many races until now and why Jihoon approached you in the first place. He was excited to see the new engine he installed in action tonight, he would sell it for big money if you win.

�� Your parents were still out on their date when you left the apartment, you didn’t have to worry about them seeing you dressed ‘like a hooker’, as they called this style. It wasn’t even anything bad, just leather pants and a strapless crop top and your leather jacket. You wore your thick, plain, platformed boots so that you’ll seem taller but be able to drive at the same time. Once you got to the garage you smiled pridefully at your car as you unlocked it. You really loved the car; it was your most prized possession as it brought you many victories so far. Once you turned the car on, goosebumps appeared on your arms at the roar of the engine. It was humming loudly and it shook your car in the best way possible as you carefully drove out of the garage. You turned on the radio and chuckled when Yoona’s favorite song came on, rolling down the windows to let the chilly air of the night fill your car. You pulled your hair in a low ponytail so that it wouldn’t accidentally get in your face and disturb you, you were aware of what you did was dangerous. You were careful as you drove down the illuminated streets of Seoul, making sure you wouldn’t exceed the speed limit. Wouldn’t want to make your father hate you more and take your car away. You’d get there at least fifteen minutes earlier, and you’d lie if you said your stomach wasn’t whirling around due to nervousness. You gripped the wheel tightly as you shook your head, passing by a green light, trying to clear your mind. This really isn’t the time to be nervous about something that I will most definitely win. The engine change wasn’t very obvious, your car was actually a bit slower, but it still flew down the streets if you pressed the gas pedal. Jihoon assured you you’d definitely win, even with the slight change, and you promised to give half of the profit to him. Tonight, he was making good money, people would flock to him to buy this new engine which to them seemed like it was as fast as an original Veyron engine, people were easy to fool. You drove through downtown and past some warehouses, music getting carried to where you were currently, even though the meeting point was one block away. You slowed as you turned the next corner and shut the lights of the car off as the street was illuminated well enough by the lampposts but the reflectors brought by the people here too. The street you were on was a very long streets, on both sides were abandoned buildings, and cars were parked close to those building to leave space for the circulating cars, and people, to pass by. You honked softly and the mass of people in front of you started fleeing out of your way, creating a straight path for you to the start line. You slowly rolled by them, the loud music coming from different car speakers could be felt even in your car, you picked up on the slight vibrations. People who knew you greeted you with grins and tapped your turquoise car, becoming excited when they saw you weren’t about to park anywhere. They knew you were racing tonight and as you arrived to the start line, people started cheering your name. You started laughing as you turned the engine off and got out of your car, grinning at the people surrounding you.

“There you are!” Yoona exclaimed as she leaned against the front of your car, arms crossed in front of her. You chuckled and approached her, draping an arm around her shoulders.

“Did you think I’d miss tonight?”

“Nothing’s ever sure with you…” She was right and you rolled your eyes, having missed races not once because of your parents being home. They didn’t know what you did in your free time, but sometimes they’d forbid you from spending your Fridays out, even though you always said you were sleeping over at Yoona’s.

“Did you see Vernon?” You asked as you looked around, unable to see anyone familiar in the huge crowd around you. Butterflies in your stomach made you rub your tummy as you pouted and Yoona started laughing loudly.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous?” Her eyebrows raised and you decided not to look at her, “And no, I don’t even know if he’s here. Maybe he chickened out—”

A loud roar of an engine made Yoona’s words unable to be heard and you whipped your head around, eyes falling on a red Honda Civic Type R. The windows were tinted and you couldn’t see inside, but you knew it was Vernon, no one else was racing beside the two of you for the next twenty minutes. Yoona’s eyes widened just a bit as you both watched Vernon get out of the car and you were confused when two blondes ran up to him squealing.

“Oppa!” They chorused and your face distorted into disgust as Yoona burst out laughing, leaning back as her head was thrown back. You looked at her, expression still the same, and it made her laugh louder and harder. Your eyes fell on Johnny, who was smirking, as he started approaching you, his eyes falling on Vernon.

“Brought along your Barbie dolls, eh?” He tapped Yoona’s thigh as he walked past, headed for Vernon. The two blondes clung onto Vernon’s arms and you finally looked at him, taking in his attire. He wore ripped jeans and a form fitting navy green blouse, a leather jacket keeping him warm from the chilly air. A few chains hung around his neck and his dark hair was pushed back. You were surprised to see Vernon dressed like this; you didn’t think his style would be like that. You’ve only ever seen him in his uniform and some loose gym clothes. You gulped and Yoona nudged you, eyes squinted.

“Stop staring at him, you’re making it very obvious.” She muttered as she leaned down as if she was about to whisper something to you.

“What?” You asked confused as you turned your head, Vernon just shook hands with Johnny, and you then looked back at Yoona.

“That you like him.” Yoona’s words hit you like a truck and you couldn’t help the very loud scoff that left your lips. Is she crazy? I like Vernon? Where did she get that from?!

“Did you take something before you—”

Yoona threw you a warning glare and you didn’t finish your sentence as you knew better, but your attention was back on Johnny and Vernon, it looked like they’ve known each other for quite a while as they talked casually.

“Taking her out for a tour?” Johnny asked with a grin as he placed his hand on Vernon’s Honda. Vernon nodded and untangled himself from the two blondes, a smirk appearing on his lips. Your stomach did a somersault and you gasped quietly, confused as to what that feeling meant and why you only ever felt so flustered around Vernon. Yoona can’t be right…

“Nah, I’m here to claim my prize.” Vernon’s eyes fell on you and your back straightened as you quickly smoothed your expression into a neutral one. You knew your cheeks were still burning, but it was so chilly outside, one could blame it on that. You chuckled as Johnny looked at you too, seemingly having realized Vernon was racing you tonight.

“I don’t know man,” He said with an amused smirk, patting Vernon’s back forcefully, “I’ve never seen Y/N lose before in that car.”

You couldn’t help but notice the slight envy that slipped into Johnny’s tone and it made you smirk; you always knew he wanted your car. He was pretty pissed when you refused to let him drive it, you weren’t about to let a lunatic wreck your precious car. If something happened to it and you’d had to tell your parents it was Johnny’s fault, you were sure you’d never get to see the daylight ever again.

“You’re still in, right, Chwe?” You raised your eyebrows mockingly and Vernon scoffed, opening his door.

“Why don’t you sit inside your car so that we get over with this?” You chuckled and pushed off your car, Yoona following suit as Johnny walked up to the two of you, grabbing Yoona’s nape. You watched as he stared her in the eyes, eyes narrowing the slightest at her, and Yoona’s jaw clenched as she waited patiently for Johnny to stop. You hated when he did that, tried dominating Yoona or got possessive to the point of hurting her, so you ripped your car door open and pressed down on the honk harshly. Both of them jumped and Johnny looked at you with a glare.

“Move along, dickhead, I haven’t got all night.” You snapped at him and he chuckled, releasing Yoona, who looked thankful as she pushed Johnny slightly back and walked away while shooting you a finger heart.

“Don’t crash.” You rolled your eyes at Johnny’s words and got in as he walked to the side where Yoona stood, circling his arms around your best friend’s waist. Out of nowhere, Jun showed up, holding a checkered flag. You closed your door shut and put on your seatbelt, melting into your seat. Vernon’s engine roared to life and you were quick to do the same, Jun having come to a stop between the two cars.

“You know the drill,” Jun shouted over everyone’s voice, “You’ve got 400 meters, whichever finishes first wins and gets the money.”

Vernon reeled his engine and you just smirked; eyes fixed on the checkered flag as Jun raised it. You always concentrated, how you start, is the most important thing. You can’t lose seconds and you have to be faster than the other one, it gives you already a very small but significant advantage. You gripped the gearstick and the wheel with your other hand, ready to shift it into drive. You hated how your eyes had to take a glance at Vernon and it annoyed you even more when you realized his eyes were on you. What if Yoona is right and I do like him? I do feel flustered around him. Isn’t it just because he makes me angry? A few days ago, I was convinced I hated him with all my heart. What is it that I truly feel for him then? Jun’s hand with the flag dropped and you shifted the gearstick just in a second, your foot pressing down the gas pedal. You didn’t look anywhere else as your car came to an abrupt start, the safety belt cutting into the exposed skin of your collarbones and your eyebrows furrowed as your car picked up speed in just seconds. Everything became a blur around you, all you saw was the finish line that was still far away, but you were getting closer and closer. You didn’t know where Vernon was, but having not seen him pass you, you believed he was still behind somewhere. Your stiff body almost felt relaxed, despite the contraction of your muscles to keep the car going in a straight line at such high speed, and your mind was silent. You didn’t hear anything, the radio was always off when you raced because you wanted to hear the engine, and your labored breathing felt almost relaxing. You felt in control and free, a small smile slipped onto your lips when you noticed Seungkwan standing on the side with a big checkered flag, flapping it around above him. You were close, just a few more meters. Your engine cried loudly as you pushed the gas pedal for another boost of energy, your car crossing the finish line before Vernon’s could. You let go of the gas pedal and hit the brakes, your car coming to a stop slowly but surely. People flooded around your car and your head rested on the head rest as you closed your eyes, surprised by how fast your heart was beating. Adrenaline always flooded your veins, but never this much. You opened one eye and glanced to your left, but Vernon’s car was nowhere. It confused you as you turned the engine off, undoing your seatbelt. People were cheering for you, your name leaving their lips as they tapped your car in congratulations, and you gripped the door handle to open it. Just as you pushed it open, it was pushed back closed and your eyebrows furrowed, until Vernon’s face popped up. He motioned with his finger to roll down your window and you did, still looking at him confused.

“What are you doing?” You asked, your voice loud, as Vernon threw the cash back at you, making it land in your lap.

“I lost,” His tone was hard and he looked displeased, “but you knew I would, so take your money back.”

You rolled your eyes and gripped the cash, raising it up between your faces, “I gave it to you regardless of the outcome, our deal was about something else—”

“I’m not your charity case!” Vernon’s voice turned harsh and you raised your eyebrows at him, finding it weird how pissed he suddenly was, “I’ll meet you tomorrow at noon at the abandoned sandy tracks half an hour from here. Don’t come with the Veyron, it’s not a car for beginners.”

You opened your mouth to snap at him that you weren’t a beginner, but Vernon turned around and stormed away, pushing people out of his way. You turned your head to see where he was headed, and you found his car just a few meters away from the finish line, 100 meter between yours and his car. What a dick.

The revving of the engine was a sign that you were doing something wrong and out of anger, you hit the brakes harshly, sending yourself and the person sitting in the passenger seat forward. Your heart was beating fast as you gripped the steering wheel with both hands, your skin melting into the material of the wheel. The seatbelt was cutting into your skin too and your jaw clenched when a chuckle came from your right. You knew Vernon was smirking in amusement, very pleased to see you fail once again. You thought you’d learn how to drift quickly and easily, but here you were, almost two hours later, barely being able to make one right turn. You didn’t know what it was that made it so hard, it couldn’t have been Vernon’s Honda, you’ve driven cars like his before thanks to Jihoon; you really didn’t understand what was the matter. I can’t believe I’ve been embarrassing myself for the past two hours. A sigh left your mouth and you glanced at Vernon, who’s right arm was perched on the windowsill and he had his smirk still on.

“You suck at teaching,” You had to say something to save yourself from further embarrassment, “That’s why I still can’t do it.”

It was so amusing to Vernon that he started laughing, his mouth widening and his teeth showed. Your heart only seemed to pick up its rhythm and your eyebrows furrowed as you harshly shifted the gear to start doing another round.

“Hey, hey—” Vernon was quick to notice your change of demeanor and your fingers tightened around the shift stick when he gripped your hand, “I think we had enough for today, Y/N…especially my car. I can’t have you burning down my brakes, sorry.”

“If you’d let me come with my Veyron you wouldn’t be here complaining—”

“And risk wrecking that car?” Vernon’s eyebrows shoot up and you looked at him, his hand was still on top of yours as if he forgot it there, “Hell, I bet your parents don’t even know you race…I for sure would bite my kid’s head off if I found out they raced with a car like yours—”

“Yeah,” You snapped, eyes blazing as you glared at Vernon, what does he know about me, “That’s why they don’t know. Let go of my hand now and tell me where to drive.”

Vernon gulped and if you weren’t so angry, you probably would have blushed at his reaction. He looked down at your hands as if he realized due to your words it was still on top of yours and he quickly placed it in his lap, clearing his throat as you looked away, “I’m quite hungry, let’s have lunch.”

“Just tell me where you live and I’ll call John to pick me up—”

“No!” Vernon’s voice rose a bit and you looked at him surprised as you were driving away from the abandoned race tracks, “I mean…come have lunch with us. My mom knows where we are and she’d be really pissed if I didn’t invite you for lunch…”

Your heart started beating fast again and you bit your lower lip, trying to ignore his words and the temptation to say yes, “I can’t stay.”

“Please—”

“No.” Vernon knew it was final and that he couldn’t try convincing you anymore, but he really wanted you to stay. He was amazed by you, truth be told. He didn’t know what was so attractive about you, because you might have been beautiful, but he never really cared much about looks. Something about the way you would always look at him, he felt some hidden feelings that you desperately tried to hide from him and yourself as well. He knew you had something with him personally, he didn’t understand why, but he hoped one day you’d have enough courage to tell him. It was the only reason why he never tried getting close to you, he was afraid honestly, that you’d reject him in a very unpleasant way and he wanted to save himself from the heartbreak. He didn’t even know you raced, he never heard of your name being gossiped at the races, however, he did hear something from Chan, who worked for Lee Jihoon. But you weren’t the only girl who’s name was Y/N, he couldn’t just assume so boldly. As you focused on the road, on driving back towards the main roads, you failed to notice Vernon’s intense gaze analyzing your every movement, expression. Your bruise had faded nicely, after icing it non-stop when you were home, but you could still faintly see it. So faintly, that one would have to be really close next to you to see it, or so you thought. Vernon clearly saw it and just as he opened his mouth to question what it was, you sighed.

“Yesterday…” You started quietly, your muscles having eased now that you were just driving around casually and Vernon wasn’t touching you, “I feel like I insulted you…”

Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched you, pointing towards a street, to which you turned, “Insulted me?”

“With the money…I didn’t want to make it seem like I was—”

But Vernon didn’t want to hear it, because quite frankly, he wasn’t insulted at all last night. He was pissed, because you won. And that was only because he really wanted to go on that date with you. However, now that you’ve been alone in his car for almost two hours, he didn’t seem to mind it that much, “I wasn’t insulted, Y/N. I know you are rich and that I have less than you, but it didn’t mean anything to me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and once again followed Vernon’s instructions, which lead to a quiet side of the city, “Why were you so angry then?”

“I was frustrated, not necessarily angry.” Your lips pulled up into a smile and you glanced at Vernon.

“I probably should have warned you I drive a Veyron—”

“I heard Jihoon sold your engine.”

“It wasn’t mine. He bought it and wanted me to show it off so that he could sell it for more.”

“Smart.”

“I know.” You found yourself glancing at Vernon with a smile, which he returned, as he pointed towards a house at the end of the street. It was a dead end, and theirs was the last house. It looked normal size, white, and had a nice front lawn. You didn’t think Vernon was poor, but the quality of the house surprised you. It had a refreshing look and definitely looked cozy just from the outside. You parked the car in the driveway, like Vernon instructed, and turned the engine off. You both undid your seatbelts and got out of the car; your eyes glanced towards the house. The window on the second floor was opened and loud music was blasting through it. A smile had pulled onto your lips without realizing and Vernon cleared his throat to get your attention.

“That’s my sister…she’s a bit loud sometimes.” You nodded as your eyes fell on Vernon, who’s hands were in the pockets of his baggy jeans, it weirdly looked good on him. Vernon’s style surprised you. It looked really cool and was actually very fitting for him, now you realized. It would be weird seeing him now in his uniform, knowing his preference in clothes.

“I’ll call John—" But just as you grabbed your phone from your jacket, the front door opened and a middle-aged lady walked out, hands on her waist.

“Look at you two!” She exclaimed in English and your lips instantly pulled into a smile, her accent sounding an awful lot like Vernon’s, “I thought you’d never come home. Come on!”

Vernon grinned at his mother and took off, but you remained put, “Uh, ma’am I’ll be calling my father’s driver to pick me up.”

“Non-sense!” Vernon’s mother’s eyebrows furrowed as she stepped down a few steps, “Hurry up inside, I just finished the soup.”

“Ma’am, I really can’t stay for lunch—”

“Vernon, go get her!” And before you could disagree more, his mother walked inside, leaving the door open for you. Your eyes fell on Vernon and you shook your head, about to dial John’s number. I really don’t want to be here right now. My father is already pissed enough at me, I shouldn’t miss lunch today…especially since we are meeting with his business partners.

“If you don’t have lunch with us, mom won’t let me help you tomorrow or next week.” Your eyebrows furrowed at Vernon’s words and you looked down at your cellphone, hesitant to put it away. Would it really be so bad if I stayed? It’s just one lunch. Besides, I most definitely don’t want to meet Mr. Kim’s son, he’s too rude for my liking. You rolled your eyes and put your phone on ‘do not disturb’, putting it back inside your jacket’s pocket as you followed Vernon inside the house.

The house on the inside was exactly how you imagined it to be. Walls white with big windows to let the natural light inside and everywhere you looked, you saw family pictures. It seemed like Vernon’s mother really liked flowers too as you could find them in every corner of the house. There was a scent of homecooked meal and it smelled so much better than the one coming from your maids at home. It was a lot warmer inside than outside, so you decided to get rid of your jacket too after you left your shoes in the doorway. You’d usually wear flip flops at home, but when Vernon gave you none and instructed to just go straight ahead while he went upstairs, you didn’t say anything about it. You watched Vernon hurry up the stairs as you walked down the hallway, humming coming from where Vernon instructed you to head towards.

“Oh, good!” It was his mom, once you stepped inside the kitchen, the scent of homecooked food was stronger. The kitchen wasn’t very big, just enough for a few people to be inside, but when you looked to your left you noticed there was a dining room, the young boy from school was there actually. He was sitting on a chair, one foot up on the chair next to him as he watched something on his phone, picking his nose in the process. It was a sight you weren’t expecting, such a normal sight you never got to see at home, that it made you laugh. You actually started laughing so hard it alerted the young boy, who’s cheeks became pink and he shoot you a glare.

“Chan,” Vernon’s mom sighed as she glanced back to see what was so funny, “He was picking his nose again, wasn’t he?”

You only nodded as you tried to stop laughing, the boy actually got up and walked towards you with a small glare. You weren’t aware that Vernon had a brother, besides, this Chan boy looked nothing like Vernon or his mother.

“I’m Y/L/N Y/N by the way,” You spoke up as Chan stopped beside you, squaring you up with his eyes, as you watched Vernon’s mother.

“Yes, Vernon told me who he was going with. Wasn’t expecting a girl to want to learn how to drift.” Chan scoffed next to you as he offered you his hand once he was done taking your form in.

“Lee Chan.” You shook his hand and narrowed your eyes at him, “And Mrs. Chwe, I told you women like to race. Sometimes there’s more of them at the race tracks than men.”

“He’s not wrong.” You approved of his words, looking back at him, “You’re not related to the Lee family, right?”

“Do I look like I am?” Chan had a sharp tongue and you scoffed, watching him brush past you, “Let me put the plates, Mrs. Chwe.”

“You should be studying, Chan, dear.” Chan just rolled his eyes as he opened a drawer and pointed at the cutlery and motioned for you to take them. You grimaced at him but proceeded to help him out, it was better than standing awkwardly in the kitchen and doing nothing.

“Studying is a luxury that I can’t benefit of.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you walked alongside Chan to the dining room, setting the plates and cutlery on the long table.

“What do you mean?” You asked quietly, noticing one plate missing.

“I don’t have enough money to go to school, Y/N.” Chan answered with an impassive voice, but you couldn’t help and notice the yearning behind his words.

“How old are you?” You found yourself asking again, something tugging at your heartstrings. Am I feeling bad for him? He deserves to have part of education like everyone else. He seems like a quick-witted boy.

“Sixteen.” Chan muttered and brushed past you as he headed for the door of the kitchen. You looked at Mrs. Chwe as she brought the pot of soup to the table, still steaming as it had been recently finished. She had a sad expression as she heard your little exchange with Chan and it suddenly all made sense. He’s here because they are taking care of him. I don’t know his home situation, but if Mrs. Chwe took him in, it must mean that he wasn’t living well before at all.

“Vernon! Sofia!” You jumped at Chan’s shrill voice and Mrs. Chwe chuckled, taking a seat at the head of the table.

“Sit wherever you want,” She offered you a smile and you chose to sit on her left, the cushion was soft underneath your bum, “Can’t believe my son just left you to yourself, where are his manners.”

“It’s alright, Mrs. Chwe.” You reassured her, sitting patiently as Chan chose to sit across from you. You internally cursed and hoped that Sofia would take the seat next to you, but you didn’t have that much luck. As the girl came into view, she raced Vernon and jumped into the seat next to Chan, leaving Vernon with a glare directed at her. You looked at Vernon and tried to keep a neutral expression, knowing all eyes were basically on the two of you. His black hair was dripping still and he had changed from the clothes he was wearing earlier today. He wore black sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt, which made your heart beat faster. You never noticed that Vernon had muscles before and you were praying to all Gods that you wouldn’t blush upon seeing the way his t-shirt sat tightly against his chest.

“Finally,” His mother said with a sour expression and Vernon chuckled awkwardly, taking his seat next to you. You tensed up when Vernon’s knee knocked into yours underneath the table and Chan just randomly chuckled, making everyone look at him.

“Nothing, sorry!” He quickly dismissed it and greedily grabbed for the ladle to pour soup into his bowl. Vernon kept his eyes on Chan and the younger boy tried to mask his chuckle with a scoff. It was weird but you said nothing as this seemed to be normal for the other people sitting at the table.

“I’m Sofia!” Your eyes fell on the girl sitting next to Chan and you offered her a genuine smile.

“I’m Y/N.” She grinned back at you and stole the ladle from Chan, elbowing him when he filled his bowl to the brim.

“I love this soup, stop it!” He exclaimed loudly and scooted his chair away from the girl, throwing daggers at her.

“You won’t leave anything for us!” Sofia fired back and you sat quietly, your body once again relaxed. Vernon’s hands on the table kept clenching and unclenching and you stole a glance at him, he was watching his sister and friend’s banter with a glare.

“Stop it, kids,” Mrs. Chwe intervened and took the ladle from Sofia once she was done, “You always serve the guest first.”

“It’s alright, don’t worry!” You quickly dismissed her words, offering her your bowl when she raised her hand, “You don’t have to change your habits just because I’m here.”

Vernon’s mother smiled as she handed you back the bowl, “You seem to be the most well behaved here, my dear.”

Your cheeks became hot and before you could dismiss her words, Chan erupted into giggles, “Of course, Mrs. Chwe! Can’t you smell the richness? I could, even from miles away—” Before Chan could finish his sentence, he cried out and jumped a bit, glaring at Vernon, who was glaring at him back. You looked at Vernon and saw how his jaw was clenched and his mother sighed, taking her son’s bowl to pour some soup for him too.

“Rich or poor, Chan, in this house it doesn’t matter, yes?” Her voice was scolding and Chan grew smaller in his seat, as if he realized he wasn’t at his real home here and apologized quietly. Once you started eating your soup, you remained quiet and listened to the casual conversations from around. It wasn’t because you had nothing to say, it’s just that habits are hard to change, and at your house no one spoke while you ate…well, sometimes your mother would, until your father would reprimand her for it. You smiled softly when Sofia talked about her recent trip with her friends to a resort not far from the city and felt a bit bad when Chan confessed that he wouldn’t be going home this month either. You didn’t know his story, but it was obvious how much it bothered him that he couldn’t be there. Vernon answered his mom when he was asked something, but otherwise remained silent like you, stealing glances that you obviously noticed but ignored in order to stop yourself from blushing.

“Did Vernon manage to teach you something today, Y/N?” Mrs. Chwe asked you just as you finished eating and your eyebrows furrowed.

“He tried to…” You muttered and subconsciously threw a glare at Vernon, “But I didn’t do much.”

“You aren’t bad though.” You scoffed and whipped your head towards Vernon, for a second forgetting that it wasn’t just the two of you there.

“Saying that now to seem nice, huh? Who are you trying to impress?” Everyone remained silent at your snappy tone and you grew embarrassed, realizing you were acting out again. It was just getting to you. The atmosphere at the table, how nice everyone was to everyone, how Mrs. Chwe seemed to know her kids and didn’t even have to ask them because she already knew what bothered them. Even Chan was treated well and Mrs. Chwe was babying him, offering him more soup once he was done even though he probably couldn’t eat more. It was obvious that everyone was cared of and loved. Hearing Mrs. Chwe calling you ‘my dear’ wasn’t helping with the void you felt in your chest. It was making your stomach ache when you thought of going home after this, after the picture of a loving family was now forever imprinted into your mind. How were you not supposed to hate Vernon now? He isn’t just perfect at school; his whole life seems to be perfect. Everyone loves him and Chan even looks up at him, Sofia seems to love to tease him and no one seems to be always pressuring him. How am I supposed to look at him without envy?

“I’m sorry, that was rude.” You apologized quickly, realizing you’ve stayed quiet for too long.

“Don’t worry, my son isn’t perfect.” Mrs. Chwe’s words were so contradicting towards your thoughts about him, “Whatever misunderstanding you have going on, I understand. Just solve it quickly so that you don’t stay with a grudge.”

“A misunderstanding even I don’t understand.” Vernon mumbled underneath his breath and you looked at him, eyes widening just a little bit. Now you felt worse and you sighed, pushing your hair behind your back.

“Oh, dear!” Everyone looked at Mrs. Chwe surprised, she was looking at you with her eyebrows furrowed, “What happened to your face?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you touched your face with both hands, looking at Vernon out of reflex since you knew him best from the table, to see if he could see something wrong. His eyes looked into yours for a second before they fell on your cheek. Your heart seemed to come to a stop before it sped up dangerously and you just cleared your throat.

“I’m clumsy sometimes,” It was a script you memorized a long time ago, “I have a cabinet in my bathroom that’s around my height and sometimes when I wake up, I’m dizzy and happen to run into it. That’s what happened.”

Everyone but Vernon seemed to buy it, Sofia even laughed, “You should be more carefully, why did you even put the cabinet there?”

“I wasn’t the designer of the apartment.” You joked with her, throwing Vernon a confused glance as his right leg was moving up and down fast, like when you were anxious. Chan and Sofia giggled as Mrs. Chwe stood to gather the bowls.

“Put some ice on it, it’ll go away.” Her voice was soothing and you felt like her, too, knew your story was a lie; but you decided to ignore it and thank her for lunch once again.

“When is Mr. Chwe coming home?” Chan asked as he stood to help Mrs. Chwe take the bowls to the sink. He saved your curiosity and you were happy that he asked before you could.

“I don’t know,” Vernon answered with a shrug, leaning back in his chair, “He took some extra shifts.”

“Yes, because you just had to buy that expensive car to race with.” Mrs. Chwe snapped from the kitchen and you looked at Vernon.

“I’ve been earning more money ever since, mom. You can’t say I’m not trying to help you.” Vernon got defensive, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Your eyes fell on the contracting muscles and you gulped, reaching for your glass to drink some water. Sofia smirked but looked at her phone when she saw you throwing her a questioning glance.

“As if we weren’t in debt before.” The woman sighed to herself, but everyone heard it, and the cash that Vernon threw back at you yesterday felt heavy in your back-pocket. He wasn’t a charity case, he said it himself, but why not give it to him when you seriously didn’t need it? You looked at Vernon and his eyebrows were furrowed as he sighed quietly.

“Thank you for having me for lunch, but I really have to go home now.” You spoke up and stood up, Vernon following your actions. Sofia shot you a pout but she waved as you walked to the kitchen, Vernon behind you.

“You should come more often.” Mrs. Chwe gave you a pat on the head and you bowed your head, waving at Chan, but as you went to step outside of the kitchen, you stopped. Vernon walked into you and your skin tingled as he grabbed onto your arms, steadying himself. You wanted to curse but focused on what you were about to say as you glanced back, having to look over Vernon’s shoulder. He was taller than you.

“Chan, ask Vernon to give you my phone number and whenever you have free time, call me if you feel like studying a little.” Chan’s mouth fell open and you winked at him, taking off again.

“For free?” Chan shouted after you and you chuckled, weirdly not bothered that Vernon was still holding onto you.

“For free!” You called back and Chan started loudly cheering, making Vernon sigh, “You should do the same, Vernon, the poor kid makes it obvious that he’d like to study.”

“You think I didn’t try doing that?” Vernon scoffed and finally released you as you went to pull on your shoes, “He’s stubborn and refuses to listen to me.”

“I guess my beauty is enough to give him motivation then.” You said cutely and Vernon could have sworn his heart stopped beating. You didn’t notice his sudden freeze up as you grabbed your jacket and phone from your pocket.

“Your beauty…” He muttered to himself as you sent a message to John to pick you up, his answer was immediate.

“So…” You looked back at Vernon, sneakily taking the roll of cash from your back-pocket, “We are meeting tomorrow too?”

“That’s the plan, right?” He asked, his voice sounding a bit chocked up and you ignored it as you nodded. Your eyes fell on the table behind him and your heart picked up when you realized what you’d have to do. You wouldn’t have done it, not in a million years, if it wasn’t your only chance to leave the money at him. Your heart started beating fast and Vernon frowned when he saw you closing the gap between you two. You grimaced to yourself as you let your left arm circle his torso, hugging him briefly. Your right arm extended and just as you managed to drop the cash onto the table, Vernon pulled you into himself. You gasped quietly and noticed how refreshing his scent was and the back of his t-shirt was still wet from his dripping hair that seemed only damp now. The hug didn’t last for long but when you pulled back, both of your cheeks were warm and you couldn’t look at Vernon.

“Uhm, see you tomorrow!” Not wanting to hear his voice and feel more flustered, you quickly opened the door and ran down his driveway, refusing to turn back around to watch him close the door. You could still feel his arms around you and how soft his clothes were despite his body being so firm. I think Yoona is right, I might like Vernon.

You couldn’t help the satisfied cry that left your lips as you took your forth successful turn, drifting just like Vernon taught you. You still couldn’t do it each time you tried, but this was the best you’ve done since you’ve been here so far. Vernon was proud as he gripped onto the board of the car, lips in a wide grin. He wasn’t bothered by how sharp your turns were, throwing him around in his seat even though he was buckled up, he was happy that you were happy. He’s never seen you with such wide smile before, and he was mesmerized. He never thought you could become more beautiful than you already were. Your heart was beating fast again as you decided this was satisfying enough to take a break, Vernon’s been complaining for half an hour now. You slowed the car down and stopped the engine when it finally came to a stop. You let out a breath and relaxed in the driver’s seat, feeling accomplished. You could finally do it; you were sure you needed more practice but you actually did it this time.

“That was pretty cool, Y/N.” You forgot you were with Vernon in the car and you became embarrassed as you looked at him, “Am I still a bad teacher?”

“It took me five hours in total to catch the hang of it, I wouldn’t tell anyone you’re very bright at teaching.” It made Vernon chuckle and you realized what he acted like in school was his real personality, he wasn’t faking anything like some people were. It felt nice to be around someone authentic and you found yourself staring at him. His black hair seemed to have wax on as it was twirled in locks and paired with the red sunglasses he wore it made him look very attractive. He had on some black ripped jeans and underneath his neon green oversized jumper he wore a white t-shirt, you could see the collar of it. When Vernon locked eyes with you, you quickly looked away and picked at the ends of your turtleneck; your knee-length skirt had ridden up a bit and was around your thighs, you’d have to pull it lower soon.

“I gave Chan your phone number,” You looked back at Vernon surprised, you didn’t expect Chan to actually accept your offer, “He said he’ll give you a call next week.”

“That’s fine,” You hummed and brushed your long hair behind your back, “The less time I spend at home, the better.”

You wished you didn’t say that, because it seemed like Vernon just remembered something and his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes searched your face. You did not forget to put on foundation today, so he couldn’t see anything wrong with your skin, but suddenly the area felt on fire. You hoped Vernon wouldn’t bring it up now that he couldn’t see it, but you were wrong.

“Why hide the bruise if I have already seen it?”

“I thought it wasn’t visible anymore, good you told me.”

“Wouldn’t want more people getting suspicious?” Your eyebrows furrowed and Vernon rolled his eyes, looking a little irritated.

“What happened?” You shrugged and sighed, trying to remain neutral.

“I told you yesterday, Vernon—”

“But it’s not the truth.” You rolled your eyes but Vernon’s burning gaze made you want to tell him everything. You didn’t know anymore which feeling was stronger: hatred or liking. But you wanted to tell someone and Vernon was willing to listen, maybe you felt like this because you knew Vernon wouldn’t directly go to the police like Yoona would.

“Everyone at school is jealous of me for being rich, for having everything I want and need. But I don’t have everything, Vernon. My parents don’t love, at least my father doesn’t, my mother barely spends time with me nowadays and the bruise—" You hated thinking of how you got certain bruises, your chest ached. You blocked the memories away and you didn’t think it would be this hard to say it. You were scared of how Vernon would react and what he’d think, would he see you differently? Vernon grabbed your hand and you became stiff, wanting to pull your hand away but keep it there at the same time. It was oddly offering you comfort.

“The truth is that—my father—he—hits me.” You muttered quietly and looked down at your hands, unable to look at Vernon. You didn’t want him to see the tears in your eyes, you hated being vulnerable in front of others. And now you were confused about what you actually felt for Vernon, it wasn’t helping. Vernon’s silence was making you uncomfortable and you glanced up at him, his jaw was clenched. He seemed fine, but his jaw gave him away. You knew he was angry and you sighed, pulling your hand away from his.

“Go to the police, tell on him.”

“No, I can’t do that. He’s still my father.”

“Do you even hear yourself?!” Vernon’s sudden raise of voice made you jump as you looked back at him surprised, “This isn’t a little disciplinary spank a parent does from time to time, Y/N. He’s abusing you!”

You didn’t need someone to tell you, you were well aware of that. You threw Vernon a glare and crossed your arms in front of your chest, “Thanks for stating the obvious—”

“No, don’t do that!” He snapped, undoing his seatbelt in his anger, to be able to turn towards you better, “This isn’t something that can be treated lightly, Y/N! You need to tell someone; he has to stop. He has no rights laying his hands on you, do you understand me?”

“Do you understand that I know but I won’t do anything?” You raised your voice as well, your glare becoming harsh, “If I want my life to be ruined forever, sure, I’ll go tell the authorities.”

“He can’t ruin your life for something he did knowingly that it’s wrong—” His words became white noise as you closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself. Vernon was the last person you needed lecturing from, especially since you were getting this treatment because he was better than you at one fucking subject. Your anger went through the roof and you snaped, unable to take his words.

“Shut up, it’s all because of you!” Vernon’s eyes went wide and he looked so confused, you felt bad for telling him that, “You’re better at English than I am, my father can’t stand that. I have to be best at everything. It’s why I could never stand you, unknowingly you made me hurt. And it’s a shit reason, I know, but it’s true…”

Vernon looked speechless until he started looking regretful and he grabbed your hand again, despite your glare, “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t apologize,” You scoffed, throwing him a look, “It’s not your fault. Don’t worry, I only have to put up with his shit for three more months. I’ll be moving out.”

“Does he know?” Vernon’s eyebrows rose and you scoffed again.

“Of course not. Why would I tell him? He keeps threatening me so I don’t see why I shouldn’t make his threats reality before he gets to proceed with them.” Vernon’s eyebrows furrowed as he thought and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“Come move in with us.” You weren’t expecting that at all and your eyes grew wide as you stared at Vernon. Move in with him and his family? That sounded weird, you could manage on your own too. It wasn’t that hard, right?

“I can’t, that house is already packed with you four and Chan spending his time there too.”

“Sofia would love to have another girl around the house, please?”

“Vernon, this isn’t something you get to decide. That house is your parents’ and I can’t show up unannounced, okay?” Your eyebrows rose at him and he sighed, knowing what you were saying was right.

“Fine, but think about it…” You nodded once and he took his hand off from yours, you uncrossed your arms, “Do you really hate me?”

You thought for a second as you watched him, not knowing how to answer him, because you didn’t know how you felt for him. You didn’t actually hate him, but you did envy him.

“I’m not sure how I feel about you…” You muttered and Vernon sighed, leaning back in the seat, “But I don’t think I hate you. I thought you sucked, but maybe you aren’t that bad.”

It made Vernon chuckle and when he looked over at you, your heart started beating quickly again and you blushed. If you constantly kept reacting like that it meant that you actually felt something more for him, right? Yoona must have been right, she never joked around with things like this one, and you bit your lower lip as the two of you watched each other quietly. You were always bold with others and merciless, not really caring if they got hurt by your words or not. You felt like you gave Vernon the wrong idea and now he might have been convinced that you hated him, which wasn’t true at all. You thought maybe you should be bold for once with your actions too and you cleared your throat, which made Vernon glance at you. He wasn’t making it easier but maybe if he saw you leaning in, he wouldn’t pull away in surprise. So, you leaned over the middle console and with your eyes on his lips, you tried closing the gap but Vernon was too far away. It would have been embarrassing if Vernon had not leaned in as well, pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t as bad as you thought your first kiss would be, his lips were soft and you found that cute. It didn’t last for long either because Vernon seemed to be flustered as he stiffly pulled his head back, looking into your eyes.

“You might not be my favorite person in the world, but I think I like you.” You found yourself saying and Vernon chuckled, scratching the back of his nape as his ears and neck were red.

“Go on a date with me? Even if I lost the bet….” Vernon asked with a cheeky grin, looking just as flustered as moments ago and it made you chuckle.

“I made that bet because I knew you would lose, but sure.” It was time things took a better turn in your life and maybe Vernon was the starting point.

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light-yaers · 3 years

Text

No Saints: Chapter Three

This content is explicit and is 18+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, violence, implied effects of PTSD, death and explicit language.

Read on Ao3 here | Fic Masterpost

Word Count - 6.1k

Chapter Three

By the twelve-day mark, you started getting worried. You knew Mando could take care of himself, that was a given, but you couldn’t stop the anxiety as it shoved its way into your blood stream permanently for three whole days.

Fifteen days and no sign of the Beskar clad hunter. Fifteen days seemed like an awfully long time for him to be gone—unless he was doing that thing again—not coming by to visit you anymore.

You wanted to believe he wasn’t doing that. The last two times you’d been together, he’d made no indication of being uncomfortable, despite the fool you can become under immense arousal and horniness, apparently. You just had to ask him to stay, didn’t you?

You just had to place a kiss upon his fucking helmet.

Stars—maybe he really had decided not to come back.

You busied yourself with work like usual, working through the thoughts and the worry and the fucking stress of not knowing if he was okay. It was stupid; you knew what it meant to be a bounty hunter, you knew the struggle of racing after a quarry, of having to figure out the timeframe of your job, of calculating where to get your fuel from, your Bacta from, your upgrades from—

But still you found yourself feeling incredibly uneasy about the fact he hadn’t returned yet, despite the clear signs of it being a longer job, or a harsher client, or whatever else.

You stopped polishing the blaster you currently had, suddenly frowning at nothing. Your heart panged in your chest, your brow started to sweat, and stars, you felt tears in your fucking eyes.

You didn’t often think about your past, too overcome with the memories of what had gone wrong. You were too young to have been doing what you were doing, but you did it to survive. When there was nothing else in this universe for you, it was the only option—

It was all you knew.

It was just ironic that you ended up settling on Nevarro, another planet crawling with bounty hunters; none of which knew your name. That was something you always kept to yourself. You chose not to even have an alias; they could get messy, fast. Besides, if anyone knew who you really were already, you wouldn’t be alive to even be worrying about the Mandalorian.

You would have been killed as soon as you stepped on the planet, as soon as someone realised who you were.

Mando and yourself had more in common than he’d ever know, and you didn’t plan on telling the hunter about your past—he was still a mystery, still unknown to you, and you didn’t know if he’d simply turn on you immediately after revealing your old alias to him.

You forced yourself to rub your eyes, angrily wiping away the stray tears that you’d allowed to fall down your cheeks. Stars, you knew you had problems about thinking back. You knew your mind was plagued with those memories, you knew you could remember them too vividly, that sometimes you got sucked into them again, in the body of your younger and more naïve self, tripping over rocks and fallen trees and avoiding blaster shots—

“Stop,” You said once, sternly. Your voice echoed throughout your empty shop, before dissipating in the air until there was nothing but white noise filling your ears. You were here, on Nevarro, polishing another fucking blaster and waiting for a glimpse of Beskar. You were here—not there.

You sighed deeply, forcing yourself to stay present, to stay focused upon your work. You cleared up your desk as the sun began to set over Nevarro, casting your shop with an orange and yellow glow that felt pleasant against your bear arms. You took inventory, keeping the door of the shop open all the while you were packing up for the end of the workday. When you were done, you strode to the door, shutting it with a frowning smile as you realised it was another day without seeing Mando.

Stars, if he’s dead, someone is going to pay.

You locked the door sadly, swivelling on your heels and thinking about getting the whiskey out again, when the most subtle of knocks tapped from the metal of the shop door. You were immediately on edge. You rushed to your desk, grabbing your blaster, before you slowly tiptoed towards the door—

Your heart was in your throat, your limbs were frozen in fear, but you felt adrenaline course through your muscles right on time, spurring you forward to be totally on your guard. The knocks sounded again, louder this time, but you didn’t falter. You approached the door, holding the lock with one hand, before you quickly clicked it and swung the door open, aiming your weapon at light speed—

“You told me to knock after hours,” Mando stood in your doorway, arms and gun by his side. You’d guess he wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised at how you looked right now—defensive stance, gun pointed at his skull, breathing shallow and controlled.

This bastard breaks into your shop more than he’s ever knocked. No wonder you were fucking scared.

You let out a stuttering sigh, dropping your weapon, but not quite being able to let go of the adrenaline spike that just slammed through your body.

“What happened to picking my lock?” You stuttered out, annoyed.

“It’s less fun when you expect me to do it,” He replied, and stars, as much as you fucking loved it when he actually joked, now wasn’t the time. You raised hands to your forehead, pushing your hair back and trying to calm yourself down. You were awash with a shaky feeling as your heart continued to try and crawl up your throat.

Mando took a tentative step forward as he saw you on edge, reaching out a hand to touch your arm, but stopping himself before he could. “Hey—,” He began, and you exploded.

“Fifteen days,” You let out slowly, not even trying to cover up the wobble in your voice. You’d been worried sick, you were certain your hair was going to start falling out if he was gone much longer. “Fifteen kriffing days, Mando—,”

“I know, I’m late,” He interrupted, taking a few steps towards you and into the shop. He turned slowly, shutting the door and clicking the lock. A sound you knew well, one that often made you excited, but right now only existed to make you overthink to oblivion.

What if he never came back one day? What if he never came back and clicked that lock again like he always did?

You continued to try and calm yourself down, all too aware of Mando standing behind you. Stars, you wanted to hug him—and that was the most idiotic thing you’d ever admitted to yourself. What the fuck had happened to you? How had this bounty hunter reduced you to an ancient portrayal of a woman; waiting around for him to return, worrying about him when he was gone, feeding him, for stars sake?

“I need a favour,” He spoke up once more, and you scoffed immediately. Maybe it was from hurt, maybe it was from something else, and as much as you wanted to laugh at this situation, all it did was boil your blood.

“Right,” You said firmly, finally turning to face him. You placed your hands on your hips, staring him down like a pig for slaughter.

“I need you as collateral,” Mando said awkwardly. “Karga was expecting me back four days ago. If you’re there, it may just stop him shooting me on behalf of the Guild,”

You froze in your spot. “You’re kidding,” You stated. Mando didn’t reply, he didn’t even move. “You’re not kidding,” You added, bringing a hand to wipe down your face. Fuck. This was just great. “Why me?” You questioned, shooting him an almost scowl.

“He knows you. And Karga loves a pretty face that he can shove shots into, as bad as it sounds,” Mando said honestly. You would have been more pissed if he’d made it up, but it was the truth; Karga was as easy to manipulate with a woman as you were when Mando touched you in any sense. Like butter.

You thought for a moment. As much as you wanted to vomit at the prospect of needing to butter Karga up, you were also doing it to avoid Mando’s execution—

You could live with that. Stars, you could definitely live with that.

But if Karga actually shot him, there was no telling what you’d do to that slimy Guild contact in return. You glanced at Mando, softening your expression. You could tell he felt uncomfortable— he didn’t want to put you in this situation, ever, but he almost had no choice. And stars, you weren’t about to let him go to his death.

“What’s the plan?” You said abruptly. Mando let out a pent-up breath. You heard it trickle from his modulator; relief, thanks.

An hour later and the plan had been laid out. Mando would wait while you went to the bar first. You were wearing the most revealing outfit you owned, just as an added bonus. Your shoulders were bear, your trousers were flush against your skin and your blaster belt fit snuggly around your waist.

“I’m about to enter the bar,” You spoke to your wrist. Mando had insisted on giving you a communicator, just to know when he should rendezvous with you inside the bar. “Give me ten minutes before you come inside,”

“Ten minutes. Copy,” Mando said sternly. Your heart fluttered at his hunter voice—the tone he adopted when he was on missions, out in the galaxy by himself. “You... look good, by the way,”

You almost jumped at his words, as a blush appeared across your cheeks. Not that he could see it, though. He was safely back in the shop, instructed to lock up and bring the keys with him when he made his way to you and Karga.

“I’ll say a proper thank you to that when we both leave the bar alive,” You stuttered back, clenching your jaw painfully. Stars, now wasn’t the time. You muted the other end of the comms line, so noises on Mando’s end couldn’t be heard, before you entered the building.

You knew Karga was at his usual table. His cronies patrolled the booths around him, just waiting to see if any trouble broke out. You approached the droid at the bar, getting ready to order, when Karga spoke up from behind you—

“Back again so soon?” He said. You had to stop yourself from smiling as you turned round to face him. Exactly to plan. “Need a change of scenery, again?” He added, shooting you a smile.

“Am I that predictable?” You sent him one back, playing yourself up to be more of a sweet-hearted being than you were ever capable of actually being. Karga shot out that chesty cough laugh once more, before gesturing his hand to the booth seat opposite him.

You nodded sweetly, practicaly skipping over to sit opposite him.

“Is business any better since our last toast?” Karga began, clicking for glasses like he’d done before and revealing the same blue liquor bottle. You forced yourself to pout slightly.

“It’s been... okay,” You replied sadly. Karga took the bait, leaning in slightly closer to you.

“Oh, I don’t buy that,” He spoke softly. “Money troubles?” He questioned. You nodded sadly, forcing on a small, quivering smile when a droid came over and deposited the glasses on the table. Karga was looking at you the whole time, analysing your face, your body language—you knew he wasn’t an idiot, but he was so easily swayed when it came to women. It was every man’s weakness; almost every man’s weakness.

He filled the glasses up one by one, pushing one over to your side of the table. You took in a sharp breath, raising your hand to the glass before he’d even taken his own fingers away. You let out a giggle, forcing down the sick feeling you had in your stomach at what the fuck you were actually doing.

“Oh—sorry,” You let out, pushing some stray hairs behind your ears and bringing the glass closer to your side of the table.

“It’s no trouble, dear,” Karga said in response. Stars, you wanted to hit yourself. Mando was not getting off easy for this, the bastard. He raised his own glass, bringing it to the middle of the table. “To getting back on your feet,” He proposed. You sent him another puppy-eyed smile, clinking your glass with his and letting it linger, just for a few moments longer than you needed to, before both of you downed your shots.

You made the fucking stupidest face imaginable, playing up the taste of the alcohol as it slinked down your throat once more. You let out a breath. “Is it just me or does it get stronger with every shot?” You and Karga laughed together, as your desire to kick yourself only increased.

“It gets easier eventually,” Karga began. “When you’ve been sitting in the same bar, drinking the same liquor and dealing with the same hunters for as long as I have, it becomes easy,”

You tried not to fucking glow at his subject choice. It was perfect for what you needed to discuss with him.

“Stars, yes, your job,” You replied, acting more interested in him than you had ever been in the seven or so years you’d known the snake. “Tell me about it—oo, who’s your favourite hunter?”

Karga smiled smally, but you could tell by the way his brow had furrowed that you were heading into unchartered territory. He was probably as secretive about his role in the same way you were about your name.

When he didn’t reply, you had to think on your feet. “Sorry, that was probably overstepping,” You let out sweetly. “It’s just... that guy, in all the armour, what was his name—Mando?”

Karga perked up at your mention of him, softening his face back into something more animated and less thoughtful. “Mando, that’s him. Our resident Mandalorian,” Karga explained, going to refill both of your glasses.

“Stars, he’s scary,” You trickled out. You could only imagine what Mando was like, hearing you say all of this while he listened intently on the other end of the communicator. You were never going to live this down, he was probably laughing his fucking Beskar covered ass off. It boiled your blood just thinking about it.

“Scary? No,” Karga scoffed. “He likes to think he is, but our Mando is more heartfelt than a lot of other hunters,” Karga grabbed his glass, raising it to the sky once more. “It’s a shame that he might be dead, but we’ll have to see,” You grabbed yours as well, clinking it with his once more and downing the shot quickly, almost forgetting to put on the dramatics.

“D-dead?” You stuttered out. Karga nodded grimly.

“In both senses, I suppose. He was due back almost five days ago, but he hasn’t arrived. Lateness is not usually tolerated in the Guild. So, he’s either dead, or he’s as good as if he ever comes back,”

Fuck. He wasn’t kidding.

You immediately put on your best pout. “But, that’s so sad. Isn’t he an excellent hunter?” You asked, and Karga immediately nodded, noticing the sadness washed all over your face. You saw him gulp slowly, like he felt bad.

“One of the best, arguably. He’s always been so on the ball. I’d be curious to know what happened this time around, if he’s actually still alive,” You nodded severely, making this conversation out to be incredibly scarring to your poor, weak, womanly heart.

“I hope he’s not dead,” You spoke up. “He’s been good for the Guild, as you say. Probably gets you a lot of credit as his contact, right?” Karga was silent as he went about refilling the glasses for the third time. Stars, you may actually get a bit drunk without meaning to. You hardly drank anymore, unless the situation arose. “I bet being a bounty hunter isn’t easy,” You added, prompting Karga to nod sullenly.

“It’s not an easy profession, not an easy life,” He replied, before perking up slightly and smiling at you widely. “But you don’t need to concern yourself with that, dear. You’re strong for making your home here, for doing what you do, even without hearing about the cut-throat world of bounty hunters and the Guild,”

You nodded in what you tried to get across as thanks, despite the strong urge to throw up. Karga pushed the full glass in your direction once more, and stars, you didn’t want to drink it. Nevertheless, you persisted. You picked up the glass slowly, giving Karga the sweetest eyes you had imaginable—but then Karga looked away from you, shooting his eyes to the door of the bar.

He slammed his glass back on the table as a mixture of happiness and something sinister crossed his face. “Well, well. Mando,” He said. You made a show of gasping, looking round behind you as he approached your table slowly.

“I... I better go,” You spoke quietly, rising up, but Karga stuck out a hand for you to stay sat.

“No, that’s okay, dear. Stay. This won’t take long,” You did as you were told, sitting back in the booth. To your surprise, Mando shoved himself into the booth next to you, until you were pressed up against the side of the seat to show you were fucking terrified.

Terrified. That’s funny.

“Let’s make this quick, Mando. You’re scaring my guest,” Karga added. You made a show of facing forward and being utterly frozen while Mando tilted his helmet in your direction. You had a feeling he was trying not to laugh, and honestly you didn’t blame him. You looked fucking ridiculous.

Mando let out a sigh. “It was an ambush, Karga. I had to hide for two days before getting back on track,”

Karga nodded, but you had a horrible feeling in your gut. He clicked his fingers once and all of a sudden, the table was surrounded by his cronies, all pointing their guns at Mando. He raised his hands slowly in surrender, but you fucking lost it—

“No—wait! Please—,” You stood with your hands out, slightly covering Mando and putting on the shakes like you were an A class actress from Naboo, showcasing her absolute stardom. You looked to Karga, willing tears to pool in your eyes. “Please—there’s so much death. I know it’s not my place, and tell me to be quiet if I haven’t already overstepped every line, but Karga... please don’t kill this man,” You pleaded with him, using all of your strength. “There’s just... so much death,” You let out a shaky breath, descending back to your seat and pushing yourself away from Mando once more.

You allowed two tears to trickle from your eyes, wiping them away in silence, but noticeably so. You prayed this was enough—a crying woman, a shaking body—for him to listen, or at least try to appeal to what you wanted.

Honestly, you were simply trying not to think about the true way you felt, and how it almost matched up with your acting displays right there. The tears, sure, it was a tad overkill for you, but just the thought of Mando being killed in this way was enough to activate your fight or flight—and evidently, fight always came out on top.

“You owe me, Mando,” Karga finally let out, raising his hand to pull away his cronies. They retracted their guns, stepping back once more. “You get three pucks this week, instead of four. And you get half your pay. If you’re late again, I won’t be as kind,” He stated, and Mando nodded once. Karga dropped the pucks on the table, along with half of his pay. Mando picked everything up, placing it in his satchel.

“Loud and clear,” Mando replied sternly, but you could hear the triumph in his voice. He stood from the booth, and you finally let out a breath.

“Karga, I should go, too. Before I cause anymore disruption,” You spoke tentatively, keeping up the act despite it making your gut physically hurt. Karga regarded you kindly, before shooting a stern look at the Mandalorian.

“You owe this woman your life, Mando,” He was blunt. “Walk her out,”

You stood shakily, making your way out of the booth, when you fully tripped up— your foot snagged on the underside of the booth, causing you to topple forward right towards Mando—

He reacted immediately, catching you as you almost fell straight to the floor. Karga let out a small chuckle at the unfolding scene, and as much as you were ready to throw hands, you kept the act up for a few moments longer.

Mando got you back upright, popping you down to stand next to him, before he turned on his heels and immediately went to leave the bar. You shuffled on the spot, nodding at Karga one last time before you scuttled away to catch up with Mando.

When you both left the bar, the anger rose to your surface immediately. You strode off, faster than Mando, heading back to the shop as you disgustingly wiped your hands on your trousers to get any sense of Karga off of you. You muttered to yourself, absolutely seething, all the way back to the inner city.

When you reached the shop, you turned to Mando, a few paces behind you. “Keys,” You demanded. He threw them at you without any hesitation and you caught them swiftly, unlocking your front door and storming inside. God—you were exhausted.

You stormed round to your work desk, grabbing the bottle of whiskey beneath the counter and pulling the cork off aggressively. You downed a large gulp of the liquid, grimacing as it travelled down your throat and settled in your stomach.

Stars— you couldn’t believe you’d actually done that willingly. Your skin felt dirty, remembering the way you’d spoken and the expressions you’d given the old Guild contact made you fucking shiver.

Mando entered the shop, shutting the door behind him, but not locking it this time.

You immediately turned to him, red in the face. “Why didn’t you lock it?” You said, annoyance utterly present in your voice.

Mando stood awkwardly before you. “I... didn’t know if you wanted me to stay or not, this time,”

Fucks sake. This man, after all he’d asked you to do, was still somehow making you feel something. He was so soft, so awkward, stood right before you. He’d known putting you through that was horrible, he’d given you the opportunity to refuse his company.

But stars, you’d just done all of that for him. You didn’t want him to leave, not one bit, never.

You scoffed from a lack of what else to do, too afraid you’d utterly embarrass yourself more by making it clear that, honestly, you’d probably go through all of that shit again just so he didn’t die.

“You’re insufferable sometimes, Mando,” You whispered, knowing that your words sounded harsh. You softened your expression, slamming down the whiskey on your desk. “But not as insufferable as Karga— or these kriffing trousers,”

You suddenly were all too aware of how your waist was being sucked in painfully. You stuck your hands in the waistband, pulling them in an attempt to stretch them out. You took of your blaster belt, letting it drop to the floor as you continued to struggle.

And those chuckles— those goddamn modulated chuckles filled the room. You glared at Mando, watching the way his shoulders were bobbing up and down subtly, the way his helmet was tilted away from you in an attempt to conceal his laughter.

“You think this is funny?” You raised your brows, widened your eyes. As much as you wanted to yell at him, you couldn’t stop the corners of your mouth upturning into a smile. It was uncontrollable.

“No,” Mando said breathily. The bastard was blatantly lying. But—it was hot. And that was the most annoying thing of all.

You steamed towards him, going to give his Beskar chest another smack, until you remembered the pain it had caused two weeks ago. You stopped your balled fist in front of his chest abruptly, and he stopped, turning to face you. A gloved hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, the other one fitting snuggly on your waist.

Alright. He’s used to this now. Good.

“Remember what Karga said, Mando— you owe me your life,” You shot him an amused smile, but his grip didn’t falter on you. Instead, he pulled you in closer, helmet staring down at you unwaveringly.

“Then let me help,” His voice had changed in a matter of seconds from playful, to hungry. The tone slid over your body, forcing you to simply accept his grasp and melt into his embrace. That’s when you gasped—as he knelt to the floor slowly, until you heard the unmistakable sound of his Beskar knee pads making contact with the metal ground.

You didn’t know what the fuck to do—place your hands on his helmet? Place them in your pockets? You had no idea what he was doing, or what he was going to do, but either way, your senses were dialled to a hundred in a matter of milliseconds.

You dared to look down at him, and the sight that beheld you was one that made you cease to breathe; Mando was taking off his gloves. Slowly, gently, finger by finger releasing the leather from around his hands, until he pulled them both off and dropped them to the floor without a care.

The breath caught in your throat the moment his fingers found your waistband. Your cheeks blossomed a neon pink and adrenaline began to pump into every crevice of your body, making you feel everything, every graze, every poke, the heavenly feeling of his fingers finally touching your bear skin.

You took a moment to look at his hands, finally, with nothing to cover them from your eyes. His skin was tan, worn. His finger pads were calloused and rough, scratching at your skin softly like sandpaper, but the sensation was already making your legs wobbly.

Stars, you had to stop yourself from moaning when you felt his fingers reach the buckle on your trousers. He was taking his time, finding his own way around this part of your body that he’d never experienced before, and fuck—you loved it. He heard you, despite his laughter, he heard you complaining about those godforsaken trousers and how they were literally cutting off your blood circulation—

And he was fixing it, and sexily, which was just a massive fucking bonus.

“Is this okay?” He asked quietly. All you could do was nod in response, not being able to find any words to fit the bill. Then, he stopped completely, you groaned as he retracted his hands, having to steady yourself by leaning on his shoulders. You looked down at him, utterly broken, wondering why the hell he’d stopped. “Tell me. Is this okay?” He demanded once more, but with more ferocity. You exhaled shakily, peering into his visor.

“Yes,” You said quickly. “Yes—stars, yes,” The words tumbled from your lips involuntarily, existing only to make Mando latch himself back onto you, fingers travelling up and underneath your shirt with one hand, while the other continued to work on your trousers.

You were in ecstasy, feeling nothing but him, and his warmth—a warmth that was usually taken up by the coldness of his Beskar, but stars, you loved his hands more. The feel of his fingertips, all too aware that he was close to unbuckling your trousers—

And then what? The slow and utterly painful suffering of him peeling them off of you, stopping every so often to place his hands around your bear thighs, or, god forbid, he moved up, finally giving in and making you utterly unwind from the pulsing spot between your legs.

You could almost cry just imagining it, so you had no idea how you’d cope if he actually did all of that—but there was no time to prepare, not after the buckle on your trousers finally opened. Mando unzipped you the rest of the way, being careful not to snag the fabric of your underwear in the metal zip. That’s when his hands reached for your waist, slowly beginning to pull down the suffocating garment.

You had to dig your fingers into his shoulders, otherwise you were going to scream. His hands travelled down your waist, your hips, reaching your upper thighs agonisingly slowly. Your pussy was right in front of him, and stars, you prayed he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of you.

Mando continued his slow descent, taking his time just like you’d expected. His fingers roamed all over, wanting to touch and feel and know every portion of your bear skin that he possibly could. You stifled a whimper, but it only spurred him on—

When he reached your knees, you heard him growl beneath his helmet, and suddenly—he ripped the trousers down to your ankles, causing all of the air in your lungs to disappear as you moaned out freely. Before you had time to lean on him, he was lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his hips as he brought you to the work desk and placed you atop the surface.

“Mando— I—,” You started, but his bear finger trickled up to your lips. Where a leather covered thumb would normally be, it was now replaced with his bear thumb, swiping back and forth over your bottom lip and making your gut coil with arousal. Fuck—you were putty in his hands.

“Not finished yet,” He growled out, almost threateningly. It made you squirm, as your gut continued to scream within you. He dragged his fingers down your legs, allowing his nails to scratch you all the way down, until he reached your ankles. One by one, he pulled the fabric off of you, opting to throw the trousers behind him after they were completely off.

You stared at him, not stopping to think about what you looked like. He was up close, he could see the arousing droop of your eyelids, the way your mouth was permanently dropped open as a shaky flow of air flooded in and out of your aching lungs, the blotches of red blush that speckled your cheeks, like freckles that only appeared when he was this close to you.

He gripped you with a ferocity that you fucking craved. His fingers felt every bump, every scar, every dimple that your thighs had to offer, as he pushed himself further between your hips suddenly. You yelped out in pleasure, having no other option but to wrap your arms around his shoulders and push him closer—

Closer to your sweet spot, your poor and utterly aching pussy that had been waiting for a moment like this for a collection of agonising months.

“What’s your name?” He whispered through the modulator. You froze up immediately, as your heart catapulted into your throat. You didn’t move, you didn’t speak, maybe you didn’t breathe for a few moments, until you realised you were running out air, spluttering out a shaking breath.

Mando slowly peeled you from your grip around his shoulders, but he kept you close—he just wanted to see your face, to see your eyes and the expression you held; one of utter surprise—

One of utter terror.

“I’m—sorry,” He stuttered out, upon seeing the fear washed all over your face. “I let my curiosity get the better of me,”

Stars, you were an odd pairing, weren’t you? A man with no face and a woman with no name, with their limbs wrapped around each other and holding on for dear life, taking in every shudder and moan and growl and feeling.

“It’s okay,” You finally spoke, albeit in a coarse whisper, having lost your voice amongst all of the events. You allowed yourself to smile at him sadly. “I—I’m scared,” You let out involuntarily, just from the simple look of his fucking helmet. God, you’d spill everything to that helmet if you could—

You’d spill your past, you’d spill your present, you’d spill just how much you wanted him to fuck you.

“You don’t have to,” Mando replied, bringing a hand to your face slowly. You shuddered, shutting your eyes as he placed his palm against your cheek. His hand, his actual hand, laying upon your face for the first time. Your stomach swelled with a warmth you could no longer control.

“I want you to know my name,” You admitted, keeping your eyes closed. Mando was slow and gentle, as his fingers roamed the entirety of your face. They fluttered across your forehead, swiped down the bridge of your nose and trickled over your lips, working their way back up around your cheeks and repeating the pattern all over again.

Stars, this was it. You were about to tell him your name, your actual name, not your old alias. No one in the galaxy, besides your very long-gone family, knew your birth name. It was sacred to you, and you held onto it for dear life. But this—

You were trying to rationalise your decision. You wanted him to know it, you wanted him to call you it, whether that was like this, close and sweating and fucking hot, or slumped in your usual chairs, laughing about useless bullshit. You wanted him to yell it, as you gave him pleasure or opened yourself up to him completely—

You felt him tense, stopping the usual pattern of his fingers over your face—because, stars, you’d just blurted it out, right then and there, while you were still thinking about whether to say it or not—your name. He knew your name.

You’d just pulled the trigger, sent the bullet flying and fucking shot yourself in the foot by mistake.

You fluttered your eyes open, taking in the unwavering gaze of his chrome visor and noticing that, despite his tension, his hand was still on your cheek warmly. His hips were still placed within yours, one of his arms still holding your legs tightly around him.

But fuck—that’s what he said it back to you.

As clear as day in his modulated drawl, sounding out the letters and letting it trickle from beneath his helmet into your ears. Honestly—you could have cum right there. You felt your entire body shudder as the sound of him saying your own name floated over, fucking destroying any sense of composure that you had left.

It only made him grip onto you tighter. “I like it,” He added, after noticing the wreckage he’d done to you, just by saying a simple name.

Your eyelids drooped even further, as a sudden and inconsolable exhaustion flooded over you. “I like it when you say it,” You let out, not fully knowing what the hell you’d just admitted to him. Mando seemed to like it either way, as he flicked his fingertips over the side of your jaw, placing a few strands of loose hair behind your ear.

“Now, I’m finished,” He said, as he slowly began to retract himself from you. You were ashamed of yourself as soon as you heard the whine that left your lips. It was somewhere between a no and a please stay, but you couldn’t understand which came through more.

Mando let out a soft chuckle, before he slipped his arm underneath your knees, the other coming up to grab you beneath your shoulder and wrap around your back. He carried you, bridal style, to your bedroom, popping you down on your bed before you could protest.

When he stood, you grabbed onto the closest thing of his—his hand. Your fingers held his own, feeling the groves of his prints and the roughness of his calloused skin; but you loved them. God, you loved them. You weren’t going to get over his hands anytime soon.

“Mando,” You spoke up, causing his gaze to move from your hand to your face. “Thanks for the help,” You finished, before unapologetically curling yourself into a ball and basically immediately, falling asleep.

“You’re welcome,” He whispered out, but you weren’t in any position to hear him properly.

That meant you didn’t hear him say your name once more, rolling it over his tongue slowly, before leaving you to your dreams.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin #x reader #star wars #star wars fic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #ao3 #wattpad #pedro pascal #reader insert #pedro pascal fanfiction #smut and angst #smut and fluff #hurt and comfort #no saints #no saints fic

66 notes · View notes

paranetics · 4 years

Note

hiya could you do a kiadam for 17. and 22.? if your not too busy. thanks !!

17. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…” 22. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

He’s completely minding his own business, being friendly with his physics textbook, all pressed up against the end of the bookshelf in the library, successfully having a love affair with headache-inducing math equations, when Mira ambushes him.

“Hiya,” she says, suddenly right in his face.

“Aisghls!” he gurgles, in a completely manly way, thank you. She sits back on her heels and laughs at him, loud and mocking. He scowls at her.

Her braces are blue now, matching the streaks in her hair. She looks nice, he decides, all neon green and blue. The loudness of her wardrobe suits her -- she’d be strange to him if she ever tried to tone it down.

“Oh, man, you should’ve seen your face.”

“Fuck you,” Kai snaps, smoothing out the pages of his book. “I am busy learning how to destroy the AP Phys exam. Stop being a distraction.”

She pouts at him. “Come on, you're seriously not still mad at me about the ceramic pig.”

“I’m always going to be mad at you about the ceramic pig,” he says primly. Then he sighs, unable to resist. “What’s up?”

Her smile turns bright, and his heart does that familiar little stutter. Kai has always, always loved her. Sure, she’s Adam’s best friend and has inclinations more Reeve-based, but there’s always going to be something about her that just catches him in the right spot. He’s over it now, and he has erm, other areas of interest, but she’ll always be special.

“Nessa’s having a party--”

“Ugh,” Kai interrupts.

“--with alcohol--”

“Double ugh.”

“And cute boys will be there,” Mira wheedles, whipping out her best puppy-eyes.

“I don’t care,” Kai says, shuffling away from her and looking back at his textbook. The particles will... he reads.

“Adam will be there,” she tries. Obvious trump card. Goddammit.

He cuts his eyes toward her, calculating. She’s grinning, triumphant, confident that she’s got him. He groans internally, because it’s either that he goes to this party and enjoys at least twelve percent of it, or Mira and Adam will wake him up from a dead sleep sometime in the AM, drunk and needy.

Part of his resistance is a lie, he always likes parties. He doesn’t like Vanessa, but she’s Reeve’s friend, and by proxy, Mira’s friend. He can pretend to like her for one night, especially if he gets to hang out with people. What can he say, extroversion. It’s a disease.

It’s just, recently, there’s been this trend. It’s like he’s been cursed.

Kai pretends to think about it.

“Fine,” he grits out.

“Yay!” Mira says, standing up and doing a little celebratory wiggle. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and unlocks it. “I’ll add you to the group text. Also, I want Reeve to drive me so you’re taking Adam alone okay bye.”

“Huh,” Kai says as she speed-walks away from him. “What? Hey!”

But she’s gone, vaguely eucalyptus-scented-shampoo left in her wake. Alone? With Adam? Fuck.

His phone buzzes.

Group: party 🎉🥂🥳🎊 time

mirakat added humantorchkai to the group

abeaverdam: Oh he’s coming?

lochnessa: Damn I didn’t know he left his house anymore

mirakat: ya i cornered his ass in th library

mirakat: hes a total slut 4 skool

mirakat: kais my bitch tho lol so ya hes comin

mirakat: dam hes drivin u

abeaverdam: Is that ok kai?

humantorchkai: yeah

humantorchkai: when?

lochnessa: Friday.

Kai’s late to first period on Wednesday, which Reeve notices, and bugs him about for ten minutes straight. He rolls in twenty minutes after the bell, wearing the clothes he left on his bedroom floor, all rumpled up and disorganized, and without a note. He drops into his seat and makes it approximately two minutes before Reeve leans over, into his space, and starts the interrogation.

“Oh my God,” Kai says to the ceiling. “For the last time, my alarm didn’t go off.”

“My Spidey-senses tell me you’re a liar,” Reeve says, and seriously, what does Mira see in this complete dork? He’s so nosy.

Kai drags his gaze from the ceiling to stare at him. “I think your janky-ass ‘spider-sense’ needs a psych eval.”

Reeve crosses his arms and sniffs at him. “Rude. I thought we were friends.”

“We are--” Kai scrubs his hands through his hair violently, frustrated. He catches the smirk on Reeve’s face. “Hey! That doesn’t work on me anymore. I’ve evolved.”

The smirk doesn’t leave Reeve’s face.

The truth is, Kai’s late because he had a nightmare. Or a wet dream. Depends on your definition of either thing. It’s been reoccurring pretty consistently, and Kai always wakes up from it breathing hard, adrenaline in his veins, and a hard-on. Today just happened to be shittier, and he couldn’t get back to sleep right away, so he overslept when his alarm went off.

It’s pretty much the worst, been happening for almost a month, and Kai is slowly losing his mind. But. whatever, the important part is this: he’s with Adam, and Adam kisses him. They could be in space, or in a submarine, or whatever Kai’s subconscious feels like cooking up. They could be anything, pirates, elven rebel warriors, it doesn't matter. In every dream, Kai’s with Adam, and at some point Adam leans over, the smell of Hennessy whiskey on his breath, and kisses Kai.

It’s why Kai’s been so rigid lately, avoiding his friends and refusing to go to parties, because of what happened Last Time he’d gone.

Mad Libs! Fill in the blanks, Sherlock.

He’s so totally, totally, totally screwed. And no one is allowed to know, not even Reeve, who knows Adam’s a flirty drunk and that Kai’s pathetic, and hasn’t even told anyone any of Kai’s other secrets, because this? This is world-ending levels of FUCK.

So, when the bell rings, Kai basically sprints out the door to avoid Reeve.

Group: party 🎉🥂🥳🎊 time

speedyskeet: should i bring da weed

reever: ohhh shiiiit hell yeah

lochnessa: No LSD though

speedyskeet: :O

speedyskeet: um ok MOM

reever: wtf ness

reever: psychedelic rights!!!

speedyskeet: let me get us fkd up!!

mirakat: wait didnt we hav 2 call an ambulance 4 coop last time u brought more than weed to a party

mirakat: or was tht a different school

speedyskeet: .........

speedyskeet: ok so im assuming edibles and my bong right

Kai takes his lunch to Mr Tucker’s room.

Mr Tucker is the APUS history teacher for the senior class, and he is the only non-STEM teacher that Kai likes. Mira is also his favorite student, so he lets them eat lunch in his room. It’s better than fighting for a spot in the crowded cafeteria, and Kai likes hiding from the rest of the student body.

Adam, Reeve, and Mira are sitting at one of the table groups when Kai walks in with his plate of chicken nuggets, Vanessa and Skeet nowhere to be seen. They’re probably getting high in the parking lot.

Mr Tucker is scrolling through youtube, his computer desktop displayed on the projector screen.

“Why’d you look up Nyan cat?” Kai asks, tilting his head as he watches Mr Tucker scroll.

“It’s stuck in his head,” Mira pipes up, helpfully.

Mr Tucker grunts confirmation and apparently selects the version he likes. Reeve groans when it starts playing, slumping forward over his tuna salad. Mr Tucker picks up his normal vegetable-based salad, his bushy mustache wiggling in that way that means he’s smiling.

Kai sits next to Reeve, across from Adam. Mistake, Kai realizes too late. Big mistake. Because now they have to make eye contact, and Kai’s belly catches fire at the memory of drunkAdamhe’sKISSINGMESOMEONEHELP when he looks down at his plate of chicken nuggets. It’ll be obvious on his face in a few moments, he’s never been able to fight off a blush well, and then there’s going to be Questions. Capital-Q Questions.

But Reeve’s talking about, like, whatever drama majors talk about, and when Kai chances a peek up, Adam’s not looking at him. So.

Kai can’t help it, okay? He’s creepy. Sue him. No wait, that’s not-- ugh.

Kai studies the contours of Adam’s face while he’s not looking. His high cheekbones and his sharp chin. His heavy eyebrows that are shaped perfectly (”Ugh, you’re so fucking gross,” Reeve had said when Kai had voiced this thought aloud. “His eyebrows? I think you need to ask him out. Get it out of your system.”) and his eyes are that warm shade of brown, almost gold, soft and kind.

His hair is longer now, and errant curls flop over his forehead and around his ears. Kai watches the long line of Adam’s throat when he tilts his head back from the force of laughing at something Reeve said. Kai’s transfixed by the inviting stretch of dark skin, entertaining a thought of leaning over and just biting down so it’s not his fault he doesn’t see it coming when Reeve violently jabs him in the rib.

Kai jumps. “Ah! What the fuck?”

“Language,” Mr Tucker says in the toneless inflection of someone who doesn’t really care but responds on reflex. He’s now scrolling through Seasame Street videos.

Reeve shrugs, unrepentant. “You were gone there, dude.”

“Yeah,” Adam agrees, eyebrows raised in polite curiosity. “Planet Zenon gone.”

Kai ducks his head. “I’m, uh, stressed about AP physics?” he tries.

“Uh-huh,” Reeve says, “and are you asking us to confirm that for you?”

“Leave him alone,” Mira interrupts mildly. “Only, like, a hundred people a year get above a three on that exam.”

“Wow, how is that class still funded?” Adam asks.

“Elitism?” Mira guesses. “Maybe it’s like, a torture thing. Like, a test within a test.”

“What,” Reeve says, “like, if you pass you can become a super-secret spy?”

“Or I can, like, do another Chernobyl. Or I’m allowed secret access to government secrets. Ooh, maybe they’ll tell me the moon is a projection into the sky.” Kai says, warming to this idea.

“Then how would they explain waves?” Reeve asks.

“Uh, giant wave pool,” Kai answers.

“Hot take: the world is in a giant wave pool,” Mira grins at him.

Adam blinks almost in slow-motion, the sweep of his eyelashes against his cheeks, a smile growing on his face, and Kai is once again caught like a fly in honey. Just like that, all the saliva is gone from Kai’s mouth, and he’s completely lost the thread of whatever’s happening around him.

Okay, so, recap: totally, totally, totally screwed.

adam: U sure you’re ok driving me?

kai: dam i swear its fine

kai: i’d say something if it was a problem

kai: my parents have been trying to kick me out basically every weekend, this’ll make them so fucking happy

adam: Lol

adam: [A stock photo of two white parents sitting on a beach towel in a tropical location, smiling adoringly at each other. In the blurry background, a toddler with similar skin color and hair is being attacked by a seagull.]

“There is a PROBLEM!” Kai announces, flopping heavily onto his bed, tossing an arm dramatically over his forehead. Mira doesn’t even look up at him.

“Hm?” she says from the floor, knees drawn up to her chest, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. She’s looking more at her iPad than at him.

“Oh my God,” Kai groans. “You don’t even care. I’m nothing to you. You enjoy my suffering.”

“Die white man,” Mira says tonelessly. “I’m trying to beat my old high score in Tetris. What’s your damage.”

“I have nothing to wear on Friday,” Kai moans, pained.

“What? Why do you even care? Your regular clothes are fine.”

“Oh my God, Mira! It’s a party,” Kai breathes the word like its holy, a precious thing nestled in the crook of his tongue, not to be defiled by people who wear school clothes to special events. “And I want to get hit on.”

“I’ll hit on you,” Mira promises. The iPad makes a wah-wah-wah sound. She sighs, setting it aside and looking up at him, expression thoroughly unamused, clearly blaming him for her high-score loss.

“I did not do that,” Kai says. The blood’s started rushing to his head, so he sits up and blinks away the black spots as they dance in front of his vision. “I just wanna be hot,” he whines.

“Okay, so, wear that stupid blue button-up with the tigers on it, and the black skinny jeans. It brings out your eyes,” she elaborates. “And tucked-in button-ups are hot on dudes. Oh, and--”

“If you’re gonna Queer Eye me, I swear to God,” Kai complains.

“Will you just... I was gonna say you should wear a tiny bit of eyeliner. It’s like, accentuating your features or some shit.”

“Why should I trust you?” Kai asks playfully. “I’ve never seen you go anywhere near a make-up in my life.”

Mira shrugs. “I saw it on Instagram. Anyways, Reeve said I have ‘good bone structure’, what does that even mean?”

“That he’s an idiot and I can’t believe you’re into him?” Kai ventures. Mira glares at him, so Kai leans back on the bed, rolling his eyes up to the bedroom ceiling at the glow-in-the-dark stick-on stars that have been there since he was seven. “Okay, okay. He was probably trying to compliment you, but since he’s a robot sent by aliens to infiltrate the earth he did it in a really bizarre way.”

Mira perks up. “You think?”

“He said ‘good’.”

“What should I say back?”

“Erm, that you’ll have his babies?”

Mira throws one of her glittery highlighter pens at him. It bounces off the center of his forehead and onto his lap. He laughs, picking it up and tossing it back.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe say that you like his bones, too.”

Mira takes out her phone.

adam: [A picture of a pina colada sitting on a kitchen counter in a pool of sunlight.]

adam: Winky face

kai: you could just like, use the emoji keyboard instead of typing it out

adam: Don’t make me frowny face

Kai spends fifteen minutes messing with his hair in the mirror. He gels it sticking up, twists his mouth critically at his reflection, and wets his hands to wipe it out. Nothing’s working for him today. It’s just one of those things, his clothes seem to hang off him awkwardly, and nothing looks right.

He makes a sound of frustration, and his mom pokes her head into the bathroom.

“Oh,” she says. “I thought you were going to a party?”

“Mom,” he growls. “I’m getting ready!”

“Hm.”

She pushes the door all the way open, surveys him from head to toe, and reaches over to run a hand through his hair, leaving parts sticking up in her wake. Kai looks in the mirror. Now, instead of awkward ‘trying-too-hard’, he looks artfully tousled. He unbuttons two top buttons of his tiger shirt, and messes with the collar to make it look like someone had grabbed it and reeled him in for a kiss. He grins at himself.

“That’s better, I think,” she says.

“Thanks Mom,” he says, shuffling past her and out to the hallway.

“Limit yourself to three drinks!” she calls as he stuffs his feet into old converse. “If you get too intoxicated to drive, spend the night! Just text! Don’t forget to wear condoms and--”

Kai shuts the door in her face.

His car is a silver Prius, owned five times prior to him. The interior always smells a little bit like shamrock shake and in the winter requires a prayer and three engine turnovers to start. Kai loves it.

He pulls up to Adam’s street and texts without looking that he’s close. He parks in the street, and jogs up to Adam’s front door. He raps his knuckles on Adam’s door, the red one with caterpillar decals, and a blue handprint on the doorknob.

Adam throws open the door. “Gimme a sec, gotta grab my jacket.”

He’s wearing a white shirt and Kai’s favorite jeans of his (do Not judge him, okay, liking your crush’s ass is basically a given and is no longer considered a sin under the New Testament, so really Kai’s not weird for liking this pair of Adam’s jeans because it accentuates his butt.), the ones with rips in the thigh and at both knees, because Adam lives reckless and dies reckless.

He jams his feet into vans and grabs the heavy olive jacket off the coatrack and follows Kai out to the Prius.

“You look nice,” Adam says, offhand. Kai feels how hot his face immediately gets and hopes it isn’t ugly, sometimes his blushes look like a rash.

“Thanks,” he says, rubbing his neck, right hand fumbling for his keys.

They slide into their seats, and Kai is hit with the violent-sense memory of Hennesy whiskey, and dark streetlamps, and Adam’s soft voice and brown puppy-dog eyes imploring Kai, look at me. Look at me, please. And. And.

His phone buzzes.

“Oh, Vanessa wants us to pick up some soda,” Kai says through the rock in his throat.

“Ooh, ooh. Cherry 7-Up, Jarritos Lime, uh like, a ton of Mountain Dew... and Coke! We’ll need Coke,” Adam rambles as Kai pulls away from the street and heads toward the local general store.

mira: WHERE

mira: R

mira: U

mira: 2

mira: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kai frowns at his phone. They’re in the check-out line, waiting for their turn with about three tons of soda on the conveyer. Kai’s got a fifty dollar bill from his parents, because they’re stupidly open-minded, but he’s still gonna make Vanessa pay him back. Adam’s inspecting the tabloids, making comments about all of the covers and whatever he thinks about them.

kai: WE’RE

kai: FUCKING

(Not sent !) kai: GETTING

(Not sent !) kai: DRINKS

mira: FUHDUK WHATTTT!!!?????????

Kai groans.

The party’s already alive by the time Adam and Kai get there, music thrumming against the walls of the house, the glass panes of the windows shaking with the vibrations. Weighed down by plastic bags full of drinks, and a little bit anxious, Kai fumbles with the door handle three times until Adam reaches over him and opens it.

The crowd is huge. He didn’t even know that Vanessa and Skeet knew this many people. There’s a wall of heat that hits them when they step inside, the difference between the inside and outside must be a solid ten degrees. Most people are crammed in the living room, near the speakers, where a sort of impromptu dancefloor has evolved. There are plenty of people lining the hallways, sitting on the stairs, and spilling over into the other places of the house.

Vanessa has changed the lightbulbs to fuschia, cobalt, and teal colors, so the house looks almost like a club from a TV show. There’s this haze over everything - and, yep, definitely Skeet’s weed - that makes it seem smoky and mysterious. Adam kicks the door shut behind them as they begin to navigate the crowd.

Skeet’s leaning against one of the walls, talking to a tiny girl with piercings and too much eyeliner. She tosses her head, her hair flying up like a halo for a moment, luminescent in the multicolored lights of the house, and leans closer to Skeet. She’s holding a red solo cup, Skeet’s holding weed, and Kai’s arms are starting to hurt from all the soda.

“So, your, like, real name is Skeet? What kind of name is that? I mean, like, who does that to their kid?” she’s asking, valley girl accent and everything, even twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

Skeet shrugs, unbothered. “My parents are hippies.” he spots them, then, and lifts his joint in a get over here gesture. Kai and Adam shove some people to stand in front of him. He grins. “Oh, dudes, nice. You got drinks. I wasn’t sure if you would, since Mira told us that you, uh, made a pit stop.” he waggles his eyebrows.

Kai groans, flushing.

“Uh, yeah,” Adam says, lifting up his bags. “for drinks? Hello?”

Skeet leers, grin stretching bigger. Kai scowls. He’s going to eat her one day, all Hannibal-Lecter style.

“Where is Mira, anyway?” he cuts in before Skeet says anything weird. “Where should we put the drinks?”

“Oh, just, you know,” Skeet makes a vague gesture with his hand that doesn’t really mean anything. “I think I saw her in the kitchen?”

“Thanks,” Kai mutters, shoving through the crowd and deeper into the house.

Mira and Vanessa are leaning against the sink, Reeve’s standing at the counter, completely covered in bottles of alcohol, thumb and forefinger at his chin like he’s surveying fine art.

“Oh! You made it! I hate vodka without coke,” Mira says, striding forward and grabbing the bags from Adam.

Kai followers her back to the counter, and shoves the receipt into Vanessa’s limp hands without looking at her. Together, Kai and Mira start to set up the drink line, stacking up all the empty red cups at the edge of the counter as they try to make sure all the soda and alcohol are equally accessible. How Skeet even gets this stuff... he shudders to think.

Kai waits until Adam and Reeve have wandered out of earshot to lean into Mira’s space. Vanessa had vacated the premise the moment it looked like any physical work would be happening, so he doesn’t worry about her particular brand of nosiness. He takes his phone out of his pocket and tilts the screen so she can see it.

“My texts didn’t send,” he tells her in a low voice. “We weren’t actually, you know.” he flushes violently.

Mira shoots him a grin. “No, I guessed that something had happened. It was just funny. You look nice.”

He smiles at her, genuinely, which means his gums are probably showing. She looks nice too, in her little black dress with a flared skirt and combat boots. The neon green streaks in her hair glow in the weird light of the house.

“I like your outfit,” he says. The din in the background is starting to grow. More people have probably showed up.

She nods at his jeans. “Cuffed jeans. The true mark of a bisexual.”

Kai nods very seriously. “I can’t leave my house without announcing every aspect of my sexuality to the entire world.”

Adam’s talking to a group of people at the other end of the kitchen, his smile is blindly white in the pink light, skin pitched a shade darker, a stark difference against the glow of his white shirt. Staring, unable to look away, Kai steals Mira’s cup and takes a swig. It’s straight vodka, so Kai coughs immediately when it hits his tongue.

Mira laughs at him.

Group: party 🎉🥂🥳🎊 time

speedyskeet: do any of u know anyone named travis montery

mirakat: no

lochnessa: No

abeaverdam: Nope!

humantorchkai: no

reever: nah

speedyskeet: fucking L lmao

speedyskeet: im kicking this fool out then

Kai’s wandering around, pleasantly buzzed from two Cherry 7-Ups with a tiny bit of vodka, looking for any familiar face. Mira and Reeve had abandoned him pretty much straight away, he’d left Adam alone in the kitchen, and he’s actively avoiding Vanessa.

He stumbles around, moving his shoulders a bit in time with the music, his body gone languid and loose from the heat and the alcohol and the atmosphere.

His phone beeps at him again. He really hopes it's not Skeet checking with them before he bounces a guy again. It’s just Mira, he sees, when he’s fumbled his phone out of his back pocket. He has to squint to read in the pink light amid the thrumming bodies of people all around him.

Eventually, he escapes the crowd and heads down the stairs to the “game room” and finds another living room, with a soft white carpet and a couch in front of a big flatscreen. There’s a group of about a dozen kids, plus Kai’s friends, sitting on the carpet in a circle by the couch, with a beer bottle laying on a Monopoly game board. Kai blinks, the lights here aren’t fun colors, and everyone in the circle raises their arms and cheers when they see him.

He walks over to them. Mira grabs his arm and begins to drag him onto the carpet beside her. The group begins to chant.

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!”

Oh, no fuck, Kai thinks, beginning to resist Mira’s grip on his arm. His drink is sloshing about, and Kai holds it away from his shirt and pants as he tries to reverse his crouch and pull his arm back. Skeet reaches up and confiscates the cup, downing the rest of it in one go.

“Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle! Spin the bottle!”

But he’s buzzed and his coordination is spotty, so when Adam reaches out with his hand and spins the beer bottle, Mira tugs once, hard, and Kai crashes onto the carpet, and the bottle spins,

and spins,

and spins.

And points the neck straight at Kai’s disheveled spot in the circle.

So, let’s revisit that cursed theory, shall we?

Kai looks at Adam, and Adam looks at him. He’s got that dopey half-smile on his face, and his pupils are blown wide, iris a thin gold ring around them. Kai knows when Adam’s drunk, or blackout, and he’s tipsy right now, just like Kai. And... oh no. But the kids in the circle are jeering, giggling delightedly.

“Uh,” Kai says.

Adam licks his lips, and Kai tracks the movement of his tongue helplessly. His eyes are moving on Kai’s face, like he’s cataloging everything, like he can’t keep them still. Kai’s mouth is very, very dry, and he misses having the cup in his hand.

“So, uh,” he says, and the tension buzzes even harder. “Is this, like, a kissing thing?”

Skeet grabs him by the arms and manhandles him up. Reeve and Vanessa grab Adam and start frogmarching them down the short hall toward some rooms and closed doors.

“No,” Skeet says, “This is more like a seven minutes in heaven thing.”

“Wait,” Kai says. Skeet reaches past him and opens a door. “Wait.” Skeet pushes him in, and Adam follows behind. “Wait.” The door clicks shut, then there's a clunk, then the sound of something heavy being pushed against the door.

Kai tries the knob, but it's locked. He jiggles it, but his muscles won’t cooperate and yank hard enough. Adam could probably break it open, but Kai has the vague thought of Vanessa’s parents and property damage, and underage drinking.

“Guys!” Adam yells. He pounds on the door with his fist. “Guys! This isn’t funny!”

But they don’t answer.

Evil. Mental note: make sure your friends aren’t evil next time.

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while,” Kai sighs, giving up on the door.

They’ll just have to wait out the seven-minute sentence. It’s simultaneously worse and so much better than the alternative. This way, Adam won’t have to kiss Kai if he doesn’t want to. But also: he won’t have to kiss Kai if he doesn’t want to. It’s a testament to how drunk all of them really are.

Kai turns, presses his back against the door, and slides down it, pulling his knees to his chest, wrapping his hands around his shins, and resting his cheek on his knee. He surveys the room. It’s small and dark, Kai doesn’t have the wherewithal to search for the light switch, but from what Kai can see it looks like a guest room no one ever uses and has accumulated with old junk. There’s a tiny window at the opposite wall that leads up to the lawn. Adam groans and drops onto the ground beside Kai.

The night is clear the moonlight is touching the window and peeking into the room. Adam’s shirt is glowing against his skin from the moonlight, his eyes a bright point in the semi-dark of the room. Kai locks eyes with Adam, and the tension from earlier crops back up tenfold.

This situation is... stupidly pointed. Kai’s pretty sure Reeve is the only person in the world who knows Kai thinks Adam is kinda hot, but he’d also have to be massively stupid to ignore the strain in their friend group lately.

Adam’s looking at him the way he does right before he reaches out to touch Kai’s hair, or brush his fingers against Kai’s freckles, or leans over to kiss Kai’s cheek. He’s looking at Kai like a hungry man, like he’s about to make the stupidest decision of his life and never look back. Kai can feel the pull of that look drawing him in, the temptation to run his hands against Adam’s chest, touching his shoulders or his mouth.

So Kai does the only thing he can think of.

“What did you think of that new Hey Arthur episode?”

Adam blinks at him. “Uh. You mean that kids show?”

Kai bites his lip and nods vigorously.

Totally. Totally. Totally screwed.

reeb: [A video of Mira on the dancefloor among a huge throng of teens. The song in the background is completely drowned out by people attempting to sing along drunkenly. She’s grinding against Vanessa, who’s wearing Skeet’s sunglasses and drinking a mimosa with a cocktail umbrella in it.]

(Not sent !) kai: let us out of here!!! its been like 15 mins!!!! guys!!! dam’s phone is dead!!!!!

(Not sent !) kai: goddamn it COME GET US

(Not sent !) kai: NOTHING IS SENDING!!

reeb: lol wya we cant find dam either

(Not sent !) kai: YOU LEFT US IN THE BASEMENT

“Ugh,” Kai says, flopping back down onto the pillows beside Adam. At some point during their imprisonment slash debate on the ethics of twenty-three seasons of the same children’s cartoon, they’d moved from the floor to the twin bed. “I’m pretty sure they forgot about us.”

“Well, it’s been like thirty minutes. And they’re drunk.”

Kai’s starting to sober up. He has to pee, and his mouth tastes like cherry coughdrops. He stands up on the bed, bouncing a bit on the mattress. He reaches up and touches the seam of the window and the sill.

“What are you doing?” Adam asks, trepidation in his voice.

“Uh, escaping?” Kai says.

Kai presses his foot onto the upside down elliptical that’s propped precariously against an old wardrobe. He puts some of his weight on it, testing. Satisfied that it won’t give, Kai lifts himself up onto it, closer to the window, and pushes against the glass pane. The window opens out suddenly, making Kai wobble. The wardrobe groans.

“Careful!” Adam barks.

Kai glances back at Adam, his worried eyes watching Kai from the bed, sitting up on his knees in a half crouch. Kai sticks his head out the narrow window, then his shoulders, and manages to drag himself up and out.

He turns back around and offers his hand to Adam.

“Come on,” he says. “I’ll help you out.”

Adam climbs up onto the elliptical like Kai had, reaches his right hand to Kai’s left and uses his left to leverage himself closer to the window. The wardrobe and the elliptical make that sound again, like they’re scraping together.

“Hurry!” Kai says, afraid of the whole makeshift apparatus falling apart. Adam’s left palm slaps against Kai’s right and Kai pulls.

The elliptical falls over as Kai yanks Adam up, a great big crash resounding in the room they just escaped. Kai’s momentum and Adam’s weight makes Kai step back once, then twice, then his footing goes and he sprawls onto his back, Adam on top of him, in one big undignified heap.

Adam looks down at him. He looks more sober, too, like he hasn’t had much to drink. Kai should really be pushing Adam off of him. Or trying to sit up. But his hands are on Adam’s waist, and Adam’s looking at Kai’s face like he can’t quite look at anything else, and Kai cannot, for the life of him, break this moment.

Adam’s hands are on either side of Kai’s face, boxing him in. His breath puffs against Kai’s mouth over and over as he breathes shallowly. His eyes flick all over Kai’s face, and Kai’s thinking kiss me, please so hard he’s pretty sure NASA catches the brainwaves.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice,” he says, voice soft and vulnerable, like Kai has the power to hurt him with whatever Kai says next.

Kai’s hands tighten on Adam’s waist. He’s thought about this a lot. Like, a stupid amount. Who doesn’t daydream about confessing to your crush? But Kai cannot dredge up any words to say. He’s dry, completely dry, and he can only think about how good Adam’s weight feels on him. He dips his eyes to Adam’s mouth and thinks This is where I kiss him, right? and Adam’s eyes slide shut as he leans in, towards Kai, and Kai loses his mind.

The backdoor opens, the sounds of the party spilling out into the night air, pink light washing over them. Adam scrambles off Kai so fast that he’s pretty sure he breaks the world record for speed, and stands up.

Kai props himself onto his elbows and squints at the silhouette in the doorway.

“Vanessa?”

“Oh my God, there you guys are!” she leans back into the house to yell, “Guys! I found Adam and Kai! They were fucking around in the backyard!”

“Hey!” Adam snaps indignantly. “You locked us in the basement! We had to escape!”

Vanessa rolls her eyes at them.

adam: hey uh

adam: sorry about what i said when i was drunk lol

adam: i didn’t mean it

Kai turns his phone off and stuffs it into his bag, frustrated. He hadn’t meant to not talk to Adam all weekend, he’d just needed to think things through, and then his dad had asked him to help paint the deck, and he’d had to finish up some code for robotics and time had kinda slipped away from him without really meaning to.

He hadn’t meant to ignore everyone else, either, but they weren’t in a Situation with Kai on Friday night, and he’s not in love with them, and they didn’t seem to mind so much.

Kai had spent all weekend staring at the texts, in between being too busy to answer them, but he can’t figure out what to say back. He’d gotten them Saturday morning after the party, probably because he hadn’t stuck around long enough to be left alone with Adam again.

Kai had left because.

Well, because.

Because he feels played.

Is that it? He can’t tell. He just feels so hollow about it. Adam doesn’t mean to, Kai knows that, but it still feels like he’s being led on. Adam has kissed him once while black out and almost kissed him while tipsy and flirts pretty outrageously, and it’s all too much for Kai’s head, which is designed for building robots and lying to his English teachers.

So at lunch, instead of going to Mr Tucker’s room, he lets Freddie from Calc drag him to the auditorium to help build the drama department’s Spring play set.

He’s not avoiding anyone. He’s just... helping his friends.

Fuck.

reeb: ok i give

reeb: wtf is going on

kai: ?

reeb: don’t “?” me mfer

reeb: adam is sulking n shit and u’ve been sorta MIA

kai: i’ve been busy, sorry

kai: i am the captain of a team u know. its not personal. i’ll hang out with you guys soon

reeb: spidey sense says there is something u are not telling me

kai: i really do think your spidey sense is actually overactive bladder syndrome

reeb: [An image of the caveman spongebob meme.]

He’s in the library, sitting in his favorite spot nestled in the bookshelves, brow furrowed over The Great Gatsby, his English journal, the notes Hannah lent him, and the Sparknotes page for the novel, surrounded by every color highlighter and pen, just trying to get his homework done, when Adam ambushes him.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says, out of nowhere.

Kai jumps, sending his highlighters and books flying. Adam is standing above him, eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed. He looks a little bit light a superhero, all righteous indignation at injustice, his muscles buldging slightly. You’re dead. Goodbye. his brain supplies.

“Holy shit,” he says, gathering his stuff back up slowly. “You scared me.”

Adam’s eyes soften. “Sorry,” he murmurs.

Kai shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

The silence hangs there as Kai avoids his gaze, reshuffling Hannah’s notes back into their correct order. He’s lost his page in the book, so he opens it to the middle and starts looking for the correct page number. There’s no sound in this corner of the library except for Kai’s over-loud breathing and the turning of pages.

Go away go away go away, Kai prays, wanting the world to end so he won’t ever have to face this moment. He thinks about the echo of Adam’s voice in his memory, Kai, look at me, the feeling of Adam’s weight in his lap, the ache Kai feels when he looks at Adam, and wishes that he could just stand up and run.

Adam clears his throat. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he says again, only this time it comes out more like a question.

Kai keeps his face as blank as possible, schools it into something politely curious unlike the shattered glass mosaic he feels like. “Am I?”

Adam rubs his hand across the back of his neck. “Look, I’m sorry,” he says haltingly, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I shouldn’t have... come on to you like that. It was inappropriate, and we were both drunk. And I didn’t mean it.”

Kai looks at him for a long moment. He can feel it, a rock on his chest, crushing him. He feels the ball in his throat, the hot prickle against the backs of his eyelids. “I know,” he says eventually. His voice comes out steady, even though he feels like he’s falling apart.

“So... we’re cool?”

Kai forces himself to nod. “Okay.”

“Really? Because I still feel like I fucked up somewhere here.” Adam takes his hands out of his pockets to open them, palms up, like he’s pleading. “Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

And it’s now or never. As much as Kai abhors the idea of talking about his feelings in the school library at 4 PM, as much as he wants to just lie through his teeth and stitch this all back up into one big internal bag of FUCK and pretend like nothing happened, he’d be leaving Adam hanging, and Kai’s not a dick.

He takes a deep breath. Then another one. He tries to channel his internal Reeve, but decides against it because Reeve’s kinda an asshole.

“I just... wish you did,” Kai says eventually. If he wasn’t himself, he’d slap him. Adam stares at Kai like he’d just spoken another language, like he’d just spat out part of a puzzle to piece together.

“Wish I did... what?” he asks slowly.

“Mean it,” Kai grits out, the words dragged from him. He feels ridiculous. This is stupid.

“Mean...?” Adam says, like he’s stupid. Kai scowls at him.

“Do you remember the St Eve’s party?”

Adam shrugs, looking helpless and confused.

“I drove you home that party. I drive you home every party. And every time we’re alone, you say that you like me, that you want me to go inside with you, that you think about me all the time,” Kai’s stomach is churning and Adam looks like he’s about to faint.

“I didn’t...”

Kai can’t hear him say it again. “And I know that you’re just drunk, and that’s just what you’re like when you’re drunk, but I just... I just wanted it to be true so bad. Part of me kept driving you home because I wanted you to be like that with me, part of me just wanted to pretend. But then you kissed me, and I just...” Kai makes a helpless gesture with his hands.

Adam licks his lips. He’s breathing a bit hard.

“...Fell apart,” Kai finishes.

Adam’s looking at him, wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look, pure panic. Kai’s fucked it up, ruined their friendship, destroyed their friend-group, and will probably be unable to look anyone in the eye for a very long time.

Adam didn’t want to hear this. Kai should’ve just lied, shut it all up and let himself wither up inside. He should’ve avoided Adam harder, or refrained from falling in love with him in the first place. He should’ve just dated Jesse when she’d asked and made himself get over Adam.

“How long?”

Kai blinks. “Huh?”

“How long have you wanted...?” he shrugs.

Ah. The million dollar question.

“Officially? Middle of junior year. If I’m honest with myself? Probably since middle school.”

Adam’s mouth opens and closes nonsensically. Kai asks God to strike him down, just so this can end, just so Kai can go back to trying to figure out what the fuck is up with Gatsby and Jay, just so Adam will stop looking at him like that, like Kai’s killed his puppy.

Adam drops to his knees in front of Kai.

“Okay. Since freshman year. And I’m a liar. I did mean it. I kept thinking, you know, maybe you’d like me back, because I could see you looking, but I just couldn’t make myself say anything. And I meant it. I mean it. I do. I want to kiss you.”

Kai swallows. He’s feeling that dangerous thing again, like there are snakes in his chest, or his feelings are in a bucket that’s about to overflow.

“Okay,” he squeaks out.

Adam leans down and fits their mouths together. It’s chaste, and Kai’s lips are a little bit chapped, and he didn’t close his eyes, but when Adam pulls back Kai smiles so hard his mouth hurts.

And he leans up to kiss Adam, insistent, insistent, tasting Adam without Hennessy whiskey (and he does taste fantastic), and something electric happens to Kai’s spine when their tongues touch. He feels like he’s going to burn up, burst into stars, create a fissure in the earth that goes down to the core, or all three at once.

Adam licks along the roof of Kai’s mouth and yeah - that’s the one thing he’d like to never, ever, ever forget.

He’s about to be totally, totally, totally screwed.

Group: dandilyin hoes MFERsssss!! skeet DONT CHANGE CHAT NAME

mirakat: omfg

mirakat: k & a suckin face in library

mirakat: [A blurry creeper picture of Kai pressed against the bookshelves, Adam leaning over him. Their silhouettes are blacked out against the sunlight streaming in through the window, so they almost look like one body. It’s taken at an angle and half of a wooden shelf is in frame.]

speedyskeet: arent they in this GC too

lochnessa: Lmfaaooooooo

speedyskeet: they r gonna see this.....

reever: WTF ADAM’S INTO KAI???

reever: ?????

lochnessa: What planet do you live on

speedyskeet: fuckin jesus christ reeb

locknessa: Literally no one knew KAI was into Adam. EVERYONE KNEW ADAM WAS INTO KAI

reever: WHY AM I THE LAST ONE TO KNOW STUFF

mirakat: s2g i tld u this whn we were @ fortescue’s u nvr listen 2 me

“I hate them all,” Kai announces.

Adam looks up at him from where his head is pillowed on Kai’s thighs, Pride and Prejudice held aloft.

“Don’t worry, I set all their ringtones to Maroon 5.”

send me a ship + a prompt and i’ll write you a drabble!

#The Hollow #My writing #answer #kaidam

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sophielovesbarnes · 4 years

Text

All or Nothing

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader

Warnings: none yet

Author note: Hello! ❤️ so this idea has been running on my mind for months and I hadn’t brought myself to write it, but due to the COVID my classes are cancelled which has me with a lot of spare time in my hands.

The story will make a kind of crossover with Supernatural, pretty much I will be using some of the characters in a AU.

Please let me know what do you think and dm me if you want to be tagged.

Chapter one.

You’ve always loved this; the adrenaline that rushes through your veins when you are thrown into the air and you fly so high that it feels like you are going to touch the stars, the excitement that fills you with every jump, the rush you get when you listen to the joyful voices that surround you, cheering every move you make, the smile on your teammates' faces that assures you that they are as passionate about this as you are.

These are the great things about being a cheerleader, things that not many people see or understand; you’ve been called vain, bimbo, basic, the thing is that you don’t people that have never felt this emotion will ever understand.

They won’t understand the sacrifices needed to get there, to make every move coordinated, the weeks of practice behind fifteen minutes on the stage; they wouldn’t understand the permanent calluses and blisters covering your feet and hands, feeling your muscles so weak as noodles after practice, the hours of training devoted everyday, the sweat, the blood and the tears; but those fifteen minutes, God, they made you feel like heaven.

After the music ends, signalling the end of the halftime you and your squad head back to the edge of the field, waving hello and throwing kisses back and forward.

When you finally reach your bench, you throw yourself to your water bottle and feel the relief of it’s cold contents hydrating your throat.

"It went well." Ingrid says, you can see her chest going up and down rapidly and short black hairs sticking to her sweaty forehead. "Truth be told I really thought I was gonna mess up that basket."

"Double kicks are a bitch." You agree and take one last sip from your water bottle, after you both catch your breath and both football teams are on their spot ready to start the next time you put down your bottle and grab your pom poms, preparing yourself to keep everyone's spirits up until the end of the game. "Ready?"

"Let’s do this." She smiles, and you both go back to position chanting and cheering for your team.

Forty-five minutes later, the crowd erupts into claps and screams when your team scores their last touchdown making them victors of this game, the squad jumps into hugs celebrating your victory.

The game is over and everyone starts to abandon the bleachers, so you take your bag and head to the locker rooms followed by the rest of the team, discussing what went well and wrong on the routine, the pre-spring break stress that’s building up, how cute the linebreaker looked, but mostly everyone is talking about the upcoming celebration party.

When you get to your locker, you untie your ponytail, letting your head recover it’s proper blood flow, you get undressed, carefully folding your uniform and proceed to step into the shower. The hot water loosens up your muscles and brings you to a sleepy point of relaxation. You finish showering and step out, wrapping your body with a fluffy white towel.

"Are you sure you’re not going to Liam’s party?" A tall brunette girl asks as she walks behind you. “It’s the event of the year.”

"Thanks Alice but I really want to attend the FBI lecture tomorrow and a hangover would keep me from actually paying attention." You reply simply as you get dressed and pack the rest of your stuff into your bag.

"Well I’m sure Liam will miss you." She implies. "He was very enthusiastic about having you there."

"He’ll survive." You give her a playful smile and throw the strap of your bag over your shoulder. "Night girls see you tomorrow."

They reply almost in chorus and, you wave goodbye walking out from the locker room, spinning your car keys on your finger. The parking lot is almost empty, most people are either back on their dorm rooms or on their way to Liam’s party, so the way back to your apartment is peaceful, just the sound of the wheels rolling on the road and the wind running through the windows.

Originally you lived on the dorm rooms like most of the squad, but at the beginning of this school year your brothers had surprised you buying an apartment just for you, quoting Dean's words it was easier to concentrate on your own space and you deserved a nice and private place to live, after all, you had a full scholarship ride so you didn’t have to worry about paying tuition.

Truth be told, you really liked the apartment; the building is fifteen minutes away from your school, and your neighbors are nice and quiet. When you first got the place, you, Dean, Sam, and Adam had spent an entire weekend painting the walls, decorating and equipping the place so it could fit all your necessities.

The kitchen is right next to the entrance door, behind it it’s the living room, there’s only one loveseat and the tv is in front of it, there are photographs everywhere, your brothers are on the most of them, there’s one from your first competition, you are sitting on Dean’s shoulders, holding high the trophy you and your squad won, Sam and Adam hugging Dean from each side, there’s one from your graduation, the KU game where Dean finally decided to introduce you to and your brothers to Castiel, next to it is the one from their wedding, there’s also one from your prom where you and your ex where crowned king and queen for the last time; you still keep the crown and the band displayed on your room.

You love the apartment, even though you live alone and far from Kansas and your brothers, they made it feel like home.

You leave your keys and your bag next to the door and then head to your bedroom where you strip out of your clothes and put on your pjs, you fall asleep the second your head touches the pillow.

The next morning your alarm starts beeping exactly at 6 o’clock, you have made a cocoon in the blankets that’s so warm and comfortable that you refuse to move, but eventually the beeping sound off the alarm becomes unbearable and you know for a fact that if you don’t get up from your bed soon you are going to be late for class; so you begrudgingly get up from the bed and slam the button of the alarm turning it off.

One hour later your hair and your makeup are neatly done, you have replaced your pajamas with jeans and a white bustier with puff sleeves, and you are ready to step out if the door, bag on one hand and coffee on the other one.

When you get to the auditorium, your best friend Maia is already there saving a seat for you, you distinguish her from her curly hair and her cinnamon skin, she smiles at you when she sees you.

“You’re late.” You drop your bag on the chair next to her and then take a seat.

“My bed and I were too comfortable together this morning.”

“I getcha.” She replies, her New York accent marked on her words. “Are you excited?”

“Totally, I’ve been looking towards this lecture for weeks.”

A few minutes later three men step on the stage, accompanied by the principal, there’s a man in his sixties, with black hair and a kind smile, you know he is David Rossi, you have re-read his book over and over since you were little. There’s also a bald black man, and you can almost see his muscles through his shirt.

But the third man is the one who has your complete attention.

You’re completely fascinated with him from the second he steps into the podium, there’s something on his messy brown hair, his shy smile, and the way he fidgets nervously with his fingers that makes your heart flutter.

A few moments later the room starts to fill and when every seat is taken the older man takes a spot on the podium and clears his throat.

“Good morning, I am Agent David Rossi, and these are my partners, agent Derek Morgan and Doctor Reid.” He points at each of the men and they both give a courteous nod.

“Research, casework, and training to hunt down monsters, rapists, terrorists, pedophiles, and our specialty, serial killers.” Agent Rossi turns his back and lets agent Morgan continue.

“Does anybody here know what a serial killer is and what makes it different from a spree killer or a mass murderer?” He asks, and you raise your hand almost immediately, he grants you the word and you smile.

“A mass murderer is someone who kills four or more people on the same location and on the same time period, spree killers murder two or more victims on different locations and they don’t have a cooling period.” You reply. “Serial killers have three or more victims; they usually select the victim with anticipation and there is a cooling period between each murder.”

“It’s very good, by statue three is the magic number, and it’s actually more qualitative than quantitative for us.”

“Today we’re gonna talk about how some serial killers get made.” Rossi continues, “Because if you can understand that, then you can figure out a way to catch them.”

After that Morgan proceeds to introduce two girls, both victims of the same serial killer; whom as Rossi describes as the most prolific killer they’ve had.

“One thing you should understand is that no two killers are the same, they each occupy their own point on the behavioral spectrum.” After listening to agent’s Reid’s rapid voice, you officially consider yourself a goner. “Genetics, brain chemistry, psychology, and environment are all factors.”

“We believe that this particular killer grew up in an environment so adverse that he never had a chance.” Morgan adds. “He endured years of cruel and abject physical abuse as well as horribly profound psychological abuse.”

“Now let me be clear, most abused kids do not turn into killers, but this particular unknown subject, or unsub suffered extreme abuse and it has everything to do with why he does what he does.” Agent Rossi explains, after that they project the images from the unsub’s murder scenes and they give the details of his MO.

“I’m gonna be sick.” Maia whispers to you as she covers her eyes and retreats into her seat to avoid watching the gruesome pictures displayed on the wall.

When they finish explaining the case, sharing the details and the profiling process they open the podium for questions, again you are the first and only one to raise your hand.

“Yes? Miss…”

“Winchester.” You complete “So, you said that not all abused kids become killers, but what is the breaking point where some of them do and some don’t?”

“The majority of the most prolific and dangerous serial killers were genetically disposed to behave antisocially and furthermore grew up in an environment that cultivated a disregard for the lives of others.” Agent Reid answers “One gene in particular is linked with an increased risk of violent or aggressive behavior; monoamine oxidase A, it controls the production of a protein that breaks down brain-signaling chemicals like dopamine, noradrenalin, and serotonin, which all influence mood, there’s a variant of the gene called MAOA-L, it causes people to produce less

of the protein that breaks down these signaling chemicals, which in turn causes them to build up. An excess of these chemicals, leads to impulsive behavior; such as hypersexuality, sleep disorders, mood swings, and violent tendencies.

“So it can be inherited?”

“The heritability of the antisocial personality disorder is estimated to be 0.38. Heritability is the proportion of differences in traits in a population that are due to genetic differences as opposed to differences in the environment. A heritability of 0.38 tells us that, on average, about 38 percent of the individual differences that we observe in degree of “sociability” or “anti-sociability" are in some way attributable to individual genetic differences.”

“Thank you.” You smile at him, and you can swear there’s a pink blush coloring his cheeks as he smiles back at you.

There are just a couple more questions, most of them directed to morbid curiosity about the case, when they are done answering, agent Rossi opens an invitation to all the attendees to join the FBI, which brings a query about the requirements and the preparation his team had; again, Spencer is the one who answers.

“Most of us have done extensive postgraduate work in areas such as abnormal psychology, and sociology, as well as an intensive study of relative casework and existing literature.” He keeps his hands in the pocket of his navy blue pants.

“But that is after the selection to the unit, first you have to be an agent, work in a field, and that’s what we are here to talk about.” Spencer retreats himself to the back of the stage, almost leaning against the wall. “For that, the academics are wide open, everyone in this room, once you graduate; regardless of your course study; is eligible to apply to the FBI.”

“What did you study?” The guy wearing the Cardinals hoodie, sitting two rows behind you asks.

“Criminal justice, but sports appreciation was all full up at my Community College.” There’s a soft general laugh, but you can’t take your eyes from the Doctor.

“And you Doctor Reid?” You ask, looking him straight in the eyes. “What did you study?”

“I-I hold doctorates in Chemistry, Mathematics and Engineering, as well as BAs in psychology and sociology.”

“You’re drooling.” Maia mocks in a whispered tone, causing you to blush.

“Shut it.” You whisper as you try to slow down your heart rhythm. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-four as of last month, thirty-four; I, I also completed an additional BA in Philosophy, which reminds me that I have a joke.” He chuckles nervously and keeps talking “How many existentialists take to screw in a lightbulb? Two, one to change the lightbulb and one to observe how it symbolizes an incandescent beacon of subjectivity in another world of cosmic nothingness.”

You giggle softly, but the rest of the room seems to remain silent, Maia looks at you with an eyebrow raised like she is trying to figure you out.

“It’s fun, you know? Because that’s what existentialists do.” You explain on a murmur.

The silence of the spectators makes Spencer shift timidly and he starts to speak again, trying to explain the joke when he gets cut off by agent Rossi.

“Okay, before he does his Quantum Physics knock-knock joke.” This is what makes the class laugh while you stay quiet “Do we have any other questions about opportunities in the FBI?”

There are only a couple more questions, and when the lecture is over Morgan and Rossi find themselves surrounded by curious students, and girls fussing over them, Spencer stays alone and he starts to pack his things on his bag, you take a deep breath and make your way down towards him.

“That was really interesting.” Your voice seems to startle him, he turns around and runs his fingers through his hair messing it up just a bit more. “I really enjoyed it.”

“Uh thanks, Miss Winchester.”

“Y/N is fine.”

“Y/N.” He repeats and changes his weight from one foot to the other. “You seemed interested in the BAU.”

“I am, I mean, I still have a couple years left in college but joining the FBI does sound interesting.”

“Well, if you have any more doubts, you can... you know, call.” He hands you a white card with the FBI emblem on it, as well as his name and phone number; you take the card without breaking eye contact and give him a coy smile.

“Will do.”

A/N: so that’s it, please let me know what do you think ❤️

#supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #winchester!reader #winchester!sister #dean winchester #sam winchester #adam milligan #castiel #winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #reid x reader #spencer reid #dr reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader

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jeonsjiddies · 4 years

Text

Something Good | knj

summary- you’d known from the moment you’d laid eyes on him, Namjoon was good.

rating- e for everyone? lol

word count- 3395

pairing- namjoon x reader

genre- fluff

Warnings- lots of emotions, possibly kinda angsty?

a/n: possibility of a smutty part 2 if people want it?

Namjoon-

Namjoon was tired. He loved his life, he really did. He loved his career, he loved Army, he loved his bandmates. He could not have asked for anything better. But today, Namjoon was tired. He was worn out, and he just wanted to drift into the crowd unseen long enough to get his coffee and go back to his hotel room. He was dressed casually, jeans and a dark blue cotton t-shirt paired with a black baseball cap and a gray jacket, hood up. He wore a mask across his face, but with how smoggy it was in the city, that didn’t make him stand out.

He found a small coffee shop that looked fairly empty and ducked inside, quietly giving his order to the first employee, an older woman with a kind smile who nodded, writing “John” on his cup when he said Joon but he didn’t mind. His eyes flicked to the young woman who began mixing his drink, her pretty hair bouncing with her movements, languid and quick. She hummed quietly to herself, so quietly he couldn’t make out the song, but her sunny disposition made his mouth curve up into a smile.

“For John?” she smiled brightly at him, and he nodded, handing her the money and taking his change.

“Thank you.” he responded kindly, reaching out to take the drink.

Her eyes widened, mouth falling agape as she looked up to hand Namjoon his drink, their fingers brushing slightly as she handed it off. Namjoon felt a spark run clear down to his toes, and he met her gaze with similar surprise.

“Kim Namjoon?”

Y/N-

“Kim Namjoon?” you breathed, recognizing that voice anywhere.

Your skin was electrified where it touched his, and your gaze shot up and locked with his. Kim Namjoon, leader of BTS was standing right in front of you. The man who’d taken control of your every unconscious moment, drifting through your dreams like he owned them. The man you’d almost watched grow up on any screen you could get your hands on. You knew BTS had a concert in the city in a few days, but it never crossed your mind that he would appear in the small coffee shop you wasted your days in, barely making enough to cover your rent.

“Please don’t scream.” he begged, not in a conceited way, more desperate, exhausted.

“I won’t.” you promised.

“Thank you.” he whispered in a sigh of relief.

Namjoon flashed you a smile, which you only caught by the crinkle in his eyes. He turned to walk away and you stood there, frozen in place until your heart kicked into overdrive. This was your one chance. You hopped over the counter and dashed after him, skidding to a stop in front of the door just as he was about to open it.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re probably tired of fans approaching you, and I swear I’m not insane. I’ve been your fan for a while, but I’m not going to pretend I really know who you are. I would like to, though. I might not know everything about you but after watching you from the sidelines, I can tell there’s something different about you. You’re good. I could really use some good in my life.”

Namjoon’s eyes met yours but he didn’t speak, his gaze just searched yours. For what, you didn’t know.

“You don’t have to decide right now. Look, let me put my number in your phone, so you have it. You can decide if you want to text me or not. I won’t be offended if I don’t hear from you. But I think I could be something good for you too.” you offered, heart pounding with adrenaline.

Seconds passed before Namjoon nodded, something about the spark in your eye drawing him in and begging him to trust you. He dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. You gently took it from his grasp and input your contact information, hitting save. You looked up at him as you handed it back. He looked at the screen momentarily.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Have a good day.” he said softly before exiting the shop and disappearing into the crowd.

When your shift ended two hours later, you were still in shock. Namjoon. Kim Namjoon had been in your coffee shop, had touched your skin. You shivered at the memory, a smile gracing your lips. You began walking home, ready to crash into your small twin bed inside your shared apartment. The sun began to set just as you crossed over to the shadier area of town, the only place you could afford to reside. You looked at your phone to check the time, and noticed a text from an unsaved number.

Namjoon [8:37PM] Hey, Y/N. It’s Namjoon.

Your heart thundered in your chest. He texted you. This had to be a joke.

You [8:39PM] Hey! I didn’t think you’d actually text me. How are you?

Namjoon [8:42PM] Honestly, I didn’t either. But you were so honest and open I figured it couldn’t hurt.

Namjoon [8:43PM] I’m okay, just tired. It’s been a long day.

You [8:44PM] I’m glad you did. I’m pretty great now. What made it a long day?

Namjoon stared at your message, unsure of if he should be truthful in his sour mood or pretend everything was fine. You’d only just met anyway. But something about you, it just made him feel like you’d get it. That you’d understand. He decided it would be okay, and he needed to let it out.

Namjoon [8:47PM] We had dance practice today for our upcoming show and I kept messing up and making everyone start over. I just couldn’t focus.

You [8:50PM] Are you working yourself too hard? Maybe you need to take a break.

Namjoon [8:53PM I don’t have time to take a break. Our show is in two days and we have to be ready.

Your heart ached for him. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders and he couldn’t spare a few minutes to prioritize his health?

You [8:55PM] Have you ever tried meditation or anything?

Namjoon [8:56PM] No…

You [8:59PM] Okay, hear me out. There’s this app I use when I’m stressed. It helps you meditate and has scenes with nature sounds to help you calm down. It’s even got a deep breathing feature to help you breathe. I listen to the sound of the rain when I just need to disconnect from the world and it always puts me at ease. You might try it.

Namjoon [9:00PM] What’s it called?

You [9:00PM] Calm. :)

You didn’t hear from Namjoon for a good twenty minutes, and you were starting to wonder if you’d said something wrong. You sighed, setting your phone down and curling into the blankets, disappointment crawling its way into your heart uninvited. That was, until your phone started ringing and Namjoon’s name flashed across your screen. Your heart lept into your throat and you slid the answer key across the screen.

“Hello?” you tried to make your voice even.

“Hey. Sorry. I hope it’s okay that I called. I didn’t feel like typing.” he chuckled, seeming in a much better mood.

“No that’s fine!” you assured him.

“I love this app. Thank you for recommending it.” he praised.

“Oh, Namjoon, haven’t you heard women are always right?” you giggled.

“So I’m learning. Twice now you’ve been right.” his deep voice held a smile you could imagine if you closed your eyes.

“So you feel better? More relaxed?” you verified, turning to lay on your back and close your eyes while you relished in the sound of his voice.

“Much better. Thank you.” he said sincerely.

“Next step is a bubble bath and a face mask.” you teased.

“Ah, I think I’m okay for now.” he laughed, letting the warm happy feeling settle in his chest at the sound of your voice. Namjoon thought you had a beautiful voice. It fit you. Soft, gentle, but with a little mystery and a hint of mischief.

“I’ll convince you one day. It’ll do wonders for your skin.” you explained.

“Are you saying I have bad skin?” he scoffed playfully.

“Stop fishing for compliments.” you chastised. “You know you look great.”

Namjoon’s deep laughter floated through your ears like your favorite song. You giggled to yourself, his laughter was contagious.

“It’s weird how comfortable I am with you already.” Namjoon admitted suddenly, “I feel like I’ve known you forever and we met today.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” you agreed easily, buds of hope blooming in your stomach.

In the long months that followed, Namjoon visited you every time he was near. He texted you or called you every day that you were apart. He couldn’t always talk for long, but a simple “good morning, have a good day” if that was all he could manage. There was something about the spark in your eye that drew Namjoon in, and he wanted to make sure you knew he was thinking of you. He wanted to keep you.

The sun had long gone to sleep by the time Namjoon and his friends finished their dance practice and headed back to their hotel for the night. The dark skies had opened up and began to let the rain trickle down, thudding against the window in a soothing rhythm. Namjoon immediately thought of you and your love of the rain. You’d told him on more than one occasion that the sound of the rain coming down was one of the most calming sounds you’d ever heard.

“You coming?” Tae asked, waiting by the door with one of the umbrellas as the group left the vehicle for the safety of the hotel.

“I’ll catch up with you guys.” Joon smiled.

Tae shrugged and jogged off.

Joon waited until Tae’s form disappeared into the large rotating door to turn his attention to his phone, pressing the facetime button on your name. When your face popped up on his screen, surrounded by a thick comforter, he worried he’d woken you up.

“Joonie!” your smile lit up like the sun and Namjoon felt something warm fill his chest.

“Y/N.” he greeted pleasantly.

“What’s up Joon?” you asked, the smile not leaving your lips.

“It’s raining here, and I thought maybe you’d like to listen?” he asked quietly, suddenly unsure of the gesture.

“Omg Joon! That’s so sweet! I love the rain, almost as much as I love you!” you giggled, and though Joon knew you didn’t mean it like that, his chest stirred.

Joon turned his camera around to show you the darkened night sky and the rain that fell rhythmically on the rooftop of the car, the windows, racing down.

“I want to see your face, Joon.” you whined a bit.

He turned the front camera back on and smiled at you. Your face lit up and you just watched him watch the rain, eyes flickering back to you every once in a while.

“Hmmm… this is so soothing.” you hummed quietly, making sure your voice didn’t overpower the rain.

“I think of you every time it rains.” he admits, barely above a whisper.

You were quiet for a moment, and Namjoon was almost afraid to look at the screen before he heard “I miss you, Joon.”

“I miss you too. We’ll be in town in the next month or two though.” he soothed you, noting the way your eyes filled with tears but they didn’t spill over.

“But I want my best friend here now.” you sighed. “It’s colder when you’re not here.”

“I know what you mean.” Namjoon agreed, an involuntary shiver washing through him as he turned the heat up in the car.

“Tell me what you did today.” you smiled, Namjoon could tell you were getting tired.

He spoke gently, voice low in an attempt to lull you to sleep. He knew you pushed yourself too hard, stayed up too late. You worked multiple jobs to keep yourself afloat and assist your family in any way you could, and Namjoon had offered on many occasions to help you out financially, but you had refused, stating that he was your friend, not your ATM.

Your stubborn personality was one of the most infuriating things about you, and also one of Namjoon’s favorites. When you’d set your mind to something, there was no going back. You never backed down when you were passionate about something, and you were passionate about Namjoon. Too many times you’d watched him get close to people who only wanted him for his fame or his money. He acted like it didn’t hurt but you knew. Each time he was betrayed it was like a piece of him chipped away. He smiled though. He never stopped smiling.

Sometimes Namjoon felt like BTS and you were the only people in the whole world he could trust, aside from his family.

“... then Jin tripped over Tae and busted his ass and we couldn’t stop laughing.” Namjoon recounted dance practice and watched your sleepy smile spread over your face. “We decided to call it quits for the day and here we are.” he finished.

“Mmm.. I’m glad you had a good day.” you mumbled from your half-conscious state.

“Thank you, Y/N. You should really get some sleep.” Namjoon told you.

“You’re right… I can’t keep my eyes open. Thank you for calling me, Joonie. I love you.” you spoke slowly, eyes threatening to drift shut.

“I love you too, Y/N. Sweet dreams.” Namjoon said, but his words fell on deaf ears as your eyes had already closed.

Namjoon knew he should’ve ended the call, but his eyes watched your peaceful expression, a hint of a smile lingering on your lips. He watched you take deep, even breaths. He studied the way your eyelashes fluttered when you stirred. Namjoon’s chest tightened as he gazed upon your features. That was the first night Namjoon came to the realization that he was in love with you.

Of course, you’d known you were in love with Namjoon much sooner than the dense man had realized his own feelings. You never showed it though. You didn’t want your feelings to make things weird, as Namjoon’s presence in your life was the only thing keeping you centered. Namjoon was where you went when you were angry, when you were scared, when you felt alone. He was your anchor in a world that tried to sweep you away into an empty abyss. He was your home.

Namjoon was the only person in the world who seemed to understand you completely. You’d never really felt like you belonged anywhere, constantly yearning for a place that felt safe. With Namjoon, you belonged. You were safe. Protected. You were valued and revered and you could let your walls down and melt into your best friend’s embrace, knowing he’d always catch you. You knew there were millions of girls who wanted his heart, who were in love with the idea of him. You knew who he really was though.

You were the one who stayed up talking him through his dark moments. You were the one who held him and stroked his hair when he fell apart. You were the one who listened without judgement, who understood him just as much as he understood you. You were the one who never used him, never left him, never let him feel abandoned. You were the one who waited up, pretending you couldn’t sleep just to hear his voice for a few fleeting moments as his day wound down into the quiet night. Everything Namjoon gave to you, you returned with vigor.

That’s why, when his plane landed in your city, you were the first thought on his mind. You were the one he wanted to run to. You were the one he wanted to wrap up in his arms. And that is exactly what he did as he arrived at your apartment, dressed to blend in, knuckles rapping at the door excitedly. You flung the door open, jumping into his embrace as he pulled you tight against him and shut the door behind your bodies. You breathed in his scent, your senses flooded with Namjoon. You could finally breathe again.

You felt your body go pliant in his grasp. His strong arms held you close, his breath tickled your ear. His heart beat just as fast as your pounding one. Your best friend was finally home. Well, he didn’t live with you but in your presence was the place Namjoon felt the most himself, so he might as well have been home. Namjoon was completely overwhelmed with emotion at finally being by your side again. He didn’t know what came over him. He didn’t have time to use rational judgement, didn’t have time to think. Everything in his being needed this. He needed you.

As soon as your feet had touched the ground, before you could release yourself from Namjoon’s grasp, his lips found yours. In that moment, time stopped. Your heart stopped beating for a moment, then immediately began hammering in your chest. You kissed him back after a moment of letting the situation sink it, everything inside of you seeming to reach for him. You wound your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and his arms tightened around you, pressing your body against his as his lips worked against yours.

Had it been minutes? Had it been hours? You weren’t sure. Time wasn’t real when you were in Namjoon’s arms. All you knew is it was far too soon for your liking when he pulled away to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. His chest rose and fell rapidly and his eyes met yours. You shivered at the intensity, the adoration in his gaze.

“I’m in love with you.” left his lips before he could even register what he was saying.

Even though he’d only realized this fact a few months prior, Namjoon had been in love with you the better part of a year. It really hadn’t taken long for you to wrap yourself around his heart so completely that he couldn’t possibly want anyone else. He’d been waiting ever since that rainy night in the car to come home to you, to wrap you up in his arms, to risk it all and tell you exactly what you’d meant to him.

“I had a whole speech planned. It was going to be much more romantic. But I can’t think right now. All I know is I’m completely in love with you, and I really hope you feel the same way or this is going to get really awkward-” he began.

“I love you too. I’m in love with you, Joonie. I’ve been in love with you. You’re everything.” you sighed contentedly, leaning your head against his toned chest, listening to his heart beat like a hummingbird’s.

His fingers tenderly snaked their way under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His lips found yours once more. This kiss was slower, more intimate. This kiss held everything the two of you couldn’t express with words. All the heartache while you waited for him alone. All the longing you’d felt, thousands of miles apart. This kiss was a thank you for your continued friendship, a promise of so much more to come, a whisper of love drifting between your connected lips. It was everything you’d both been holding back for almost a year.

Your whole body trembled and tears forced their way down your cheeks against your will, and Namjoon moved his lips to your cheeks, kissing them away. He knew. He understood. He felt it too. He led you to the couch, consuming you in his embrace, letting you be at ease for the first time in months. Namjoon finally let out the breath he’d been holding since, well he wasn’t sure how long. It felt like he was breathing for the very first time.

“Please say you’ll be mine.” he whispered, almost inaudibly, as he trailed kisses along your ear.

“I’ve always been yours, Joon.” you whispered back.

And it felt like the beginning of something good.

taglist: @blkjmn

#bts #bts fluff #fluff #namjoon #rm #rap monster #joon #kim namjoon #bts imagines #namjoon x reader #rm x reader

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angel-tries-to-write · 5 years

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Love Patch

Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Rating: Mature Pairing: Jacob Frye x Reader Word count: 2847 Genre: hurt/comfort, a bit fluff

Jacob needs help, so you help him. Though it’s not the easiest task, obviously. After all, everyone knows that people are out of their minds when someone they love is in pain.

A/N: You know what also was a pain? Titling this s**t!

You were sitting in your favorite pub, surrounded by the Rooks you grew close to recently. This gang was really something meaningful, something that changed London's status quo that made the city prosper at a horrible cost. You turned down a lot of their offers to join them, you knew that street fights and risking your life in actual action wasn't for you. So you were trying to help the other way, by tending their wounds and fixing their clothes, because these were the things you liked. And that was enough, you wouldn't want to be a regular Rook even if it meant you could spend more time with their boss. Truth to be told, you quite liked that man. It wasn't surprising, he was a very handsome gentleman who knew his way to ladies' hearts and not only hearts. Many women had feelings towards him and you didn't feel like a good competitor, so you tried to brush it off. He had something in him, like a typical bad boy. And he would never treat you seriously, so there was no point in showing him interest. That you thought until one night you saw him and you immediately knew something was wrong.

The moment Jacob stepped inside the pub, the Rooks cheered loudly for their boss. He greeted them with his trademark smile and took a seat, falling heavily onto a nearby chair. You could say he was exhausted, but as you kept watching him, you started to notice he was wincing and grabbing his side. One time he was taking his hand away, you spotted crimson shade of blood, pooling on green vest. That was the moment when you stood up so quickly you almost spilled your alcohol and you rushed to the Assassin.

“Undress. Now” you growled angrily, putting your hands on your hips.

“Shouldn't we go somewhere private first?” the man asked and his deep, sexy voice sent warmth to your veins and a shiver to your skin. You knew you wouldn't say no to him of he wanted you. His fellow Rooks snickered. But you tried to pretend it didn't bother you.

“You're wounded, idiot. Pretty seriously as far as I can tell” you pointed to his side. Jacob looked there and blinked a few times.

“I thought it was just a bruise, maybe cracked ribs” he muttered, looking at blood that stained his green vest. He shrugged his coat off, one of the Rooks caught it immediately, then he pulled his clothes up. You saw a short but deep wound that bled heavily. It was clear he was stabbed. You quickly pulled his clothes back down and pressed the wound to prevent further bleeding. The Assassin grunted in pain.

“I'll go fetch a doctor” offered one Rook and they left the pub before you could answer.

“There's no time. He needs stitches now” you decided. “I'm going to need some things.”

“I'm on it” another few Rooks ran outside to find necessary items. You washed your hands and prepared for this little surgery, while the Rooks helped Jacob take his clothes off. That wasn't necessary, but it was easier to wrap the bandages when the patient was shirtless. Besides you deserved some pleasure while doing your job. Well, maybe not that much pleasure you thought to yourself upon seeing him. It was definitely a nice view to look at.

“See something you like?” Jacob teased, noticing the way your eyes gleamed at the sight of his chest.

“Maybe” you lifted your gaze to look at his face and your eyebrows furrowed with worry. His skin was paler than usual. “But I also see many things I don't like. How do you feel?”

“Tired. And wounded” he looked at his hand that was covering the still bleeding injury. The cloth he was pressing to it quickly changed its color to bloody red. That wasn't good. You were afraid that stitches might not be enough.

“Shit” you swore under your breath. “Does anyone have a small Blighters' knife?” you asked, getting an idea. It was dangerous, but could actually help for a while if you did it right.

“I do” one of the brutes pulled out his knife. Its size matched the wound.

“Disinfect it and give it to me” you ordered. After a few moments you held it in your hand.

“What are you going to do?” Frye asked and despite trying so hard, he didn't manage to hide his fear.

“Save your life. Hold him still” you commanded and took his hand away from his side. Then you carefully slid a knife into the wound. Jacob screamed in pain and you flinched, but at least the bleeding stopped being so heavy. “The stitches won't be enough. We have to cauterise it” you decided, looking at the Rooks. Jacob groaned.

“For fuck's sake, (y/n), have some mercy, woman” he wasn't happy. You knew he already suffered a lot, his breath was unsteady and beads of sweat shimmered on his skin. The adrenaline wore off already and he could feel the pain that the wound caused. But there was no other option.

“I can either burn your wound or let you bleed out. You've lost so much blood already, we can't risk you losing more. I need to stop the bleeding right now” you said firmly.

“I'm already heating the knife” said one of the Rooks. Their boss gave you puppy eyes, silently begging you to change your mind, but you were adamant. You knew it was for his own good. You ordered to clear one table for Jacob to lie down on it. The Rooks helped him to move carefully, to spare him pain. Performing medical procedures in a pub wasn't the best idea, but there was no time to move somewhere else. Besides, the Rooks were very helpful.

“I really hope Evie will never know about it” the Assassin smiled, trying to lighten up a little.

“She will kill you if she does. How could you be so reckless and let them stab you that badly?” you asked reproachfully. After all you were worried about him.

“First of all I didn't even know I was stabbed” he admitted sheepishly.

“How is that possible?” you raised your eyebrows. Sure, sometimes people didn't feel they were hurt because of an adrenaline, but this wound was serious, he should have known. Unless he simply ignored it.

“Do I look like I knew?”

“No, you don't look like you knew anything” you deadpanned. Time was passing painfully slowly. Jacob tried to joke with his Rooks how he hoped this incident won't ruin his reputation among them. You were just waiting.

Finally the knife was ready. You took it and told the Rooks to hold the Assassin very still and be extra careful. He could hurt both of you if he moved too rapidly. You took a deep breath to calm down, it was always stressful and you never liked that, causing someone's pain, even if it was necessary. You removed the knife that was stopping the bleeding and you slid the hot knife inside the wound to cauterise it and prevent also inner bleeding. The smell of burnt flesh filled your nostrils and the screams of pain were ringing in your ears. Jacob's body jerked, but the Rooks held him firmly, so he didn't do anything.

If that wasn't enough, the door opened and Evie Frye herself burst into the pub. There was no worse moment than this, when her brother's cries filled the room. She pushed through the Rooks until she reached the table. You removed the knife, the bleeding finally stopped and you sighed relieved.

“Jacob” you called firmly. “Hey” you slapped his cheek lightly, only to keep him awake. “Hold on. We're almost done, the worst part is over” you promised. He opened his eyes and the first what he saw was his sister.

“Evie? Great” the man muttered. “I'm dead” he whispered, closing his eyes. You knew he was conscious, his heavy breathing and face twisted in pain could tell you that.

“Shut up, idiot” she answered and you could swear her voice cracked. She made easier to bandage the wound by carefully lifting Jacob to the sitting position and leaning him against her chest. You two worked in silence, when you looked at her, you saw a deep worry and sadness on her face when she brushed her brother's hair, trying to comfort him. Even though she rarely showed it, she deeply cared about her twin and she loved him more than anything.

The Rooks took Jacob upstairs, to the owner's quarters, to let him rest, Evie followed them. You cleaned the mess and finished your beverage before you followed them either. When the Rooks had left, you told Evie everything that happened. After that, you've sat in silence for a while.

“I always knew he was reckless and stupid, but this is a whole new level of being an idiot” she said, never looking away from her brother. “When I was told he needed help, I thought it was something unimportant, maybe he was just drunk or got into the fight. And when I was near the pub, I heard him scream... it hurt, you know? I felt almost physical pain when I heard it, because I knew it was something very serious” her blue eyes shimmered with tears which didn't need much to fall on the freckled cheeks. Evie quickly wiped them with her sleeve.

“It's all right, you can cry if you want to” you said softly. “He's your brother after all. It's normal you feel sad when someone who you love suffers” you added, biting your lower lip.

“Are you saying that from your own experience?” she asked and you blushed lightly. Did she know? You couldn't tell.

“Yeah” you admitted. “Sort of.”

She didn't push. You didn't say. It was a conversation for another time.

You spent the night watching over Jacob, sleeping only when you were certain Evie wasn't. You didn't want to risk that you could sleep when the man would wake up. But he didn't, until the early morning. The female twin literally kicked you when she saw her brother stirring in his sleep. You quickly awakened, watching as he was waking up slowly.

“Jacob. Jake...” you called softly. You knew no one ever called him that, but you weren't thinking much that moment. “Look at me, baby. Look at me” you caressed his cheek to help him focus on you.

“(Y/n)?” he asked quietly, his low, sleepy voice made your heart skip a beat.

“That's it. How do you feel?”

“Terrible.”

“Here. Drink” Evie offered a glass of water. You two helped Jacob drink it.

“Thanks. I think I’m going to rest today” he decided when he was lying back on the pillow.

“You have no other option. We wouldn't let you get out of bed anyway” his sister said. The man took her hand and squeezed it gently.

“I'm sorry.”

“We'll talk about this later” Evie reciprocated the squeeze. “Now I need to go and you need to sleep. I leave you in the good hands” she smiled and left.

“She was worried about you, you know?” you said, looking at him. Jacob sighed.

“I do. And I'm impressed she took it so well. I don't know what would I do if the roles were reversed” he admitted. You didn't say anything, so he closed his eyes and after a while he was asleep again. Everything was calm and quiet.

You stirred, feeling a warm hand on your head. It was brushing your hair gently and carefully, trying to wake you up. Wait, when did you fall asleep? Your eyes fluttered open and you lifted your head. You were sitting on the floor by the bed, but you couldn't remember why did you decide to do that. You looked at Jacob whose hand stopped stroking your hair and laid on your cheek.

“Jacob? How are you?” you asked sleepily.

“Better than in the morning” he admitted. “The wound still hurts, but at least it doesn't bleed.”

“We'll see if it doesn't” you said, covering your mouth when you yawned and then you stood up, stretching your muscles. “Do you think you can stand up?”

“I hope so, because I need to use a bathroom.”

You giggled and helped him, but only a little. He was indeed in a better state than before, though he definitely needed a couple of days before he would be able to fight and free run. When the bathroom business was done, you undid the bandages to examine the wound and it looked pretty good. No fever, no reopening, no sign of infection. You redid the bandages for extra protection and helped your patient to get back to bed.

“What?” you asked finally after a long moment of silence.

“What "what"?” Jacob asked, trying to pretend he didn't know what you were asking about.

“You've been staring at me for a while. Do you want to say something or...?” you hesitated. He looked at you nervously.

“Actually... yes. Well, first of all thank you for patching me up of course and... I just wanted to ask... what you said in the morning...”

“I didn't say anything-” you tried to protest, but he interrupted you.

“You called me 'baby'.”

“Oh...” you blushed. You hoped maybe he didn't quite catch it. Well, he did.

“I thought... I hoped... that maybe... maybe that meant something” the man looked at you sheepishly. For the first time you noticed how adorable he was. His cheeks had the same pink shade that probably had yours and under that whole brash gang leader facade was a very warm and sensitive heart. If you weren't already in love, you would fall for him this moment.

“I wasn’t thinking what I was saying. I cared only about you to be fine” you admitted. “But... do you want it to mean something?” you asked hesitantly.

“I do” he whispered. You gasped with surprise. He had many women around him, all willing to do anything to have his attention. Yet he chose to show some interest to you.

“I... I never expected that you... that maybe... ah, crap” you sighed, unable to find the right words. You took a deep breath, trying to form a coherent utterance. “I've fell for you some time ago” you blurted out, blushing hard and unable to look him in the eye. “I never said anything, because I was certain you didn't feel the same way. After all, you could have anyone you wanted. A very few women and not straight men would decline. I just thought I have no chance, I'm neither beautiful nor useful. Why would you show any interest in me?” you shrugged, smiling sadly.

“You caught my attention a long time ago. We were liberating children from one of the factories and you casually walked by. When you saw us, you didn't think much, you rushed to help the children. Then you did the same when I made this explosion...” he hesitated. You could see he still felt guilty about it.

“It's okay, the children survived. They wouldn't if you didn't come back though” you reassured him. You knew of course he caused the "accident", you've seen him around the building before it exploded, but you knew everyone makes mistakes.

“But the thought I let it happen because Roth...” Jacob closed his eyes and shook his head, tryingto get rid of his memories. You had heard of Maxwell Roth, how important he was for Jacob. You had been even told that things were pretty serious, someone even dared to say they were in love. Everything was a deep secret of course, but that was how you realized Jacob was attracted to both women and men. “Anyway. I started to ask my Rooks about you and they told me you don't want to join us, but you want to help. And I must admit, your medical skills are something we could use. I kept telling everyone and myself that I want your skills, but one day I realized I just want you. When you casually approached me last night and told me to undress, I was this close to obeying without a word” he chuckled, showing a half-inch space between his fingers.

“That would be interesting to watch” you chuckled too. A moment of silence fell between you before Jacob spoke.

“Would it... would it be too much to ask for a kiss?” he asked sheepishly and you couldn't help but laugh.

“I'm sorry, but I've just confessed I have feelings for you and you ask me if the most obvious thing you should do would be too much?” you looked at him amused. “You can be so cute sometimes.”

“Wha-” he tried to ask, but you leaned down and kissed him. Jacob kissed you back, snaking his arms around you.

None of you noticed Evie who stood by the door with the most "it's about time" impression ever.

#assassin's creed #jacob frye x reader #jacob frye #my fic

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crystallinecrimsonmoth · 3 years

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Future Serial Killer [ongoing]

Chapter 8

Notes: All signing and words on paper is in italics.

Carl walked into his shared bedroom covered in walker blood and guts, smelling like death itself. He had spent half an hour with Negan, smashing in skulls.

It was messy, unsanitary, but he enjoyed it. Negan had leaned against a tree and watched as Carl used Lucille to rip into dead flesh, glad he was able to help the kid relax after the stress of coming out to him.

He was grateful for that. His mind still drifted to the death of his dad and sister, reminding him that Negan wasn’t a good guy, though the more he was nice to him, the less he thought about that. Slowly but surely, Negan was becoming someone he felt like he could trust, even if it had only been a week since he’d taken in Carl and his friends. It was enough – Negan had done nothing to hurt any of them since they arrived.

The teen had a renewed hope in the psycho’s ability to care, or he was just turning into a psycho himself.

He had felt such glee and peace while smashing in walkers’ heads, the sound of bones cracking sending shivers up his spine until he was bringing Lucille down on the dead, again and again, hands gripping the bat with white knuckles.

He didn’t understand why he loved it so much.

He noticed Daniel lying down on the bed, the teen frowning at him when he came in and signing to him. Carl had picked up the language pretty quickly, but Dan still had a notepad beside the bed that he wrote in once he'd signed his first sentence.

‘Carl? Dude, what happened to you? Are you okay?’

Carl tilted his head a little and nodded with a slight smile, stepping into the room fully and approaching his bed.

‘Hey, Dan.’

‘Carl, you’re tracking blood into the room! Tell me what happened!’ The note on the pad was in capital letters.

Carl stopped when he reached the bed, looking down at his boots and seeing the blood covering them.

‘Negan…’

‘Did Negan hurt you? Carl?’ Sign language again.

Carl shook his head slower, wiping his hand across his cheek and looking at it when it came back covered in blood. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why wasn’t this affecting him?

He looked up at Daniel, taking a moment to focus on him through the haze of adrenaline he was swimming in. He’d been thinking about it the whole time he hit into the walkers, how to tell Daniel, how to tell Ada, how to break up with Ada in the kindest way possible. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he really had liked her at the start, but now his life was in a safe place, he’d had time to think about it all. He’d had time to come into himself and realise the truth, so he told Daniel that.

‘I think I’m gay, Dan.’

He saw his friend’s eyebrows furrow, confusion on his features while Carl stared back, somewhere between dead and numb. He didn’t know what else to say, unsure of Daniel’s reaction never mind what he could possibly do other than admit his sexuality.

It took Dan a moment, but he nodded, getting Carl’s towel from the hook on the wall.

‘You need a shower, buddy.’ He signed to the teen who stood still for a moment before nodding, a grin spreading on his face.

He didn’t know why he was so happy, or maybe he wasn’t. Maybe it was relief.

Carl followed his friend to the showers and obediently washed away the blood, letting out a little cry of frustration when he realised his hair would be damp for the rest of the day.

‘Feel better?’

He looked over at Daniel who was holding out the towel with a smile, managing a smile back.

‘Yeah. Still have to talk to Ada though.’ Carl sighed, drying off and pulling fresh clothes on, slipping into his sneakers since the boots were still covered in blood.

‘She’ll understand. You weren’t a thing for that long, Carl, it isn’t a huge deal.’ Daniel signed, shrugging.

Carl shrugged too, following him back to the room and climbing up to his bunk. Daniel perched on the ladder, looking up at him.

‘What did Negan say?’

‘That it’s not a big deal and I shouldn’t worry about it.’

‘He’s right.’

‘Who’s right?’

Carl’s eyes widened as he heard Ada’s voice, looking up from Daniel to see Ada standing by the door. Both him and Daniel stared at her before the young girl got weirded out by it.

‘Quit staring and tell me what you’re gossiping about.’ She told them sternly and perched on her own bed while the boys glanced at each other, Daniel nodding to Carl to encourage him to tell her.

Carl hesitated when Ada looked at him, brown eyes wide with concern. They were different from Negan’s, darker like chocolate. Negan’s were more like a whiskey… wait, no, why did he know that?

‘Carl?’

The panic flared in Carl’s chest when Ada said his name again, his earlier worries about her not being okay with their break-up coming up and making a lump in his throat, thick and hard with the danger and upset he felt.

He took a deep breath, tried to stop it, but his hand was shaking on his knee, vibrating with the sheer anxiety filling his mind.

‘Carl?’

Fuck, why was he so worried? What was this? Why was he only getting like this now? He was living in an apocalypse, for fuck's sake, shouldn’t he be anxious already? Shouldn’t he have had a panic attack on his knees in front of Negan when he was swinging Lucille around?

He didn’t even notice Ada taking his walkie talkie. Daniel’s hand was squeezing his, he knew that much, the other boy having climbed up the ladder to sit on his bed with him. He squeezed back, viciously tight, trying to control his breathing without much luck.

‘Carl?’

Carl couldn’t process the voice in his ears, too stressed to focus on anyone or anything, listening blindly to the voices around him.

Negan had dropped everything when Ada’s voice came over the walkie, even Lucille falling to his feet as he ran to the underground rooms, narrowly avoiding the people he passed. Everyone moved out of his way as he came barging through, looking afraid of the angry look on their leader’s face.

Negan wasn’t angry, he was worried. Hearing that Carl was having a panic attack made concern blossom in his chest as soon as it left Ada’s lips, the idea of the teen having a panic attack without him there doing weird things to his heart.

He ran until he reached the bedroom Carl shared with Ada and Daniel, barging in without regard for whoever was inside. He saw Daniel on the bed beside Carl, the kid’s face bright red as he descended further into his attack. It made Negan’s heart break.

‘He’s having a panic attack-’

‘Yeah, no shit!’ He snapped angrily at Ada, not sure why he was so pissed at her for something that wasn’t her fault.

The girl looked shocked, her eyes wide.

‘Don’t yell at me, it isn’t my fault!’

That angered Negan more than it should, his pride hurt by the fact that she’d yelled back. He couldn’t help slapping her, the worry for Carl overloading his mind.

‘Don’t talk back, bitch, this is my house and the only reason you’re here is that Carl wants you here! Get the fuck out!’ He roared, baring his teeth in a snarl at her until Ada stormed out.

He turned to Daniel with the same snarl once she was gone, glaring at him until the boy rolled his eyes, following Ada out of the room.

Carl was still shaking, hyperventilating and curled in on himself. He wasn’t crying, which was good, but it didn’t give Negan much comfort.

He approached the bunk bed as silently as he could, kicking off his boots so he could climb up and sit beside the teen. Negan didn’t know why Carl’s state of mental wellbeing was causing him so much pain, putting it down to paternal instincts now that he was in charge of him.

He sat down on the bunk bed awkwardly, far too tall to fit on the bed with Carl at the same time. Slowly, he put his hands in Carl’s, letting him squeeze tight for some grounding while he controlled his breathing.

‘You’re okay, buddy. Deep breaths.’ Negan reassured, keeping his tone low to try and soothe him.

The grip on his hands tightened until Carl’s breathing evened out and the red strain in his face dissipated. Negan went to speak but Carl beat him to it.

‘I miss my dad…’ It was choked out, like the kid was trying to keep himself from crying.

Well didn’t that just crack Negan’s heart wide open.

He watched, wary of making him more upset considering he had been the one to kill his dad, and just waited for the teen to speak again.

Carl didn’t, and suddenly Negan had an armful of teenager, the kid burying his face into his shoulder and crying. Negan froze, shocked that he would seek comfort in someone like him, but he eventually curled his arms around him.

‘It’s okay, kiddo. Let it all out, you’ve barely had time to grieve.’ He sighed, running his hand over the teen’s damp hair as the shoulder of his shirt was soaked in tears.

They sat like that for a long time, Negan comforting Carl with soft words and slow rubs of his back. The older man found himself losing a fight with his mind, distracted by the fresh scent of Carl’s hair and skin. The closer he held him, the less he could help inhaling the teen’s scent.

He began to realise that maybe his feelings for his enemy’s son weren’t entirely paternal, and that fact filled him with dread as he continued to stroke through Carl’s hair, shushing his cries.

#cegan #future serial killer #chapter 8 #carl x negan #carl/negan #negan x carl

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btsandvmin · 5 years

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BTS in London - Concert report

I’m back from London and two amazing concert days! I also bought a lot of merchandise, both from the BT21 and BTS pop-up stores as well as concert merch. The lines were of course really long. The one for the BTS pop-up store went around the whole block, and for the concert it was also in direct sunlight so it got extremely hot. But in the end I got a lot of nice things (mainly clothes and a Van pillow) so I can’t really complain.

I wanted to write a concert report, mostly for my own sake. But I will share it here, in case someone would like to read about my thoughts regarding the Wembley concerts.

DAY 1

For the concert itself the first day we were there around 10 am to stand in line for the merch, so then we had a lot of time to pass before the actual concert. But it was great to not have to stress, especially compared to O2 last year when the floor tickets were open so we had to stand in line all day to ensure we got good spots.

This year on the first day we also had floor seats but like I said, this time all of them were numbered (we had C3 seats), so again really nice to not have to stress. We didn’t get as close as last year, but we saw them pretty well when they went out to the podium stage and the energy there was great.

I must say, Dionysus as opening was just incredible. Even though it was hard to see the main stage from where we were the energy of the song just caught the whole stadium and the set and music just fills you up with excitement.

Then they kept going with Not today and Wings, which were incredible to hear live. Wings was added from last year and I loved it. It was a perfect concert song that actually got me a bit emotional. Wings was my first BTS album, so in a way those songs hold a special place in my heart.

Also, for their introductions you could tell all the boys have all practiced so hard on their English. And JK of course seemed really eager to give back for last year (even though it obviously wasn’t his fault). He was bouncing around like crazy with so much energy pretty much the whole concert.

Just dance is such a bop and the audience was amazing for the song, chanting J-hope’s name and it was just really fun. For Euphoria I didn’t expect Kookie to get up in the air, but again, just amazing to get to see him do it the way he would have wanted to last year.

Then followed Best of me! Which is also a personal favorite song of mine so I jumped a lot to it. It’s a good thing we had chairs and could sit down for the intermissions.

Then it was Namjoon and Jimin’s solos, and they did well even though Jimin’s bubble didn’t want to burst. Jimin also sang some parts live, which he didn’t really do last year so that was really nice.

I filmed some for Trivia: Love, but my camera is not that good so mostly I just decided to not use my phone at all and rather just enjoy being so close to the boys. I feel some people were filming pretty much the whole time, and personally I wouldn’t recommend that as you won’t be able to take in the experience the same way when you film. (My sister took some more videos and photos though, so I might share them if I get them from her.)

Namjoon was really up close during his solo, and man does he have a stage presence. Then the walk back on the runway before Boy with luv, and Vmin’s hug! The stadium went pretty wild. Boy with Luv was fun as well, especially since we all sang along to it. Then followed the medley of Dope/Babsae and Fire which were super fun to dance and sing along to.

Then came IDOL and the hype got real! I mean, I think IDOL was probably the song that had the audience pumped the most. Last year it was the starting song, but I personally think it worked even better and got more hype this way a bit further into the concert. The intro was enough to just have us all jumping.

For Singularity I mostly watched the screen since he was pretty far away (and I also had a pretty tall girl in front of me). But just listening to Tae, who actually sang big parts of the song live this time was great.

Fake Love of course got us all waiving our Army Bombs with the chant! Also, people really screamed for JK’s abs… Haha.

Now, I must say, the background for Seesaw was amazing. It looked so good and created the perfect atmosphere for the song. For me, together with Just dance and Euphoria, I felt Seesaw really stood out amongst the solo songs this time and I was pretty much just mesmerized by Yoongi.

Epiphany was also great, and Jin really is an incredible singer, but personally as it was pretty much one of the highlights for me last year I thought the arrangement, sound and the stage was better last time. Still great, and leading up to the emotional The truth untold. I had a hard time looking away from Jimin, he kept turning around as if to cough, and you could tell that again he was really emotional during the performance. I just hope he didn’t have a hard time.

For Tear, man…. I don’t know what to say except the auras of rapline for this song are unreal. And their outfits look amazing. I couldn’t have looked away even if I wanted to. And then followed by Mic Drop it’s just such a high on adrenaline, jumping up and down and singing along.

Then it was time for the boys to speak, and again, you can just tell they have practiced so hard on their English. Everyone but Yoongi was almost entirely in English. I felt so proud and happy to hear them try so hard to be able to communicate with ARMY. They were all so happy and it was easy to tell that coming to Wembley meant a lot to them. Jin with his Bohemian Rhapsody chant and Jimin’s ARMY~! shouts were both really cute and funny. I felt a bit bad for Taehyung though, because it felt like people had some trouble hearing him. They all seemed pretty emotional, and for JK when he started apologizing for last year it was just so good to hear that he could feel happy about the concerts this time. Hobi seemed really moved by the audience, which I can understand because honestly for both days I would say the reactions he got were some of the best. It must have been overwhelming. For Namjoon it was also cute how he got this strange almost British accent when speaking. His speech about UK being a wall was also really impactful and made me feel proud to be an ARMY.

The sea of purple and then rainbow ARMY bombs was also really touching and beautiful. The concert then ended with Mikrokosmos, which of course gave us all some cute Vmin interactions. Though I must admit that Love Myself as an ending song last year was much more emotional for me personally, even though I really love Mikrokosmos as a song. The fireworks were also pretty impressive together with the music.

Then when the music and end credits ended it was time to head home, and it was really fun because even outside people were waving their ARMY bombs around. The amount of people was truly crazy. I went to the G-Dragon concert at the arena next to Wembley two years ago, and the difference in people is just staggering. It took a full hour to walk from the stadium to the train station. And that was the end of the first concert day!

DAY 2

Now the second day we got there much later since we already had merch, and it was nice to feel so rested despite us having been drained on energy the previous day thanks to the concert. This time we had stands but still pretty good spots. Of course it was a lot easier to see and follow everything going on from further away, and with less people in front of you, so that was nice. I also had a chance to film and take more photos on the second day. I won’t go through the songs here, because most of what I thought and felt was really similar to day 1.

It was nice that the bubble worked for Jimin in Serendipity and I also didn’t expect to see Vmin in So What, so that was a nice surprise. The hug between Jimin and Hobi was also really cute.

After Boy with luv on the second day the boys were having fun joking about Harry Potter and making different “spells”. Seeing Jin stupefy JK was really funny. And Namjoon’s “Shut up Malfoy!” had us all cracking up. I love it when they bring up old memes of themselves.

Now, the really huge difference between the first and second day, besides our seats, was of course the end ment and also the surprise ARMY had for BTS. I must also say that at least to me, the audience seemed to be more on and more hyper on day two. We kept doing the wave even during the waits, and the screams were louder and the chants more clear. So I am really glad I got to experience both days.

The ending ment started with us doing the wave, and the rainbow sea at the end is so pretty. Taehyung said it was beautiful and that it would always be in his heart, and I don’t know why but that really struck a chord with me. Jimin also patted his shoulder at that moment. I don’t know, I was just more emotional in general the second day. Then Namjoon told him he was in the wrong place so he moved away to his usual side on the stage.

The audience was really good and chanted every members name as they spoke. They all also seemed pretty emotional already, and knowing we were about to sing Young Forever (a song I know is special to them) I expected to see tears. They were so confused at first, and some ARMY also started to sing the song a bit early, but the effect it had on them was clear. The shock and emotion from the members as they realized what was happening was just amazing to see. I got really emotional too of course, especially seeing JK, Jimin and Hobi getting pretty overwhelmed and crying. It was a beautiful moment and I don’t think BTS or the ARMY there will ever forget it.

As the song ended they all thanked us again, this time most of them were unable to do so in Korean, probably too overwhelmed to even form sentences properly. You could really feel their love and how much they appreciated the song. As mikrokosmos came on their singing was very unstable and notes all over the place. They were clearly still very shaken after Young Forever. Jimin didn’t seem to be able to focus on much except ARMY and Tae walked over to comfort him during their part in the song. It was a really sweet moment. Then the fireworks went of and the members started saying goodbye and it was all over for real. A really really emotional ending and a memory I will never forget.

So, in total it was two amazing concerts and I am so happy I was lucky enough to get tickets for both days. I haven’t watched the vlive version of day 1 yet, but I am so happy it exists so that I can relieve that day again.

For me the songs that really stood out this time was hype songs like Dionysus, Fire, Bapsae, Idol, So what and Mic Drop. As well as Wings, Just Dance, Euphoria, Seesaw and the whole ending with Make it right and Mikrokosmos.

The sound of the huge stadium and reverb made it a little difficult for me to hear well at times (especially on the floor), but over all it was two really great concert days!

BONUS

Also, every time I go to London I try to stay close to China Town since I love the food. I basically only eat Japanese and Korean when I am in London. And there is this one Korean BBQ restaurant we always go to, and so we went there to book a table for our last day. Imagine my surprise when we I checked and saw that JK and Jimin had went to that restaurant to eat on the same day we went there to book our table. So close and yet so far! When we went there I also managed to get a picture of their autographs. Seems like Jin had also been there since they had his autograph as well. When we ate there they also played a lot of BTS, so it was pretty much the perfect end to our BTS weekend in London. <3

Not sure if anyone found this interesting, but I wanted to write it all down, at least for my own sake. Thank you so much if you enjoyed this. :)

#bts speak yourself #bts wembley #bts london #Bts speak yourself tour #bts concert report #2019.06.01 #2019.06.02 #btsandvmin #my post #personal #namjoon #hoseok #seokjin #taehyung #jimin #jungkook #yoongi

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shesadramaqueen · 5 years

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Restless Feeling; Brian May x N!Reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Hi love can I request a Bri fanfic pleeeeeeese 😊😊😊 anything really- probably one at Wembley backstage or something 😋😋😋 x

Summary: Even though all members of Queen are excited and restless for the concert, Brian seems to be terrified, and you're determined to make him see he'll be just fine.

Context: This is placed at backstage of Wembley stage on 1986.

Word count: 2.5 K

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: it was a bit hard to figure this one out as I didn't know how to start oops but I’m really happy with how it turned out! so thanks to my main bitch aka @turkey-bacon-for-queen for helping me out with my lack of inspiration kksks also I got the gif from @eternalfreddie 's header, luv u. Also I finished this late at night, so I apologize if there are any mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

Permanent taglist: @turkey-bacon-for-queen

You had always loved the feeling that floated around backstage before a concert. There was always a buzzing energy; a mix of excitedness, restlessness and a hint of nervousness as well.

Queen always emanated light before going out to give the people what they want. No matter the size of the crowd or how important the event was, adrenaline could always be tasted and it never failed to send tingles to the wholeness of your being.

But there was something off that evening and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. You tried to dismiss that feeling, telling yourself it wasn’t something important, and you started chatting with Phoebe, who apparently had a hilarious story to tell about how Freddie almost killed him once with a butter knife after he had locked Goliath outside on accident. Eventually the rest of the band gathered aroud to hear the man speak.

“Best thing: he fell while chasing me! He was absolutely shit-faced, I don’t even think he knew why he was angry” he said, his cheeks completely red from holding in his laughter.

“Better watch what you’re saying, darling, or I’ll kick you out with just a snap of my fingers” Freddie said with a hand on his hip and a threatening finger pointing at him, which made the story-teller wheeze so hard he looked like his lungs were going to come out of his mouth. His laughter was so contagious he made all of you crack up again.

The scene was absolutely priceless: Roger had ended up on the floor, rolling around and only shaking, as he was laughing so hard he wasn't making a single noise, John was bent over, with his face on his hands and letting out choked cackles and you were laying on the sofa with your hands holding your stomach, which hurt from laughing so hard, with tears were rolling down your cheeks. Even Freddie was struggling to keep his menacing posture and eventually started giggling uncontrollably. As for Brian...

You sat down with difficulties, now only a couple of chuckles escaping your lips and you blinked a couple times before you squinted and scanned the room.

“Oh” you thought out loud after you gave meaning to the uneasy feeling that had been drilling your head for the whole time.

“Hey, has anyone seen Brian?” you asked, but they all shook their head absentmindedly, still high on laughter.

“20 minutes!” one member of the staff announced and you bit your lip. You had to go find Brian.

You got up and got out of the main dressing room without saying a thing to anyone, knowing they wouldn’t miss you in that moment.

‘Maybe he’s in the bathroom?’ you wondered, starting to walk towards were you believed the restroom was, but all the hallways were so similar that you weren’t sure where you came from or where you were going.

Wembley’s stage was a huge place, full of corridors with dozens of doors each. You started to worry, hoping you’d find him in the little time you had.

Your quick pace slowed down when you heard a faint, familiar strumming, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

You followed the sound, which carried you into one of the rooms, the door open so slightly you probably wouldn't have noticed it was unlocked if you were just walking by.

Your heart fluttered when you peaked your head inside and you saw the curly-haired boy sitting on the sofa that was there, with his guitar on his leg. You wondered how could he possibly play a single string, when he was bouncing his leg up and down like crazy. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

You knocked on the door firmly so he could hear you over the persistent notes, and he jumped, looking towards the door with wide eyes.

When he saw it was you, his features softened and he gave you a small smile, before setting his guitar to the side and scooting over to let you sit next to him.

“How are you feeling? It’s unusual for you to disappear out of the blue” you said looking at him with a warm grin, but he was playing with the sixpence he used as a pick, not looking at you.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just wanted to get away from all the banter so I could actually tune the old lady” he said with a nervous smile, and he got up to sit in in front of the dressing table.

‘He’s avoiding me’ you thought, quirking a brow up in disbelief.

“Oh yeah?” you simply said, getting up as well, following after him.

He always did this; hide his true feeligs to appear strong. But you knew that he hated lying to you, and if you stood around him completely silent long enough, he would eventually spit out the truth. He always did.

So you stood behind him and you brought your hands up to put his messy curls in place. He shifted in his seat, but he didn’t look directly to you, he just fixed his gaze anywhere else.

You clicked your tongue, struggling a bit to sort his hair out. When he was nervous, he messed it around in order to keep himself busy. It was like a coping mechanism, just like with the random strumming he did.

When you finally finished, you laid your hands on his shoulders, noticing he was the tenstest you’d ever seen, so you started massging him in order to try and relax him. He immediately let out a groan and rolled his eyes back, obviously enjoying it.

You chuckled slightly, and his gaze finally laid on yours, hesitantely. You locked eyes with him, quirking both eyebrows up in an inquiring way.

He whineed in defeat and you smirked.

“Fine!” he said dramatically, letting his head hang back “I’m actually terrified”.

You muttered a triumphant “I knew it” and gently kissed his forehead before moving back to the sofa.

This made him look at you with a pout before you motioned him to sit next to you, at which he almost jumped excitedly to join you and you cuddle up, holding him while he laid against your chest.

“I just... I’m really, really nervous” he starts “This is like one of the biggest concerts we’ve done like, ever. Not only today is filled, but there were so many people willing to come that we have to perform again tomorrow, which is full as well and they didn’t book a third day lord knows why, because I’m sure people would have bought all the tickets again!” he said throwing his arms in the air.

He didn’t let you intervine and he continued “And like, that’s good, right? Cause it means people like us but...” he let his arms fall on his chest “I’m just having doubts” he shrugged and you could feel how he pressed his lips together, even if you couldn’t see his face “I just feel very stressed and... what if I’m not that good?”

You couldn’t help but scoff and say “what does that even mean?”

He shrugged again “I don’t know, maybe I’m just not the guitar master everyone says I am. You have been there the last three rehersals we’ve done. I don’t think I even played a single chord correctly, let alone a bloody solo.”

While you listened to his ranting, you stroked his hair and arms and kissed him wherever you could reach to comfort him.

Some seconds of silence sat between you two while he composed himself and you gathered your thoughts.

“It’s alright to be nervous, Brian, we all are!” you broke the stillness that had set in the room while playing with the fabric of his collar “And you can’t honestly think that people have actually been lying to you about being a great guitarist, right?” you said, incredulous, which made his cheeks flush with a faint pink colour “Do you really think you would be where you are if people were just being nice? Just imagine, Queen having thousands of fans because all the music is perfect except the bloody guitarrist, who sucks, but hey, lets say he doesn’t so he doesn’t feel hurt” you heard his laugh and it made some of the tension that had build up on your back disappear “And, sincerily? You were pretty bad on the last rehersals” you said without a filter.

Brian loved that about you. Always sincere and honest, no matter what. It still made his heart ache a little bit. One thing was him thinking it and another one was hearing it from someone else.

“It wasn’t your fault, though” you said, and he looked up to see your face, slightly confused. “I mean, do you remember all the shit that has happened to you lately? The first day you, Brian Harold May, arrived one bloody hour late because you were stuck in traffic. You were fuming, and the others were just climbing the walls. I’m sure that affected how you played.”

He chuckled slightly, feeling a slight sense of ease “Yeah, I guess so” he muttered.

“Then the day after, I remember you had a deadly migraine. You threw up at least 3 times in the morning and I tried to persuade you to stay in bed, but of course, Mister Stubborn May had to go into the studio.” you looked at him with your ‘I told you so’ face, and he smacked one of your thighs playfully.

“And then because of the migraine you didn’t sleep at all, because let’s be honest, I didn’t either.” this time, he blushed deepely “I’m sorry, did I bother you?”

You rolled your eyes, the corners of your lips tugging up. “Of course not, Bri-Bri! I didn’t notice your constant rolling on the bed, different cuddling positions, humming, shuffling around the room or the talking to yourself. I didn’t notice it at all!” you said sarcastically with a fake bubblegum voice.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled, embarassed, and you hugged him before pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“Anyways, that lack of sleep, also messed your guitar playing up. Actually, it’s crazy nothing bad has happened today, so I guess you wasted all your bad luck and this performance is just bound to be perfect. Have you tried playing anything?”

He shook his head and looked at you again “I was so afraid to mess up I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Well, get your arse up and start playing!” you shoved him off your chest to sit him up.

He got up to pick the Red Special before sitting on the edge of the couch. He plucked the 6 strings before sending you a look, and you nodded reassuringly.

He took a deep, shaky breath before starting to play Tie Your Mother Down.

Your breath caught up in your throat as the melody struck you, getting into you and wrapping your bones tight, feeling it echo inside your chest even if it wasn’t plugged into an amp.

His eyes were shinning when he looked at you after he finished “I did it! It was perfect”

“I know!” you squealed, and he barely had time to put his guitar aside before you climbed on his lap and started kissing him passionately, with a big smile on each others faces and an ecstatic feeling flowing.

He pulled away, and cupped your cheek before opening his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a loud voice coming from the other side of the door.

“I’M NOT GOING INSIDE BECAUSE I DON’T WANT TO LOSE THE FEW EYESIGHT I HAVE LEFT WATCHING YOU BOTH BUTT-NAKED, BUT WE’RE OUT IN 5 AND DEAKY IS STARTING TO GET REALLY PISSED, SO I’D RUSH UNLESS YOU WANT TO SEE HIM ANGRY, HAROLD.”

Roger then walked away, stomping dramatically. You looked at each other, amused, before breaking out in uncontrollable laughter.

You got off his lap with difficulty, finding it hard to breath in between laughs.

“’Cmon, let’s go, you don’t want to enrage the almighty Disco Deaky” you said, which only made him laugh more.

You rushed to reunite with the others, one of Brian’s hand holding his guitar, the other one holding yours.

“It was about time” John snapped at you both when you reached the rest of the band, which only made the curly haired man wheeze and bend over. He shut up when the bass player sent him a death glare and you tried your best not to snort when he made a funny face, as in to mock Deaky’s temper.

Brian then let go of you and peaked through to see the stage, and you could see how he stared in awe. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling so happy that you were finally seeing him on his zone, completely relaxed and emanating light.

“One minute!” one member of the staff announed, and all the band members jumped in excitement.

“Good luck, my boys!” you beamed, and they all answered a “thank you”. Except Freddie, who said “Don’t need it, darling!” with a cheeky smile.

You group hugged, a thing you always did before they went on stage and it felt like the best thing in the world. You all would have stayed like that for much longer, loving the intimate moment, but had to pull away when you all heard “20 seconds! Please position yourselves.”

You rushedly kissed all four of them on the cheek and waved at them goodbye, and they all practically skipped away while going towards one of the side wings, the only thing separating them from the crowd was a thin layer of cloth.

“Wait!” you called after Brian, and you cupped his face when he turned around, kissing him eagerly. “Break a leg, tiger” you said, winking at him.

He didn’t have time to answer, as he was pulled away by the staff to get him were he was supposed to be.

When he was finally next to the boys, when all Queen was together, you finally took your time to really look at them, even if it was for 5 seconds. It was like the fabric that separated the inside from the outside was like a portal to another world, like the only thing that was making them keep sanity. You knew the second they put a foot on stage, when they heard the screams, when they felt the thousands of eyes on them, the breathtaking sensation that never seemed to go away, they’d lose their mind to the music, giving it all to their people.

“Alright! Time’s up!” you finally heard, and two bodyguards opened the curtain for them, and they ran through the threshold, Brian throwing you a final kiss before disappearing. Not even 3 seconds later, you heard the crowd roar.

You ran to get yourself somewhere where you could able to see them perfectly, an eager feeling setting in your stomach.

You shook your head in disbelief when Brian started to play One Vision, the precision of his movements on the Red Special were what dragged your mind away, preparing it to see one of the best performances ever done in history.

#my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #queen fanfiction #queen fic #queen #queen band #queen imagine #brian may #brian may x reader #john deacon #disco deaky #disco deacy #deacy #deaky #freddie mercury #roger taylor

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beybladeimagines · 5 years

Note

heya! so these past few days have been pretty shitty. i was wondering if i could request a scenario where michael comforts his s/o after a stressful day? thank you so much💞💞💞

Mod Note: HELLO MY LOVE! I really hope you’re doing okay and I truly hope you get to feeling better. I’m sorry for just now getting to this, but please know you’ve been on my mind and I wish you nothing but the best.

Every part of your body seems to ache, even though you feel like you hardly did anything today. Each step you take feels like someone has wrapped weights around your legs. You’re practically dragging yourself to the door. The other side is meant to serve as salvation, but you don’t really expect anyone to be inside. These have been very distant and tiring days. You can’t remember the last time you actually saw the face of someone you cared about. Work, life, family - all of it seemed to apply so many unnecessary pressures and yet all you could end up doing was enduring. Ah well. At least your bed would keep you safe and sane. Is it sad that sleep is the only thing you’ve been looking forward to all day? When your arm moves to open the door, you anticipate a wave of air conditioning and darkness, but instead you are meant with the strong scent of roses.

Roses…? Your eyes actually open to take in the scene of your home. Everything remains unchanged, but you catch the small path of petals leading upstairs. A faint light in the distance is the only indication that there is life inside this home… And although the gesture seems sweet on the surface, you are far too nervous to simply accept it as normal. You quietly drop your bag on the floor and follow the floral trail straight towards your room. Your hands remain tightly wrapped around the stair handles and you’re searching for something, anything, that could potentially be used as a weapon. The door to your room is cracked open ever so slightly. You see shadows dancing in the distance. These are parts of a person you don’t recognize, so your heart only ends up accelerating. What are you to do… What else CAN you do? Adrenaline kicks in and you decide to embrace recklessness by running towards the door in an attempt to tackle down your intruder. However, the moment you burst into the room, you are met with something you truly didn’t expect.

Before you crashed into the scene, Michael was making sure everything else looked organized. Despite how flirtatious he can be, Michael wasn’t really the romantic type. He knew how to mimic the affections he saw in movies, but could never really do anything original on his own. He heard about leaving a trail of rose petals towards the bedroom, but he didn’t exactly know what was supposed to happen from there. He had a few ideas, some of which satisfied his personal perversions, but he wanted to prioritize your presence than his own wild intentions. Instead, he chose to arrange some chocolates, snacks, and drinks on your bed, along with a few stuffed animals he loaded up in the cart when he was at the store. He couldn’t decide on which one was the best for you, so he simply grabbed all of them. They were cute, you’re cute - if he had to explain what they reminded him of, the answer was all too easy. Michael simply wanted to establish an atmosphere of comfort and nothing provided that kind of security like soft and tasty things.

He didn’t hear you when you walked in, so he simply assumed he had more time. Arms crossed over his chest and gripped the fabric of his current shirt. He wanted to change into something a bit more casual (and something that didn’t smell like cookie crumbs), so he decided to strip within your room. The movement you saw was him removing his shirt, so when you finally barged into the romantic setting he slaved over, you ended up seeing the chiseled body of a blading Adonis. Despite how graceful that image might be, it was ruined by the sound of him screaming, as the noise seemed to definitely counter your own. You didn’t expect to see him, especially here. He had told you last week that he was leaving to go on some kind of tour, thus leaving you all alone. In truth, his brief absence did seem to correlate with the calamities that followed in your life. When one wonderful thing leaves, it invites the presence of so many unwanted worries.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” You are too wrapped up in your current rage to express any excitement. You didn’t even take the time to see the array of gifts he’s managed to leave upon your bed. Michael, on the other hand, has quickly recovered and now stands dumbfounded by your current statement. Hands fall upon his hips as a smirk begins to blossom on his expression. “Really? That’s how you say you missed me?” You must really be immersed in your own anxieties to think of anything else. He was extremely aware that you’ve been on the edge, so he went out of his way to accommodate those emotions. For once, he is worrying about someone who isn’t himself. But is that really the case if he sees you as his other half?

Body approaches, despite its shirtless state. Michael wraps his arms around you, allowing lips to bury themselves into your neck. He radiates so much warmth. The very heat is enough to pull you away from your initial passions, redirecting attention to the merciful man before you. Just like that, he has wiped away the worry and rage that once plagued your person. Your mind is too ensnared by him and the way he practically hands his body over to you. You feel the trail of kisses he leaves upon sensitive skin, as if he’s trying desperately to keep you here instead of seeing you descend into your own day-dreams again. Selfish boy - doesn’t let you rest or escape, but why would you even want to at this point? You place a hand upon his chest, feeling how calm his heartbeats are in comparison to your own. If only you could mimic those movements, but it seems he’s made that his mission. “You just-… You said you were going to be away.”

He chuckles and that sends sweet vibrations across the flesh of your neck, further sedating your shape. Michael begins to pull away, but he never breaks contact with your creation. His hands are now placed at either side of your waist, as if keeping you grounded while he speaks. “I got back early. You’ve been really off these past few days, so I…” His words trail off. Eyes motion towards the bed where the snacks and stuffed animals have been organized. Looking at it now, it seems almost too childish, but again, he was never really good at this kind of stuff. “I don’t know. I just wanted to surprise you. If it’s something you didn’t expect, but still ended up liking, you wouldn’t have to think about what was bothering you.” To him, words seemed so rational, but all at once, he didn’t expect the amount of chaos that came from him trying to do something so sweet.

You finally peak over his shoulder to see the array of goodies, but then your eyes quickly return to his chest. “So… The shirtless part… Did you want me to eat cookies off you like a table?” You tease him and it’s in that moment that you’ve managed to crack your first smile in so long. The action feels so effortless. He’s always had such a magical way of stealing you from your suffering. Michael, however, grows flustered. He completely forgot about his exposed skin, but all at once, he tries to use his confidence to recover. “Well, that wasn’t my initial intention, but… If that’s what you’re into, babes. I’m sure I can get into whatever position is necessary.” You only snort at his response and this causes his confidence to crumble. His defeated state only awakens more amusement and you continue to feel the weight on your shoulders slowly slipping. It seems he’s done an excellent job at serving as a distraction, even if the method was unintentional.

“I was just trying to change.” He covers his now blushing face with his hand, admitting the truth all too early. You look at him, then back at the shirt he once discarded. If his intentions were to get your mind off of all the little things that didn’t matter, he certainly has succeeded. So, since that’s the case, why not see how far he’ll go to keep you at ease. “I think I should do that too…” Unashamedly, Michael peaks through the gap between his fingers. Your words have caught his attention and he hoped he’d be in for a show if he exposed his eyes. “But after a shower.” You can’t help but wink his way. You motion your arm to grab his hand, leading him towards the bathroom. There is no resistance from his end. Every move he makes is so willing and every step is filled with an untamed energy. Arms wrap themselves around your form from behind. He wants to steal another kiss from your sweet skin before playing into your intentions. “I think you might need some help with that, princess,” he speaks with sugar on his tongue, coating words with so much spirited want. You’ve embedded your idea into his head and he’ll do whatever you desire to keep that mind at ease. So, with that, he wastes no more time, “Allow me…”

#beyblade #beyblade imagine #michael summers #scenario #Anonymous

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alitheamateur · 5 years

Text

The Grind-Chapter 2

See what you’ve missed here …

We had been meeting at The Grind on Tuesday’s, Wednesday’s, & Saturday’s for the last two weeks. We discussed last names, home towns, the obvious sports, and the strange hatred we shared for cherry licorice. I took notes on the path that led him to becoming a fighter, & he filled me in on his basic training habits for a fight of this magnitude. He had been on the wrestling team throughout high school, & could’ve hand picked from the patch any college he wanted to attend, and a scholarship would’ve been offered on a silver platter. For a moment, I let myself envision Colton sporting a varsity letterman jacket marking the halls as captain of the wrestling team. The mental illustration may have produced an overdose of lust, which caused me to shift lustfully in my seat. He chose a rowdier way instead, consisting of drugs & some extra-curricular gambling debt, leaving him in need of some quick pocket cash before he quote, ‘got ran down by some greasy-haired bookie’. Enter, the dabbling inside the octagon.

The first two matches he had managed to pin down had been easy defeats to his pleasant surprise, & a blue fired flame had been lit in his core. The adrenaline. The passion. The sheer ruthlessness was something he said he became dangerously addicted to. The rush of feeling alive, yet toying with combative death, replaced his desires of betting. As he climbed the latter of men’s’ competitive cage-fighting, his mom had fallen ill in the meantime. Leading him eagerly back home to her side, and promising to lay down his habitual drug use, and shady gambling. But the fighting, no. He explained how it had become his only way a life, and an outlet amid all the worrisome stress of his mother’s illness. And his speculations of my Pilot family beaming with excitement once I dropped the story onto their desks, had been correct. Ryan, my boss, had guaranteed me a full front-page for my “excellent snag.”

This particular Saturday morning strayed away from the typical routine the two of us had settled into. Colton suggested I join him for his morning run through the city, and he’d show me around to some of the crevices of Pittsburgh I hadn’t seen. If I’m truthful, nothing about trouncing through the freezing streets of downtown Pittsburgh, in the dead of winter, at 4 a.m. appealed to my senses. However, the added minutes of Colton to my day, were ones I would gladly grasp on to. He offered to meet at my place, because it was “a real bad idea for a girl like me to be wondering alone in the streets at the break of daylight.”

Finishing my second layer of apparel, I took one last survey in the mirror dragging on the thermal elastic headpiece. My dirty blonde waves were tied in a tight ponytail, and I nixed the makeup, concluding this morning would involve ample sweating. I checked my watch spitting out the last remnants of toothpaste, assuring I wouldn’t have my running partner waiting. At that very second, I heard a heavy knock on my door. Spewing a nervous exhale, I made my way to the front of the apartment, loosening my tensed shoulders, and rolling my neck along the way. This was a simple run, not a date. He would probably have headphones stuffed in his ears the entire time, forgetting I was even tagging along at his side. So, why was my stomach twisting dopy somersaults?

I swung the dark green barrier open, and his freshly awoken, soft eyes trailed up my form. “Good-morning sunshine.” He checked his watch, “And I see you’re right on schedule.”

I slung the thick mane off my shoulder as a “take that” to his cheeky tone of surprise at my ability to flop out of bed this time of day. I squeezed the handle closing the door behind me assuring I had locked it, and we made our way down the silent stairs from my upper level abode.

“How far are we going again?” I kicked myself for only now deciding to request that particular information.

“I tracked a course that’ll bring us right back to your place. It’s just 4 miles. You think ya’ can handle it, hot shot?” He smiled teasingly & began jogging backwards out of sight without any warning. What had I gotten myself into?

Just as he’d promised, we completed his perfectly mapped out 4-mile route, ending at the very steps of my apartment complex. There wasn’t much talking along the way, but he’d shoot me a wink shaking his head, impressed that I was able to keep up. We decided to skip out on The Grind, & instead I extended an invite for coffee at my place.

“Make yourself at home, I’ll get the pot started.”

As I was pulling mugs & filling the Mr. Coffee, I watched him intently from afar. He began wandering around my living room looking at every picture I had framed on display. Senior prom with all the girls from the team, my best friend Sara & I on our unplanned trip to Mexico before I left home. He seemed genuinely interested in seeing more of me and his eyes smiled, meticulously observing a deeper look at my life in the snapshots. Who I really was, and where I came from. I could feel a warm snicker sneak onto my lips at the realization.

While the liquid brewed in the kitchen, I found my way back to the living room to join my guest. I dead-weighted myself onto the leather couch with a dramatic, exhausted sigh.

“And here I thought you were in shape after stayin’ on my ass this morning.” He laughed, making his way to the open seat next to me. I extended a light kick in his direction for the insult.

“Next time, my rules. Let’s see how the big bad cage fighter takes on 100 suicide sprints, huh?” Suicides were Coach Gibson’s chosen form of torture, and boy, did he torture us. I considered myself a master of the trade by sophomore year.

“Do you ever miss it? Basketball, I mean?” He propped his sculpted arm on the back of the couch and turned to face me, and his eyes held such sincere interest.

“Every day. It was my way of life. I think, maybe my injury was life’s way of telling me it was time to expand. Grow up, ya’ know? Time to make another name for myself.”

“You have no idea much I get that, Liv. Honestly. But, it looks like you done pretty well for yourself on ya’ own two feet out here.”

That was enough about me, and the basketball topic for today. Ball would lead to my parents, my parents would unveil the family drama, and it wasn’t the right time for such. I needed to shift his attention to something lighter, and quick. But the shift it took, was not one I expected.

“I still can’t seem to get warm! My whole face is numb,” I shuddered.

He reached his masculine hands over playfully to smoosh my cheeks in an attempt to warm my frozen skin, my lips forming into that of a duck face. I reached for his wrists, giving a weak effort to pry his scorching hands from my face with a chuckle. My doe eyes locked with his, and I watched them turn from lighthearted and tender, to darkly mischievous. Our bodies tensed in unison, and he lightened the grip he had on my now very flushed skin, but didn’t release. His dark shadow slowly carried itself into my personal space, and I knew what was coming next. I didn’t dare rush the intensity of this moment, nor do anything to stop the inevitable. The misty bluish orbs on his face danced from my eyes, to my lips. Eyes, to lips. Eyes, to lips. His left hand eased back a fly away strand of hair that was sticking to the apple balm on my mouth, then he coated his own lips before they finally reached their desired destination.

They were every bit as perfect, and downy as I knew they’d be. Instantly, my first reaction was to melt to doughy-like putty when his large arms slowly began to cloak my small form. I was nearly high from the sheer bliss, and my entire body appeared to lose feeling. Yet, it seemed feel everything in the air at the very same time. Limbs immobilized, along with my mouth, which was doing little to sustain its role in what was transpiring between us. I pinched my thigh between two fingers to awaken myself, & suddenly my body caught up with my mind. I reached my arm up to caress the back of his thick neck as he began to deepen the kiss, grazing my fingers through the baby hairs that laid sweat slicked there.

We just jogged 4 miles, how does he smell so good?

I could vaguely taste drops of salty sweat leftover from our morning adventure. His hands wandered over my hips to the small of my back, squeezing almost as if he didn’t realize his own strength. A glossy tongue tickled my lips gently requesting entrance. All too eagerly I obliged & opened my mouth to welcome him in with lazy a mewl of need. Our tongues danced to an unfamiliar rhythm in efforts to learn how the other moved. I could feel the build between my thighs becoming irrefutable, causing the stickler in me to pull away abruptly. I accepted this night would likely end with a forbidden visit from my battery-operated friend stored in my bedside table.

“Woah, Ritter. Let’s take a breather, yeah? Didn’t see that coming.”

His face still dangerous, minimal inches from mine he spoke. “Honest? I been plannin’ that one since the second I laid eyes on ya’, kid.” He winked & bit his pillowy bottom lip, nearly sending me choked over the edge of heated exile.

I dipped my head feeling the flush rise up my neck. Colton Ritter was pushing all the right buttons & he knew it. “How about that coffee now? Although, I’d say it’s plenty warm in here at this point...” I grinned.

I escorted him to the kitchen, seemingly walking with the legs of a clumsy fawn, and served him a dark cup of caffeine. He asked about some of the pictures he’d noticed throughout the house, & I told a few old basketball tales from my “glory days.”

“What would you say to gettin’ together again sometime, Liv? Someplace other than The Grind, & no damn sweats allowed. For either of us.”

I patiently held off on answering, giving my best effort to play it off calmly. “I think I could manage that just fine. I might even enjoy it, too.”

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935

#Tom Hardy #tomhardy #tomhardyfanfic #tom hardy fanfiction #tommy conlon #tommy conlon fanfic #elizabeth olsen #thegrind #tomhardyfan

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lxme-xss-imxgines · 5 years

Text

lost & found // BTS

Prompt: mafia/gang finds your wallet n sees ur broke as hell

Pairing: BTS x reader, turning into ot7 fic

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: swearing and suggestiveness(?)

A/n: hope y’all like this:)

Intro Part One Part Two Part Three

Lisa stands next to you, staring at the box in disbelief.

“I mean, money was one thing,” she mutters. “But clothes? Specifically for you, even. I think I’m gonna count myself out and say you have some sort of secret admirers. Plural.”

You roll your eyes at her as she takes a seat on the couch,”Not even the weirdest part. They’re all in my size. How would they know that?”

She shrugs,”You know what they say-”

“I know, I know. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I suppose . . . it just weirds me out that someone would spend so much money on me. And for no reason,” you cross your arms, staring at the items splayed on the table.

“Not to call us out or anything, but we’re not very well endowed with money. And after all, the first thing that they returned was your wallet with a wad of cash.”

For some reason, something clicks when Lisa says this. Suddenly you feel stupid, like you should have connected the dots sooner.

“I left my wallet on the table at the cafe, Lis,” she just nods, waiting for you to continue. “I left it there and you know who the only ones to walk in after us were?”

Lisa’s eyes widen with realization, understanding where you were going with this,”Those mysterious men. You don’t think-”

“I don’t know. Would that be crazy?” by now you’re pacing, trying to decide whether or not this whole situation is plausible. I mean, it makes sense, right?

“Maybe - “

“We should just ignore it?”

Lisa is silent after your suggestion. She then looks at you, letting out a small sigh,”I mean, it’s not really causing harm is it? Even if it is them? And who knows, maybe they were just sending one last gift. I wouldn’t think on it too much, hun.”

You nod, agreeing with her in a sense. What’s the harm from a wad of cash and some clothes, right? No reason to stress over some gifts.

However, this soon became a problem you couldn’t ignore.

It was nice at first - cash every once in awhile, clothes (even some for Lisa, which she was very excited about), and that was all nice.

And then it got slightly more obnoxious by the week.

The packages had progressed from small boxes with cash or clothes to nice furniture and even appliances. They even got you the most recent Macbook to help with your college classes, replacing the one you’ve had for years.

You felt odd, because any other person wouldn’t mind the showering of gifts for no other reason than your financial situation, but you couldn’t help feel a pang of guilt upon receiving each of these gifts.

The anonymous sender doesn’t know anything about you and had no reason to be so giving. You suddenly felt as if you only had one option - to contact them.

Of course, you don’t think you could very well contact them without information, even with your suspicion of their identities.

What’s the best way to find someone? The internet, of course.

You almost want to laugh at yourself, using the laptop you were given to try and for sure detect who this generous person - or people - may be.

So, you type the first thing that comes into your head - ‘BTS Seoul’

Your jaw almost drops to the floor at the results.

Things such as:

Wanted

Gang

Murders

True identities unknown

Police close cold case of nightclub shooting

No leads on notorious “Bangtan Boys (BTS)

However, none of those is what alarms you the most. Giving into your curiosity, you click over to the images and feel your heart leap out of your chest.

The picture was slightly blurry, but it was him.

It was a picture of the man you saw entering the cafe that night.

“They’ve only been coming for a month, and the owner told me that they’re allowed in no matter the time or circumstance. Luckily, they usually show up around the same time so I know when they’re going to be there”

You can feel the air leave your lungs, and your eyes flick up to the time and day on your laptop.

Wednesday 10:38

The same day and almost exact same time as when they showed up before.

You stand up immediately, rushing to slip on your shoes and jacket, and you’re outside of your apartment in under a minute.

Lisa is going to let a bunch of gang members into our local cafe. Very generous gang members, but gang members nonetheless.

You needed to get to there. Now.

For her sake and yours.

***

The entire ten minute walk - more like jog - to the cafe you felt your adrenaline rising more. You turn a corner and the cafe and suddenly in your sight, but you’re too late.

Their car is parked outside. And you didn’t run into Lisa on the way there, so that means she’s still there.

When you reach the building, you don’t think, you just act. You pull the door open, skidding to a halt when you see the scene before you.

The seven of them were around the largest table, each with a cup of some sort of drink in front of them - and they were all laughing. Not that you had expected them to have their guns out on the table and someone tied up to a chair or anything, but you especially didn’t expect Lisa to be serving them and laughing along.

You suddenly wish you could turn and walk away, but the bell attached to the door already let out a small noise, alerting everyone of your presence.

Anxiety fills from your toes to the top of your head when all eight people present turn to look at you, the laughter dying down quite suddenly.

You feel that your mouth is dry, so it comes out wrong when you try to speak,”Lisa, I need to talk to you.” You walk into the back of the cafe quickly, Lisa following you after muttering a small apology to the men. The gang.

“Y/n, what are you doing here? It’s kind of late-”

“Do they know, Lis? Did you tell them that I think it’s them?” your words come out with a frantic edge, taking Lisa aback slightly.

“No, I haven’t told them anything. What makes you think that?” you just shake your head, sighing of relief. She steps closer,”What is going on?”

“I was trying to figure out more about them, because I was feeling guilty and wanted to see if i could contact them, to thank them,” you swallow. “They are a gang, Lis.”

She just stares at you for a second, before letting out a little giggle. You stare at her in disbelief. Does she really not believe me?

“You think that those guys in there are in a gang?” now her laugh is slightly fuller,”They are completely harmless. And handsome, might I add.”

“Do you think I’m joking?” you roll your eyes. “Fine, I’ll prove it,” before she can protest, you make your way back out to the front.

You’re almost startled by their complete silence and stone-like expressions. You swallow, approaching their table quietly. As if sensing your presence, they all turn to face you.

Ah fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You open your mouth to speak, but are cut off by one of the men.

“Took you long enough,” one with dark hair and an unamused stare begins to speak. “We were beginning to think we weren’t ever going to meet.”

You’re taken aback by his crude comment,”Excuse me?”

Another one with dimples and purple hair begins to speak,”I’m sorry, what Yoongi means is that we’ve been hoping you would make contact with us.”

You’re at a loss for words and have so many questions at the same time. You’re so caught up in the conversation you didn’t even notice Lisa’s inherent shock at the possible truth.

“Why?” is the only word you can muster. “Why me? And don’t say because you pity my financial situation. I have a feeling a gang doesn’t just up and start being generous to random college students. Especially in the way you have.”

A few smirks break out, along with some shocked expressions at your bluntness.

“Well,” purple hair starts again,”Truth is . . . “

“We want you. Simple as that,” a rather pretty one begins speaking,”I’m Jimin, by the way.” he sends you a wink along with a smile, and you can feel heat rise into your cheeks.

“O-oh, I, um-”

“It’s okay to be nervous, or even a little scared. Just know we wouldn’t hurt you. Ever,” another one speaks and you nod at him in response; his soft eyes have an odd calming effect on you.

“You don’t even know me,” you protest, completely forgetting about their inherent gang status at the moment. “But yet you want me? All of you?” the true meaning of that phrase suddenly crosses your mind, and you wonder how that would even work. One for each day of the week? You hold back a snort at your own thought.

“I think we both know that knowing each other isn’t a concern,” Yoongi, you presume, begins. “And if you don’t understand that, you will. You’re ours.”

His words send shivers down your spine.

“Hyung, could you please stop being so forward? You’re going to scare her,” a dirty blonde headed man protests, staring at him with annoyance.

“There’s no point in lying, Taehyung. She was ours the first day she made eye contact with me.”

“Are you going to continue bragging about that one time, Jungkook? Or will we actually-”

A small ringing noise reverberates through the air, pulling everyone’s attention to the door - only for them to see you have exited.

“Good going, Yoongi,” Taehyung rolls his eyes, slouching back into his seat.

“Wait,” Lisa suddenly speaks, and they all turn toward her,”So you guys are actually a gang?”

The boys just sigh and chuckle lowly.

#BTS #BTS x reader #ot7 x reader #ot7 #yoongi #jin #jimin #jungkook #namjoon #hoseok #taehyung #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #hoseok x reader #jin x reader #jimin x reader

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louiisemikaela-blog · 5 years

Text

Dear New Beginnings,

The hardest thing in life is changes and beginnings. Life is just as astonishing and thrilling as a roller coaster ride. In this life, change and beginnings might be nerve-wracking or exciting for some, but one truth is inevitable- it will always come.

It was my first day as a college student at Philippine Normal University so I had to feel mixed emotions again. There are excitement, nervousness, anticipation and joy. If you feel these at the same time, it can fill your stomach with hundreds of butterflies.

I heard so many stories from my older friends about how college life would be difficult and at the same time liberating in spirit. All the paperworks, the performances, requirements and deadlines can be stressful if you don’t prioritize or manage your time evenly.

Relaxation might be hard to find in college life but camaraderie isn’t. It will actually make you survive the process. The friends that told me this actually got to graduate with their degrees and friendships.

Since it was my first day, I know it would be a little difficult for me to handle this new environment. I made one friend before and I’m thankful for her for keeping my company. But belonging to a class means there are people who I will be with for the rest of the year which will help me and my new friend to surpass the coming journey. But how are we supposed to know each other if this is our first time to see each faces?

Fortunately, a game about getting to know everyone in the class was given to us. Our Understanding the Self professor, Dr. Hibanada, challenged us to search for our commonalities within 20 minutes. We must achieve atleast 30 persons to obtain a prize.

Before doing the game, I told myself “it’s okay not to win. These good people are what matters. Knowing them is what matters.” And so I did just run through everyone of them. I did my best to smile and find our commom interests, hobbies, personal information. I found some Marvel fans, those who love music, some loves to watch movies, read on user-generated sites and few who loves my favorite series, Game of Thrones.

I was pretty indulged in my adrenaline because of the excitement this game brings. I actually realized we are in a challenge of knowing 30 people that I counted the names on the list when time is almost over.

I did not desire to win the challenge. I desired to win myself. I wasn’t this composed and super silent before college. I would make friends immediately but maybe this is because I am preoccupied of personal matters by now. But seeing these kind of people, these who are fun, open and exciting to be with, I know I could make my way out and again be someone who is confident enough to express myself.

So as I end this post, let me write:

Dear New Beginnings,

Thank you for teaching me to always expect there are a lot to learn from this world. I may be sometimes frightened by you, but you will always be the most beautiful fear I could have. For you have shown me always that beginnings are as important as the end.

Love, Louise.

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lord-of-shadows · 5 years

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A New Life (Kitty Reunion Ch. 3)

chapter 3 is here! check it out on AO3 or read under the cut. this one takes place three years later, and it mainly revolves around kit’s love for cordelia and some wholesome family moments :) words: ~2k. read ch. 1 and ch. 2. enjoy!!

CHAPTER THREE

The cold wind was blowing in Kit’s face as he held Cordelia in his arms, walking up the familiar path to their quaint home at the top of the hill.

He and Cordelia had just gotten back from Kit’s friend’s house, who also had a little sister two years older than Cordelia, but Kit deemed Cordelia (who was two) old enough to play with her. Kit met Trisha the summer after his sister was born when he was out on an emergency store run late at night (Tessa had run out of diapers for Cordelia, and unlike Magnus, she refused to magically steal more). As he exited the gas station, Kit noticed a night-clad figure following the mundane girl, and he instantly glamoured himself. Before the mysterious man could make a move on the girl, Kit had knocked him out—he admitted, he may have used too much force for a mundane, but it had been so long since he last experienced fighting crime; he had a love-hate relationship with how it always sent a feeling of adrenaline and exhilaration through his bones. The girl thanked him, but true to Devon’s residents, she immediately began to question him as to why she has never seen him before (everyone knew each other and their dog in this town). Then, after realizing that Kit was new and didn’t know that many people, she invited him to hang out with her friends that weekend, which Kit, at first, did not know how to react, but Jem and Tessa encouraged him to make new friends, and so he did, and after that, he became close friends with the other Devon residents around his age.

Kit realized that despite knowing a lot about his new friends, they didn’t know much about him, except the little story he curated: He was from America—Los Angeles, to be in fact (to which they always ask him about Hollywood and celebrities), and his parents had died in a car crash a few years ago (true that his parents died, but he couldn’t necessarily tell them it was because of faeries and demons), and so his British aunt and uncle adopted him (this was believable, since Tessa and Jem did have London accents, and they didn’t legally adopt Kit, but it was close enough), and now they ended up here, in the small town of Devon.

They always extended their condolences, but Kit found that the memory of his father didn’t hurt as much like before, and even though Tessa and Jem told him the truth about his mother, he used his grief to fuel his training, although he still couldn’t access that electric white light he unleashed while fighting the Riders of Mannan. The power had vanished as quickly as it appeared, and no matter the amount of training he did with Tessa or sometimes even Magnus, he couldn’t unlock it again.

Hopefully, he never had to. Though he was loathed to admit, it was pretty cool.

Cordelia was playing with his sleeve, babbling excitement about the Christmas lights Trisha’s family had already strung up on their house; even though Christmas was a mundane holiday, Tessa and Jem thought it would be a nice family tradition for them to partake in the gift-giving and spirit of it, and Kit recalled that Tessa had told him to return home early since they were planning to set up their decorations that day. It wasn’t like Kit could forget, with Cordelia mentioning it every two seconds.

Cordelia’s happiness filled Kit with child-like joy—he never did celebrate Christmas, his father deeming it a waste of time and believing there was no such thing as the spirit of Christmas since everyone in the Shadow Market was miserable anyway, but he was glad that Tessa and Jem found the holiday worthwhile. He wanted the best childhood for Cordelia, different than the one he had so that when she looked back as an adult, she would be filled with memories of fondness and love, not loneliness and death.

He entered the house, drawing an Open rune on the door, feeling the wards opening and closing all around him—and was met with Jem leaning against the counter and Tessa sitting on the couch, hunched over with a pen in her hand, small frowns on their faces, stress evident in their postures.

“I know Christmas decorating is no easy feat,” Kit said, a furrow between his eyebrows as he set down Cordelia on the floor, who proceeded to run straight to Jem. “But why the tense shoulders?”

Jem bent down to pick her up, the stress alleviating slightly, and let out a long sigh before sitting next to Tessa on the couch, and as Kit got closer, he realized she seemed to be focused on writing a letter to someone.

“Here,” Jem said, picking up a folded paper from the coffee table, handing it to Kit. “Read this.”

Kit sat in the armchair across from him, opened the letter, and began to read:

To Tessa Gray,

I apologize for reaching out to you on such short notice, but there has been strange activity concerning dark magic occurring around the ley lines here in Los Angeles. When Emma and Julian were on patrol yesterday, they noticed that a blight similar to the one a few years ago was taking over the land once again, but this time, it seemed to be spreading at a much faster rate than before. We have contacted the Unseelie King, and he claims it is affecting the Faerie lands as well. He tried to contact the Seelie Queen, but no response has yet been obtained. We contacted Magnus; there does not seem to be a warlock sickness again, but he says that a similar blight is appearing in New York too. We request your help immediately in investigating this issue, as we are not sure how much time we have left. We await your arrival.

Aline Penhallow, Head of Los Angeles Institute

“It’s happening again?" Kit said incredulously, glancing at Tessa. She was finished with her letter, folding it neatly before releasing it, the embers floating away with the unseen wind.

She nodded. “I have my suspicions on what may have occurred,” she said, her hand reaching up unconsciously to rub the sleeplessness from her eyes, “But it will be beneficial if I could see it myself.” She turned to Jem, who was looking at her with worried eyes. “The letter I sent was to Catarina Loss, to see if she has any insight on this occurrence, as she is more knowledgeable with this type of magic. I know she is teaching at the Scholomance though so she may not be able to help.”

At the mention of the Scholomance, Kit tensed, but Tessa and Jem did not seem to notice, caught in their own wordless conversation. He wondered if this is how he seemed like with Ty in the past.

Enough. It’s been three years, and yet, he still couldn’t stop thinking of him.

Dark magic, Aline had said in her letter. Kit shivered, his memory going back to that night in Alicante. He finally did tell the truth to Jem and Tessa about why he ran away but never told them what exactly he and Ty were doing—he knew there was no way they knew what happened, but sometimes, he felt that Tessa could easily see past through his lies.

Jem looked at him, concern still written on his face. “Christopher, Tessa and I have decided to leave to the Los Angeles Institute tomorrow. But don’t worry,” He added, seeing the panicked expression on Kit’s face, “We will not force you to come with us. The problem is we are not sure how long we will be gone so we will be bringing Cordelia. Helen and Aline can take care of her while we are away.” Kit knew Helen and Aline had adopted a faerie girl around Cordelia’s age from the excessive amount of photos Dru and Emma sent him—Nene, Kit believed they named her, after Helen and Mark’s faerie aunt—and something in the back of his mind thought it was a good idea for Cordelia to be around more kids her age, but Kit felt fear rise in him from being separated from his little sister. He could hear Tessa saying that it was okay if he wanted to stay since they trusted him well enough, and if anything did happen, he had the ability to summon them immediately with the little trinket they had given him.

“Also,” He heard Jem say quietly, “Tiberius will not be returning from the Scholomance until a few days before Christmas. I assure you, we will be back home by then.”

“I’ll go,” Kit decided, straightening in his chair. He could bear seeing Dru and Emma; besides, Emma made sure to visit them each May for Cordelia’s birthday, so it wouldn’t be much of a problem. Dru would be another hurdle, but Kit was sure he could handle it since they often texted each other and talked on the phone. But Ty? That was a whole other story—he hadn’t seen or communicated with the other boy in years. And yet, the thought of him still makes your heart race. Kit inhaled. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he saw the other boy again.

And he didn’t know if he wanted to find out.

“Great!” Tessa said, clapping her hands together. “Then it’s settled. We will leave tomorrow night so we can arrive in Los Angeles by the afternoon.” Right. Kit almost forgot about the ten-hour time zone difference. It was a pain when texting Emma and Dru. “I will go ahead and pack Cordelia’s things. You best get packing as well, Kit.”

“But Christmas lights?” Cordelia asked, thumb in her mouth, words sounding more like babbles, but Tessa managed to understand her anyway.

“How could I forget?” Tessa feigned shock. “How about you and Papa go set them up, and Kit and I will join you later?”

“Yay!” Cordelia cheered, crawling out of Jem’s embrace and grabbing his hand, Jem shooting Tessa a helpless—and panicked—smile before being whisked away outside.

Kit laughed silently, but his mind wasn’t paying attention to his sister’s antics, as it was currently consumed by thoughts of Los Angeles—he was going to be in the Institute’s winding halls again, going to witness the loud breakfasts and vibrant beaches and laugh with the others again—

Except Ty wasn’t going to be there, his mind added. He should feel grateful, and he was, but he could feel disappointment creep up in him, and he knew he couldn’t deny the truth, that he wanted to see Ty again.

Kit felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to find that Tessa had moved over to him, a caring look on her face as if she had a motherly instinct that something was wrong. Kit let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Christopher,” Tessa said gently, using his real name, one that she only reserved for when she was being serious with him. “I know this will be difficult to face. But trust me, they will be excited to see you again. You are missed.” She cupped his cheek, and Kit leaned into it, a warmth rushing over him—an extremely young memory of his own mother doing this to him flashed in his mind, of her holding Kit close and singing softly when he couldn’t sleep. His head hurt. “If at any point you feel overwhelmed, let me know, and I will send you back home.” Kit nodded. Suddenly, they heard a crashing noise—Tessa’s eyes widened as she pulled back, her fingers sparkling—before Jem opened the door, calling in the midst of Cordelia’s hysterical laughter: “Everything is okay! Just got—” Sounds of struggle could be heard. “Just got tangled in some lights—” The door shut abruptly, and Kit and Tessa looked at each other before bursting into laughter.

Her hand covered her mouth, and Kit’s cheeks began to hurt. “Oh, by the Angel. Forget packing. Go help Jem and Cordelia instead. It seems as if Christmas decorations are too much those poor souls.” Kit could hear Tessa mumble as she walked away, a smile evident in her voice, “Whatever will I do with them…”

He held back a laugh, shaking his head as he got up, pushing back thoughts of Los Angeles. He’ll worry about that when the time comes tomorrow. Right now, it seemed like there was trouble right in their front yard, chorused by Jem’s playful yells and Cordelia’s bubbly laughter. With a grin on his face, he joined the chaos outside.

#kit and ty #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #kitty #fanfiction #qoaad #qoaad spoilers #queen of air and darkness #the dark artifices #tda #the wicked powers #twp #kit x ty #tsc #fluff and angst #a new life #reunion #sorry for posting this late tumblr was being weird

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atc74 · 6 years

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Love Isn’t Fair

Written for: @mrswhozeewhatsis‘s 2018 Louden Swain FanFic FanArt Project

Pairing: Chuck x Reader (YOU), previous Dean x Reader, previous OFC x Reader (This really isn’t about the pairing - fair warning)

Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Angst

Word Count: 2586

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. THERE ARE MULTIPLE TRIGGERS.

Thank you to @mrswhozeewhatsis for her guidance and support throughout this process. Thank you for letting me be me.

I sat down on my bed, feet tucked under me. ‘This is stupid,’ I thought. I hadn’t written in a journal since I my freshman year in college. Then, it was fueled by too much drinking and melodrama, not an actual desire for understanding or closure. I’d even tried my hand at poetry a few times. But my therapist suggested that after everything I have been through, that it would be a good idea for me to ‘journal’ my thoughts, feelings, and what have you. She said writing can be cathartic. As a writer, I knew this to be true, but I had also never written to myself before. I had been given this assignment a while back, but the time hadn’t been right.

I thought back over the last several years, and what my life had been, and what it had become. I had been nervous about trying to date again, and about being a single parent while dating. I hadn’t had the greatest track record before my marriage, so I’d questioned what made me think I could do it with another human to think about? Someone that depended solely on me?

I had been born a hunter, raised by hunters to do nothing but hunt. I followed every order I was given. Every direction I was pointed in, I went. I knew there was something else out there for me, I just hadn’t discovered it, yet. I tried college for a while, but realized pretty quickly that wasn’t going to fill my soul, not knowing what I knew. I wandered aimlessly from hunt to hunt, motel to motel, state to state, across the country more times than I could count. I found love and lost love. More than once, it was violent or bloody, often both.

Recently, I had been lucky enough to meet Chuck, an amazing man that not only stole my heart, but my son’s as well. He wasn’t a hunter, but he knew enough about the hunting life that I didn’t have to hide my past from him or what I really knew. He even knew Dean Winchester and his brother, Sam. Chuck had welcomed my baggage with open arms and together we’d built a new life, a happy and healthy life. With a new chapter on the horizon, it was time to close the old one. With a deep breath, I opened the brand new journal to page one and picked up my pen.

Dear Diary~

I was nineteen when I swore I met the love of my life, Dean Winchester, another young hunter. We happened to both be working the same case; a shifter that was wreaking havoc in a small town in Northern Michigan. Once the monster was disposed of, we found other ways to fill our time. In my short life, I had never met anyone that made me feel the way Dean did. I was lost to him in every sense of the word.

My parents warned me that it wouldn’t last with a Winchester. But, young love knows no logic. It was fueled by passion and was fast paced. But Dean and I were a bit like fire and ice, oil and water; we looked good together, but were bad for each other. The sex kept getting better and better, but the hunting became dangerous the more we got wrapped up in each other. We became reckless.

When that fell apart, I was heartbroken, and my solution was to run into the arms of the next man that opened them. Eric was not a hunter, but a normal guy with a normal job and a life that consisted of watching every televised sport imaginable.

We tried hard - okay, I tried hard - to make myself normal, but when you are hiding what you really know, along with who you really are, it doesn’t build a lot of trust in a relationship. That one lasted three years, but the writing was on the wall long before that. I just didn’t see it until he didn’t invite me to his sister’s wedding just weeks before our demise. That stung a little. Oh, well. I moved on and was a better person for it. Eric didn’t really love me the way I needed him to love me and it was evident. After all, he never really loved the real me, did he? How could he, when he had never met me?

Remember, Dean Winchester, the love of my life? As luck would have it, I ran into him once more, five years later, on a werewolf hunt. After I stitched him and read him the riot act for jumping in front of me, it got hot and heavy. We were both more mature than we had been and we decided to try again, but it wasn’t meant to be. If it had truly been love, it would have lasted, yes? I still think about him to this day, especially on my birthday, as we shared one.

I took a few years off; I even swore off men for an entire year. I think it was healthy. I learned who I really was without a man and I have to say, I really liked that girl. She was fun, spunky, feisty, even. She discovered she should have been born a redhead and lived life to the fullest. The most important thing I think I learned was that I loved myself. I was enough for me and if someone didn’t like that or wanted to change me, then they weren’t worth my time. I continued to hunt, mostly on my own after discovering I really enjoyed just being me.

As I entered my late twenties, I tried to find that love, that feeling that consumed my soul, but also made me a better person. When I was twenty-eight, I met Bill, another hunter. He was full of life and liked to have a good time. We courted, and were married within thirteen months. We had good, dare I say great times. We were inseparable and shared many interests, one of which happen to be the hunt, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through our veins after a good fight and booze.

I think back and remember the passion, both good and bad, and I know he loved me. But now I have to think...did I love him, or did I love the idea of someone loving me that much? A wise woman told me when I was young, maybe nineteen or twenty years old, “Find a man that loves you more than you love him and you will never have to worry about whether or not he is faithful.” I thought I had found “the one.” It turns out, how much he loved me didn’t matter if he loved something else more.

Relationships are hard. Relationships with baggage (his, not mine) are harder. He came with a daughter. A beautiful, blonde-haired, blue-eyed little girl that we spent as much time with as we could when we were not hunting. Things were really good for a few years. A few months after our third anniversary, I found out I was pregnant. I had always wanted to be a mother, but I was terrified. Bill wasn’t very supportive at first when I told him. His daughter was almost nine and the first words out of his mouth were, “I was nine years from freedom.” Wow.

The following April I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, while he drank beer in my hospital room; he even brought his own cooler. I was too drugged up and happy about the birth of my son to see the red flag. We had also decided to settle down and bought a house at the same time, so I was home with our brand new baby and he was out hunting. I left the life on the road when I got pregnant and strictly did research for him. But each time Bill came home, I noticed the drinking increased dramatically. I chalked it up to stress: new baby, new house, same jobs, less money, more expenses. Only, it didn’t really slow down.

I remember one day in particular, because it was his birthday. Bill was fit to be tied because we had plans. A friend’s wedding and his birthday all fell on the same day. He had begun drinking when he woke up and was irate because I had made plans on his birthday. He started screaming and calling me names. His daughter was visiting for the weekend and now both she and the baby were crying. He picked up a laundry basket and launched it across the room where it hit a lamp, shattering the glass shade and bulb all around the living room.

I directed his daughter to take the baby and hide upstairs in her bedroom. Bill came up the stairs and carried me back down with his elbow locked around my neck, until we landed in the kitchen, where he threw a chair at me. Luckily he missed because he was too drunk to see straight. Like a lot of other women, I didn’t call the police; we’re hunters. I called his friend, a fellow hunter, and he came right over and as soon as Bill saw him, he was right as rain and happy as a damn clam. I will never forget the fear in his daughter’s eyes, or the screams from the mouth of my fourteen-month old son. Minutes later, it was like nothing had ever happened.

Years go by, and the drinking not only continued, but it escalated. We had a few neighbors over here and there, but soon, even they stopped hanging out with us. I had isolated my family because of him and stopped enjoying so many things I had loved before him. I became withdrawn and turned into a shadow of my former self. I gained weight. In short, I was miserable.

First Corinthians chapter thirteen says: “Love is patient; love is kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things....faith, hope, love, but the greatest of these is love.”

But the thing is, it wasn’t. Not anymore. Love was no longer enough. The love I had for him turned into resentment and disgust. I found a creative outlet for that anger and I started writing. I made new friends and suddenly, my world was larger than I ever thought possible. I became brave. I stood up for myself. Instead of the timid woman I had become, I rediscovered the girl I once was. Gone was the mousy brown hair that I hid behind. I emerged from the cocoon, a redhead once again and I began to find my way back.

I distanced myself from Bill and started doing things on my own again. I stepped out of my comfort zone. I lost weight and gained new confidence. The old me, the fun me was back; but she was still a mom. And I vowed never to lose myself again.

Somewhere along the way, our vows went astray. The affair he had with alcohol was not a sin of the flesh, it was a sin of the heart; one that was too important for him to give up for his family. I felt betrayed. I can’t stand what he put me through; what he put our son through. There were too many lies, years and mountains of broken deals. All I asked for was honesty and even that was too much.

He left on another hunt and I filed for divorce after a very long and tiring winter. I know I will have to atone for my sins as well, as small as they are. I gave up on us, gave up on him after fifteen years. It may not sound like my sins are real, but I never thought I would be that woman who leaves her husband. But the moment he put our son in jeopardy was the day I decided enough was enough; my heart was in despair and there was no coming back from that if I didn’t do something. I was already there, and I needed to crawl back out.

Chuck, the true love of my life, I actually met by accident. I walked into my neighborhood tattoo parlor one day and there he was. He inked me with my first post-separation tattoos. He didn’t comment on the quotes I had chosen. We talked and he instantly won me over with his odd charm, sparkling blue eyes and salt and pepper beard that hid a mischievous smile. We developed a strong friendship that led to a stronger relationship with a solid bond of trust and love. Chuck taught me a lot about myself, too.

I learned that it was okay to close my eyes and let go of the hurt inside. I have the faith that the hurt will fade and I will be stronger and better for it.

“...faith, hope, love, but the greatest of these is love.” For me, the greatest of these is faith.

~Y/N

I close the cover and lay my journal aside just as a knock sounds softly at my door and the same blue eyes I have been looking at in the mirror my entire life find mine. “Hey Mom? Can I come in?”

“Sure, Buddy. You want to watch a movie?” I asked as he snuggled up to my side. He isn’t small, but he always fits perfectly right there.

“Sure. Can we watch The Avengers?” He looked up at me from under a blond mess of shaggy bangs. “And can we have apples and peanut butter?”

“Yes we can, Bud. You start the movie, I’ll be right back with the snacks.” I rose from my seat.

“Hey Mom?” he called out for me.

“Yeah Bud?” I turned back to him from the top of the stairs. .

“I love you.” He smiled and blew me a kiss. I caught it with one hand and put it in my pocket for later.

As I sliced up an apple, I thought ahead to the following weekend and what was waiting for me... for us. The man that had fallen in love with us had asked us to marry him. We would be wed in just a few days time. A new love; a new beginning.

Faith, hope love...I know that Chuck loves me, loves us. I have faith that this will be the forever love that I had been searching for. And hope for a wonderful and long future together. But there is so much more. Maybe the greatest of these is love. It is the unconditional love of a child that has seen more than he ever should have had to see in his short life. It’s the hope that I have for him that he won’t repeat the cycle. It’s the faith I have that no matter how many hard days there are, it’s moments like this that show me I made the right choice, not just for me, but for him. So maybe love isn’t fair, but this? This is the greatest love of my life and I will take that every day of the week and twice on Sunday.

Author’s footnote: This is based on my personal experience, all of the incidents in this fic happened to me. This was the hardest thing I have ever written. When I found Supernatural three years, I started to find myself again. The friends [family :)] I have made here have helped give me the strength I needed again.

Two weeks before the divorce papers were served, I got the two tattoos that I have been waiting for. I found strength in a little band with a funny name, deep lyrics and a strong, charismatic front man.

The road is long and will be hard to navigate at times, but I know with the support of my friends and family, I am on the right path. I am the captain of my story. I close my eyes and let go of the hurt inside. I have the faith that the hurt will fade and I will be stronger and better for it.

To my readers: Please, please, if you find yourself in a similar situation, please seek assistance, call the police, get out.

To Rob, Billy, Stephen and Mike - thank you for the beautiful music you create. It does more than you know.

The Whole Enchilada - join the fiesta: @sis-tafics @holyfuckloueh @gh0stgurl @hobby27 @bethbabybaby @anspgene @paintrider13-blog @cyrilconnelly @chelsea072498 @just-another-busy-fangirl @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @d-s-winchester @roxyspearing @heyitscam99 @iwantthedean @jpadjackles @mogaruke @smoothdogsgirl @x-waywardaf-x @myoutletforfanfiction @growningupgeek @spnbaby-67 @wonderange @emoryhemsworth @crispychrissy @impalaimagining @feelmyroarrrr @docharleythegeekqueen @katymacsupernatural @hennessy0274-blog @esoltis280 @shaelyn102 @rockhoochie @charliebradbury1104 @pinknerdpanda @hannahindie @wingedcatninja @highfunctioning-sociopath @speakinvain @evansrogerskitten @percussiongirl2017 @blacktithe7 @winchesterprincessbride @theoriginalvicki @mrswhozeewhatsis @sweetpeamoose @mamaredd123 @sandlee44 @mottergirl99 @meeshw777 @squirrel-moose-winchester @milkymilky-cocopuff @meganwinchester1999 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @grace-for-sale @4401lnc @countrygal17a @tina8009 @andkatiethings @nanie5 @jbbarnesgirl @monkeymcpoopoo

The Dean’s List: @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @supernatural-jackles @trunk-full-of-ideas @kayteonline @ruprecht0420 @kathaswings @bringmesomepie56 @deandoesthingstome @starry-chaos @dean-winchesters-bacon @pisces-cutie

Chuck’s List: @natasha-cole @ellen-reincarnated1967 @a-queen-and-her-throne @shanghai88

#2018 Louden Swain FanFic FanArt Project #chuck shurley #Chuck x Reader #Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic

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