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pedrisbanana · 2 years ago

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Maybe a fic about y/n being a footballer for fcb? And her and Pedri share the same number and have a lot in common? ( I’m pretty sure his teammates would tease him and ship them to get him mad (even tho Pedri likes it) btw I love your fics!! 💓

Sometimes destiny likes to watch football...

Enjoy 🍌

The Only Number 8

It all started during the international break. Due to the lack of players staying in Barcelona for the two week break, it was decided that the women's and men's first teams train together.

You were one of the last to arrive at the training grounds and you immediately joined the small group for their warm up run. Being on friendly terms with most of the players from the first team, you set a pace were you could chat with Ferran Torres and Pablo Torre.

"Did you steal Pedri's clothes? You look exactly like him, just with better looks." Ferran commented, eyeing your outfit.

You laughed. "You forgot that I'm a better midfielder as well. It's not my fault were both under contract at Adidas-"

Ferran gave you a look. "Adidas, Plátano de Canarias, Springfield, let alone the fact that you both wear the number 8"

"You two should make some cute Barcelona babies for the next generation of great midfielders" Pablo teased.

"Pfft, not all of us want to support nepotism, please and thank you." You scoffed.

The brunette waved your comment about his family off and increased his pace.

"I don't even know Pedri. The only time I talked to him was that mandatory congratulation ceremony they held for Alexia and Gavi the other day."

Ferran pushed you playfully. "We're just teasing you, okay. Relax."

After the warm up, Xavi, who lead the training today, announced that you would partner up for exercises, so that both teams could improve by learning from each other.

He started to read the list and of course he teamed you up with FC Barcelona's starboy. Earning laughter from both Ferran and Pablo, you shook your head.

Pedri was making his way over to you. His hair was tousled from the slight breeze on this rather windy day.

The royal blue of his shirt and matching shorts complimented his tan in a way that made it hard not to look at him. You weren't so sure anymore who of you has got the better looks, because Pedri set the bar quite high.

A small smile crept upon his lips as he was approaching you. He scratched his chin where a shadow of stubble defined his jawline. He must've decided not to shave this morning.

"Hi, you must be Y/N. I'm Pedri."

He was slightly taller than you, so he had to tilt his head down a little bit. From the quick movements of his eyes you took that he scanned your face, maybe waiting for your reaction.

"Es bueno conocerte a la fin" his canary spanish dialect was melodic, soothing almost. He extended his hand.

His touch burned like fire, making your whole body shiver. Trapping your small hand with a firm grip, his thumb slightly brushed over the skin between your thumb and your index finger, causing you to let go of the breath you didn't realize you held until now.

"Yes... I mean thank you.. umm you too I guess ?" You couldn't remember the last time you embarrassed yourself like this. You could only hope he didn't notice the effect he had on you, but he would have to be blind not to.

Luckily Xavi interrupted your rather uncomfortable conversation to instruct the first exercise.

It's been a week since you've officially met the real number 8 of Barcelona and a week since you couldn't get him out of your head. The others didn't really help. They'd been teasing you and Pedri whenever they had the chance to, your only satisfaction being the slight blush that also crept upon Pedri's cheeks.

Every training, Xavi paired you up with Pedri. It turned into some sort of silent competition on who was the better number 8.

You two didn't talk about it. You weren't friends, just colleagues and you only had 3 days left of the break, then you would never see him again anyway.

Much to your luck, it was announced that there would be a special charity match. The women's team against the men's team and as if it couldn't be much worse, Pedri and you were chosen for the press conference.

So now you stood here, dressed in lilac nike shorts and the matching shirt (both having a stitched on 8) and waited to be called in. You tightened your high ponytail and tried to look relaxed.

Why were you even so nervous ?

A pull on your hair startled you. "Ow, what the he-"

It was Pedri. He moved to stand in front of you, smirking.

"Can't wait to kick your ass on the field on sunday."

You scoffed. "Oh, like I kicked yours in training all week ?"

Pedri leaned back against the door to some attic next to the entrance of the media room. He crossed his arms, which made his biceps bulk up. Nike really needs to stop offering these armless tops.

"I was holding back. You wouldn't be able to keep your balance if I really tackled you." he eyed you up and down, making you straighten your posture.

"Pff. We'll see who's the better 8 then." you replied, stepping closer. "I won't be the one on my knees begging for a freekick."

His smirk widened, looking at your lips, then into your eyes. Your lips parted, mouth dry from the sudden closeness. You could feel his breath on your face, sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh I'll personally make sure that you'll be on your knees." His eyes flickered behind you, obviously annoyed that he was interrupted by the media representative.

"Pedri. Y/N. We're starting."

Giving a quick nod to him, you wanted to go ahead, but Pedri stopped you. His hand cupped your cheek. The pads of his fingertips were rough against the soft skin of your face. The touch burned and pleasure shot straight in between your thighs.

"Begging you'll be too. Not only for a freekick, te lo prometo"

He followed the media representative into the room. After collecting yourself, you followed as well. Journalists were already seated in rows in front of the large podium.

Stepping up onto the small stage, Pedri smiled and held out the chair for you. Obviously to trick the journalists into thinking he's a gentleman. You smiled back and thanked him.

When the media representative gave his small instruction, you tried to calm and crossed your legs. Big mistake.

The earlier conversation with Pedri had left you more aroused that you expected. Your panties were completely soaked.

Smiling at the crowd you, leaned forward, trying to concentrate on the first question. A middle aged woman with blonde hair introduced herself and asked Pedri about him missing nations league qualifiers.

You rolled your eyes. It had been all over the news for the past weeks. The brunette midfielder hadn't been nominated for the national team. What a scandal !

As Pedri gave his answer, you felt a burning touch on your knee.

Pedri. Or better his hand.

That bastard sneaked his hand up your exposed thigh. He pushed at your leg, making you uncross them. Neither his facial expression or tone changed.

He nodded to the woman and waited for the next question, all while pushing your legs further apart to make room for his hand.

He wasn't going to-

His fingers sneaked into your shorts, pushing your panties to the side, interrupting your thought.

Oh fuck. He was going to.

He shot you a surprised, but smug look when he felt that you were dripping wet. You caught his wrist, holding it in place to keep him from moving any further.

The next question was addressed to you. How you felt about playing against the first team.

"Oh-" you swallowed. It came out as a moan, because Pedri managed to loosen your grip on his wrist and started to explore your slick folds with his long fingers.

He cleared his throat. A message to you.

Concentrate or I'll embarrass you in front of everyone.

So he wasn't joking.

"I think it's a great opportunity to show our abilities-" you paused.

Pedri's finger found your entrance, slowly pushing in. You clenched around him.

"-abilities and that women's football can be just as exciting as men's. We hope we can pick up some new fans."

You forced a smile. Pedri added another finger. He pushed them in and out teasingly slow. Your clit was pulsing for friction.

"Are you okay, Y/N ?" he asked and faked a concerned look on his face, as if he wasn't fingering you under the table.

He really enjoyed this.

"I'm just a little-" your breath hitched.

A third finger. Knuckle deep and curling inside of you.

"-nervous."

"No need to be. We're all here to support you and no one wants to make you uncomfortable."

Every word that came from his mouth pushed your urge to come for his throat.

You pushed your thighs together to create some friction on your bundle of nerves, but it only made Pedri slide his fingers in deeper.

Luckily the journalists didn't want to startle you any further and only asked Pedri some questions. He answered them with quick sentences, like the well-behaved professional he was.

Meanwhile you tried not to moan out loud. He was very skilled with his fingers, twisting and curling them inside of you, spurring you on. If only he wasn't avoiding the spot that needed the most attention.

You bit your lip before you could whimper out his name. The teasing idiot retracted his fingers and hand from your lap. The digits were glistening from your arousal. You expected him to wipe them on his shirt, but he didn't.

Instead, his other hand reached for one of the Gatorade bottles on display and opened it just as skilled as you knew he was with his other hand. You were hypnotized by his movements.

What was he up to now ?

Squeezing the bottle just the right amount, a little bit of liquid spilled, coating the table and the hand that had been inside of you mere seconds ago. He laughed, looking at the crowd. They joined in.

"I'm sorry." It was a genuine laugh, but you knew this show was for specifically for you.

Your lips parted as Pedri took each of the three fingers coated in your wetness and lemon - lime Gatorade, one after another, between his lips and sucked them clean.

You swallowed, not daring to breathe. He stopped at his index finger.

"Did they change the recipe ? It tastes better than before." he turned to look at you.

Extending his hand to you, he raised his eyebrow. "Don't you think ?"

Was he really offering you to suck on his finger right now ? In front of the press ?

Sure. Everyone knew that the lemon - lime flavor was another similarity between you two. It was the best one.

You contemplated the choices in your head. If you declined, you'd turn tables and embarrass him. If you didn't, you and Pedri would be all over the news tomorrow.

Smiling to yourself, you grabbed his wrist and brought his hand up to your lips. Locking eyes with him, you guided his index finger into your mouth. Just the tip. You didn't want to give a whole show, being in public after all.

Your tongue darted out to lick your lips, letting go of him. The sour taste mixed with the sweetness of your own arousal spread on your tastebuds.

"You're right. It's better now."

Pedri flushed, making you smile in victory.

The media representative closed the press conference and stood up to lead the two of you out the room. As the midfielder stood up, your smile dropped.

He was so hard in his sweatpants, it looked painful.

His dark blue Nike tech fleece pants were showing a very prominent bulge, but with a confidence like he had, he of course didn't seem to care and stood up.

Pedri waited for you to go ahead and you urgently prayed that there wasn't a dark spot on your lilac shorts.

No one seemed to notice the little action that happened between you and him.

Feeling relieved that you survived it, Pedri suddenly pushed you into the little attic next to the media room with him.

His lips captured yours into a feverish kiss, leaving you breathless. Once again, his hands found the spot between your thighs, this time pushing your shorts and underwear down first, baring you to him.

You moaned his name into the kiss and he broke it. Lips wandering from your cheek to your neck, he pulled you closer. His erection pressed against your thigh and you cupped it, making him hiss.

Pulling away, he helped you undress him, sweatpants and briefs falling to his ankles. His dick was swollen and the tip red. Precum leaked and you caught a drop, spreading it with your thumb, massaging him.

He dropped his forehead to yours. His pupils were blown wide and he looked helpless from pleasure. Neither of you talked. You didn't need words. Maybe you were linked by faith or something after all.

Holding onto your hips, he thrust forward. Slowly, guided him inside of you. His length was stretching you even more than his fingers. He felt heavenly. You dropped your head back inviting his lips to explore your throat.

His thrusts were needy and sloppy, but they massaged just the right spot inside of you over and over again. With your hands tangling in his hair, you tried to meet him.

Your heart was thumping in your ears as he pushed your shirt up, exposing your cleavage. His hands were definitely going to leave bruises on your hips when they wandered down again. His thumb found your clit and you screamed out.

The whole teasing had you sensitive and aching for touch. You felt him whisper some Spanish against your breasts in between kisses, but you couldn't hear him.

You held onto him even tighter when you felt your orgasm building up. Only a few more thrusts and he had you over the edge. He looked up at you and stopped his actions, earning a disappointed whimper from you.

"If you want to come, beg me." The same smug expression from earlier crept upon his flushed, sweaty, beautiful face. You wanted to slap him.

"Pedri-" you tried to move your hips.

His lips were kissing your chin and jawline. "I'll pull out."

He started to withdraw, which made you pull at his shirt.

"No, please. Pedri. Make me come. Please." you whispered into the thick air.

You looked at him. He stopped, waiting.

"Please Pedri. I need you. I need you so badly. I need you to make me come. Please." The pleas came out of your mouth almost automatically and didn't stop when he picked up his thrusts again.

Your whole body was shaking and the blood rushed in your ears. All you could think was Pedri.

Pedri. Pedri. Pedri.

He pressed his face into your chest when he followed. His moans muffled by the soft flesh.

Being out of breath you held each other for a few seconds, enjoying the bliss.

Pedri pulled up your panties and shorts again, kissing your inner thigh softly.

"I'm still going to make you beg for that freekick, princesa"

A/N: I know y'all love when Pedri's acting like an asshole😌

This was really hard to write as a one part, so I hope it doesn't feel rushed.

I'm excited for your feedback 🥰

#pedri gonzalez #pedri fanfic #pedri smut #pedri x reader #pedri one shot

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walker-extended-universe · 7 months ago

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4x07 Review

The writer's threw us a bone and gave us a somewhat lighter episode this week, probably to make up for the angst coming at us in "Witt's End". That's not to say "Hold Me Now" is without its share of strife- the Walker family continues to deliver on the dramatics (and I wouldn't have them any other way).

Today, I'm going to shake things up a bit and focus more on specific characters rather than specific plots. That's just the way it's lining up in my head with how condensed the plotlines were this episode.

Let's start off with the shortest character line this episode: Abby and Bonham's Great Retirement Debate.

This one starts with Bonham complimenting Liam's PT. During this conversation, Bonham finds out that Ben and Abby are officially going into business together with their wedding planning at the ranch, something that catches Bonham by surprise. Abby can do as she pleases, but this is his ranch too and, as her husband, he should know more about what she's up to.

Later, after his and Stella's quick self defense lesson, he confronts Abby on her making that choice without him. After all, this is not his idea of what their retirement looks like. Abby rebuffs him and makes an odd comment about supporting her son's dreams and they get into a staring contest, leaving Stella in a very awkward situation.

I'm not gonna lie, this is one of my least favorite stories they've given us this season. I understand they need to give these characters something to do but this whole thing feels trite compared to what's going on in the rest of the show and it doesn't seem to fit their relationship much, especially with all the development they had. At least the other characters are having interesting reactions to it.

Moving on, let's look at what Stella was up to this episode.

We see that Stella finally recieved footage of the break-in at her dorm but there's not much to go on and campus police don't seem interested in doing anything (related too hard to that one). She's also getting more desperate texts from Witt about the necklace. When August once again points out that they should probably loop Cordell in, she again rejects it. At this point, they're in too deep and telling him would only land them in more trouble.

August makes another good point in telling her they need to play a little offense. Until they get the necklace, she's in danger. If she won't get protection from their dad, she needs to learn how to take better care of herself. This prompts her to go back home. While she was looking for Cordell, she finds Bonham and he's more than happy to give her some self-defense lessons. Let's hope that's enough.

Next, let's talk August.

This one starts off in the morning, with Cordell and August talking in the kitchen. August offers to do a make-up family dinner when Geri gets back from her trip and Cordell accepts, acknowledging that he may have been wrong about why he and Stella went AWOL. However, August is still stuck with a 5pm curfew.

This is also the day of his bootcamp graduation, which is the entire crew finishing an obstacle course. Everyone who finishes the course in under 8 minutes will be a step ahead at the military training. Durin ghte early practice run we see August is at the head of the pack and one student is struggling more than the others. Trey reminds them that it's never too late to help otu a struggling trooper as they all need to be able to rely on each other before they break to run it again.

We pick up here when it's time for the actual run. August runs the course very well, so well that he's on track to break a record. But, just as he's about to finish, we see him look behind to see the student who was struggling from earlier. After a moment of hesitation, he runs back to give the student advice and encourage him through the rest of the course. Both of them still finish on time and Trey looks on with pride.

Side note: Trey has officially made it up to August for lying to him about still being a guidance counselor way back at the end of season 2.

While everyone is celebrating, we see a brief flash of disappointment on August's face when he processes that Cordell wasn't there to witness it. He puts a smile back on when Trey comes over to congratulate him and ask if he's ready for bootcamp. For the first time, we see August hesitate a bit about his military career as he says he's not sure and that he has a lot of options. Whether this indecision is related to Cordell's absence is unclear but it's nice to see him considering other options for his life.

Up next (for better or for worse) is Cassie and her work/life dilemna.

We start with Cassie arriving at work- and Luna arriving right behind her. We also get her calling him by his first name, David. As they head to the conference room to get back to the case, we get a conversation about their potential relationship- or rather why Cassie doesn't really want to explore one publicly. Not only is she up for lieutenant, but after everything with Kevin she doesn't want to rush into another workplace relationship. Luna respects that but we still get some playful banter.

Side note: I'm glad to hear there are candidates from outside the office; I feel like that makes this all more suspenseful than if it was just Trey and Cassie.

Cordell immediately gets them all focused on the job, starting with running down the suspect lists to make sure they have up-to-date information. While this doesn't seem to lead them much of anywhere at first, Cordell points them at a potential lead which- unfortunately- doesn't lead much of anywhere. Cassie and Luna are both disappointed, but understanding. It wasn't that likely that a grainy security camera that caught a partial on a guy's face would grant them a concrete lead right away. However, they both notice that Cordell is taking this whole case very hard and won't listen to anyone who tells him to take it easy.

This only adds to how overwhelmed Cassie feels by the case. The Jackal is not going to be an easy killer to catch and now she's seen it wreack havoc on both rangers and civilians. She asks Luna for advice on how he keeps it all from getting to him and he has an idea: karaoke.

While Cassie is apprehensive of this idea at first, she's more than happy to try it out. And we the audience are treated to both of them singing in between them getting closer to each other. While it does seem like their relationship is moving a bit fast, I can't blame Cassie one bit for wanting to jump on that.

Side note: I refuse to believe anyone would cheat on Luna.

The next day, Cassie and Luna are more than willing to leave the office after James dismisses them from a good day's work. However, Cordell's reluctance to move on gives them pause. They listen to Cordell's questionable theory on the zookeeper and, when Cassie realizes he's not going going to let it go, she offers to go with him and Luna is right behind her.

The zoo search is short but intense and, surprisingly, they do find something. Whether this is related to the Jackal or not is still up in the air but it's enough to call in the cavalry and check it out. While this is all going on, James takes the time to let Cassie know he approves of her and Luna, even though it's none of his business. This gives Cassie the confidence she needs to hold Luna's hand at the crime scene, which is a very sweet moment.

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for: Let's talk about Cordell.

As we all predicted would happen the moment he picked up that notebook, Cordell is completely throwing himself into this case. It's clear he's taking his responsibility as leader seriously in James' stead and he's not going to let his old partner down again. He's not going to stop until this lunatic is off the streets, regardless of the consequences.

At least, that's the intensity he gives off at work while he struggles to make connections between their potential leads and what little they know about the Jackal. I noticed he relied heavily on James' personal notes during this episode, which I think speaks a lot to the trust between them. Even though Cordell knew this case made James a bit crazy, he's still trusting his old partner's judgement here.

While he's leading the game at work, he's letting things slide at home, missing out on family dinner in favor of eating cereal and reading James' notebook again. When Abby tries to confront him on this, he assures her that everything is fine. He just has work to do. She accepts that answer, but I doubt that will last very long.

After the disenheartening failure of their first lead, Cordell seems more determined than ever to find some kind of connection between the Jackal and their suspect list, diving down to a former zookeeper that doesn't really have any of the hallmarks they're looking for. He's so determined to find that connection that he's willing to risk missing August's bootcamp graduation to check out the old zoo, which just happens to be near the Jackal's first kill. Despite the stretch of the lead and the fact that this could wait a day, he insists on going right away and lets Cassie and Luna tag along.

Side note: I have to wonder if he really thought he could search a whole zoo and make it back in time for August.

As they search the zoo, Cordell finds footprints in the mud and soon finds a strange figure to hunt down. He gets close, but doesn't get their man, getting a concussion and a good look at his shoes instead. While it's more than they had before, he's not satisfied. He wants to catch the Jackal above all else, even at risk to his own life.

Later, he comes home with his work duffle to find Liam sitting at his dining table. And he's got a lot to say, starting with berating Cordell for missing August's event. This leads into him pointing out how he's been ignoring Stella's needs after the break in. He then goes as far as to compare this current case to the Rodeo Kings mission- Cordell leaving his kids behind for work and leaving Liam to pick up the pieces.

Cordell brushes him off, insisting that he- and his kids- are fine and Liam can back very far off. Liam leaves the house in a huff, leaving Cordell to go back to his Jackal Investigation Porch, where he drops the duffle bag. He puts on gloves and we see that the bag is full of evidence, including some rope. We then get a very odd sequence where Cordell wraps the wrist around his own wrist and gets flashes of images of similar rope going over a victim's wrists. Which leaves us with the very big question of: What the fuck?

And that wraps up this week's episode. As usual, I'm left with far more questions than answers. Why does this retirement plot with Abby and Bonham need to be dragged out so long? Why did they tease us with Liam being an addict and just drop it? Will August ever convince Stella to own up to everything? Why is Luna so perfect and does that mean he's the Jackal?

Hopefully we'll start getting more answers next week. See y'all then!

#walker #walker spoilers #walker review #s04e07 #hold me now

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colesluvr · 2 years ago

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i saw your navigation thing on my feed and like,, can i get just like a hc or scenario of male reader x zane where theyre like cooking together ??

possibly throwing in cute fluffy romance in there too if you’re mayhaps ok with that,,

anyways have a good day :)

Cooked With Love | Zane Julien x Male Reader

HELLO ANON!! ty for the req, Zane is such a great character and I love him so much!! LOOK AT THAT SMILE! anyway, I really hope this was okay for you, I really tried my best but even though Zane's such an amazing character I haven;y wrote for him in so long! I really hope he's not too out of character! ANYWAY PLZ ENJOY!! COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! 🫶

F/C = favorite color

F/S = favorite song

"So, what would everybody like for dinner?"

The sound of your voice caused the entire team to turn their attention away from the TV screen and look at you. They were confused, "What?" Jay questioned as he sat criss-cross on the carpeted floor.

They were all watching a movie while Jay was playing on his Nintendo.

You had a smile on your face and a F/C apron wrapped around your outer elbow. "What would you all like for dinner?" You said again, this time with everybody now looking at each other, not knowing what to say.

"I thought Zane was cooking dinner tonight?" Cole wondered, pointing over to the Nindroid who sat on a single chair, looking at the group.

"I was?" He poundered, fuorrowing his eyebrows in thought. "Well, I mean, you cook almost every night? We just assumed it would be Zane who makes dinner." Lloyd added, answering Zane's question.

"Oh. Well in that case I better get to it, should I?" Zane smiled, but before he could stand you stomped in front of him and made a stop motion with your hand. The Nindroid looked up at you with a cocked eyebrow.

"No. As Lloyd said, Zane cooks dinner all the time, not to mention almost all of our meals. I say it's time to give him a break and we cook something tonight?"

While you thought this was a good idea, the others had different opinions. It was quiet for a moment, Zane sat back down unsure what he should do.

"Y/N...Why do you think Zane is the only one who cook's?" Nya asked as she was seated on the long couch inbetween her brother and Jay, who had the same question.

You shrugged, now feeling stupid.

"Well, Jay electricuted the stove, Kai burned the stove, Lloyd blew up the stove, and I flooded the entire kitchen for an entire day." Nya explained, exposing everyone for their past mistakes.

They all cringed at their past mistakes.

You slowly nod, understanding, somewhat.

"Zane is the only one who is more skilled in cooking, besides his steaks, MMH, you have to try it, Y/N." Cole praised. Zane smiled softly at Cole's compliment.

You paused to think.

Zane was an amazing baker, but you felt like he needed a break too.

"Zane?" You asked, turning your head to him. "Yes, Y/N?" He replied. You faced him and asked, "Do you want to make dinner tonight?"

He thought for a moment, looking at the team and back at you, coming up with an answer. "I do not mind cooking dinner tonight. I see that everybody likes it, so sure." He smiled genuinly.

"Oh... "

Suddenly an idea came into mind, "Why don't I help you cook dinner tonight?" You grabbed Zane's hand with a grin painted on your face.

"Have you ever cooked before, Y/N? I do not think it would be a good idea for you to-" "Of course! Everyone cooked something in their life. Even though it may or may not have burned over 50 times- Just come on, I think it will be fun!"

You and Zane aoomed out of the living area, leaving the others in confusion. "If Y/N burns down the kitchen, Zane will be the only one cooking dinner for now on." Jay spoke before looking back to his Nintendo, the others nod in agreement.

Zane stood in the kitchen while you grabbed all the instenils.

He looked to the clock on the stove and read, 8: 56. It was 9 at night and you had this much energy in you?

"Okay!" Your voice caused the Nindroid to reaturn to reality and walk toward you. "What are cooking, Y/N?"

"I don't know." You shrugged, "I went shopping couple days ago and I grabbed this steak." You took out a pack of steak from a bag and tossed the bag in the trash. You placed the tray in the sink and put the steak on top of it. "Cole said something about being skilled in cooking steaks? I would like to that in action."

Zane blinked a couple of times before smiling.

"Let's get started." You grinned as you handed him his pink apron. "What kind of cook cook's without his apron?" You winked as you bowed, raising his apron in the air.

He chuckled quielty before taking it from your hold and put it around his torso. You put your's on right after and you both got to cooking.

Oven was set to 500 degrees, the pan was on the stove and with gloves Zane grabbed the piece of steak and slowly placed it on the oily pan.

"What makes you steak so special, Robot-man?" You asked, saying the same you called him first meeting him. He smiled at the name but replied, "I don't think my steak's that speical then Cole anticpates, but I'm glad many like it."

You nod in understanding, sitting on the counter by the stove. Zane was anxious about that. Your hand was close to the burner and his eyes were locked on your hand. For a while, I mean.

"I don't think that's wise." He spoke up after moments of you not moving your ahdn. "Hm?" You asked but realized was he meant. "Don't wory about, I'm always careful."

"Kai said the same thing last time we was in the kitchen and he managed to burn his entire arm. And no, It wasnt because of his Elemental Power, he wasn't careful." Zane spoke, locking eyes with you which caused you to laugh nervously.

"Zahane. I swear, I'll be alright. I'm nothing like that hot-head, I'll be okay." You hopped off the counter and grabbed a cutting bored from the cupbored and a small cutting knife.

Zane nods his head, believeing what you told him.

You bob your head to a song you were singing in your head by F/S. You were cutting up some onions to put around the steak. You were so into the humming of your song, your hand slipped off to the side and the knife sliced your finger.

You gasp at the feel of the cut before dropping the kinfe that had barely zero blood on it. Blood dripped from your index finger and onto a piece of onion. You grabbed a towel nearby and turned away from Zane when he heard your gasp on pain.

"Y/N? Did you cut yourself?" He assumed, leaving the steak and made his way to you. Your back was away from him and you laughed nervously. "Wh-whaht? Me? No-no, I'm okay. Just a close call-" Zane gently grabbed your shoulder and saw you cover the finger with a towel.

He looked at you with a 'really' look and you smiled sheepihsly. "Hehe- I tried to be careful?" Zane sighed, taking your hand and guides you toward the sink.

"Zane? Zane, come on, I'm fine. It's barely bleeding."

"I don't believe you." He replied and you sighed, allowing him to unroll the towel to reveal the wound.

He turned the the tap and waited for the hot water to pour. Once it did he slowly placed your finger under the water, "This miht sting, I'm sorry." He whispered in your ear. He was stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your body as he cleaned your wound.

You hissed at the pain when the water hits the wound, but when he added the soap you grabbed his arm to pull him back. "I know." He spoke softly as tears stung in your eye.

Seconds later he turned the water off and cleaned your woun with the towel to stop the bleeding. Quickly he grabbed a bandaid from the first aid kit in the bottom drawer and placed the bandaid on your finger.

"Thanks." You spoke after a couple minutes of silence while Zane went back to cooking the steak. He nods before walking back to you. You were sitting on the chair and table by the side of the kitchen. "You're welcome, Y/N. I told you to be careful, and you manged to cut yourself seconds later. That doesn't seem 'careful' to me."

You chcukled to yourself, "I'm so glad my knight in shinging titanium armor was here to help." You joked, but you didn't hear Zane laugh. You looked up at him to see a hint of light pink on his cheek.

"No way. You're blushing?" You laughed as Zane pulled away from you. "I'm unsure what you mean, Y/N?" He smiled to himself, going back to the steak.

You grinned, "Don't fuck with me, Robot-man. You were blushing, I made tou blush! And that quickly too? Wow, you are one easy Ninja to fluster. I though Jay was wor-"

Suddenly, you felt a pair of cold lips collide with your's. Your eyes widen when you realized it was Zane? He was fully into it, eye's shut and all. His hands were resting on your shoulder as your neck was streched up to reach his lips.

He pulled away after moments of kissing, and without knowing, a blush a red covered your cheeks and nose. It was like the middle of your face was covered with dark red paint.

"I'm sorry? You were saying something?" He teased, butterflies in your stomach started to form and you giggled uncontrollably. Zane smiled at you and went back to the steak.

Dinner arrived around 11 and everyone was seated around the table. They all got their plate and began to dig in. You made some side dishes such as mashed poatoes, salad, and you even made poutine, with Zane's help of course.

Everyone seemed to enjoy it x10 then before when Zane made dinner. "Woah. Zane, you've outdid yourself with this steak. It's delisious! What's in it?" Nya smiled as she took yet another bite as she asked.

You and Zane looked at each and you replied for him, "Well, I'm glad you asked Nya. You see, I was cutting the onions but I accdentily cut my finger and maybe a little bit of blood may of slipped in there. That may be what your eating?"

Suddenlt, everyone but Zane and you spat the food out while MAster Wu silently grabbed a napkin and spat it out in his white napkin. "Ah, ew! Y/N blood!" Jay cringed as Y/N and Zane chuckled to themselves.

97 notes · View notes

skzhocomments · 1 year ago

Text

Careless Mistakes - Lee Know Oneshot Fanfic

Pairing: Minho (Lee Know of Stray Kids) x Violet (OC - story written in 2nd person)

Genre: angst, romance, very explicit smut, angry sex, enemies to lovers

Word Count: ~7.6k

Warnings: extremely sexually graphic, anal, the traffic light system, swearing, slight bullying, angst, crying, character is poor and starving herself, mention of eating disorder, probably others.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Minho or any other SKZ members’ true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad: click here and AO3: click here

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

---

Summary:

Your whole life has been uprooted after your dad unexpectedly passed away two months ago, leaving behind your younger sister you decided to care and provide for no matter what. To be able to give her the same lifestyle she was used to, you had to take up another job. Minho had no way of knowing that. For him, you were just an annoying stylist that kept messing everything up, making careless mistakes. You got tired of his antics, hearing him swear at you over and over again, so you proposed the most logical illogical thing: fucking it out. After all, angry sex is the best way to cool off.

---

"I swear to God, I'm gonna fucking kill her!" Minho shouted annoyed as soon as he got backstage, trying to tug his shirt back into the damn belt.

"Come on, man, don't be like that." Jisung tried to comfort him, putting his hand on his shoulder. "Just get over it."

"No! I told everyone countless of times I'm uncomfortable with my abdomen showing, what can't she fucking get? I swear, it's either intentional, or she's bad as fuck at her job and should be fired."

"Don't be so harsh on her, I'm sure she's doing her best. She's just new. She's been with us for what, 8 months?"

"She's doing her best, my ass. First, she gave me that tight ass necklace I had to rip off mid-dance because it was literally strangling me. Then she gave me those annoying boots with the impossible zipper, and I had to focus for half the performance to not continue barefoot. Then, the freaking sunglasses! Doesn't she know what choreographies we have? Unless she literally glues them on, they are bound to fly off my head! But that's nothing. Today she fucking topped it! If this is her best, then she should get the fuck out of this place, she's clearly not meant for it." He ripped off the earpiece, angrily.

"I understand you're annoyed, and I get you, but-" Jisung started, before getting interrupted again.

"Is Violet still here?" He asked a staff member, who pointed him towards the girl. He didn't hesitate to march over.

"Yo." He said shortly, annoyance in his tone.

"Hello, Minho. Great performance!" You smiled, complimenting him. "You danced really well and looked amazing on stage, as always. You're a great performer. You too, Jisung." You smiled at the boy following Minho sheepishly as well.

The antipathy Minho has been harbouring towards you for the past few weeks was unknown to you, so you didn't have any reason to believe that what he was going to say would actually be meant to hurt you. You just smiled as he started spitting venom at you.

"Yea, not thanks to you. What the fuck is wrong with you? Can't you read one simple instruction?"

Of course, he had no way of knowing that you've been having a really harsh time lately, that you indeed couldn't focus on your job that well considering everything that happened, that your whole life has been uprooted after your dad unexpectedly passed away two months ago and that you've been running on 4 hours of sleep as you took care of your younger sister and got a second job to be able to offer her the same lifestyle she lived until now.

He couldn't have known.

"I'm sorry?" You replied, tilting your head, confusion written all over your face.

Minho chuckled mockingly. "You're sorry? Did you even get what you did wrong, or should I spell it out for you?"

"Uhm... please. If there is anything I did that upset you that much-" you hated how your voice quivered, but you hated him a little bit more for acting like this towards you. "The necklace this time wasn't tight... and I didn't give you any more boots with zippers, so..."

You watched over at Jisung who was moving his hands around pointing to his blouse frantically. "Was... was it the shirt?" You questioned, remembering that you read one time that one of the members absolutely hated having his abs exposed. You were sure it was Changbin, but you really couldn't remember. The past few weeks were extremely hazy.

"Bingo! Your head is not totally empty! Well done!" He exclaimed, clapping mockingly.

"Uhm... Okay, I will note that down again and-"

"How come I have to tell you what's wrong after every single performance? Are you that incapable of reading the previous stylist's notes, or noticing for yourself?"

"You're right. I'm sorry." You replied, feeling your eyes sting. Everything was getting to be too much. Plus, it's not like you messed up all the time. Sure, he could dislike an accessory every now and then, but you had to dress him basically everyday. He seemed to forget that 6 days out of 7, nothing was wrong with his outfit.

"Sorry this, sorry that. Instead of apologising you'd better do your job right, or even better, quit while you're at it."

Before you got the chance to say anything else, he turned around and left.

You tried your hardest to keep your composure. You couldn't cry yet, when the room was still buzzing with people.

"Don't mind him too much, he's just been stressed." Jisung started, but you just shook your head and smiled.

"That's okay. He's right. I will do better."

"He's kind of an asshole, isn't he?" Jisung whispered, making both of you chuckle. "Thanks for today. I really liked my outfit."

"Thank you, Jisung." You smiled.

"I'll get going, see you later?"

"Sure." You smiled, feeling a bit better. Jisung did have a way of turning any battleground into a children's park, apparently.

"Violet, girl! Wanna get lunch? We have almost 2 hours until the next shooting starts." One of your coworkers approached you cheerfully. "The other girls are also coming, so I was just thinking we could all eat together. There's a sushi place not far from here and it's delicious!"

Lunch.

Right.

When was the last time I ate? You wondered.

"Oh, sushi sounds great!" You chuckled in a friendly manner. "I have to get something sorted out first, though, so you can go first. I'll join you all if I manage to finish in time." You smiled at your coworker, who nodded.

"That's too bad! Well, we're keeping you a seat, so feel free to come whenever you're done!"

"Of course."

Being alone in the empty room, you started rummaging through similar black shirts you could give Minho to change in.

Sure, he was right, but he didn't need to be such a jerk about it. You thought, reminding yourself of the unpleasant encounter. It felt so horrible having him shout at you and looking at you with so much hate.

You were in the wrong, sure. You knew you made a few careless mistakes. But he could've treated you a bit better, like you were a human being, not a punching machine for his verbal abuse.

Finally on your own, you let yourself sit down on the sofa in the corner of the room and cry, letting the tears fall down freely on your cheeks as you kept your head rolled back on the small cushions.

Suddenly, the door opened with force, and you jumped up in surprise, noticing Changbin walk in. You wiped your face as much as you could in the few seconds it took him to spot you, and you smiled at him.

"Sorry, just left my phone here. Didn't you go to lunch yet?" He asked, looking at you. If he noticed you've been crying, he didn't mention it.

"Oh, I just have to finish this quickly, then I'll eat something." You lied once again. You didn't need food, what you needed right now was to cut costs wherever possible to be able to afford your little sister's ballet classes.

You wished she didn't have such expensive passions, but as the oldest, it was your responsibility to take care of her and her interests when there wasn't anyone else to do it. Poor kid had it rough enough already. When your dad remarried and had a daughter with his new wife, she died giving birth to her, so she never even knew a mother figure.

You felt bad, so despite there being a 15-year age-gap between you and her, you tried to be there as much as possible.

"Oh, I see. Found it!" He exclaimed, grabbing his phone from the table.

"Have a nice lunch!" You exclaimed and waved at him, starting to sort through Lee Know's shirts again. You were so dizzy, it was getting hard to focus, but still, you somehow managed to stay awake and find more comfortable items that would fit him in the big pile of clothes brought by their sponsors, and then you sat back down on the sofa and took a small nap.

"Done?" Felix laughed as Changbin returned to the table, victoriously showing off his recovered phone.

"Yes! I left it on the table. It's good that no one took it." He chuckled.

"Yea, no one would've noticed someone taking a phone that's not theirs, since that room is always full, right?" Hyunjin asked as he took a small bite of the sliced vegetables.

"Oh, it was quite empty this time, though." Changbin said with his mouth full. "Besides Violet."

"Yea? Why was she still there? I thought the team went to lunch at the sushi place. Didn't she go with them?" Chan asked, curious.

"I know it's not okay to comment on people's bodies or anything, but didn't you guys notice that she's lost a lot of weight and looks rather... frail?" Felix asked the group of boys, knowing full well how drained of energy he was when he used to starve himself.

"She almost passed out last week during shooting." Seungmin said matter-of-factly, making everyone look up at him. "What? Is there something on my face?" He wiped his cheeks.

"What do you mean she passed out?" Minho asked, watching Seungmin closely.

"I said almost. She was in the hallway when I went to the bathroom, and I just saw her lean on a wall, and her knees gave in for a bit, so she fell."

"And?!" Jisung asked, mouth open.

"She said she was just very tired and brushed me off, and since I had to come back to do that 8-man shoot, I didn't really stay and chat." Seungmin shrugged and munched on the rice bowl in front of him.

"I'm a bit worried for her..." Felix said, looking down.

"She did look a bit dejected... but I'm sure she'll be fine, right?" Changbin touched Felix' shoulder, as always admiring how empathetic he was towards others.

"Yea, I will... talk to her!" Felix decided, resolve in his voice.

"So, what did you think about..."

The boys continued talking for a while about the shooting, their new music video and the upcoming busy schedule.

"Anyways, I'm done eating, so I'm gonna head upstairs and rest for a bit until y'all come." Minho stood up after a while, and started leisurely making his way back to the dressing room, set on laying down on the sofa and closing his eyes for a few minutes.

When he put his hand on the handle, he heard your voice through the door, and despite knowing that he shouldn't, he stayed there and eavesdropped. You seemed to be talking on the phone, not too loud, but loud enough for him to hear.

"Oh my God, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you, Mimi!"

You seemed excited.

"That's so great to hear! We have to celebrate this! I'll change my schedule to be free on Saturday, so let's eat some cake, what do you say?"

What would be so worth celebrating? And what schedule? As far as Minho knew, there wasn't anything planned for this weekend.

"Of course chocolate, what else, Mimi? Oh, I know, let's buy some meat and we can have a barbecue as well! We didn't have one in a while, did we?"

Barbecue AND a cake? Sounds like fun.

"Two new dresses? For the show?" You asked.

Minho raised a brow. He wasn't supposed to listen to other people's conversation. Should he just enter the room?

"300$ per dress?!" You exclaimed in horror. "Wow!"

He pressed the handle and opened the door, but you didn't notice him getting in, because you were crouched on the floor, as if you were in pain.

"No, Mimi, of course we're going to buy them. I'll figure it out, so don't you worry about anything! Look, my break is almost over, so I have to go. I will get home earlier today, at about 12 AM, but don't wait for me, and go to sleep instead, yea?"

Minho approached you slowly. What were you even going to do until 12 AM? And how is that early?

"You're such a strong girl! Love you too!" You said and ended the call, sighing. Your stomach was hurting, which made it difficult to stand up, and you were so dizzy. How were you going to work the next 10 hours?

"Violet?" Minho asked you, making you stand up way too quickly in horror. The dizziness got to your head, and you felt yourself almost fainting, your knees giving in. Before you fell, Minho caught you and he looked at you almost worried.

You knew better than to think he actually gave two shits about you. Your earlier conversation told you as much, anyway.

"Sorry, I didn't notice you come in." You said and moved away from his grasp.

"How was lunch?" He asked you.

"Good. Since you're here earlier, I found these clothes that you could-"

"What did you eat?"

"Huh?" You asked perplexed. Why did he care?

"What did you have for lunch?"

"Why?"

"Just curious." He shrugged.

"Rice and some vegetables." You lied with a smile. "What about you?"

"Where?"

"What?"

"Where did you eat?" I didn't see you downstairs.

"Oh, I brought food from home." You replied, not missing a beat. It was getting so easy to blurt out this kind of lies.

"What are you celebrating this weekend?"

"Is this some sort of interrogatory?" You laughed. "Nothing that concerns you. Can you try those clothes now?"

"... Sure." Minho replied, grabbing the shirt and the new pants you gave him, heading towards the changing room.

Just then, your other coworkers entered the room.

"Violet! You didn't join us after all!"

"Sadly." You laughed. "I had to find some new clothes."

"Did you eat anything?"

"I did, I brought something from home. Thanks for always taking care of me." You smiled.

"By the way, your sister's recital should be one of these days, right?"

"Oh wow, you remembered!" You chuckled, noticing that Minho still hasn't left the room. You shooed him away, but he seemed to ignore you, and started participating in the conversation.

"What kind of recital?" He showed you a shit-eating grin, happy that he was going to hear what he wanted to hear, after all.

"Oh, her sister is a little ballet prodigy!" One of your coworkers complimented. "She's sooo talented! Best of luck to her!"

"Oh, it was actually today, and she just called me earlier telling me she got the main role!" You smiled, boasting. You were very proud of your little sister for accomplishing this, after your dad's accident. His death was harder on her than it was on you, but she was taking it like a champion.

"No way! She's gonna be Cinderella?! Congrats!" She hugged you.

"Wow, Cinderella!" Minho exclaimed as well. "That's so cute! I wanna see her too, when is her show?"

"I don't know, Minho, I just found out 15 minutes ago that she got the role. Will you go change?" You smiled fakely.

"But Violet, isn't it super expensive?" Your coworker frowned. "Keeping her in classes, and I bet her costumes are going to cost you a lot..."

"Oh, indeed."

"You got a second job, right?" Your coworker further inquired, and you started feeling uncomfortable.

"Yea, I did."

"Poor girl. First you lose your dad, then you have to work this hard at such a young age... Let us know if we can help with anything, hm?" Your coworkers smiled as if they were pitying you, and you hated this. You didn't notice Minho's gaze, nor did you care to look. You indulged in the pleasantries of your coworkers. It wasn't like they were actually going to help you in any way, so you didn't understand why they were pretending to want to be helpful.

Minho eventually left to change without saying anything else, and all the boys soon returned to the dressing room.

"Violet, can I have a word with you?" Felix approached you with a small smile, and both of you headed to the hallway.

"What's up?" You smiled back, noticing that he was fidgeting, looking perturbed.

"I don't want to... bother you with my questions, but..."

"Hey." You put your hand on his left shoulder. It's not like you were friends, but he must've had a reason to ask you to talk privately. "It's okay, you can ask me anything."

"I... uhm... used to do this really bad thing where I wouldn't eat for days trying to lose weight, and..."

"Oh." Now it made sense why Minho asked what you ate today. They talked about you.

"I'm sorry, I know it's not my place to say anything, but I just wanted to let you know that you are already beautiful as you are, and you don't need to lose any weight, but if you want to, you should do it in a healthy way... Changbin-hyung even offered to go to the gym together, if you want..."

"Lix." You smiled. "It's nothing like that."

"Don't lie to me." He looked at you sadly. "I know you haven't been eating. I've seen how tired you are, and I was the same way..."

You felt bad, because Felix clearly went through something and used to have an eating disorder, so this conversation was probably really difficult for him.

"No, you're right. I haven't been eating, but it has nothing to do with losing weight." You furrowed your brows, sadness taking over your expression.

"Then?"

"I just... uhm. This is awkward." You chuckled, not noticing Minho coming out of the changing room on the hallway. "Rent, and my sister's ballet classes are really expensive, and now she will need two dresses for her show, so... I'm cutting costs wherever I can. I'm doing fine with eating once every few days, so don't worry about it." You smiled sadly, noticing Felix's gaze drop.

"You don't have..." he started, just when Minho talked a few metres away from you.

"What are you guys doing?" He grinned. "Violet, these clothes feel way better, I wouldn't have had a screaming fit if you found these first!" Minho chuckled loudly. He didn't want to make it obvious that he's heard your talk with Felix.

"Oh, that's good to hear. Shall we head back, then?" You smiled, and opened the door to the dressing room.

~two days later~

No fucking way. Minho thought, fighting every urge to roll his eyes after his bracelet fell off and he had to toss it out of the way on the stage. How come all the other members you dressed didn't have any problems with their clothes or accessories?

Once again, he returned to the dressing room fuming, complaining loudly to Jisung about you.

"Yo, Violet!" He shouted, seeing you relax on the couch.

"Minho, great performance as always!" You smiled, in a fake manner this time.

"Shut up, can you take this off?" He gave you his left arm, and you looked confused at his wrist.

"Take what off? Where is the bracelet?" You furrowed your brows.

"On the fucking stage. After it fucking fell." He replied, annoyed.

"No way!" You exclaimed, waiting for another meltdown like last time.

Fuck, you didn't have energy for this.

Thankfully, Chan approached Minho to talk to him about something.

"He's taking it out too much on you." One of your coworkers commented, making you nod.

"Right?!" You pouted, making her laugh.

"Maybe he has a crush on you." Another coworker said, clearly joking.

"Yea, in what universe?" You joined her laughing. "He's just an angry asshole."

"But Violet, you know what they say, sometimes the best way to let off steam is to have angry sex."

"Oh my god!" You slapped her arm playfully. "Don't say shit like that! What if he hears?" You looked anxiously at Minho, who, despite not being too far, seemed caught up in a conversation with Chan.

Thank God he didn't hear this. It would've been embarrassing as hell.

"If he hears, he might take you up on the offer." She laughed, making you roll your eyes.

"Anyways," your other coworker stopped the madness. "Let's go eat. Are you coming, Violet?"

"Oh, no. I want to rest for a bit before the next job, so I'm gonna stay here and sleep."

"Want us to buy you something, then?"

"No, thank you, I have some food in my backpack, so don't worry!"

You saw Minho turn away to look at you briefly, before he exited the room.

Soon, all your coworkers left as well, so you were left in peace. You've been waiting for lunch break to start and for everyone to leave the room for about two hours now, so you can finally sleep for a bit on the couch.

It's been getting harder and harder to stay awake, since you had really low energy levels after not having eaten more than an apple for 4 days now.

"Violet." A voice woke you up, and you opened your eyes, confused by your surroundings.

Oh, this is the dressing room. You realised, pressing your hand on your forehead. Your whole head was hurting.

"You're finally awake. I've been trying to wake you for the past 10 minutes." Minho chuckled.

"Why are you here?" You asked, your voice groggy. "Is it already 2?"

"No, it's barely 12:30. I was in the mood for some peace and quiet, so I thought I'd get lunch here. I bought too much. Wanna eat together?"

"Hm?" You were now fully awake, and smelling the food made your stomach hurt even worse. You were so hungry.

"Come, let's eat." He dragged a table closer to the sofa and started opening up a few containers with fresh food from the cafeteria.

It smelled great.

Minho gave you some chopsticks and a spoon and placed a bottle of water in front of you.

"This is really good." You smiled, tasting the chicken soup. After examining all the contents on the table, you realised that he only brought foods good for the stomach: chicken soup, fish, rice, apricots.

"I'm glad you like it."

"You... heard me and Felix the other day, didn't you?" You asked, avoiding his gaze.

"Mhm." He hummed. "I did."

"Thank you... but you didn't have to."

"Yea, I know. Not for my dummy stylist who messes up my look everytime and annoys the shit out of me, anyway." He shrugged.

"Yah, don't be like that!" You frowned.

"It's the truth though." He shrugged again, before bursting out into laughing. He really seemed to enjoy messing with you.

"When is Cinderella's ballet show?" He asked, looking at the food, as if embarrassed.

"What?" You asked, being taken aback by the sudden change of topic.

"Your sister's-"

"In 3 months."

"You're not gonna miss it if you're coming with us to the US, right?" He asked you, concerned. "You're coming, right?" He quickly added, as if scared to hear a negative response.

"Of course I'm coming." You chuckled. There was no way in hell you would miss an opportunity to travel through the major cities in the US with all expenses paid, while you got three times your salary. "And no, the show is exactly one week after we return, so I won't miss anything."

"That's great. Can I come see her too?"

"Wh-what?" You choked on your food, grabbing the bottle on the table and taking a big gulp of water.

"I'm curious, and I haven't seen a ballet in ages."

"They're all children, Minho. They won't be professionals like you guys." You chuckled.

"It doesn't matter. Get me a ticket?"

"Pfft." You laughed again. "Okay. Sure."

"Let me pay for her dresses." He blurted out, quietly, and you weren't sure you heard him right. Surely he wasn't suggesting giving you money.

"What?" You smiled, not knowing what to think.

"They are pretty expensive for you, but they don't mean anything to me, and I'd like to buy them."

"Uhm. Why?"

"Just because."

"Because of what?" You questioned further, looking at him in confusion.

"Because I want to. What do you want me to say?" He asked, annoyed.

"I don't... no." You denied his request, turning away to the food. Minho didn't insist further.

Once you finished eating everything, you felt more energised than ever, so you thanked Minho genuinely and felt ready to conquer the world. Perhaps it wasn't going to be such a shitty day after all.

After that day, every time you would have a common schedule with Stray Kids, Minho would either get lunch with you, or force you into coming with him to the cafeteria and buying you lunch.

You got used to his presence and his witty remarks, but he still annoyed to shit out of you with his dislike for various garments or accessories you would give him.

Tonight was the third show in the US, and all of you were in the large venue, preparing the Kids backstage.

The concert was amazing, but as soon as Minho returned, annoyance was once again plastered all over his face. You were not in the main room, so he went to find you, and you were resting in a quiet place – the stairs of the hallway for the Staff. No one bothered to come here during the concert.

"Violet!" He groaned.

"What is it this time?" You rolled your eyes, annoyed. Why did he keep disturbing your quiet time after each concert?

"My cap fell off, and my earpiece got stuck in the fucking earring you gave me!" He shouted at you, and you stood up, facing him.

You had enough.

You went right in front of him, your chests almost touching, while you looked into his fiery eyes.

"You know what, Minho? You're whining so fucking much, I should be the one to say that you annoy the shit out of me."

"Oh yea?" He said, as if threatening you. "If you did your job right..."

"Look, no one else ever has any complains, so what is it with you? 'My ring is too big!'; 'The hair clip is scratching my head!'; 'My pants are too tight!'. Grow the fuck up!"

He seemed taken aback for a second, before smirking at you. You never showed this much resistance before, and he kinda liked it, although he preferred... more obedient girls.

He was sure you're gonna be the obedient type, though.

"You're truly the worst stylist I've ever seen." He challenged you, still sporting the dumb smirk.

"You know what, Minho? Maybe my coworker is right."

"About what?" Minho tilted his head.

You must be crazy.

But he was so close to you, and his perfume mixed with his natural scent after sweating on the stage was intoxicating. He was too close.

Violet, stop. You tried telling yourself, but when did you ever listen?

"We should fuck it out." You said plainly, glancing straight into his eyes.

"I'm not sure you want that, Violet. I'm not sure you can handle me taking all my anger out on you like that."

"Try me." You said again, confidence lacing your tone, as he pressed his body on yours and pinned you up against the wall, kissing you hungrily.

Your kiss was heated, and you wanted nothing more than to fuck him right there, but it was too risky. Any staff member could come in the hallway and see you.

"What is your room number?" Minho stepped away from you, lust visible in his eyes.

"42. Are you coming tonight?"

"No, baby." He chuckled. "I'm going to send you a present, and you're going to come to mine at exactly 11:30 PM, wearing it. Number's 143. Yea?" His hand was on your neck, fingers brushing your skin gently, as his eyes expectedly looked at you.

"Mhm." You nodded, already feeling excitement pool down in your stomach.

"Good girl." He kissed you again, before turning around and leaving you there all flustered. He just knew you were going to be the obedient type.

No way.

When you heard a small knock on your door at 10 PM, you weren't sure what to expect. Opening it, you saw one of the room service ladies holding two luxury black bags.

"Miss Violet? I have a delivery for you." She handed you the shopping bags hastily, then left.

The first bag contained a small box with a pair of Louboutin red bottom black high heels. You weren't sure how you were going to walk on them, but they were pretty, and considering the brand, expensive as heck.

Maybe you could sell them after tonight to pay for your sister's dresses, after all. You still haven't figured that one out yet. Perhaps you should've taken Minho up on the offer two months ago and let him buy them, since he was going to shower you with such gifts anyway.

You curiously opened the second bag and pulled out a lacy see-through black underwear set, and the sluttiest tight black dress one could find. Wearing it on your body, you took the time to admire yourself in the mirror. It was a strapless neckline, the dress being tight around the waist and supported by your hips, after which the dress would split on both sides of your thighs, dropping lower only about a palm's length.

You certainly never wore such a slutty dress, and the lacy three-piece underwear set – specifically the garters of the set – were totally visible under it.

You only had to go up a few floors, but would it be even remotely appropriate to wear something like this outside the room?

Fucking Minho. You cursed, thinking of what a shit eating smirk he must've had ordering these clothes. You didn't even want to think of tomorrow's walk of shame.

When the clock showed 11:25, you grabbed a black trench coat which you were glad to have brought with you to the US, unaware of the weather, and hugged it tightly around your body, not wanting to risk being seen like the 21st century biggest slut.

You made your way towards the elevator and pressed the 14th floor, then found the third room in the hallway, 143, and knocked.

Minho opened it eagerly, but frowned at the sight of you.

"What's with that?" he pointed to your trench coat, making you snicker.

"You didn't want me to walk through the whole hotel dressed like this, right?" You opened it up, showing him that you indeed wore what he bought for you. It was maybe the boldest thing you've done, but you were too far gone and way too horny to care anymore.

Minho was an ass, but he was attractive, and he had a good side to him as well, noting that he took care of your meals for the past two months. Why not have sex with him too while you're at it?

He stepped aside to let you walk in, and as soon as he closed the door, the trench coat flew off your body, and your back was glued to the door, as he started kissing you eagerly.

A few seconds in, you understood why he picked a strapless dress. Minho started kissing your jawline, then moved on to your exposed neck, sucking and biting your skin harshly. You moaned in pleasure, not giving a shit about how much he was marking you. You liked it.

Your tits were the next to become completely exposed, as he almost tore the dress taking it lower. He didn't even admire the lacy black underwear, he just took it off hastily, and you wondered why he bought it in the first place.

He kissed your chest down to your boobs and bit the sensitive skin on them, making you groan in pain. When you put your hands in his hair to signal him to slow down, he just grabbed them and slammed them tightly against the door, so you couldn't move.

Despite your small whines, he continued sucking on your right breast, his hand having fun with your left boob, fingers massaging and pinching your nipple.

Minho moved his hands on your hips, his mouth still attached to your right breast, as his fingers found the rim of your lacy panties. He took them off swiftly, disconnecting your bodies as he sat down on his knees in front of you.

He looked beautiful.

Without saying anything, he spun you around and spread your thighs apart, connecting his mouth to your pussy.

"Fuck." You moaned, feeling his tongue drawing stripes along your core and separating your folds as he was forcing the entry.

After a while, he moved his tongue up, and started eating out your butthole. You let out a gasp in surprise, as you truly weren't expecting that, and you felt embarrassed. You never did any butt play with anyone else, and you felt insecure, so you tried to turn around, but Minho had other plans, as he gripped your thighs tightly and slapped your left butt cheek powerfully, making you groan in pain once more. His fingers and the hit were sure to leave bruises tomorrow.

When he sensed that you wouldn't move anymore, his right hand moved from your thigh to your clit, and he started massaging it just as his tongue entered your hole.

You didn't know your ass could feel so good, and his fingers working on your clit at the same time brought a powerful orgasm out of you, your knees almost giving in.

You were already a mess, but the night was just beginning.

"Violet, let me tell you how we're gonna work tonight." He started, but you already barely heard him, still trying to recover and to keep your legs from shaking and giving in. Minho also seemed to notice, as he stood up and pressed his body on yours.

You felt his bulge against your ass, and you wondered how good his dick was going to feel deep inside of you.

"We're going to use the traffic light system. Are you familiar with that?" He whispered in your ear, and you shook your head.

"No, I don't think so."

"There are three colours. Green means 'I love it, you can keep going'. Yellow means 'I am a bit uncomfortable. Slow down, but keep going'. And red means 'Stop. I can't take it anymore'. If you use red, we're done. You can trust me to stop. Okay?"

"Yea. Got it." You nodded, feeling his hot breath on your neck.

"Promise me you're going to use red if it gets to be too much. Don't force yourself to please me."

"... I promise." You replied, and you were grateful he was so insistent in making you feel good, not just chasing his own pleasure as most men you had sex with until now would.

Minho didn't let you have any other time to recover from the orgasm. As soon as he heard the magic words promising him you're going to respect your own boundaries, he turned you once more with your back against the door, as he kissed away the hurried gasps that were still coming out of your mouth.

He gripped your dress tightly and took it off you, then grabbed your wrist and took you in front of the bed, grabbing your hair to make you kneel down in front of him.

You watched expectedly as he unbuckled his belt, taking out his dick. Once again, knowing exactly what he wanted, he didn't miss a beat in forcefully sliding his whole length down your throat.

You choked on it, but he didn't care, he just kept guiding your head to suck him off and used your mouth like a fleshlight.

You started tearing up involuntarily and felt your saliva coming out of your mouth and getting everywhere on you and on the floor each time he would take his dick out to let you breathe for air.

You were so wet, you desperately wanted to be touched again, even if you just came less than 5 minutes ago, so you moved your right hand to your clit and started playing with it. As soon as Minho noticed, he pushed his dick as far as it could go in your throat, and chuckled lowly.

"You're so selfish you wanna get off again?" He laughed at you mockingly, taking his member out again and grabbing your chin, raising your head up to look at him. His eyes were dark and full of lust.

He yanked you from the floor and threw you on the bed, starting to take off his clothes.

"Off." He pointed to your garters, the only piece of clothing left on your body, and you obediently followed his orders, remaining naked on the bed while you waited for him to come to you.

You noticed a scar on his abdomen, and you wondered if that was the reason why he was so mad when you gave him a shirt that went too far up, but he didn't leave you much time to think, as he made his way over you and pressed his body on yours, kissing your mouth while he slid in you with ease.

"You fit me so well." He complimented you, moving his mouth to your neck and leaving love bites everywhere he touched, but after a few more thrusts, he pulled out of you and made you turn around with your ass in the air, and he started fucking you doggystyle.

"Fucking hell." You moaned, as you felt his powerful thrusts. Was it dancer's stamina?

Minho spat on your asshole and started spreading his saliva around with his thumb, massaging the entrance. You felt exposed, but couldn't complain as he put his thumb inside, starting to stretch your walls.

"Colour?" He asked, slowing down his movements momentarily.

"Fuck, green." You moaned again, just wanting him to start moving again. His finger in your ass felt good, something that truly took you by surprise, as you never envisioned yourself putting anything up there.

Soon enough, Minho swapped the thumb with two of his fingers, moving them in and out of you as his dick grazed your G spot every time he moved his hips. The stretch was getting a bit uncomfortable, but you soon felt another orgasm creeping in, and started gasping for air as you let go of that knot in your stomach.

"Good girl." Minho whispered, taking his fingers out of you and pressing his thighs on the back of yours, pushing you down on the bed. He seemed to know your knees wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.

He moved in and out of your pussy a bit slower while you recovered from your orgasm, and with a last thrust, he took his dick out and rested on top of you for a moment, kissing your shoulders and back, leaving marks everywhere.

When your breathing slowed down after a few seconds, he repositioned himself, this time at your other entrance. His dick started pressing into your ass, and you felt a painful sting that made you close your eyes tightly.

"Minho, it hurts." You whined, feeling him push in.

"I know, baby, can you take it?" He asked you lowly.

"It's... my first time... there." You whined again, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks.

He was hovering above you, and with his tip inside, he brought his face closer to you and whispered.

"Colour?"

"Ugh." You groaned in pain. "Y-yellow."

Hearing you, Minho started pushing into you deeper and bit your right shoulder strongly, making you cry out in pain. The distraction worked, however, as your brain didn't seem to register which was more painful. You sobbed, but he comforted you, whispering sweet words.

"It hurts!" You cried out.

"Shh. I know, I know it does. You can take it, baby. I know you can."

He moved his hands on your inner thighs and spread your legs apart, allowing him better access.

"Oh God." You sobbed, feeling him bottom out into you.

He stayed still for a few moments before thrusting his hips back and forth, and you found that with each thrust, the feeling inside your ass was getting less and less unpleasant.

Minho brought his fingers and your clit and rubbed it quickly, as he was mercilessly fucking your asshole.

Being under him like this, with his dick in your ass and his fingers all over your pussy, you blacked out and let yourself experience a third orgasm that night, that was so powerful, you started squirting, something you've never done before. It was so good, it made you see stars. Your ass clenched around his dick, making Minho groan in pleasure.

"Such a slut for me." He grunted. "Do you like getting your ass fucked? Coming on my dick like that?"

You only whined in response, your mind no longer able to form any coherent words.

He continued fucking into you powerfully, before his own orgasm took over, and he cummed inside your ass and filled you up.

Minho plopped down next to you, putting your right leg on his hip as his fingers played with your ass, taking his cum out of it.

He spread it all over your pussy, and got it inside with his fingers as well, as he started fingering you. You rested your head on his shoulders, letting him have his way with your body, and you came for the fourth time that night, whining strongly.

Your body could no longer take it. Instead of letting you go through your orgasm slowly, Minho kept fucking you with his fingers, until you hugged his body tightly, putting your left hand steadily on his back and whispering a small "Red".

Minho stopped immediately, hugging you back.

"You did so well." He praised you. "I loved it so much, Violet."

You didn't have any energy left to reply to him, your body feeling weaker than ever.

You felt his weight disappear from next to you and a big blanket covering your body.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower then run a bath for you. You should also pee, to prevent any UTIs, okay?"

You still didn't hear him, but missed his presence next to you.

You don't know when he picked you up, but you started to become a bit more conscious as he helped you sit on the toilet, and he left the bathroom so you can have your privacy.

You started peeing, feeling both your holes burning up.

Then, you stood up, your legs shaking under your weight, and hopped into the bathtub, letting it fill with you inside of it.

Minho knocked on the bathroom's door after a while.

"Violet, can I come in?" He asked gently, and you replied with a small "Yes", your voice hoarse.

Minho came inside and made his way closer to the bathtub, gently caressing your face.

"Can I wash you?" He asked, and you nodded.

He let the water start draining as he took shower gel into his hands and started spreading it on your arms and body. He washed his hands off the soap and brought his right one down, brushing his fingers on your swollen private parts.

You winced in pain and placed your hand on his, wanting to stop him from touching you any further.

"I'm not going to do anything, Violet. Don't worry. I just want to wash my release off you." He said gently, and you just nodded, trusting him and letting him take care of you.

When he was done washing you, he grabbed a big, white towel and wrapped it around you, as he took you in his arms and put you back on the bed. You took the towel off, wanting to be more comfortable, when you noticed the new sheets.

"Oh, the bed was a mess, so I called reception to have them come and change them." Minho clarified with a smile after seeing your confused expression, making sure you were comfortable under the covers and laying down next to you. He was thoughtful, and you were glad he did that, as the bed was filled to the rim with your release and his.

You closed your eyes and fell asleep quickly, as Minho brushed his hand through your hair gently.

Minho woke up the next morning to a bang on his door. He quickly put on some pants and a shirt as he noticed you still sleeping soundly.

Opening the door, he saw Jisung.

"Man, you're going to miss breakfast if you don't hurry up!" He scolded his elder.

"That's okay. I'll order something later." Minho quickly brushed him off, wanting to do nothing more than to come back to bed next to you.

"Anyways, I think I left my Switch here, so I came to get it." He brushed past Minho, not understanding why he was pulling his arm to try and get him out of the room.

And then he saw you sleeping in his bed, naked under the sheets, and he went as red as a tomato. He literally ran out of the room.

"Oh my God, what the hell!"

"Quiet down or you're gonna wake her, idiot." Minho face palmed, finding it amusing how flustered Jisung became.

"What did you do to her?! She's all bruised up!" He exclaimed quietly.

"Nothing she didn't like, don't worry." Minho chuckled again. "Anyways, I'm gonna miss breakfast, and your Switch is not in my room, it's in Hyunjin's."

"Oh. Then-"

"Bye!" Minho waved before closing the door right in his friend's face, then returned to bed to see you still asleep. He was glad the commotion didn't wake you, as you seemed to really need to rest.

One hour or so later, you finally woke up, seeing Minho watching you stretch your limbs.

"Morning." He smiled.

"Hey." You replied, your voice even more hoarse than last night. He did a number on you, no joke.

"Slept well?"

"Mhm, I did."

"I'm glad, Violet. After last night, I'm no longer mad at you." He chuckled.

"Was that your hate fuck?" You smiled lazily, still trying to fully wake up.

"It was. Did you like it?"

"I did, but I don't think I can walk anywhere today..."

Your whole body hurt, and you were glad you had a day off before having to head to a new city for tomorrow's concert.

"Good that it's a free day."

"Mhm. Indeed."

"Do you want to see my love fuck next time?" Minho asked you, and you searched his eyes for any mockery. You were glad to see that you couldnt't find any.

"I do."

"Good. Let's go on a proper date, too." He said gently, petting your head lovingly.

"Okay." You smiled and grabbed his hand, kissing it. "Minho?"

"Yes, Violet?"

"Can you buy those dresses after all?"

"For your sister? Of course, love."

"I got you a ticket as well." You smiled at his choice of nickname, feeling your heart swell up with a new feeling.

"Thank you. I can't wait to go together." Minho replied, coming to kiss your lips.

~THE END~

45 notes · View notes

melodylnoelle · 2 years ago

Text

Nothing New

Hello! I am a day late again... well, a week and a day. Here is one from last week’s card pull, and the other will be posted late tonight.

The Cards Have Spoken - Week 8 (@brightsun-and-darkmidnight ’s cards)

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: Dealer’s Choice - 1940s!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader Category: Angst - Amnesia Relationship: Mutual pining AU: On the Run Warnings/Notes: Amnesia, injuries, mentions of loss, car accident (mentioned, described a little but not in great detail) // This one is in the same universe as the On the Run AU one from my cards in Week 5. // For these, we are setting it to a minimum of 500 words. You can use these same cards for your own story if you like, but please tag me and @brightsun-and-darkmidnight so that we can see what you do! This was a different one for me, for sure. Please enjoy Words: 3967 (whoooooops) Summary: It’s 1947, and after being on the run with you for the last year, you ended up in the hospital after an accident. Bucky is there when you wake up. Masterlist

Bucky shifted in his seat, pulling the jacket more closed over his frame. He hated being out in public – hated feeling so exposed – but he knew this was exactly where you needed to be. He would sit in this hospital bed for as long as it took for you to be alright. After all, you didn’t heal the way that he did.

He kept peeking over his shoulder, looking for HYDRA agents or the army or anyone who would recognize him – even Howard, though he doubted he would be in this clinic – but most of the time, his gaze was focused on you. He wished he could will away the cuts and bruises that peppered your face, your arms. He hadn’t been in the room when they dressed your ribs, but he imagined they looked similar mottled shades of purple and yellow. It raked at his nerves, made only worse by the fact that you hadn’t yet woken in the two days since the accident.

The doctors told him to talk to you, to encourage you to wake up. He had spent hours talking, complimenting, hell begging you. The first day, he spoke more to you than he could remember having spoken in the last two years. He took breaks when the tears welled up and his voice caught in his throat like a foreign object, choking him and resorting him to silent sobs. This is what had stopped him an hour ago – the lump in his throat that he couldn’t swallow, and the rise and fall of his chest becoming rapid and uncontrolled. He did his best to not let the doctors see that, lest they check him in as a patient himself or make him leave.

It had been long enough, though, that he had calmed again, and he decided to start back up.

“Hey doll,” he spoke quietly as he leaned forward, stroking your upper arm where there was no bruising. “You’ve been asleep a long time. I hope you’ve had some good dreams in there. But it’s time to wake up now, okay?” He let his thumb make mindless circles as he whispered in your ear. “I don’t know what to do without you. I don’t have anyone…” he trailed off, clearing his throat. This was never going to work if he couldn’t keep his emotions from choking him out. He also wasn’t so sure that this was the best time to confess how he felt, even if you weren’t awake to hear it. He was torn between that and feeling like there may never be another time. He chose to move on from it, though, once again. “I just need you to wake up, ok? I miss you. It’s lonely here without you, Y/N.”

He almost missed it. Probably would have, if he hadn’t had to look away to blink away fresh tears.

“Y/N? Did you just move your fingers?” Another twitch. This time, he was watching your hand more intently, and saw them twitch again at your name.

How had he not thought about using your name all this time? He usually called you ‘doll’ as a joke, or as a way to gauge whether you had the same feelings for him that he held for you. It had become a habit at this point. But of course you would answer to your name. Was it that simple all this time?

No, of course not, he shook his head. Just coincidental timing. But he was going to keep running with it.

“Hey Y/N. That’s really great. I need you to wake all the way up now, though, ok, Y/N? I really miss you.” Your eyes twitched but didn’t open. His hand flew to yours, and he stroked that back of your hand. “Y/N, I’m here. I just need you to open your eyes, ok? Please?”

His heart felt it was going to explode with anticipation as your eyelids fluttered. Relief flooded through him as they opened, your {e/c} eyes looking lazily and unfocused around the room. He let out a sigh, and that brought your attention to your left, right to his face.

“Hey, doll. Y/N. Welcome back.”

You opened your mouth but closed it quickly, He watched you wince as you swallowed before trying again. “Bucky?”

His heart both lept with joy at hearing his name on your lips, and broke at how raspy and strained it sounded. “Hey, Y/N. I’m here.”

�� You looked around the room slowly as your vision came better into focus. “What happened? Where are we?”

“You’re in the hospital. We were in a car accident. Do you remember?”

Your brows knit together, and you shook your head. Then winced at the pain.

“The car rolled a couple times. You got pretty beat up.”

You eyed him suspiciously in a way that broke his heart more. “Then why aren’t you hurt.”

He tried to smile. “Super-healing abilities, remember?”

All the suspicion dropped off your face immediately. “Oh. Right. That’s right.” Your hand left his to brace yourself on either side as you tried to sit up.

“Hey, hey, take it easy.” He lurched forward to place a light hand on your shoulder, pushing you down. “You shouldn’t sit up right now, you need to rest.”

He hadn’t needed to, though. You seemed to think better of it immediately. Pain flickered across your face as you let yourself sink back into the hospital bed. “Ow… yea, you’re right,” you blew out in a breathy sentence.

“I’m going to call a nurse, alright?” At your nod, he reached around you and hit the button to signal the light in the nurse’s station. He settled back into the chair, taking your hand back in yours. “How are you feeling?”

“Like crap, honestly.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

He let you take a moment.

The nurses were in very quickly. Seeing that you had woken, the left to fetch the doctor, and returned within a few minutes.

“Y/N, I’m Doctor Blake,” the man said as he shut the door. He had a pleasant smile on his face. “It’s nice to see you back in the land of the living.”

“Hi,” you croaked out.

“How long has she been awake?”

“Just a few minutes,” Bucky answered. He rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand, not willing to let go just yet.

“Alright, let’s look you over, ok?” Bucky waited in anticipation as the doctor started probing along your lymph nodes in your neck, nodding slightly. He then took a small light from his pocket and shined it in your left eye, and then the right. “Follow my finger with your eyes only, ok?” You nodded, then did what he asked until he turned the light off and put it in his pocket. “Pupil response looks good, that’s a good sign.”

“See? You’ll be good in no time, you tough cookie,” Bucky let a smile grow wide on his face. He couldn’t help the relief flooding through him, or the way his heart was racing at feeling you stroke your thumb along his hand, mirroring his own action. He had started to worry that he would never feel that again. You did that for him on some his worst nights. A gentle, innocent touch that he had no business finding so comforting. But he did. He didn’t want to return to the way the first year had been after his escape – alone, wandering from town to town to stay under the radar, not talking to anyone. You had come into his life like a whirlwind, changing everything, and, maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t want to lose that.

Losing Steve had already been enough. If you had died, too…

He shook the thought from his head. You were right here, holding his hand. Everything was going to be ok.

The doctor switched gears from checking your IV to taking out his stethoscope and placing it on your chest. He moved it around as he listened, instructing you on when to take deep breaths.

“Ok, that sounds good, too. The hoarseness in your voice should go away with time. Now we just need the rest of your injuries to heal, right? We should keep you here for a few more days to monitor your recovery. You were unconscious for quite some time.”

Bucky watched as you processed this. “Where is here?”

“You’re at the Philadelphia General Hospital.”

You nodded slowly. “You never told me your name.”

He was taken aback a moment, but smoothed his face over quickly. “I’m sorry, I thought I did. I’m Doctor Blake. You’ve been in my care since you arrived.”

Bucky looked between you and the doctor. He had said his name, and you were usually good with remembering names. He tried to fight the spike of panic. You had been through a lot and had just woken up. Maybe you hadn’t caught it.

He refocused on your face when you turned to look at him. “Bucky, I’m glad you’re here.”

He forced his face to stay relaxed as he answered. You didn’t usually say his name around strangers, either. You had codenames that you used. Maybe you thought the doctor knew who he was already. “I wouldn’t leave you behind, doll. Not ever.”

“What happened?”

It took Bucky a moment to answer. “Y/N, I told you, there was a car accident. You were hurt real bad.”

“Am I going to be ok, Doctor…?” You trailed off, a look of concentration on your face.

The doctor was trying to hide it well, but Bucky could tell he was concerned. He took the light from his pocket again, leaning forward to check your eyes. His voice was even as he answered. “Well, you have a lot of healing to do, but you should recover just fine.”

You let out a sigh. “That’s good.” You didn’t even comment that he had already looked at your pupils, and that concerned Bucky more.

“Mr. Y/L/N, can I have a word with you in the hall a moment?” Doctor Blake asked as he stood back to his full height.

It took Bucky a moment to shake off the confusion at your words and realize that he was being addressed. Using your last name as his while you were moving around had been your idea, and even though it had been months since he started using it, he still was not used to it. Especially since you weren’t actually dating like he wanted you to be. The pang in his chest probably would have been worse if you had taken his, but that hadn’t been an option. He was the one that needed to hide.

As he stood to follow, your grip on his hand only tightened. “You’re leaving?”

The fear in your wide eyes broke his heart. His free hand moved to your face on instinct, smoothing lightly over your cheeks and brushing your hair back from your face. “Just for a moment. I promise, I’ll be right back, ok?”

You nodded, your breathing slowing slightly.

“Want me to bring you back some water?”

“Yea. Yea, ok. Thank you.”

He squeezed your hand as he placed a light kiss to your forehead. He tried to tell himself the action was just him playing into the false persona of being married. Then he let go and turned to follow the doctor into the hall.

“Mr. Y/L/N, how long ago did you tell her what happened?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “Right after she woke up, while we were waiting for you.”

He nodded. “Does she normally have an issue with memory?”

“No, she normally has a great memory, actually.”

“And she remembered you without you prompting?”

“Right.”

“I see.”

“Is it normal for people to have memory issues after waking up like that?” Bucky had seen a lot of injuries in his time in the army – people losing their minds after coming back, horrific injuries on the battlefield or after, and the torture that he and others endured from HYDRA… but this was something he didn’t understand.

“Well, it can be. We will have to do some more tests, and give her some time. Naturally, she has suffered a brain injury from this accident, so it’s possible she is still healing, and the issue will go away.”

Bucky could hear his heartbeat in his ears. “Possible, but there are other options?” When the doctor didn’t continue, he pushed further. “Stop beating around the bush, sir. How bad is it?”

He looked over Bucky a moment, before sighing and continuing. “We could be dealing with a case of anterograde amnesia, which would, unfortunately, be permanent. Now, I am not the foremost expert on this matter –“ he rose his hands up, halting Bucky from speaking so he could continue – “but I have read several academic studies on the matter. If it does not clear up, it is likely going to be progressive.”

“I don’t understand what all that means.” Internally, he was afraid he did.

Doctor Blake pursed his lips, considering. “Anterograde amnesia is a condition where someone is unable to form new memories. We are still working to understand this, though, because some people seem to be able to remember some new things and just not everything, and there are others that remember no new information at all. As I said, I am not an expert, so if this ends up being the case, it is likely best to take her to a specialist on the matter.”

“And the progressive part?” Bucky was trying to keep his voice from wavering, but it betrayed his emotion.

The doctor looked at him more sympathetically then, and spoke more softly. “If the condition doesn’t resolve itself within the next couple of days, I am afraid the condition is permanent. She may not be able to form new memories at all, and it would become worse over time.”

All the wind left Bucky’s lungs. He didn’t know how to breathe. His miscalculation, his one moment of inattention on the road, led to this? You wouldn’t remember anywhere new that he took you, any new moments between you. And it was all his fault.

“Hey, we don’t know yet that that is the case.” The doctor placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky tensed, taking a step back. He hoped the doctor hadn’t felt the seam of his metal arm beneath the jacket. That would give him away surely as anything, and he was not going to do anything that made him had to leave you in this condition.

But if he noticed, the doctor made no show of it. “Let’s just take things one step at a time, alright? Keep an eye on her, and let me know if anything gets better. In the meantime, I will order some tests, and start looking into recommendations for specialists on the matter for you, just in case.” When Bucky nodded his understanding, the doctor turned and started making for the door at the end of the hall.

Bucky stood there a moment, processing, trying to get his own breathing under control. His heart was hammering in his chest. Of all the things that could have taken you from him, all the things he had night terrors about that had him waking in a cold sweat, searching for you in the room, this had not been one of them. This was worse – so much worse – because he was the one who did this to you.

He tried to cling to the doctor’s words that this might not be permanent as he went to get you water. He took his time, willing himself to calm down. It wouldn’t do you any good if he let you see him panicking.

When he re-entered the room, it all crashed back as he watched your face shift from panic and fear to relief. “Bucky! You’re here. Thank god,” you breathed out in a still-raspy voice. Your hand was over the call button. “What happened? Where are we?”

Before he could answer, a nurse walked into the room. “Everything alright?”

“She’s alright.” The nurse looked between the two of you, eyes narrowed. “She couldn’t remember you had already been here, I just got back into the room. Doctor Blake can explain,” he whispered low enough that you wouldn’t be able to hear.

There was that look of sympathy again. Was that an instinctual thing among doctors, or was that something that they were trained on? Either way, she exited the room without another word, shutting the door softly behind her.

“What did you say to her?”

Bucky didn’t have the heart to tell you what he knew – didn’t know the words – so he didn’t. “Just that she should go get the doctor since you just woke up.”

“Oh.” You looked around the room a moment. “How long have I been asleep?”

“A few days.” Bucky walked forward, taking a seat next to the bed again. “Here, you should have some water.” He handed it to you with one hand while twining the fingers of his other hand around yours.

“Thanks.” After several, painful-looking gulps of water, you set it down on your nightstand. “You didn’t answer my question, by the way.”

He took a deep breath around the stab of pain in his heart. “You’re in the hospital. You were in a car accident.”

“Oh. How long am I going to be here?”

“A few more days, probably. We’ll see what the doctor has to say.”

“Oh.” You stroked your thumb over the back of his hand, and his mind clung to that as he tried to sort out his thoughts. “Are you ok? You look tired.”

He smiled softly. “I am a little tired. Been up watching after you, I haven’t slept much.”

“You should sleep, then. I’ll be ok.”

He signed. “You’re right. I probably should.”

“Actually, could you… could you get me some water first? Or I can call the nurse for some.”

Bucky frowned. “Are you already out of water?” He jerked his chin in the direction of the cup on the nightstand.

You turned your head from him to look at it, but he still saw the confusion on your face. “Oh. I didn’t realize there was water there. Sorry.” You reached to the table to grab it.

He didn’t realize his heart could break so many times, so many ways in one day. He squeezed your hand, trying to reassure himself that you were alright, that the doctor was right, and this could be temporary, as he drifted off for a nap.

But as the days went on, nothing improved. He slept as little as possible, as every time, he awoke to you bring confused and scared in a way that shredded the inside of his chest. It made him never want to sleep again just so that you wouldn’t have to spend so much time wondering what was happening. When you had met a year ago, he promised you that you would never have to be afraid of anything, that he would make sure that you were safe. That he had put you in this position ripped and clawed at his heartstrings.

He went with you to every test, since that seemed to be the only way to keep you calm. He helped the doctors keep you on track with endless promises to explain everything later. Endless, because you forgot he had promised so quickly. He learned early on that telling you what was happening only led to mindless panic until you forgot again, so at every interruption to conversation where you would once again ask where you were and what had happened, he kept his answers brief. He didn’t know how long he was going to be able to stand how scared you seemed.

But you never forgot who he was. You remembered stolen moments on your travels, how you met, the things that you had been through together. He was grateful that none of those memories seemed to have faded, and it was the only thing that his mind had left to cling to.

On the fifth day after you woke, the hospital decided there was nothing left that they could do for you. Your injuries were all healing well, and there was nothing they could do for your mind that they hadn’t already done. They thought it would be better if you tried to heal somewhere that didn’t set off your anxiety every time that you forgot where you were. Doctor Blake had handed Bucky a list of names along with your discharge paperwork, an apologetic look on his face as he told him to take good care of you.

Bucky helped you get into the car that he had secured for the two of you, and then settled into the driver’s seat.

“Where are we going now?” You asked.

Where were you going to go? He looked to the list of names from Doctor Blake. He should take you to them, being responsible. But how long would it take with each doctor for them to come to the same result? That there was nothing to be done? Was that really how you would want to spend your days, endless test after endless test while not actually living?

No. He knew enough about you to know that that is not what you would want. You would want to explore, even if you were not going to be able to remember the time that you spent. You would want to see new things, spend time with Bucky. You had given up everything to be with him in the first place, and you made no secret to him that moments with him, even when hiding in an abandoned apartment building, sitting on the floor in front of a fire, were the happiest moments you had ever had. He had never understood why, but he knew how much it meant to you.

He wished you could heal like he could, and then this never would have happened.

He rose his head from the list, staring out the window blankly. That thought lead to another, giving him a new spark of hope to cling to.

The SSR may not have any supersoldier serum left, but he knew someone that did.

His palm started sweating, and he wiped it on his pant leg absently.

“Bucky? What’s wrong?” Your voice, thankfully no longer so hoarse, was riddled with nerves.

“No, nothing. Nothing.”

“Where are we going?”

“New Jersey. It’s nice there this time of year.”

He would wait to explain until you got closer. You would forget, anyway, if he told you, and he needed time to sort out the specifics in his own head.

Steve had trusted Peggy and Howard, enough that maybe he would be able to talk them into helping him. He may have to expose himself to the army again, maybe even re-enlist, but it was worth it if it meant he would have some help going after HYDRA. He knew the Howling Commandos were all still out there somewhere, and he was willing to bet they would be able to help, too. And there were doctors in the army that could look after you while he was gone. Peggy could make sure you were taken care of properly, he was sure.

He was going to get that serum. It may not work, but it was the least that he could do for you.

He put the car in drive, setting his foot gently on the pedal and started making his way back to his old life.

#the cards have spoken #writing #mcu #1940s!bucky #bucky x fem!reader

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mo-starz · 2 years ago

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Hi hello! I'm sorry to bother but I stumbled upon your blog and I might've gotten attached to Ezra & Malcolm (seriously though your art is so good!!!)

Could you please share some random information about them? I'm really interested in learning more about them

Of course, you don't have to answer and are completely free to ignore me! Have a great day/night!

Hello! I’m not bothered at all, i love talking about my characters a lot! And I haven’t talked about these boys in a while, i mess them lol. (And thank you for the compliment, im flattered!)

So… random information about Ezra and Malcolm…

Well firstly, they met when Malcom was a younger kid, maybe between 6 and 8 probably, i'm not the best with child ages, he would talk about his monster under the bed and then be confused when the other kids said theirs didn't talk with them.

Ezra is from a different sorta dimension but the boundaries can get a bit spotty in darker places. Ezra was just doing his own thing when he found one of those weak points right under Malcolm’s bed. Nearly scared both of them to death the first time but they were both much too curious.

Malcolm doesnt exactly have the best home life (yes, im one of those artists that make my ocs suffer. But not too much) so he spends a lot of time in his room talking to ezra. He tells him about things he does and places he goes and if ezra sometimes follows him in his shadow? What others dont know cant hurt them.

Ezra can go into the light, he just doesn’t like it. Malcolm prefers the dark anyways so it works out for both of them! And he’s had a sweet tooth ever since Malcolm had shared a cookie with him

Now, it is 5 am for me as of writing this, but have this little doodle of younger Malcolm and Ezra. I’m going to post this later because my silly little brain cant help but be nervous about answering my first ask. And i also feel the need to apologize for not seeing this sooner, usually im using my other account on a different device, oopsie-

#ask #ask mo #digital art #my art #art #artists on tumblr #oc #original characters #sketch #malcom #ezra #wow my first ask!#should i put the account as a tag?#cant hurt #onyxeverett

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tealfloyd · 2 years ago

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A COSTUME-SHIFTING HALLOWEEN

"MC's first Halloween ended up being disastrous a marvelous one~!"

SUMMARY: During the last day of Halloween, MC encounters a singular ghost who drags her to a confusing situation... (Everyone x Fem!Reader)

WARNINGS: Death mentions at the end, jealousy (?)

CONTENT: I didn't have any ideas for Ortho :( The ghost has a sad backstory, and, uh— That's it, I think. WORDS: 7K+

A/N: Okay, I know Halloween has already passed, but I got an excuse since this is a repost, so bear with me here :)

Some costumes were hard to describe, but I think they're not that bad. They're acceptable tier, I guess.

After this fic, everything else published will be the requests I've saved, so I ask for some time before starting to work on the new ones!

Now onto the fic~

Halloween was just around the corner, and you’re still trying to figure out what is happening.

It was a strange surprise when Grim and you returned to your dorm, not expecting to see it covered with paper and cloth; somehow looking a lot like a Ghost Festival entrance.

Lilia was on charge of the decoration placements, and while you were okay with it (it actually made the Ramshackle dorm look good), Grim was demanding an explanation for this.

After he got it, you wondered if everyone was doing the same thing, and now that you think about it, you haven’t seen any of the first years after class during the recent days; most likely preparing everything for the arrival of the spooky season.

It wasn’t till the next day that you got a more detailed explanation of how Halloween was celebrated here; your troublemaker friends being overly excited for this event, and you had to admit that the joy was contagious.

And you may be wondering: “will this finally be the event where the only requisite is to enjoy it and not engage in any unusual thing?”

And to answer that question, I must ask: “MC, are you really attending NRC if not?”

8 DAYS FOR HALLOWEEN

A week before Halloween arrived, a steering committee session was scheduled so everyone could show the work they’ve done so far, talking about the venue decoration and the costume related to it.

Since a stamp rally was going to be held, everything had to be in perfect condition for when the guests would come to visit.

You got to see every dorm’s venue location and costume, amazed by the amount of work and effort they’ve put into it.

Vil tried to make you a costume, but you declined, stating that you were okay without a one. He really wanted you to have one, fuming slightly when you refused again, the response being that you didn’t want to take advantage of him. At the end, he reluctantly agreed to it, understanding your position.

However, that idea changed (non-voluntary) when the last day of the Halloween week started.

THE LAST DAY OF THE HALLOWEEN WEEK

Before I narrate the occurrences that happened the last day, first I must narrate what happened through the entire celebration.

You visited every dorm’s venue periodically, just wanting to have a fun time with your friends and talking about how cool their costumes were, along with some compliments of your own costume, the one that the ghosts gifted you in spirit of Halloween.

Everyone was trying to beat everyone, non-literally, of course (well, most of them). More like they were trying to show off in front of you, looking to gain your attention and appreciation.

It didn’t work at the end because they were all your friends, and you genuinely appreciated every performance they’ve put since that meant they were trying their hardest, and as much as they love your thoughtfulness, they wished you could have chosen their dorm.

Overall, everything went great. You were surprised at the way some of them interacted with children, finding it cute as you continued to stroll with Grim, the little creature receiving a lot of attention because of the viral picture the ghosts posted some days ago, leaving you to wait aside. This, shockingly enough, made you feel at ease, since now you weren’t the only girl roaming in the campus, which was now filled with children and their parents and/or brothers.

However, you weren’t invisible to a certain ghost, who decided to approach after seeing you for some time.

“Why are we here again? We’re missing all the fun!” Whined Grim, his little paws making it difficult for him to catch up with your fast pace.

“We won’t be here for long, but if you really don’t want to be with me then I guess you can go and—“ He didn’t let you finish as he ran away, excited to be once again the centre of attention. “—Leave me alone… Just when you think they’re going to listen."

You shocked your head in disbelief, returning your gaze to the pond, looking for something.

“Hey, little fishes~ Where are you~?” You called, gaze tracing the water to see if they were hiding. “It’s me, so there’s no need to hide—"

“I see you’ve grown quite fond of these creatures."

The unknown voice startled you, and you backed away in surprise, almost falling into the water.

“Oh, thank the Sevens…” Exhaling in relief, you exclaimed. “You scared me!"

“Isn’t that the purpose of this event?”

It didn’t come off as a surprise to be spooked by a ghost; you’ve grown accustomed to it since it was Halloween, yet it did seem weird that this one was the one spooking you, thinking that it took advantage of your unawareness.

“Can I help you with something? I don’t have candy right now but if you wait, I can bring you some," you said, hoping that your words convinced her.

“Oh dear, I’m not looking for candy," you turned your head, furrowing your brows. “I was looking for you”.

Baffled, you pointed at yourself. “Me?”

“Indeed, I’ve noticed that you are the only female student here," she floated closer to you. “I wonder why~”

You sighed. “It’s a large story, but that doesn’t explain why you’re looking for me."

“Aren’t you afraid of me?”.

“If I’m being honest ma’am, I’m more scared of Lilia’s cooking than your presence."

“Well, that works for me~," she chuckled at your response, seemingly thinking about something. “Where did you get that Halloween costume?”

“This?” You signalled the costume. “My ghost friends made it for me, since Grim and I were the only ones without one."

“I see~” She inspected it, humming in disapproval as she checked every detail. “Some of the seams are incomplete, and the colour palette can be better…”

“Hey, what are you doing—"

“I’ve decided!�� The abrupt yell caught you by surprise, looking at her in shock. “You’re going to be my new muse, and your friend’s designs are the perfect way to start!”

Now you’re confused, completely and utterly confused, because you can’t comprehend what this ghost is talking about.

“Muse? I… I’m afraid I don’t understand…" You said, tone hesitant. “You shall not worry, dear! You will get it pretty soon!”

And with that final note, you seemed to have no other option than to let this ghost drag you outside the outings of the campus, floating towards Diasomnia’s location.

FIRST PARADE, DIASOMNIA: RAMSHACKLE DORM – A MIGHTY “LOONG”

The costume didn’t have any major changes on it; most of the original design was kept untouched, but what differentiated Diasomnia’s costume from this one is that it had a golden necklace, and in the centre of it was a shiny chrome diopside, the green gem contrasting with the solid colours of the entire outfit. But what did change was the head accessory, the hat being replaced by a golden crown, vaguely resembling a dragon.

“What are we doing here…?” You asked, seeing how everyone was walking around the intricate decorations.

“Now, stay still…” And just like she was using a magic wand, she started swinging her hand with grace and after some seconds and several sparks, she proudly smiled. “Done! Now tell me what you think!”

You looked down, surprised to see that your old costume was replaced with Diasomnia’s one, feeling somewhat conflicted. “I… I don’t know what to say…”

She took this as a good sign, happily exclaiming that she did an excelling job, attracting the attention of the visitors.

“Woah, look! It’s a ghost!”

“Is that girl part of the presentation? Her costume is so elegant~”

“She’s so pretty! Is she supposed to be an empress? The head ornament is really cool~!”

And with that, the people who were previously taking photos of the decorations now are asking to take photos with you.

The commotion being heard by the Diasomnia students, who approached to confirm everything was right.

Malleus is baffled. At first, he doesn’t know why you have a Diasomnia costume, but that thought is quickly forgotten as he steps closer to you, complimenting you in his unique way, accidentally making the visitors think that you were a couple. He doesn’t do anything to deny those claims, sighing sadly when you explain that you’re not, feeling slightly betrayed at that. He knows that you’re beautiful, and he understands the people who think the same, but he can’t help but apart you from anyone even the ghost that he thinks is too close, hiding you behind his intimidating form, leading you to calm him down so he wouldn’t scare the customers off. Sometimes, he wishes he could keep you safe in a tower. Just sometimes.

Lilia is enjoying the whole situation. He notices the female ghost that’s part of the “main show," and he guesses that maybe she could be the reason why you’re using his dorm’s costume he likes to play detective. He’s delighted with the design, saying some strange compliments that only Lilia would say, expressing his endearing feelings for you in a… Complicated manner, one that rivals Rook. He’s the first one that poses with you, happy to see your cute attempts as your fingers try to adopt a scary pose. He had to restrain Malleus at some point from hissing at a customer because he tried to flirt with you. He gets it, but he can’t let him hiss at anyone that tries to flirt with you!

Silver is the only normal person here, but in everyone’s defence, he’s the only person there. He compliments you too, yet it ends up sounding a bit… Frigid? He doesn’t mean it that way, you caught him, the normally collected Silver, off guard showing up with his dorm’s costume. His mind wanders from helping Lilia control Malleus, to you. He knows he shouldn’t be glancing at you; his priority is the sovereign of Briar Valley, but he supposes he can let himself be distracted when the life of his master is not in danger.

Sebek is yelling at you because “you didn’t get permission to use and change Diasomnia’s costume!” Shutting up after some seconds of this because of his master’s ominous glare. He doesn’t mean to appear so rude and the fact that he made Malleus angry is something that he would never forget, but how do you expect him to react after seeing you so… Empress-like? The royal aura you’re emanating makes him want to bow down before you and patiently wait for your orders, so that’s another bodyguard for you. He also sets aside anyone that is near you, accidentally blurting a: “haven’t you learn that royalty doesn’t interact with commoners!?” and now he’s a blushing mess, screaming: “I was talking about Lord Malleus, not you, human!”

Thanks to their unrequited actions, everyone mistook the scene as a comedy skit, fortunately helping their image because right now they’re a disaster.

They didn’t really ask about the ghost beside you, maybe a ‘why?’ and ‘what?’, but they’re pretty chill about it. Yes, even Sebek.

Lilia suggested that you all should take a selfie, and since Lilia’s the shortest he took it while floating, sending it to the group chat, most likely to annoy the other students.

As you were about to be engaged in another exhausting photoshoot with the visitors, the ghost decided that it was enough for you… In this costume.

She holds your hand, and you bid your Diasomnia friends goodbye as she leads you to the next location.

SECOND PARADE, HEARTSLABYUL: BOTANICAL GARDEN – A SKELETON GOTH LADY

The top was tight, the laces on it being identical as the original ones, while the cuffs were a bit more open. The pants were changed for a torn-up skirt, a little bit higher than the knee. Black stockings covered your legs, having a bone pattern so it would match with the skeleton concept. You didn’t had gloves, some white chains replacing them as they attached themselves to rings on every finger. Instead of a hat, you wore a skull pin on the side of your hair, a bit of black tulle added to it.

“The botanical garden, great… Why’re we here again?” You asked, a bit nervous because of the attention your costume was getting.

“My, haven’t you noticed? To change your costume, of course!” That easy going attitude wasn’t wearing off, and much less now that she’s got to see you as a source of “inspiration."

“My costume? Why? I thought it looked nice…”.

“It does! But my creativity has reached levels that I cannot ignore, so we will be changing your attire a few times today~," you couldn’t even have time to protest as she started doing the magic wand trick again, sighing at the lack of communication.

Once the magic was over, you looked down, seeing the new costume that resembled Heartslabyul’s skeleton idea.

“And…? What do you think~?” She asked, impatient for your answer.

“It’s—"

“Woah, look there! They’re holding a magic demonstration!”

“That’s such a cute costume! But I thought the students were the only ones using them?”

“I’ve heard that there’s a girl studying here, and to top it off she’s very pretty~”

“Oh no…” Indeed, here comes the photoshoot session again.

Riddle doesn’t even know where to start. He wants to scold everyone that it’s crossing your boundaries, and then he realises why it’s that. His face becomes redder than his hair, and he’s conflicted with his feelings because on one side, you look beautiful (he doesn’t understand why you’re using a Heartslabyul’s costume, but he guesses he can set it aside for now), and on the other side, some teenagers are getting too close to you, much to his and your like. He steps in, trying to be a good friend that helps another friend romantic interest, but he’s mistaken as a, and I quote, “loyal skeleton husband," Don’t worry MC, Cater’s been recording since the start of the interaction so you wouldn’t miss his flushed face. He ends up getting collared for that.

Trey chuckles, and you can’t help but think that Jade’s mannerisms had finally stuck to him. In reality, he’s doing it as a way to cover up his bashfulness, thankful of the veil covering his face. But that doesn’t mean he won’t tease you about it, saying some funny compliments in order to hide his flushed state. He’s the calmest out of the five when it comes to people approaching you, asking them to not invade your personal boundaries, his high figure making it easier for them to listen to him. He hears a comment that has him coughing out of the shock, stating that they wished they had such a gentle partner. You pat his back, completely worried because, Trey? Why’s your face so red?

Cater doesn’t know where to start; by the fact that you’re slaying in that costume or the fact that you’re using his dorm’s costume in the first place. He decides that is not important because the only relevant thing here is that you are using his dorm’s costume. He feels so proud as he announces that he was the one that came up with the original idea; not exactly this, but you know what he means. He’s the one that teaches you how to pose for photos with the visitors, snapping some quick selfies of you both and the rest of the students because it’s necessary, and no, he’s not taking any criticism. He posts it immediately, adding some fun captions and hashtags as he continues the photoshoot.

Ace remains quiet for five seconds, and you’re scared because you think he may mock you for using this. So, imagine your surprise when he muttered that you looked good in an unusual shy tone. The Ace Trappola complimenting you directly and with no teasing involved? It seems too good to be true, and it was as soon as you were about to say something nice too, he reverted to his normal personality and stated that it was because the costume itself made everyone look good. As some say, all good things must come to an end, so prepare yourself, because he’s going to tease you non-stop during your entire stance in the venue.

Deuce stays still, mind trying to elaborate the sentence he’s been meaning to say to you since some minutes ago. He’s so nervous that he ends up saying: “you look MC, beautiful." You laughed so hard that your stomach started to hurt, and the same thing happened to everyone else; even the visitors let out a chuckle at his innocent comment. He quickly tries to retract himself, blabbering that he didn’t mean it that way. He knows he just made the situation worse for him as you continue to laugh your ass off. Once you recover from the accidental joke, you tell him that’s fine, you understand what he meant by that. He’s relieved, but also concerned because he knows that Ace and his upperclassman are going to use this against him.

The whole scene seemed like a stand-up comedy show, the unintended funny comments made everyone think that it was a special performance since it was the last day.

Too bad for Deuce, now he’ll never hear the end of it because everything was recorded from start to finish. Don’t let him know that people are posting this, he’s not prepared.

Contrary to Diasomnia, they did ask about why you had a ghost accompanying you. You tried to explain them the situation, confusing them further. At the end you gave up because you didn’t understand it either, so you just dropped the topic.

After a few more photos, Cater took a surprise selfie, posing while everyone else was distracted. He also sent it to the group chat, with the captions: “Look who decided to join us~!”.

Not for long though, the ghost lady dragging you off to the following place while they were attending some customer, making them sad skeleton boys upon realisation.

THIRD PARADE, OCTAVINELLE: LABORATORY – A MUMMIFIED YOUNG RULER

Instead of the black shirt underneath the white button-up one, it had a crop top; a black harness belts covering it. An oversized white dress shirt was tucked into the skirt, some loose bandages wrapped around your waist, along with some leather belts to secure it. Your nails were painted black, and a boater hat was placed on top of your head, slightly tilted to one side.

“Are we visiting every venue because of your inspiration stroke?” You said, already getting tired of being dragged off.

“Now you’re getting the hang of it!” She exclaimed, stopping in front of the laboratory. “It’s time to change, aren’t you curious about my next work?”

“I would be lying if I said that I’m not."

She did her magic, and in a couple of seconds your costume had drastically changed; Octavinelle’s concept, you guessed.

“Do you feel comfortable in it? I don’t know if you like the top…”

“It’s fine, it’s not usually what I would wear but it’s comfy." Relieved, she exhaled, as if she could breathe for starters.

You were wondering if nobody saw you, and that thought vanished as you heard the now expected comments of the customers.

“Is that a ghost? She looks so cool!”

“And that girl over there, is she using a mummy costume?”

“Maybe she’s the female student everyone’s talking about!”

Both of you entered the laboratory, and that did nothing to soothe the stares and whispers; if something, it enhanced them.

Azul mind’s is multitasking. One part is processing the fact that you showed up, out of the blue, with a ghost and an Octavinelle costume; this is not something he can ignore, although he can’t ignore anything that has to do with you. And the other part is thinking of possible promotions for the Mostro Lounge with you on the cover; a businessman never stops being a businessman after all. He salutes you as always, cordially asking what brings you and your ghost companion there. Azul can be a great actor when the time requires it, and this is the time that really requires it; if he embarrasses himself in front of these amount of people, the tweels and you… Be certain he isn’t leaving his octopot anytime soon.

Jade knows that when something involves you, there’s always a twist, and what a charming twist you’ve made today. He’s entertained by this scene, softly chuckling as he puts on his best smile, greeting you with his gentlemanly demeanour. He’s checking your reactions at his planned compliments, finding all of them utterly adorable. The laboratory had a fair amount of people before you arrived, but since you showed up the visitors have been doing the same; and for this situation he has a subtle way to make the customers apart from you, and by subtle I mean scaring them off with “discreet” threats and a sinister close-lipped smile.

Floyd’s mood is constantly changing from happy to hostile. Happy because of you appearing with his dorm’s costume on and with a ghost; just when he thought his Shrimpy wouldn’t get more interesting! He’s stuck to you like a koala to a bamboo tree, happily talking until someone asks for a picture, and that’s when the hostile mood comes; he can’t stand anyone that comes near you in a ‘flirtatious’ manner, ominously looking down at them. You have to distract him with funny comments so he wouldn’t squeeze anyone, but there’s definitely an unspoken condition there: he’s going to appear in every picture taken, no complaints.

They’re lucky you visited two dorms before theirs, because if not people would start to suspect that maybe anything of this wasn’t planned at all.

At this point, everyone saw the two videos that went viral on Magicam, Lilia and Cater’s courtesy, which had the only female student at NRC magically changing her costumes with the help of a friendly ghost.

The three of them had seen the photos sent to the group chat, but Floyd was the one that spoke out loud, placing the phone real high, kind of not giving time for you to pose appropriately.

He sent it immediately, bragging off about the fact that they had the coolest selfie, creating a discussion under his message, giving start to a selfie war,

The ghost lady noticed the behaviour of the sly students, and so she took the advantage when they were distracted to drag you off there to continue her inspiration spree.

Less to say that they weren’t very happy about this.

FOURTH PARADE, SCARABIA: SAM’S SHOP – AN ARABIAN WEREWOLF PRINCESS

The main thing that differentiated this costume from the original is the top, which was red with some golden patterns on it, a translucent material covering your belly, same thing with the long sleeves. The pants were still baggy and white, a golden chain wrapped around your waist. You had a water drop head chain, making it easier for you to wear the wolf ears, while the clawed gloves were replaced with long, black nails.

“We shouldn’t have done that, now they’re going to look for us," you sighed, already thinking about the outcome.

“Don’t be silly, it would take a while for them to find us in this crowd," she seemed accustomed to it, and you don’t know if you should feel relieved or scared.

“I got lost in the mall once while shopping with Jade and Floyd, and they found me two minutes later. Two!"

“I know a thing or two when it comes to escaping~" Scared, that’s how you feel right now.

“I—" You thought for a second before re-doing your sentence. “What do you have planned for Scarabia?”

“I’m sure you would love this one!” She spoke with so much confidence that you were getting excited about this, staying still for the transformation.

Once it occurred, you were happy with the outcome, speaking your thoughts of it before she even asked. “This one’s great! How do you make these costumes?”

“You can say it’s my speciality~”

“Did they invite a princess?”

“I think she’s the female student of the videos; her werewolf costume is so cute!”

“MC!”

Oh, that was a different one.

Kalim acts like a puppy every time he sees you, all giddy and if he had a tail, it would be wagging. He was surprised to see you appearing in a different costume, and he happily complimented you, not realising at first that it was based off his dorm’s costume and not one of your ideas. You present him to your fashion ghost, who instantly loved his carefree personality, stretching hands with big smiles on their faces. It was cute, and that was a common sentiment as everyone asked for a photo; the supposedly ‘scary’ expressions only gained more attention, making Jamil act as a guardian for you both.

Speaking of Jamil, you thought he was mad at you for something since he didn’t say anything from the moment you arrived. He’s perceptive, so he probably knew this from the concerned look you unconsciously sent at him, muttering a small: ‘It suits you’ after. You don’t get to see his face since he’s hiding it, but you don’t mind, glad that you didn’t make him mad. As if you could make him mad in the first place; if anything, your presence makes him feel at ease, and he would’ve said something else if it weren’t because of the fact that you were dressed like an Arabian werewolf princess and the amount of people surrounding you right now.

Kalim already attracted the people, his cuteness being the cause of it. So, add to the formula you, the dress-shifter with a stylish ghost, and that equals: More people.

Jamil literally acted like a bodyguard, trying to control the crowd as you both posed for more pictures.

At some point, Kalim gave his phone to a girl and kindly asked her if she could take a picture of you three. She complied, shuttering a few photos until she was satisfied with the last one.

It was the typical best friend group photo; the lively Kalim, the annoyed Jamil and the one that’s in the middle, you.

Everything was fine until you heard a loud yell, which screamed: “Shrimpy~!” And that was the moment the ghost knew it was time to go.

FIFTH PARADE, SAVANACLAW: COLOSSEUM – A SOPHISTICATED CAPTAIN

The coat was larger than the original one, almost touching the floor; the ends were a bit thorn, but it was considered more elegant than the boy's version. You wore a fancy shirt, which was under a leather, black vest; you also wore the same pants, just a little higher and tighter. You wore several silver rings, and high leather boots. You didn't have an eyepatch though; what you did have was a pirate hat, with golden feathers neatly placed on it.

“Hey— Wait! You’ll make them angry!” You could barely stand by how fast she was floating, and you swore you were floating too because you couldn’t feel the ground.

“We are short on time; we don’t have time to worry about them!”

“But they’re 6’2! And Floyd can do parkour. It’s a matter of time before they find us!” Without context, it would seem like you both were escaping from the mafia; and with context… It’s the same, but for different reasons.

“You’re right!” She abruptly stopped, leaving you to fall face first on the sand of the colosseum. “This is the perfect situation for the next costume!”

“That’s what you’re thinking about? My personal space's on the line here!” You yelled, spitting the sand that got in your mouth.

“Shhh!” Shushing you, she helped you get up, doing once again the costume transformation. “There! Aren’t you the prettiest pirate here~”

“It does fit the context, though—”

“I didn’t know the Savanaclaw dorm had pretty girls~”

“I don’t think they do, maybe she’s the student from the videos.”

“She’s such a cool pirate~ I’m going to ask for a picture!”

“When will this end…?“

Leona was napping inside the boat in a secluded place, but he got up after hearing the commotion outside. He tried to sleep again, but the noise was too much for his sensitive audition, so he went to investigate the source of it. Less to say that he froze in place after seeing you; ‘why are you using a pirate costume’ and ‘what is a ghost doing beside you’ are some of his questions. He walked up to you, asking why you are wearing that, an unconscious smirk travelling up his features. He didn’t mean it in a bad way, it’s just his way to express interest, and you seem to get it because you thanked him. You drop the topic and explain the situation, and he’s baffled because he doesn’t get how you understand his actions yet don’t realise he’s in love with you, like, how does that even work?

Ruggie chokes. He was drinking water since his throat was starting to get dry after so much talking, and that’s when he saw you. He makes enough noise for you to notice, so you try to help him, unintentionally making it worse. Once he’s done with the coughing, he asks why you’re using his dorm’s costume; he didn’t understand the explanation, maybe because he was busy staring at you. He knows he has to say something, so he compliments you; not directly though, saying that the costume looked good. You agreed, toying with the golden buttons of the coat, failing to see his flushed face. Good, because if you did, he would have to lie, and his mind can’t elaborate a lie right now.

Jack was absent for the majority of your stay, returning from Sam’s because Ruggie asked him to bring some snacks. He did hear something about a female student changing costumes, but he didn’t imagine it was you at first, thinking that maybe a girl was taking advantage of the rumours. Now he knows that he was wrong. You spoke to him first, even retrieving his bags so you can place them aside, all while people still ask you for pictures. He only begins to move when they start to cross the line, hiding you behind him so you could take a breath from the sudden fame like a good friend would do, and not a boyfriend like the customers think- Wait, a boyfriend, your boyfriend? All the efforts he made to not blush go out of the window as his tail wags and his cheeks become red.

The visitors in Savanaclaw were more controlled than those in the other dorms since you had three scary beastmen by your side Ruggie can be scary, I’m sure of it, literally, and that reduced their shoving and overall craziness.

The idea of taking the photo was from your ghost companion, seeing that none of them brought it up.

It ended up being a pretty funny photo. A boy snuck behind you all, and before he could even pose, Leona grabbed him by the collar. Jack tried to set free the poor teenager, Ruggie was laughing, and you still stood there in the middle, smiling to the camera.

There wasn’t a second chance, she liked it too much to delete it, instead sending it to the group chat.

She decided it was enough fun for this venue and continued to the next one.

SIXTH PARADE, IGNIYHDE: LIBRARY – A MYSTERIOUS PUMPKIN DAME

Ignihyde's costume wasn’t changes in the slightest, it was the same black and neon blue armour, just that yours was adjusted so it would fit you. But instead of the greenish pumpkin head that Idia had, you had an orange one. The face in this one also changed, with mischievous eyes and sharp teeth forming a terrifying smile.

“Can I ask you a question?” You said, tilting your head to look at her.

“But of course, dear! What do you want to know?”

“Why me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not really an interesting person, and I’m sure there are a lot of people who are more befitting of these clothes than me."

“I see… Well, that is a topic I would discuss later, when I depart, but you were my only option for this, and I sincerely mean it," instead of the cheerful tone she always spoke with, she had a nostalgic one replacing it.

“Okay…” You both didn’t talk for a few minutes, only conversing again when you arrived to the library, a crowd of people inspecting the place. “Are you going to turn me into a knight?”

“Not a knight, dear. A dame!” She made her magic, and soon enough you had a new, shiny armour and a pumpkin helmet, unaware of how scary it looked. “How does it feel? Replicating that boy’s technology is extremely difficult, so I tried to make it as light as possible”

“It’s not too heavy, but this thing surely is suffocating me," removing it from your head, you organized your hair, a bit squashed because of the sudden pressure.

That movement was enough to get you a whole fan club.

“Kyah! Who’s she? She’s so cool~!”

“Right? She must be the girl that’s trending on Magicam, she’s prettier in person~”

“Who needs a prince? I want this girl to rescue me.”

“Wow, they’re getting more creative."

Idia first thought that a devoted fan of “Pumpkin Hollow” appreciated his work and decided to show up as the character to show his respect. He didn’t expect to see you out of all people but consider him a part of your fan club with that hair movement. His hair becomes pink, and he tries to deviate the conversation from your costume to the movie. To be honest, he felt betrayed when he knew that you didn’t watch the movie at first, yet he knows he can’t blame you because you were isekai’d into this world, so he asked you if you wanted to watch it. He thinks you loved the movie just as much as him, but when you told him that your new ghost friend made it for you he deflated a little. Not for long when you told him that you did like the movie, already planning a marathon for you and Ortho to watch.

Going to Ignihyde was fun from the start. I mean, sure, some of the people were annoying, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable.

At some point, you acted a bit, reciting a few lines of the movie that you remembered, making the visitors intrigued about the movie, muttering that they were definitely going to watch it Idia thinks he’s in love with you.

For the selfie, you took two: one with the helmet and one without the helmet. Idia wanted to delete the helmet-less one, but you pressed send before he could finish the sentence plead.

It was getting late, and you knew that the next location was going to be the last one, so you took the initiative and told the ghost (that suddenly became more thoughtful) that it was time to move, and so you both exited the library.

SEVENTH PARADE, POMEFIORE: MIRROR CHAMBER – AN ENCHANTING VAMPIRE COUNTESS

The Pomefiore costume really had major changes; you wore a Victorian dress, which had the same pattern and colours as the original, a black sash covering your waist. The cape had the same design, a bit larger so it could embellish the shape of the dress. You didn't have any accessories besides your black gloves. Your makeup was also done; a dark eyeshadow and lipstick complimenting your skin.

She did the transformation with no funny puns and old-styled jokes, and you thought something was… Off.

“Are you okay?” You said, calmly walking towards the mirror chamber.

“Of course, I’m okay. Why the sudden question, dear?” She replied, a forced smile making her way past her lips.

“You seem a bit… Sad." She widened her eyes at this, lips forming a gentle smile after a couple of seconds.

“It’s nothing to worry about, dear. This will be over soon."

“Huh—?”.

The usual three comments you got used to were replaced by the voices of your distressed (except Rook) friends, looking for an explanation as soon as you arrived.

“Potato! What’s the meaning of this?”

“Ma chérie, I’m glad you’re finally here!”

“I can’t believe we were your last choice…”

Vil felt offended and outraged. How can you decline him making you a costume, but you so gladly accept the same offer from an unknown ghost? He does realise he shouldn’t be mad at you; he doesn’t know if you gladly accepted after all, but he can’t help but feel betrayed. And you didn’t come visit them first; you know he’s a beauty guru, why would you hide this from him? He found out when checking his Magicam, the trending topic being: “NRC female student magically changes costumes with the help of a friendly ghost!” He calms down, not wanting to get a pimple out of stress; he does think the costume is great, sure, there are a few errors here and there, but nothing he cannot fix.

Rook is delighted. This man would praise you if you used a trash bag as a dress, so imagine the amount of compliments you’re getting from him using his magnifique dorm’s costume! He found out too when he was asking Vil something, strangely zoned out, so he decided to see whatever had him so mesmerized; but if isn’t his belle prefect! Of course Roi du Poison would be enchanted by this! He patiently waits for you to come visit, hopefully with a new costume based off his dorm, and he sure wasn’t disappointed! He even thanks the ghost at some point for enhancing your effortless beauty, and then he just straight up starts confessing in French. He knows you don’t know French, but he enjoys seeing you so confused as you try to decipher what the hell he just said.

Epel is also offended. MC! You’re one of his best friends and romantic interest and you decide to visit him last? How could you? He starts lightly scolding you, and in the middle of it, he shuts up, noting that you were indeed using your own version of his dorm’s costume. He becomes so red that he’s not a vampire anymore, he’s a tomato. Because of this, he lets you be, uttering a small compliment while looking away, not wanting you to see his blushing face. You get distracted by Rook, and he silently thanks him as he organises the stand; the gratefulness doesn’t last long because, well, it’s Rook, and Vil also added himself to the conversation, fixing a few details of your costume. He groans, discreetly commenting something so you would talk to him too.

The Mirror Chamber didn’t have any customer, and you felt a sense of relief washing over you. People would start calling you names if they noticed that you were friends with Vil, and you didn’t need that right now.

Since this was the last venue, you stayed with them until they finished cleaning, helping a little as you couldn’t really move freely in the dress.

You all went out, taking a break before returning to their respective dorms to prepare for the upcoming party, clearly taking a selfie before it which ended up winning the contest because Vil was the one who took it.

You were almost spotted by the tweels, but manage to hide before they saw you, carefully running with your friend towards your dorm.

Once you got there, she made her magic again, transforming the dress into a simpler one, white with some flowers on it, all while a heavy sigh leaving her mouth.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, now concerned because of this.

“MC, you know why I chose you for being my muse?” The sudden question caught you off guard, and you shook your head in response. “I had a daughter, just like you: young, beautiful, and had this charisma that made every head in the room turn into her direction. Truly a charm."

You stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. “I was a fashion designer when I was alive; I rarely saw my daughter, maybe once or twice in the week, and that if I had time."

“She got sick one day. I thought it was sudden, but the doctor said that it had been going for months, and that she had only a few ones to live. It turned out, it wasn’t like that."

“One week later I was rushing to the hospital, carrying her in my arms because she collapsed."

You guessed the end, but that didn’t stop the feeling of dread. “She died that day, and I couldn’t even tell her that I loved her…”

“I’m sorry…" You muttered, not knowing what else to say.

“When I saw you, I saw her; smiling and living contently with no worries, as if she was fine and healthy," she stopped to look at you in the eyes, and asked one more question. “Do you know why I’m a ghost?”

Your eyes widened in shock, and you shook your head again. “I promised her I would dress her with beautiful clothes; I promised her that I would be there …”

“Do… Do you mean that—"

“I think that this day may have given me the chance to encounter her again… That you gave me the chance to encounter her again."

“I…” You stopped for a brief moment, a warm smile forming on your lips. “Thanks for today. I really hope you can meet your daughter again."

She chuckled, slowly vanishing as she stroked your hair affectionately. “You’re such a kind girl. Those boys are lucky to have you."

And with that, she disappeared completely, white sparks fading as silence invaded the room.

You felt something wet on your cheek, only realising after touching it that you were crying.

“Henchman! Ace told me the party’s already starting! We better get there before they run out of food!“ Grim said, abruptly yelling as he passed the opened door.

“Yeah, sure, just, uh— Give me a minute…" Hurriedly wiping your tears, he stood there dumbfounded and concerned.

“Are you crying?” He asked, frowning in confusion.

“I’m okay, it’s just that… I remembered something” You smiled in order to ease him up, knowing that down deep his egoistic façade, he was worried about you.

And it worked, since he scoffed, quickly changing the topic as you two walked towards the location of the party.

There was one thing that she was right about, they were very lucky to have you, but you were just as lucky as them.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

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dilf-whore · 2 years ago

Text

my kind of girl (part 5)

previous || next

pairing: billy hargrove x f!reader

genre: friends to lovers! , fluff

summary: you grow closer and closer with the redhead you tutor… and maybe with her stepbrother too

A/N: part 5! sorry it’s pretty short but i hope you guys still like it nonetheless. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! alsooo this would probably be an 8-part series 😗. thoughts/comments are also appreciated! send in requests too 💗

requested: no

requests are OPEN

masterlist

・°☆

A few days has passed and the middle school’s Snow Ball is coming up, leaving Max all jittery and excited. Billy would often spot her in front of the mirror trying on some jewelries or go through her hair and do a bunch of hairstyles.

Meanwhile, you and Billy have grown closer, he’s technically attached to your hip. Despite judging eyes around you, everything just seem alright whenever you’re with him - you really enjoy his company. He’d wait for you outside the classroom and grab your bag for you. He would also find himself quickly smiling like a fool whenever he sees you. The past few days were nothing but pure bliss for Billy. He can’t seem to point it out but, he sure does feel some odd things he never felt around a girl before.

It was lunch time, you and Billy were sitting across each other as he talks about his life back in California. “You know, I’m a pretty good surfer” he says, taking a bite from his food. “That’s so cool! You used to go to the beach often huh?” you ask as you place both your elbows on the table, resting your chin on the back of your hand. “Uh-huh, my mom would bring me there and we’d just - have lots of fun” he replies.

You take a sip from your juice box and lean closer towards Billy, “tell me more about her”. His body perks up, you smile as you see his beautiful blue eyes suddenly twinkle.

“Well first of all, she’s gorgeous of course i got my handsome face from her! she’s so supportive, and caring. There’s this one time...” You watch him talk about his mom with his whole heart, hands making gestures - moving from one place to another, your food already forgotten as you both got so invested.

He grabs his wallet in his pocket and takes out a photo of him and his mom. “That’s her” he points at the blonde woman. You hold the picture, fingers brushing against each other, “she’s gorgeous Billy. You both look so happy here”

・°☆

The night of the Snow Ball finally comes and you’re at Max’s room doing her beautiful red curls. You braid the front part of her hair and bring it to the side to show her face more. You clip it in place, earning a soft “ow” from her.

“Sorry, had to make it a little tight so that it won’t get ruined” you say as you apply a little blush on her freckled cheeks. You hold her by her shoulders and make her face the mirror, “you’re so pretty” you compliment. An awkward smile forms on her face, not used to being dolled up.

“Thanks Y/N. Still feel weird with this hair and face stuff, but I still love it though. I appreciate it”

A soft knock is heard and you signal the person to come in. Billy opens the door and stares at Max - a smile threatening to form but he’s too shy to do so, “you look great, Y/N did a good job” he finally say. “Ready to go?” he asks.

・°☆

Billy parks beside the middle school gym, Max hops out of the car and goes to you and his step brother, “are you sure that you’re really okay with waiting here the whole night?” you nod in response. “Especially you?” Max adds as she points at Billy, remembering how he’d leave her behind if she’s late even for a minute. But, that was before he learned how to be patient, “yes, I’m sure” he replies.

“Okay then” she says as she runs off, waving you both goodbye.

“so... what should we do while we wait?”

You go in front of Billy with a grin, “we can dance” you suggest.

ABBA’s Dancing Queen is playing in the background and you start swaying your body side to side and move your arms to the beat. He puts his weight on his car, crossing his arms as a small giggle escapes from his lips. You continue to dance along and do twirls from time to time, Billy watches your hair flowing perfectly as you move and your figure being perfectly lit by the moonlight.

"You’re so pretty” he mumbles to himself.

・°☆

taglist: @slytherinintj13 @shatfairy @ribyourtoplip @1950schick @stephhevring @uglynuggy45 @sincerelii @jelly-donuts @eddiemunsonsbitch86 @mess-in-side @ineedtherapypleaseomg @koroktsuya @anitatvd @piizzaprincesss @cherriebat @gloryekaterina @younxii @angelbbygrl @inprixssss13 @variety-fangirl @loudbluepancake @xcallmetaniax @ainhoamunson @fanatics30 @daddysfavoritesexkitten @mochamori @squishiejiminiee @yellenabelovaa @glxwingrxse

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things headcanons #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things scenarios #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove headcannons #billy hargrove scenarios #dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery x reader

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cosmiclove-heavenstruck · 3 years ago

Text

Dance Lessons | Harry James Potter

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Wordcount: 12200 words (Yes, really. Do you ever just start to write a little oneshot and then it turns out as a fic with over 10000 words?)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, sexual tension but no smut, fluff, slight angst, slow burn i guess

Summary: Harry asks you to teach him how to dance for the upcoming Spring Ball.

a/n: Set in Harry’s sixth year. English is not my native language, so there might be spelling/grammar mistakes. (The beginning is inspired by this oneshot)

Not many could say that they had faced Voldemort more than once and had survived, but Harry Potter was one of the few lucky ones that had gotten away every time. And if that wasn’t enough, Harry had defeated horrifying creatures, had broken into the Ministry and had saved the wizarding world several times – more or less accidentally, but hey. He had dealt with Umbridge and fought Death Eaters.

To the world, he was a hero, he was the Boy Who Lived.

So yes, his record of fighting the evil was quite impressive for a sixteen-year-old. But there was one thing he knew he would never impress anyone with and that were his dance skills.

Because Harry Potter couldn’t dance for shit.

Everyone who had watched his poor attempt at a waltz at the Yule Ball knew it had been an embarrassing disaster, and a blessing when he had stopped – merely for Parvati Patil’s feet.

Everyone who had watched knew that Harry Potter had never before set foot on a dancefloor. And you had watched. You had watched with great interest because secretly, you had wished for him to ask you to the ball. But when there had been only two weeks left and Dean Thomas had asked you after Transfiguration class, you had said yes.

There you were, sitting with Dean beside Seamus and Lavender as well as Ron and his date Padma, your eyes glued to the raven-haired boy getting terribly out of step. You watched, of course, under the pretence that you found it disgracefully hilarious.

Harry had never thought about asking you to the Yule Ball, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been after Cho, and he waited way too long to ask her, so she was already going with Cedric. And you had a date with Dean.

As good as Harry was with fighting the dark and the evil, as bad was he with social interactions. He had no problem producing a Patronus, but he was absolutely useless when it came to talking to girls.

You were the opposite.

Yes, the boggart may had made you faint in front of your whole class, but on the other hand, talking seemed like the easiest task in the world. Whether it was a chat with a teacher or speaking to strangers, though you did not thrive off of that.

There was one other thing that made you stand out to the other girls (and boys) in your year: You knew how to dance, from a simple disco fox to a more complicated waltz.

So, when Professor Slughorn announced a Spring ball for the students in sixth and seventh year, Harry knew you were his only chance if he did not want to make a fool out of himself again. He asked you (after a whole week of practicing in front of the mirror), with heated cheeks and a fast-beating heart, if you could teach him how to dance.

You felt a bit taken by surprise by this request, but agreed, nonetheless.

Friday evenings, eight to nine o’clock, were now reserved for your weekly dance lessons.

Looking at Harry’s history, it should be no big deal to dance with a girl when you had already come across the most dangerous things existing in the wizarding world. He should not be nervous; what was the girl teaching you how to dance against gigantic spiders who saw you as their dessert?

Well, everything.

The thing was, Harry could prepare spells and charms, he knew what he had to do when he was faced with a Dementor or a Boggart. His mind, however, went completely blank when it came to you, like his nerves were on fire. To say he was nervous was an underestimation.

Harry ran his hand through the mess of black locks in a rather useless attempt to flatten them. They jumped back up immediately as he let go, pointing in every direction but the one he wanted them to. Stupid genes.

Sometimes he wished he had inherited his mother’s hair. It would have been fun to be mistaken as a Weasley and he could pretend he and Ron were actually brothers.

To keep his hands busy, Harry smoothened the plaid shirt he had thrown on before darting another glance at the clock over the door of the abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. 8:01 o’clock.

His fingers drummed against the wooden desk he was leaning on to release his excited tension, which only worked until the door opened, and he jumped up into a straight position.

You stepped inside, a vinyl clammed under your arm and an apologizing smile on your lips.

“Sorry I’m late, Snape held me off,” You said, placing your bag on the table Harry had leaned on previously.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Uh, are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. I mean Snape just almost failed my assignment, but I found a new song to dance to, and I’m pretty sure you’ll like it,” You said as you rushed over to the old vinyl player in the corner and unwrapped the black record.

Harry followed your every movement. You could feel his eyes on you and bit down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

“It’s a bit slower than the other one, so it will be easier for you to follow,” You added and pulled the vinyl out, stroking a streak of Y/H/C hair behind your ear, your back still facing him.

When the record was placed correctly into the player, you turned back around and led Harry by the hand to the middle of the classroom. This simple touch alone made Harry’s head spin, and it did not help when you placed his hand onto your waist.

“Are you ready?” You asked and he nodded. “Good, follow my lead.”

There was nothing but admirable beauty, the way you moved to the soft piano music filling the room, Harry thought, and he hated himself for not realising sooner. You were like a sunset, and he was afraid to look right at you because what if you saw all the feelings swelling in his heart that dared to overspill at any moment.

You had been right, he adored the music you had brought with you, but he adored you even more.

You thought he looked at his feet because he was afraid to mess up the steps.

“Hey,” You said softly, taking the hand from his shoulder to lift his chin. “Eyes up.”

“Yes. Right. Sorry.”

A sheepish smile spread over his face and your heart beat hectically against your rip cage as his emerald green eyes met yours.

It took Harry a great deal of strength to not break out of the dance routine he had so intensely studied and kiss you. But your hand slipped away from under his chin back to his shoulder and the moment was lost, like so many others.

Staying professional was not so simple for you either, as much as you liked to deny it. You liked Harry, more than friends should like each other, but who could blame you? Harry was very handsome, with his messy hair and those green eyes, he was sweet and caring, and he was dancing with you in an abandoned classroom, his hand on your waist.

Looking at it from this angle, there seemed to be no reason as to why you were so careful to deny your feelings.

Well, there was one problem: You thought he wanted to ask Cho to the ball to make up for the Yule Ball.

Harry was pretty oblivious when it came to love. Neither had he thought about you as more than friends before sixth year, nor had he realised that the feelings he had felt for Cho two years ago were similar to the ones he had for you now, though they were much more intense.

The worst part was that you two had been friends for three year and since then, you had spent a week of every summer holiday at the Burrow. Harry knew you; he knew that you liked his crappy jokes and his sarcastic comments, but never before had his stomach tingled when you laughed at them. Never before had there been goose bumps all over his skin when you hugged him. And to hell, never before had he acknowledged how goddamn beautiful you were.

“You’re getting really good.” You ripped him out of his thoughts.

“Oh. Really?” He asked.

It would be brilliant if he could dance without thinking about it all the time, fearing he could step on your feet.

“Yes, really,” You replied, grinning.

“Well, I- I suppose I have a good teacher.”

The piano music faded out and you stopped in the middle of the room, slipping your hand out of his. It was a good excuse to turn around and start the vinyl again, so you did not have to answer anything.

Harry stood there for a second, gulping and scratching his neck. He should not have said that.

What he had said flattered you, but it was only a knife dressed like compliment, stroking over your heart to stab you right after. All of this was amicable, temporary, fickle. All of this was for Cho.

You sat the needle back on the record.

“What’s it called? The song, I mean,” Harry asked quietly.

“‘Il Reste du Temps’. The rest of time.” You walked back up to him and took his hand, leading you two into the dance. With his hand on your lower back, he pulled you a bit closer than last time.

“So, there are only two weeks left. You have asked Cho by now, I suppose?” You asked to remind your thoughts of reality.

Harry narrowed his eyebrows, not sure how you had come to the conclusion he still liked Cho. She was great, for sure, but she wasn’t you.

“Oh. Uh, not really, no,” He answered. Your heart jumped.

“Well, you should hurry up. You don’t wanna wait until last minute like last time.”

“I- yeah, I mean, I don’t- I don’t want to go with Cho.”

You stepped forward even though you were supposed to draw back and stomp on his left foot. His hand around yours clenched for a second at the sudden pain.

“Shit. Sorry.” You quickly brought you two back into the right footstep order. “You’re not asking Cho?”

“No. I wanna- No.” Harry stopped himself from talking any further. He couldn’t ask you. He just couldn’t.

“Well, who do you wanna ask?” You said.

Maybe it was Ginny. She was gorgeous, phenomenal at Quidditch and in the Slugclub. Nothing you could say about yourself.

Harry opened his mouth and stammered. “It’s, uh, you know…some…girl.”

Oh yes, great save, Harry, congratulations, He thought to himself, couldn’t be any vaguer, could you? For Merlin’s sake, look at her, she is completely confused.

You were pretty even when you were confused, with your eyebrows drawn together over your eyes curiously inspecting him – Stop.

“Ah, okay. The lucky girl’s a secret,” You said, laughing lightly. It was definitely Ginny.

“No, I mean, she’s –”

“It’s not my concern who you’ll ask, Harry,” You interrupted to calm him down. “As long as you ask her.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that. You really saw them just as friends.

The two of you danced for a while and Harry tried to memorise every golden speck in your dark eyes, every freckle, every curve, just so he could imagine you instead of the person he would dance with in a fortnight. If he would even go. Because what point was there to go to a ball if the one person he wanted to dance with more than anything else would not be there with him?

You tried to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. But the voices crowding your mind all shouted that he would never see you the way you saw him. That his face would never be so close ever again. That his hands would never rest on your body the way they did now, and never with any other intention than for the sake of learning how to dance, learning how to impress Ginny or whoever he would ask.

“Have you – have you asked anyone yet? To go to the ball with you?” Harry disrupted your thoughts and pulled you back into reality.

“No. I don’t even know if I’ll go,” You said and Harry’s heart dropped. “I mean, I’ll come to watch you dance, that’s for sure.”

Now his heart was way up in his throat, beating like hell. He swallowed and forced himself to answer. “No pressure then.”

You grinned at his comment. “Oh please, you can dance better than most of sixth and seventh year combined by now. You remember the spin I showed you last time?”

Harry nodded. He lifted his left arm and put a little pressure on your waist. You performed a small twirl before he caught you again, hand on your side. He smiled proudly.

“Really good.” The music stopped and you looked at the clock on the wall behind Harry. 8:57 o’clock. “I guess that’s it for today.”

Harry smiled sadly but you thought it was just your mind, playing you a trick. You packed the record back into the cover while Harry shouldered his back bag, handing yours to you. Then he held the door open for you, and you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway.

Harry had already pulled out the Marauders Map to check if the way back to the Gryffindor tower was clear. You weren’t technically allowed out after nine p.m. because of the new safety measurements, but it was part of the charm.

“Filch’s down on the first floor and Snape’s in his office,” Harry informed you.

“Okay.” You nodded.

Quietly and side by side, you two walked back to the Gryffindor tower. There was plenty of silence to break, plenty of time to ask you to the ball, Harry thought. But he was too afraid.

–

“It’s not that easy, alright?”

“Bloody hell, you spent every Friday evening with her! Half of our year thinks you’re secretly doing it in that classroom.”

For that, Ron earned a jab into his ribs. The two made their way through the masses of students down the last staircase to the Great Hall.

“Ow! It’s not my fault, you can’t open your mouth.”

“Oh, I can’t open my mouth? Have you asked Hermione yet?”

Harry was sure this would shut Ron up, but he was wrong.

“I asked her six weeks ago and she said yes, mate.”

Harry stopped in his tracks, stunned. “Wot?”

“Merlin, do you ever listen to me?”

Ron shook his head, walking to breakfast. Harry needed a few seconds before he could move again, then he caught up with his best friend. He was about to say something back when Ron’s sister Ginny interrupted them, wrapping her arms around both of Harry and Ron’s shoulders.

“Morning boys,” She greeted them enthusiastically.

The ceiling of the Great Hall was covered in a pale blue and yellow, the upcoming sun shining golden through the high windows.

“So.” Hermione poured both of you a glass of pumpkin juice. “How was it yesterday?”

“Mhm?” You looked up from your toast.

She sighed as if her question was rather obvious. “The dance lesson with Harry?”

“Oh.” You shrugged. “Normal.”

“So, nothing happened? Nothing you want to tell me?” She asked further.

You eyed her suspiciously, but she kept an innocent face expression.

“It’s not like we could do much besides dancing.”

Lavender beside you snickered and Parvati snorted into her coffee.

“Believe me, there is a lot you could do in that hour besides dancing,” Parvati said.

“God, no! Have you met Harry?” Lavender said bemusedly. “Like he's the type to have secret sex.”

“Still waters run deep,” Parvati replied, a smug grin on her lips. “Don't they, Y/N?”

Hermione crunched her nose at the suggestive tone as you narrowed your eyes at the two girls, shaking your head.

“Yes, keep making fun of my non-existing love life.”

You grabbed the strawberry marmalade, determined to ignore any topic concerning Harry. While you had lain awake last night, you had decided to bury your feelings for him all together and get over it. This would be easier once your dance lessons came to an end and the ball was done.

“Well, it does exist for everyone else,” Lavender interposed.

“And it would exist for you, too, if you would finally do something,” Hermione said, leaning forward.

“What?” You asked. “I mean, yeah, I like him, but he is definitely not into me like that. And I can't force him to be.”

Hermione groaned, and Parvati rummaged through her bag, pulling out a piece of parchment and making some space on the table.

“Okay, let’s see,” She began, “He asked you to teach him to dance. Big step for him, you know that. He always stares at you during Quidditch instead of the Snitch. Wood would've killed him by now. He always sits beside you. He definitely smelled you in Amortentia, regarding how he looked at you during that class. And since then, he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. He –”

“He does not,” You said, grabbing her wrist to stop her from writing any further.

“Yeah, he does,” Lavender argued. “Look!”

You turned to spot Harry alongside Ron and his sister Ginny coming through the doorway, and for one second, your eyes met. Then Ginny said something, and Harry looked at her, laughing.

You sighed and stuffed the rest of your toast down your throat to get rid of the sour feeling twirling and burning in your stomach.

“Well, Ginny’s pretty funny,” Hermione tried.

“Yeah, she’s funny and pretty and she likes everything he likes.”

“None of that matters because he fell in love with you and not Ginny,” Lavender said, smiling brightly.

“He did not – not what you said.”

“He did! The list doesn’t lie.”

Parvati waved the parchment through the air, and you snatched it out of her hand, drowning it in the pumpkin juice before anyone could read it. Hermione curled her lip as she watched the paper soaking up the orange liquid, sinking to the ground of the jug.

In the same moment, Harry, Ron and Ginny reached your table, and to your surprise, Harry really did sit down beside you, your knees touching shortly while he climbed over the bench. The sudden touch sent sparks through your body and filled you with a comfortable warm which was quickly extinguished by Ginny sitting down next to Harry.

You didn’t want to be jealous.

There was no need to compare yourself to Ginny, you were two completely different people. But hearing her talk about Quidditch to the guys and seeing her flicking her beautiful hair over her slim shoulder made it so obvious how perfect for Harry she was. You couldn’t compete with that, in fact, you didn’t even want to compete with that.

No, you would get over your feelings and maybe ask someone else to spend the next Hogsmeade weekend with you. Those evenings with Harry, those moments too good to be true would stay somewhere deep down in your heart, locked away from the real world.

The weekend left as fast as it had come, and soon enough Harry and you both found yourselves in your day-to-day school life, studying for an upcoming Charms test and writing essays for Snape and McGonagall.

There wasn’t much time to think about each other, yet Harry managed to glance up from his homework a few times to stare at you opposite from him, snuggled into an armchair while flicking through a book. He noticed that you captured your tongue between your lips or mouthed single words to yourself whenever you were so deeply sunken into thoughts that you forgot the many people around you.

The latter found Harry very impressive because he was never that relaxed if more than three people were with him. Your lips on the other hand found Harry... well, much more interesting than his homework was the least to say.

Every day he woke up thinking that today, he would ask you. But whenever he came close to ask, he changed the topic or was distracted by friends and classmates.

Even Ron had given up with his jokes by now, which was a very bad sign and a nonverbal way to say, Man, you fucked up.

–

You had decided to make the last of your dance lessons a memorable one. An hour of pretending, of being close to someone you know you would never be this close to ever again.

Therefore, you had asked your older sister to send some of your favourite records from home, which you were now sorting through in the abandoned classroom. It was ten minutes to eight and you were sipping a butterbeer to cool your nerves. All those times before you had been as calm as ever, but today you were on the edge.

The door opened and you turned to find Harry in the doorway, hair messy as ever.

“Hi,” He said and the corners of his lips jumped up into a lopsided smile.

“Hey. You’re early.”

“Could say the same about you.”

“Yeah, you could,” You mumbled, pushing the needle of the record player down onto the vinyl.

Classic music filled the air and you walked over to Harry to lead him to the middle of the room after he had dropped his back bag to the floor. With the high heels on your feet, you were almost eye to eye, your nose at the height of his lips.

For a wonder, he did not need your instruction to place his hand on your waist and pulled you much closer than usual.

Harry felt his heart beating in his throat. Being this close to you was galvanic, every nerve was burning, and then again, for the first time in two months, he was able to close his eyes and let himself sink in, to melt with the music, to feel the tact pulsating through his whole body. It was what you had tried to teach him all along.

And yet his tongue was tied. He just had to ask. Would you like to go to the ball with me? One simple question. You had told him yourself to not wait until last-minute to ask, and now with every minute, every hour, every day passing it felt more ridiculous. He had known that he wanted to ask you and only you to the ball, but every time he thought about forming the question, his mouth failed him.

Your eyes lay calmly on him, tapping his shoulder in time to the music while secretly trying to remember every little detail of his face: His prominent eyebrows curved over his emerald green eyes, his flushed cheeks and the dimples created by his light smile lying on his lips.

Harry had become, for lack of a better word, quite fantastic at slow dancing. There was confidence in the way he moved through the room and held onto you, mingled with a certain elegance and appreciation of the art he was participating in. A good teacher, he had called you. Well, regarding slow dances, yes.

But there was one other thing he had yet to learn.

“You’re really good, you know that?” You said, and his smile brightened.

“Yeah? Or are you just saying that because it’s my last lesson?” He asked.

“No, I mean it. You know, I wrote my sister last week and she send some of my vinyl discs from home,” You told him as the music slowly faded out and let your hand slip from his shoulder and hand to turn to the record player, not noticing how his fingers lingered a moment longer on your waist.

Harry watched how you sorted through the discs, not able to make use of their names in any way. The only record he had come across before those dance lessons had been one by a singer named Bonnie Tyler, who Aunt Petunia secretly listened to on repeat during the summer when Uncle Vernon went grocery shopping or mowed the lawn.

Harry wasn’t a big fan, which was pretty much the only thing he had in common with his cousin Dudley.

“Here. To dancing and a nice Spring ball.” Harry snapped out of his thoughts. You held out a bottle of butterbeer, which he took and snapped its bottle top off, regarding for a moment to say something along the lines like To you, for teaching me how to dance or To us, but that seemed a bit too much.

Therefore, he went with a simple “Cheers” and touched glasses with you.

While he took a big sip in hopes it would make him braver, you decided on a turquoise and pink coloured disc with a man dancing on the front, the words Footloose in ornate writing covering its front. He couldn’t help but notice the grin you tried to hide, as if knowing something he didn’t.

“What’s that?” He asked, leaning against the table beside you and putting his beer aside.

“That’s what the cool kids dance to.”

You placed the needle onto the record. Drums began to play a fast rhythm, mixed with an electric guitar, and you slipped off your high heels, now only in tights. Harry watched with fearful curiosity how you snapped your fingers in time, bopping your head with closed eyes to internalise the music.

Every movement of your feet, your hips, your shoulders was nonchalant, effortless and... well, simply cool.

“Come on!” You said loudly over the music, waving Harry closer.

“No, no, that’s –” He shook his head, heat flushing his cheeks, and crossed his arms.

“Yes!”

You danced up to him, grabbing him by his hands and pulling him to the middle of the room.

Harry had improvised a lot when it came to fighting evil. His whole trip to the ministry had been decided because of his gut instinct, because he had thought he knew what he was doing. Well, that was probably a bar example. He had made everything worse back then.

But everything he had done to fight off the hundreds of Dementors at the Great Lake, or the creatures in the maze two years ago, or Voldemort at the graveyard, every single thing had been purely and spontaneously improvised.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he was that good at improvising dance moves, but you had other plans.

“Come on, don’t you trust me?” You said as his fingers clenched around your hands, unable to let go, like a man clinging onto a life buoy in the middle of the ocean.

And Harry wanted to say back that of course he trusted you, more than he probably knew himself, but all that came out was a “Yeah” which sounded more like a laugh than an actual word because of the grin stretched across his lips.

“Just dance the way you dance when no one’s watching,” You said.

“I don’t – I don’t do that,” He admitted, feeling how his cheeks burned under the unbelieving look coming from you.

“Okay, then close your eyes and just – just do it. Here, I’ll do it, too!”

You closed your eyes, smiling brightly, and slipped your fingers out of his, twirling on the spot like you usually only did behind closed doors, and clapping your hands in time with the music.

Harry couldn’t rip his gaze off of you, the way your body moved without any shame, your ridiculous head banging while acting like you play the guitar – air guitar, that’s what it was called, he had seen Dudley and his friends doing it, but never with so much... passion?

You were quite passionate about dancing, much more passionate than you were about school or Quidditch, and it fascinated him. How you could let loose, could forget what everyone thought of you, and he wanted to feel it too, wanted to not think that everyone was judging him.

So, Harry closed his eyes, concentrated on the beat of the music and your hands clapping, and then he did what you had been doing: Moving his arms, his legs, his feet, all a bit offbeat, all much less cool than what you did, but it had the effect he had wished for.

He forgot. Forgot about everything going on, everything in the past, everything that would come. It was like the music had deleted Voldemort from his mind. There was only his body and those absurdly freeing dance moves he would have been ashamed off any other time.

But not with you.

“Hey, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, look at you!” You shouted over the music, and Harry ripped his eyes open in the same moment as you grab his hands again. He slowed his legs.

“You said you wouldn’t look,” He said breathlessly, very aware of his fast-beating heart.

But if he was honest, he did not mind that you had seen him. If he could choose any of his friends to watch him dance like this, it would definitely be you.

“I had to, I’m sorry!” You laughed, and the song came to an end. “Oh, I have something even better, you’ll like that!”

You hit him friendly in the chest and rushed over to your pile of vinyl discs, wrapping the Footloose back up and pulling out another one from a white and pink packaging with two people on the front.

Harry would’ve never believed that dance lessons would be more exhausting than Quidditch training, but he had soon been disabused. He took a huge sip from his bottle of butterbeer and watched how you placed the needle on the disc before reaching for your own bottle.

“‘You broke my heart – ‘cause I couldn't dance – you didn’t even want me around!’” You were mouthing along the words the singer was speaking in an overdramatic seriousness, holding your bottle like a microphone. Harry was grinning at you, afraid of what would come next. “‘And now I'm back – to let you know – I can really shake 'em down!’”

The music dropped in, and you shook your hips, hands on your black skirt.

“Now don’t tell me you’ve never heard of Dirty Dancing,” You dared as Harry stayed at his spot, and he shrugged helplessly.

You shook your head at him with a smile on your lips, placed your bottle away and pulled him away from the table until you two were almost as close as in your usual dance lessons.

“Okay, like this.” You grabbed him gently by the waist and pushed him a bit down so his legs were slightly bent. Harry’s heart jumped at the unexpected touch. “Good, yeah, look at what I’m doing.”

Your grip became firmer, circularly moving his hips like you did. His eyes jumped up between your face and your waist, and he tried his best to copy your movements while calming his heart speed down.

“Yes, good! Now, your upper body, look at me – yeah! Good, eyes up,” You reminded him, and he glanced at your face, his cheeks flushed.

“Is that okay?” You asked, stepping closer so your hips almost touch, and he nodded. You took his hand, placed it on your lower back, and wrapped your own arms around his neck, just like Johnny and Baby had done it in the beginning of Dirty Dancing.

“That’s good!” You encouraged him, and he grinned at you, his face bright red. “You know, in the movie, they have another dance with a lift.”

“You’re not gonna make me do that, are you?” He asked.

You shook your head, laughing. “No, definitely not without training and a mattress,” You said, slowing your hip movements. “Maybe after the ball. I mean –”

The words had just slipped out of your mouth without thinking about them before. But Harry smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of his forehead, while I’ve Had The Time Of My Life began to play, and Bill Medley’s voice filled the room.

Harry felt like he was on fire. If you wanted to continue the dance lessons next year it must be because you liked him. In some way, you liked him, and it was very hard for him to concentrate during this dance. And training on a mattress would not make that easier – Stop it, stop it, just answer!

“Yeah, okay,” He said, and your heart jumped up in excitement. You smiled back at him and grabbed his free hand with yours, leading you back into a simple dance routine fitting the music. Harry followed almost effortlessly, only shortly glancing at his feet.

“I’ll have to demand payment if we keep doing this.”

“What kind of payment?”

His hand on your lower back pushed you a bit closer, you were almost chest to chest. Was he... flirting with you?

Whatever it was, it made you speechless, and in a moment of incautiousness, your eyes fell down to his lips. You held your breath for a second as you looked back up into his eyes, slowing your movements. He returned your gaze, but just as you were about to gather all your courage, his eyes shifted to the door of the classroom, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration.

“What?” You asked, turning around.

“Filch,” He said and not far down the hall, you heard the meowing of Mrs. Norris.

Panic flared up inside of you as you saw the clock on the wall: Half past nine.

“Argh, fuck.”

You let go off him and rushed over to the table with the record play on top, shoving your vinyl discs into your schoolbag and collecting your high heels in a hurry.

Outside in the hallway, the scratchy voice of Filch mixed with the clicking of his cat’s claws on the stone tiles. Harry had grabbed his bag from the floor and fished out his Invisibility Cloak. As you turned around, he had reached you and enveloped you two in the cloak, standing almost as close to you as a few seconds ago.

“Have you found someone, Mrs. Norris?” Filch’s voice echoed through the hallway. “Is someone out of bed at night?”

“We have to get out,” You whispered, not very keen on getting detention any time soon.

“If we open the door now, he’ll know someone disguised is there,” Harry answered.

“How often have you snuck out of bed at night?”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a lopsided smile.

“Enough times to know what to do.”

The scratching on the classroom door reminded Harry that, despite the fact that they were invisible, it was still pretty obvious that someone had been in here. Harry flicked his wand at the ceiling light right in time – the candles went out and the two of you were coated in darkness just before Filch pushed the door open and the light from his lantern fell onto the stone floor. You held your breath, hoping he would leave again.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Norris’ red eyes scanned the room and the greyish cat walked up to you as if she could actually see you. Instinctively, you wanted to move backwards, but Harry’s arm wrapped around you, holding you in place. You looked up to him and he slowly shook his head.

Mrs. Norris eyed you for a few more seconds before she suddenly jumped onto the table behind you, walking up to the two almost emptied butterbeer bottles and bumping her head against them.

“Oh no.” Your voice was no more than a whisper. “I didn’t –”

Harry placed his hand over your mouth, forcing you to keep quiet.

“Sorry,” You mumbled.

Filch had turned away from the other side of the room he had inspected and was now walking over to his cat. With his arm around your mid, Harry pulled you two quietly away from the table he was now inspecting. You weren’t entirely sure whether it was the panic of escaping Filch or Harry’s chest pressed against your back, but the butterflies in your stomach were jittery as though they were on drugs, and your heart beat unbelievably fast.

Harry felt your heartbeat. He felt the pulsating blood in your veins on your neck where his arm lay, reaching up to your mouth. You were barely breathing, and he figured it was because he was holding you like he was about to kidnap you.

“Run when we’re in the hallway,” He whispered, eyes steadily watching Filch, and removed his hand from your lips to grab your free hand. You nodded shortly. Fortunately, Filch had left the door open, and in one swift motion, Harry had steered you outside.

Fingers still interlocked with yours, he began to run, you by his side. And despite the fact that you two had almost been caught, despite that you had been interrupted when he had felt most confident, despite the ruined moment, he felt light and free and happy.

You were clutching your shoes, slithering over the cold tiles in your black tights, and Harry, looking at you, almost missed the last step of the stairs leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He held onto you as he staggered, and you giggled breathlessly, pulling him back up.

“That – stupid – fucking – cat. Can she see through your cloak?” You asked.

Harry shrugged and ruffled through his messy hair.

“Don’t know. I think, but I’m glad she can’t talk,” He said, and a grin spread over your lips, which he returned.

He caught your eyes, looking at you like before, like there was something he needed to say – the tingling feeling in your core got overwhelmed by heart-racing panic and because of some sour mix of uncertainty and fear, you slipped out from under the Invisibility Cloak, taking a few steps away from Harry.

Not a second later, he emerged as well, fighting to keep the smile on his face like his heart hadn't just sunk so deep he wasn't sure if it was even still connected to his veins.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah!” Your voice was too loud, too squeaky to convince him. “Yeah, I – I'm sorry, it's just been a long week and I'm really tired. I'm gonna – gonna go...”

You gestured to the portrait behind you, avoiding his eyes, and turned to escape the situation.

Harry stared at the spot where you had vanished into the common room, his fingers clenching around the fabric of his cloak before tossing it to the ground. It didn't give the satisfying sound he had wanted to make, so he sent a “Fuck!” after it.

“Young boy, that is not a very appropriate language, now, is it?”

His eyes flew up to the Fat Lady, who had apparently watched with great interest. “Besides, what are you doing that late out of bed? I mean I know it gets later on Fridays for the two of you but it's later than usual today –”

“Chinese Fireball.”

“I just don't know what you are doing during that hour. There are rumours, for sure –”

“I told you the password, now will you open the fucking portrait? Chinese Fireball.”

“Oh, fine.” She let the portrait swing forward. “I'll find out by myself... maybe visit some paintings down on fifth floor...”

Harry ignored the Fat Lady.

He also ignored Ron calling after him from the sofa in front of the fireplace, as well as Hermione's questioning look and all the other people staring at him as he darted through the common room and up the stairs, slamming the door of his dorm shut behind him.

He ignored them because the only person he wanted to be seen with had just left him standing in the hallway and he wasn't even sure why.

The first time you saw each other again was three days later in Potions. You had ignored him on purpose, which you knew was obvious to him: Leaving the Great Hall whenever he stepped inside, sitting as far from him in the common room as possible, avoiding his eyes... that did not leave that much room for speculations.

You didn't want to hurt him, you really didn't, but you couldn't be friends any longer, especially not after last Friday. You weren't even sure what exactly had happened – had he really flirted with you or had that been your imagination? Probably the latter. He had asked someone else the ball after all. Right?

Parvati nudged you with her elbow, and you snapped out of your thoughts, noticing the hole in your parchment created by your quill. The two of you sat in the far back of Professor Slughorn’s class, who was in the middle of telling one of his anecdotes instead of teaching about Veritaserum.

“What’s going on?” She asked in a hushed voice. “You’ve been weird since Friday.”

Lavender, who sat in front of you, turned around. “Is it because of – you know?”

She gestured towards Harry in his usual place diagonally across from you. You sighed, placed your quill aside to rub your hands over your face and shrugged. You had also avoided any questions from your friends about Friday, mostly because you could not even answer them yourself.

“I thought he would ask you,” Lavender whispered while throwing a quick glance at Slughorn to make sure he was still occupied with his story. “Didn’t he?”

“No,” You mouthed. Parvati shook her head.

“Man, you’d think he had grown a set of balls after all. If it turns out he just used you to look good in front of Ginny, I swear to Merlin –”

“Well, that’s what it looks like, I mean, he had enough time to ask you,” Lavender said.

Before you could reply anything, Parvati had grabbed her wand and leaned forward. In the next second, the blue Jobberknoll feathers on Harry’s desk burst into flames with an ear-piercing noise.

Both Harry and Ron jumped up, startled from the sudden explosion, and Hermione let out a little shriek as one of the sparks got caught up in her locks. Snickering came from the Slytherin table, and Crabbe and Goyle were stupidly grinning.

“Was that you? Stupid tosspot, I’ll shove that feather up your –,” Ron swore loudly, fists high and ready to walk over to the Slytherins, who had gotten up as well and were throwing insults through the room.

“Calm down, m’boys, no need to get abusive.”

Slughorn stepped between the two fronts while both Harry and Hermione pulled Ron back down onto his chair. With a wave of Slughorn’s wand, the feathers stopped burning and were as good as new.

“Have you gone mental?” You asked during the turmoil. Parvati shrugged and innocently shoved her wand aside.

“You’re my friend and if he hurt you, he’ll get what he deserves –”

“He didn’t hurt me!” You whispered angrily. “I was the one who panicked, I ran away that evening because I was afraid of what he would say! Not Harry. I left him like the idiot I am even though he – he was super nice and said he wanted to learn more –”

“Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Sorry, Professor, I was just –”

“Talking to Ms. Patil, I noticed. Could you still answer my question?” Slughorn eyed you, and so were all the other students.

“Uh...yes... if you could repeat it? Sir.” You said, and once again snickering echoed through the classroom, the loudest coming from Pansy Parkinson.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Parvati reaching for her wand again, and you quickly pressed her hand down to the table, awkwardly smiling at Slughorn.

“I asked if you could tell me anything about the usage of Veritaserum in court,” He kindly repeated and you straightened your back, ignoring Hermione’s raised hand.

“Well, the potion is strictly banned by the British Ministry of Magic, therefore they don’t use it during interrogations and such, which is also because, like any other potion, it’s not infallible. But I read that in some Asian countries, the accused can choose if they want to take Veritaserum before they give testimony. Unfortunately, in some courts they give the accused failed Veritaserum in order to alter the given testimony fraudulently.”

You had never read about that, you were – ironically – making it up, but Slughorn didn’t seem to notice.

“Very well, that’ll be five points for Gryffindor,” He said. “That reminds me of –”

As Slughorn fell back into his old habit of telling personal stories during class, you sank back into your chair and stared at the chapped top of the desk for the rest of the lesson.

Only the bell ripped Slughorn out of his monologue, and over the rustling of chairs, he told the class to read the next chapter of Advanced Potion Making until Wednesday.

“Courtyard?” You asked Parvati as to where to spend your free lesson.

“Yeah, but I got a question about that graded essay from last week. Just go ahead, I’ll catch up with you,” She answered and made her way to the front. Alongside with Lavender, you were one of the first to leave the Potions classroom.

“I wish I hadn’t picked Arithmancy,” Lavender complained.

“You can sleep longer on Thursdays, remember?” You said as you reached the entrance hall. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Lavender began to climb up the stairs to the third floor, and you walked down the hallway. It was freezing cold outside, but the courtyard was beautiful during every time of the year, especially in the early mornings when the sun melted the iced-up grass and you could share a hot chocolate with your friends on one of the benches.

“Hey, Y/N! Wait!”

You turned to spot none other than Theodore Nott running up to you, his Slytherin scarf loosely around his neck.

“Hi,” He said as he had reached you.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You asked.

“Actually, yeah. I wanted to ask if you have a dance to spare at the Spring ball? I mean, I know you’re going with Potter, I just wanted one dance with someone professional –”

“I’m not going with Harry,” You blurted out. Theodore narrowed his eyebrows.

“What?” He asked, a bemused smile on his lips.

You gulped and shook your head, crossing your arms. “I’m not going with... anyone.”

“Oh. Well, then,” His body relaxed visibly, and he raised his eyebrows, “do you wanna go with me?”

You opened your mouth, an agreement already on the tip of your tongue, but you knew that was just out of desperation and not because you actually wanted to go to the ball with Theodore.

“Hey, you know what, no pressure at all, okay?” He said, placing his hand on your shoulder casually. “I’ll be at the ball anyway, so if you want to dance then, I’m free.”

You nodded. “Thank you, Theodore. I’ll think about it.”

“You can call me Theo. Only if you want to, obviously.”

A grin crept upon your face. “Yeah, I’ll – I’ll think about it.”

Whatever Harry had felt the two days prior, it was nothing compared to the sour feeling circulating in his stomach now, like some dragon-creature spitting fire and tearing at his entrails with sharp claws. Inside of him, everything was clenching and itching, but on the outside, he was numb.

Like his brain had been disconnected from his muscles, wherefore he was only able to stare at Theodore Nott and his stupid, complacent grin and his hand on your shoulder while he asked you to the ball.

This wasn’t fair. How come everyone else but him was able to do it, how come everybody else had managed to find a date, when – to be honest – he had been provided with one of the best initial situations? How come the only thing he was apparently fit for was getting himself into trouble and escaping death every goddamn year? Harry had kind of forgotten about all that was to come, all that Dumbledore had told him, and the memory Slughorn was still tending like dark secret simply because of you.

The worst thing wasn’t that Theodore Nott had just asked you to go to the Spring ball with him. No, the worst thing was that you had agreed.

The only thing that was left for him was to run, which he did now: Up to the Gryffindor tower, tossing his back bag into a corner and grabbing his Firebolt from under the bed, then back down to the Quidditch pitch in record time.

Flying was one of the most freeing activities known to Harry, especially in the cool, fresh morning air with no one else around. High above the frozen grass and the wooden stands, much higher than probably allowed without any teacher near by, Harry paused to watch the sun over the Forbidden Forest.

He wondered if you had ever flown before, if you knew how brilliant it was to hover a thousand feet above the ground, far away from all the problems. Far away from Ron asking what the bloody hell was wrong with him. Far away from Hermione telling him that it was his own fault for waiting so long but that you surely weren’t interested like that in that tosser Theodore (though she would probably word it much more formal).

Time was relative up here, Harry had noticed over the years, so he closed his eyes and shut the world out for a moment. Saturday was still light-years away anyway, so –

“Harry, is that you?”

He almost fell from his broom.

With his heart still beating way to fast and adrenalin pumping though his veins, he turned his broom around to find no one other that Luna standing inside commentary box and waving up to him. Oh well. So much for being alone.

He steered his Firebolt down to the blonde witch and landed beside her.

“What are you doing her, Luna?” He asked as climbed from his broomstick. “Don’t you have classes right now?”

“Oh, yes. But I saw that you are sad so I asked Professor Sprout if I could go because I’m not feeling very well,” She explained and sat down on one of the benches.

“You lied to a professor?”

“Oh, no,” She said, looking at him with her dreamy blue eyes. “I don’t feel well when my friends are sad.”

Harry didn’t know what to reply to that, so he simply sat down next to her. Luna had such a strange, but calm energy, like a pulsating, pink bubble inhibiting her, and if you were lucky, she let you inside this bubble and you could shut the world out for a moment.

“Harry, why are you sad?” Luna asked softly after a while.

“Because... because I like someone who doesn’t like me back,” He said.

Luna placed her hand upon his, and he saw that she had painted her fingernails in every colour of the rainbow. Though that was probably Ginny’s work.

“I think Y/N likes you very much,” She said. Harry scoffed.

“Not the way I like her,” He said. “She just agreed to go to the ball with Nott. I saw it. She looked happy. And when I wanted to ask her last week, she ran away.”

“You know, first I thought you wanted to go to the ball with somebody else,” She said. “I thought maybe you wanted to ask Cho again and wanted to prepare this time. And maybe Y/N thought so, too.”

Harry looked up at the blonde girl.

“She did ask me if I was going to ask Cho,” He said, remembering one of the dance lessons.

“And did you tell her that you actually want to ask her?”

“No,” He admitted, burying his face in his hands. “I panicked... and now it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. You should still go to the ball, and then you should tell her,” Luna said.

“How? I can’t do it when we’re alone, I certainly can’t do it when there’s a hundred people around,” Harry said miserably.

“Well, then don’t.” Luna shrugged. “If you want her to be with Theodore –”

“I don’t want that,” He interrupted her. “Of course, I don’t.”

“Then go to the ball and tell her. I know you can do that.”

Saturday evening came around faster than you liked it to. Over the last four days, you had noticed Theodore’s eyes on you more than once during the meals or potions class, but it did not cause the tingling feeling in your stomach you would like his looks to cause.

If anything, you felt a pressure to talk to him and to spend time with him because you would go to the ball together. But you did not give in to that pressure and avoided him as much as possible, which led to you often leaving the potions classroom as one of the first.

To be honest, you were much more concentrated on Harry.

Harry who did not sit beside you during meals anymore. Harry who did not look in your direction but rather stared at his plate. Harry who looked like he had just lived through a very miserable week.

And you knew that was because you had left him standing in the hallway last Friday night. Maybe he had figured that you had feelings for him and that was his way of dealing with it: Distancing himself from you.

You wished you had not run. You wished you could’ve stayed in that abandoned classroom forever, your favourite song playing and his arms around you.

–

“What eyeshadow should I use?”

“The darker one.”

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up from where you sat on the floor in your puffy, ankle-long purple-pink dress. Parvati held out her eyeshadow palette, eyebrows raised as she sceptically eyed you. Her black hair was still wrapped around a dozen curlers. Lavender had spent all morning on them.

“Yes, the darker one,” You said. “Brings out your eyes.”

Thankfully, that answer seemed to satisfy her enough to not ask how you were doing. She and Lavender had already asked that over a million times, but you had reassured them that you were totally okay.

Parvati turned back to face the mirror.

“When did you want to meet with Nott?” Lavender asked. She kneeled in front of her trunk, pondering whether she should wear black or silver heels.

“Half past seven,” You mumbled, picking at the tulle of your dress.

Theodore had held you back yesterday after Defence against the Dark Arts to tell you that he would be at the Great Hall at 7:30 and that you were welcome to eat dinner with him and his friends – which included people like Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson; people you usually avoided by all means, people that had laughed at you for tripping over the last step of a stair, for not knowing an answer to one of Snape’s stupid questions, or for simply being Muggleborn.

You had never been less interested in going to a social event. All you wanted to do was lay in bed under your blanket and erase the last week out of your mind.

“Oh, come on, darling, we talked about this.” Lavender came over and squished your cheeks, brushing away a tear. “Today is not the day to sulk about some guy who doesn’t return your feelings. Today is your day, and you’re gonna have fun with us. Don’t let some guy ruin that. Okay?”

You sniffed and nodded, not able to answer because she cupped your cheeks so solidly. Lavender smiled and kissed your forehead.

“That’s right,” She said. “We’re gonna have some dinner and dance a bit and if by then you still feel bad, we can go back to our dorm.”

“And if Harry dares to talk to you, he’s gonna know what’s it feels like to be kicked in the balls with a heel,” Parvati added dryly. You laughed.

The Great Hall was decorated with yellow, pink and purple banners, and the four long house tables had been exchanged with much smaller, round ones scattered where the staff table usually stood, on each of them a vase filled with rosa tulips and white daffodils.

The ceiling did not mirror the night sky outside but a beautiful, orange sunset lighting up the dance floor in the middle. Opposite from the many tables, on the other end of the hall, Slughorn had organised a stage with a cover band. Next to the stage hung a long parchment onto which everyone could write requests.

You spotted your Potions teacher, dressed in a bright green suit, next to Dumbledore, his robes a terrible pink, both of them writing down their song requests.

“A Galleon that Dumbledore is a Spice Girls fan,” Lavender said grinning as she had followed your eyes.

“Bet,” Parvati said, grabbing three drinks from a passing waiter. “Here. Cheers.”

The three of you clinked glasses and took a sip of the red punch – it tasted strongly of various fruits, coconut, and bitter alcohol.

You let your eyes glide further over the hall and the people that sat together in groups around the tables, some of them already eating. Secretly, you were looking for Harry, though you only discovered Ginny in between Luna and Hermione, all of them chatting happily, and a few tables behind them, Theodore.

He waved as he saw you, gesturing to come over. You forced yourself to smile and wave back at him.

“I’ll see you later,” You said, chugging down the rest of your drink.

“Tell us if he’s being an asshole,” Parvati said. “Or really any of them.”

“And have some fun,” Lavender added.

You took one last look at your friends – Parvati in her silk, almond white, slim dress, and Lavender with flowers in her hair, their arms linked together – and swallowed thickly before turning and making your way through the crowd towards Theodore, though you made sure to give the table with Ginny a wide berth.

“Hi, Y/N,” Theodore greeted you, pecking a swift kiss on your left cheek. His eyes, however, were gliding over the room filling with more and more students. “We’ve already ordered some drinks, come on.”

You took a step back after the kiss, blinking quickly, then noticed how the other people around the table were staring at you:

Pansy and Daphne eyed you and your dress dismissively, and Blaise sipped on his wine, eyebrows raised. Only Draco was slumped in his chair and chewed on a gum, not wasting a single glance at you. He looked as uninterested in this Spring Ball as you felt.

An hour ago, you sure as hell wouldn’t have believed to relate to bloody Draco Malfoy.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/N,” You said, forcing a smile on your face and holding out your hand towards Pansy, as she sat closest to you. “I like your dress. Matches your earrings.”

That compliment seemed to leave a mark. Her judging look softened and she shook your hand.

After introducing yourself to everyone (well, except Draco, who had only shortly nodded at you), you sat down in between Theodore and Blaise, and ordered something to eat.

Pansy and Daphne were huddled together the whole time, giggling and pointing at others, while Draco raised a complaint about every meal on the menu or really any other small inconvenience that had the unfortune to be spotted by him (“I can’t eat that, it has tomatoes in it. Nothing on here is gluten free. I’ll write father first thing in the morning. Pansy, will you shut the fuck up for a second? That’s not even a real band. God, I hate this place.”).

“He’s a whiny bitch most of the time, but his family has a great holiday chalet in France,” Blaise said to you after Draco had shot you an annoyed look for asking if you should ask the band to play a different song. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be friends with him.”

“I hope you choke on that disgusting wine,” Draco muttered, and you chuckled.

“Sure, darling,” Blaise replied, sharing a look with you. Until now, Blaise had surprisingly talked the most with you, and it turned out he wasn’t half as bad as you had always thought he would be.

Theodore on the other hand had only occasionally asked you how your meal was and how long you had planned to stay. His eyes had not held contact with yours for longer than a second and were still searching for something in the crowd, which was – by the way – having fun on the dance floor while you had not moved in almost an hour.

It wasn’t until a particularly beautiful girl from Ravenclaw strode past your table that Theodore hooked his foot around the leg of your chair to pull you closer and placed his hand on your upper thigh, giving you his full attention for the first time that night.

“Have I told you that you look very pretty tonight?” He asked, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Er – no,” You said, darting a confused look towards the Ravenclaw girl.

“Well, you do,” Theodore went on and turned your head back to face him by stroking his thumb over your cheek before pressing his lips onto the skin beneath your ear. They felt chapped and not pleasant in any way. You cringed.

“Uh, sorry, but that’s maybe a bit early, don’t you think?” You said, drawing back and shoving his hand from your thigh.

“She’s gone anyway, Theo,” Blaise said. You did not understand.

“Who’s gone?” You asked, looking back and forth between Theodore and the others, who all seemed to know something you didn’t. Pansy giggled.

“Nothing,” Theodore said. His sweet voice had turned bitter, and you felt like that was your fault. He stood up. “I’ll get some more punch.”

The band segued from an upbeat song into a much slower one, and the light of the candles magically dimmed.

“Do you want to dance maybe?” You asked Theodore as a way to make up for your rejection, but he had already pushed past a group of chatting seventh years, not turning around.

You sank back into your chair, picking at the tulle of your dress again. Was it too early to tell Lavender and Parvati that you wanted to go back to your dorm?

“Girl, if I were you, I would get out of here as quickly as possible,” Blaise said. You looked up at him. “He’s not worth it. And he’s not here for you. So don’t waste your energy.”

“But he asked me to the ball,” You said weakly.

“Did he? Or did he just ask for some time with you to make his ex-girlfriend jealous?”

“He – well – he…”

But Blaise looked at you and you knew that he was right, that this was never about you but some other girl. It was always about some other girl.

“Excuse me, I’ll get some fresh air,” You said and made your way through the tables towards the doors.

The last time, everyone had watched him. Now it was Harry’s turn to watch everyone else try their best on the dance floor. He wasn’t sure what was worse; to be laughed at by the others while stepping on Parvati’s feet every other second or to watch not only Hermione and Ron but also Ginny and Luna, as well as Seamus and Dean dancing closely, arms around the other.

They all had no idea what they were doing, Harry could tell, but they were having fun anyway. He had never seen Hermione this happy.

“Oh, flashback.”

Harry looked up. Parvati sat down next to him on the chair that Ron had left over half an hour ago.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, taking another sip of butterbeer, and turned back to the dance floor right in time to see Dean kissing Seamus passionately in the middle of the room.

“And you are not dancing because…?” Parvati asked. Harry crossed his arms.

“If you’re here to make fun of me or to blow up my butterbeer, feel free to fuck off.”

Parvati chuckled. “Sorry about that. But seriously, why are you sitting here miserably after all those dance lessons?”

Harry tried to make out if she was actually serious or if this was her way to revenge herself for the Yule Ball.

“Are you kidding me?” He asked. Parvati narrowed her eyebrows, now visibly puzzled.

“No, I’m genuinely asking –”

“Well, it’s not that fucking easy to slow dance if you have no date, is it,” He said crossly.

Parvati gaped at him, but he was certainly not in the mood for this. It had cost him all his strength to not look for you in the crowd all evening, he did not need reminding of you not liking him back by Parvati.

Before she could say anything else, he placed his butterbeer bottle on the table and darted outside, hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his suit and eyes directed to the floor.

Harry’s feet guided him towards the courtyard. The music played by the band wasn’t as loud out here, and the cold night air was lively in contrary to the sticky, perfumed air inside the Great Hall.

He kicked some of the grass away and walked towards the bench underneath the willow, watching how its branches weighed in the wind and thought how you were probably having as much fun as his friends, or maybe even more, considering Nott was infamous for snogging in various broom closets.

Harry’s stomach turned at the thought of that. He wished he had a time turner to make it right.

The moon stood high on the deep blue night sky, illuminating the courtyard you had unconsciously walked to. Grey clouds had approached, and tiny raindrops were falling to the ground, steadily drumming onto the roofs of Hogwarts.

On your way out of the Great Hall, you had caught a glimpse of Theodore sticking his tongue down the throat of that Ravenclaw girl, but to be honest, it didn’t matter that he was making out with someone else. It would’ve just been nice if you could have had a forewarning.

You thought you were the only single soul wandering about, then spotted a figure sitting on a bench. You were about to turn and search for some other place to wallow in your feelings, when you recognised the messy hair.

Maybe this was the time to make up for running away. Maybe this was the time to be honest.

Harry looked up when he noticed someone coming closer, the tulle of your dress rustling over the wet grass. His heart jumped and he forgot to breathe for a moment.

“Hello,” You said, voice echoing over the empty courtyard. “Can I sit?”

“Of course.”

Harry scooted to the side to make some space for you. You sat down next to him, leaving maybe a hand width between the two of you. The wide branches of the willow guided you from the cold rain.

“You weren’t dancing,” You said, staring at the grass instead of his face.

You would understand if he did not want to talk, if he just walked away. He didn’t owe you an explanation for why he had not asked you to the ball or why was sitting here instead of inside with Ginny or whoever he had asked.

“You weren’t either, were you?” Harry replied. “You and Nott.”

“No, he’s busy with someone else, so… no. Not dancing.”

“Oh.” Harry shuffled. His knee bumped against yours. “Well, he’s an idiot then.”

You smiled, not moving your knee away from his.

“Yeah…but I don’t mind, really.”

“You should,” Harry said, and he meant it. No one should be treated like that. “If anyone should be dancing, it’s you.”

You looked up at him. Harry was already watching you, and it filled you with warmth despite the freezing cold. There wasn’t a single sign of hurt on his face, just a soft curiosity lying in his green eyes.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, “for running away last Friday. I had to sort out some things.”

“What things?” He asked quietly.

“Some…” Your heartbeat sped up. Be honest, you told yourself. “Some feelings.”

“Oh.” Harry tried to figure out what you meant by that, but the way you looked at him made his mind go blank. “You mean you…”

“I really like dancing with you,” You said. Harry felt his heart beating faster than ever against his ribcage. He wondered if you could hear it. “And I wouldn’t have done those lessons with anyone.”

The music from inside the Great Hall was growing louder, overshadowing the rain; someone must’ve opened the doors to let in some fresh air. The band was playing a slower, French song and it stung in your heart. It was one of your favourites.

When you turned back to Harry, he was standing up. For a second you thought he wanted to leave, to go back inside, then –

“May I have this dance?” Harry held out is right hand, and you did not have to think twice if you should take it or not.

He helped you up from the bench and led into the middle of the lawn, the rain still pattering onto the grass and the stone tiles. It smelled strongly of petrichor, and you thought that this was much closer to spring than the decorations in the Great Hall.

Harry’s hand found its place on your back, pulling you closer to him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, tapping his skin with your finger in time to the music out of habit, and met his eyes, reflecting the moon light in them.

Had you ever told him how beautiful he was?

The two of you moved, swaying back and forth. Harry realised that he did not even need to concentrate on the steps, he knew them by heart. The closeness of you took his breath away, the way your fingers held onto his, the way there was little to no room between your torso and his. You were smiling at him, despite the cold and the rain. Harry felt his stomach tingling.

“What’s it called?” Harry asked quietly, not wanting to drown out the music.

“‘Je Te Laisserai Des Mots’. I’ll leave you words,” You translated, having memorised the lyrics in your mind. “I’ll leave you words underneath your door, underneath the singing moon. Near the place where your feet pass by…hidden in the holes of wintertime and when you’re alone for a moment.”

You paused and Harry’s eyes fell to his feet, not able to take your gaze any longer. There were words on the tip of his tongue he did not dare to say – afraid, to ruin the moment. He wanted to stay here forever.

“Eyes up,” You said, placing your hand underneath his chin to lift his head up.

More French words reached your ears; Harry figured they were the same sentence repeated over and over, but even if he had been able to understand French, he wouldn’t have been able to translate them because of your hand still resting under his chin.

“Kiss me whenever you want,” You whispered. “Kiss me whenever you want. Kiss me –”

And then, Harry let go of his fears and kissed you.

After all it still took you by surprise how he loosened his fingers from yours to cup your face, pulling you as close to him as possible, until there was no space in between, noses bumping against each other. Both of your hands slung themselves around his neck, caressing his skin and driving up through messy hair.

His lips matched yours, gliding smoothly over one another, smearing your lip gloss everywhere until all you tasted was strawberries and sweet alcohol. With his chest against yours, Harry was glad to notice your heart beating as fast as his did, though that was also because he really needed to breathe – not that he wanted to, he would have been totally okay with never breaking away from the kiss if it was always going to feel this soft and freeing.

It was you in the end that had to carefully pull his face away from yours, heavily breathing in and out. You brushed his wet hair out of his forehead and let your fingers slide over his temples and cheeks down to his neck.

“That offer,” Harry began breathlessly, tucking a strand of hair he had accidentally drawn from your pinned-up hair behind your ear, “about continuing the dance lessons…that still stands, right?”

Your lips curved upwards into a smile. “Of course.”

“Brilliant,” Harry said, mirroring your smile before leaning down again to close the gap between your lips.

#Harry Potter #Harry James Potter #harry potter x reader #harry james potter x reader #fluff #oneshot #my writing #angst #slow burn

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absolutebl · 3 years ago

Note

Hi!! First and foremost I wanted to say that I love your blog, thank you for sharing all this information about the genre and tropes and cinematography stuff with us, it's always interesting!

I also wanted to ask, since Not Me is airing and so far -at least for me- it's giving and the main couple get more interesting with each episode, what's your opinion on OffGun's chemistry and how it evolved since their first work together? Personally, I love them both and think they have great chemistry offscreen, but I always struggle to see all that chemistry in their series. I mean, it's still there, but not.. as much? It could be just a personal taste thing.

Sorry if the question is silly and no hate intented to the actors of course! They're amazing and get better each time. Also sorry if there's any mistake, english is not my first language!

Hi hi, thank you so much for the compliment!

OffGun & The Evolution of Chemistry for a BL Pair

What's your opinion on OffGun's chemistry and how it evolved since their first work together? Personally, I love them both and think they have great chemistry offscreen, but I always struggle to see all that chemistry in their series. I mean, it's still there, but not.. as much?

Okay so, I love them and they are great as a branded pair, offscreen in particular. But Imma put that aside and go into film critique mode...

Here's the good kiss post where I talk about couple chemistry on screen, and since that is what this is about here's my 3 part definition. Good chemistry requires (especially for a kiss):

emotional resonance (AKA empathy - heart) - face expression, eye contact

physical reactions (AKA sexual responses - body) - breath matching, lip softness, hand movements, body language & stiffness

sympathetic execution (AKA intellectual connection - mind) - dialogue delivery, interplay and push/pull or call and response

In other words, the audience needs to feel that the characters

like each emotionally

desire each other physically

are enjoying it (AKA understand each others needs intellectually)

Puppy Honey & the Space Between Us

When Puppy Honey was being redropped to YouTube way back, someone wrote about their kiss in that series and said "it was like the continental divide" between those lips.

At the time PH filmed, Gun was a VERY seasoned actor who had done BL before. (He started acting when he was 8 and he's 28 now, I know older than you think.) Off had a small back catalogue but no BL.

Don't get me wrong PickRome are my favorite of OffGun’s characters and the two work well together for this story, but their chemistry in this series is all over the place. Gun is giving too much and Off not enough and while this jives with their characters but only up to a point (that point being when Pick is supposed to soften). It's very inconsistent. Gun is out acting Off, and he’s so charismatic he takes a lot of the visual breath from the room.

In this series they are really good at only the third on my list: intellectual chemistry. Their banter in this one is great (and it’s Off’s greatest strength as an actor - his line execution is *chef’s kiss* the writers rooms must LOVE him). But their is no physical chemistry (except from Gun in that daydream sequence), and their emotional chemistry is all over the place when it should have been a clean arc.

Theory of Love & the Middle Ground

By the time Theory of Love came around these two had been co-branding for years. They have a very set dynamic on the interview and variety show circuit, which basically translated as an IRL tsundere arc for Off - Gun just chipped away at Off’s armor until Off was like,

ARGH he can do whatever he wants!

It’s very indulgent parent/older brother in its tone, Papii. Gun is a puppy Off has come to adore and is annoyed at most of the time, also annoyed at himself and the world that foisted this on him. In a loving way, of course.

Is this performative or authentic? They actors, who can tell? Let them do their thing, it’s fun to watch either way.

Also by ToL Off had become a much better actor so Gun no longer took up all the air in the room whenever they were on screen together.

I don’t really like ToL but objectively it’s a better series than PH and they are better in it. As with PH, their intellectual chemistry is on point throughout (I just don’t like a crying pining uke and the clueless arse seme pairing). When Khai finally relents, OffGun gives us much better emotional chemistry, eye contact and facial expressions of affection and the like. Their physical chemistry is better too, although it’s more brotherly than sexual. That’s normal for Thailand. Off is much less stiff, their kisses are better, although they never breath match or do anything that makes the audience think they’re actually into boning each other. Again, I don’t expect this from Thai BL.

Although, to be fair, I think Gun could probubly do this. Just not with Off. Pair him with Zee or Mew... see what happens. I know I know. I broke your hearts.

Not Me

Not Me has just completed as I type this. As is typical with these two it was a slow burn. Although this time both characters were tsundere. This is one of the hardest pairings for actors to pull off (pun intended) as the most extreme version of enemies to lovers. Fortunately for us, OffGun were up to the task.

I actually didn’t have a ton of faith that they were gonna execute the relationship side of this story well. Gun’s worst roles have historically all been when he portrayed tsundere (I thought he was outright bad in The Gifted). And Off was too comfortable as Sean, it’s an easy character for him (he loves a cool bad boy).

They proved me wrong. The SeanWhite romance was not the driver of this BL (so I question whether it is BL - read about that here) but that’s not the point, we’re discussing OffGun’s chemistry. And it was GOOD.

They’re clearly beyond comfortable with each other in this show, it has the most in common with the Theory of Love special. They were practically Taiwan level on comfort in each other’s space. Sometimes it felt like this made the romance a little too easy or something? And certainly Sean having a girlfriend-ish was unnecessary.

Still I think they did great job, there was clear annoyance, then affection, and then love between them. Sean in particular, we could watch him soften, and I’m glad we got to see him figure out that White was a twin. Having dated an identical twin myself, I can tell you that part was very well done. The difference is in personality, body language and tone of voice. Visually I could rarely tell teh difference but the moment one of them opened their mouth I was like, that one is mine (or that one is NOT mine).

At times the romance and physicality between Sean & White was perhaps a bit too OffGun and not enough SeanWhite. (I occasionally could be heard to say while watching: Careful boys your OffGun is showing.) And I’m sorry, but this is a pair I’m never gonna completely believe actually wants to bone. But it doesn’t really matter to this story. That’s not really what SeanWhite’s love affair was really about.

In the end, I gotta say the best BL (as a BL) from OffGun is probubly Theory of Love. (I know right? This is my least favorite of their oeuvre.)

That said, Not Me might be my favorite story. I loved its queerness and grit. I like that it’s dealt with things that other BLs (let alone Thai BLs) haven’t. But I do think DanYok outshone SeanWhite (as a PAIR), their chemistry was superior in almost every regard.

And PickRome will always and forever be my favorite OffGun, they are the ones I will rewatch forever.

Here’s something to think about with these two.

How would it work if Off had to be a uke? Or play a pining seme? All his roles opposite Gun are tsundere. What if these two had to do a Thai version of We Best Love? What if they had been the leads in Bad Buddy? Could they handle it? I don’t know. I don’t think so. As an acting pair I think they have a limit.

They’ve evolved and gotten better. So their new limit has not yet been tested. And it may never be.

(source)

Updated April 2022

#offgun #thai bl #theory of love #puppy honey #not me the series #not me #film critique #bl actors #bl actor pair #Off Jumpol #Gun Atthaphan

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currymariana · 3 years ago

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The tear in my heart (Chapter 6)

Paring: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: Detective Y/L/N is the youngest yet the most skilled detective in Gotham’s Police, being one of the few James Gordon trusts with Batman stuff. After some time working closely with the Bat, Y/N starts to get the vigilante’s attention. But there’s no way this would work right? Getting close to you as Batman wasn’t a possibility, but maybe he could take a chance as Bruce, right?

Words: 3,2k

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A/N: Happy mother's day! Hope you are having a great time with the ones you love. It took me longer than expected to write this chapter, I rewrited like... 4 times to come out as I wanted. By the way I decided to spend more of my time writing. Things haven't beeing great and writing is something I really enjoy to do. Reading your comments and seeing you guys enjoy it makes me feel better. So even touth the time is short, with college and friends and family and work (i know...) I decid to dedicate more of my time on this story and others I have in mind. Anyways... Hopefully you will be seeing more of me. So hope you liked this one and let me know what you think (any critics or compliments are welcome)

You are sitting on the cafe counter waiting for Andrea to take the order of some random client to proceed with your conversation, while you look at some papers from a new case you have been working on.

“Okay let me see if I get this straight,” she said while standing in front of you on the other side of the balcony and added, “You are dating the most famous guy in the city for over a month and you haven’t even kissed him yet?”

“We are not dating” you corrected her

“That’s bullshit!” she argued “You guys have been out like what? 8 times?”

“9” you mumbled, looking to your coffee and the papers on the counter.

“Oh my god! You are insufferable” she growled

You and Bruce made those little dates a thing, almost every week you would go out for a quick coffee or lunch together. You even appeared in the gossip magazines once or twice as the billionaire's new fling. But nothing ever happened. You were still unsure about all of this. You liked the friendship you both had and you enjoyed spending time with him. But you weren’t sure if you wanted this to turn into a relationship. And Bruce not even once pushed or questioned you about anything. Beeing a gentleman as always.

“We are good friends,” you said

“Well… you have a very hot and rich friend” she added, raising her eyebrows to you, you simply rolled your eyes and decided to ignore her comment. “There is no way you haven’t thought about it”

“Well, of course, I did” you admitted “But there’s nothing to think about it. I like having another friend besides you and Jim. I don’t want to be in a relationship right now and there is no way someone like him wants to be in a relationship with someone like me.”

“Sometimes I really want to hit you in the face” was all she said before being called once again to take some costumer orders.

It felt like you both had this conversation like a million times already.

She was always telling you to move things forward with Bruce. You would say you were just friends and how you wanted to focus on your job, and that there was no way Bruce Wayne who dates models and Hollywood actresses would want to date you. She would say that no guy took a girl out that many times if he just wanted to be friends. And you being your insecure and stubborn self would choose not to believe her.

“You’re a beautiful, intelligent, successful detective. He would be stupid to not want to date someone ‘like you” she said returning to the other side of the counter and doing a sarcastic voice in the last words

“Can we change the subject? You just want me to date him so you could get a ride in his car” you responded her, obvious joking “Plus… is not like I want someone like him anyway”

“Oooh right. He isn’t too dark and mysterious for your taste”

“What do you mean?” you asked confused

“I mean that he doesn’t put on a bat costume and fights criminals at night… Totally not your type.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous”

“You’re the one with a crush on a crazy guy you don’t even know the face”

“I do not have a crush”

“You do”

“I don’t. That would be ridiculous.”

“Exactly” was all she said before going to take some other customer's order.

You totally don’t have a crush on Batman. That would be totally nonrational of you. You don’t even know the guy. Sure you had been working “together” for a few years. Sure you found him extremely intelligent. Sure you admired him. And he intrigues you.

That’s it, you were intrigued. There was nothing more than admiration.

Maybe if you repeat that enough you would actually believe it.

You hated having this kind of talk with Andrea. But you liked it at the same time. It was like you were perfect opposites. She was all emotion and spontaneously and you the rational half.

She always made you see things differently than the way they were in your head. And you hated how she always made you question things at the end of every conversation.

That’s why you would rather talk to Jim. But you didn't wanna talk about relationships with him. That would be too awkward. The guy is almost like a father to you.

So Andrea would do. And maybe she was right. You are a beautiful, intelligent, successful detective. You shouldn’t be afraid of taking the next step in a relationship.

To be honest you know Bruce wants more. He wouldn’t ask you on a date after only seeing you twice (and even after you called him dumb on your first encounter) if he didn’t like you.

And you would be lying if you said you didn’t like him like that too. He was fun to be with. He was always a gentleman with you. You like him. But there was a stupid not so little voice inside your head telling you things like you were not enough for someone like him. There was no way Bruce Wayne of all people would like you. Even though he never made you feel like that. Maybe you should let your more emotional and spontaneous side take over.

And the batman thing… Well on that subject you need the racional side to really take over.

There’s no possible way anything could ever happen. The guy never speaks more than 10 words per night. You know nothing about him besides he likes bats (probably).

There was a really nice guy in your life. One that talks to you. Shows you sides of him he doesn't show everyone. And that likes you.

“You really think he likes me like that?” you manifest your internal thoughts to Andrea as soon as she steps in front of you

“Who? The Batman?”

“No, you idiot…. Bruce”

“ooooh - yeah, definitely,” she said nodding “Told you already. No guy would take you out that many times if he didn’t like you - I swear sometimes it’s like you don’t even listen to me”

“Well… unfortunately I do” you joked “Actually you talk so much that sometimes I block your voice on my brain and just nod” she hits your arm and you pretend that it hurt

“Why do you ask though?” she gave you a knowing look and raised an eyebrow “Finally thinking of giving the guy a chance?”

“I don’t know just thinking about the whole situation”

Three days later that conversation. You were sitting in the Wayne Manor library. Working on a case as he worked on his company paperwork or something. It has become a usual thing between you two.

You would just go to Manor to spend time together. You did your thing while he did his. Not necessarily engaging in a conversation. Just simply enjoying each other’s company.

It didn't make sense for you to drive all the way there. But you just liked having a different environment to work in and you could enjoy Alfred’s cooking on top of that. Plus.. the company wasn’t actually unpleasant.

Bruce was pretty smart. Sometimes you would talk about what you were working on and vice-versa. And to your surprise sometimes he would even help you. Coming up with some quite smart solutions.

But this time you couldn’t help but think about your talk with Andrea back in the cafe. That one where the subject wasn’t exactly new. But when you talked to Jim bravely about it. Hoping he would agree with you and blow those crazy emotional thoughts out of your head.

You were surprised when he agreed with your barista friend. He even told you he was seeing right through your feelings for weeks but hasn't said anything because he knows you and knew you would just deny it anyway.

If you were already thoughtful, you are even more now. You couldn’t focus on your case. The papers in front of you were just a distraction from the handsome man sitting across from you. You were uncharacteristically uneasy. And he seemed to notice. Of course, he would notice;

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked turning his sight of the computer in front of him to you

“Yeah I’m” you looked at him and gave him a little smile before turning your attention back to the papers in front of you “Just a complicated case” you couldn’t tell him the real reason for your anxiety so you blamed on the case (well- it wasn’t exactly a lie)

“Wanna talk about it? Maybe it will help you clear your thoughts” he knew it wasn’t fair to lie to you. Pretend he was just a civilian guy that came up with solutions. But he loved to hear about your cases and help you solve them. There was some excitement in acting like Batman being Bruce.

“It’s nothing really, just another weird man wanting to play god in this city” you quickly tried to dismiss the conversation but Bruce seemed interested in what you had to say when he closed his computer and turned his full attention to you.

Noticing he wouldn’t let it go, you continued.

“There is this guy… Black mask he calls himself, basically an underworld king in Gotham” you said avoiding his gaze and looking at the papers on the table “Night clubs, drug trafficking, kidnapping, murders. Pretty sure he is involved with all that, but we can never get to him”

Bruce was well aware of who Black Mask was. He was working with you and Gordon to get a hand on this guy. But he listened to you talk about it like it was the first time he ever heard of it.

“You know this city. There is always a new guy in a weird costume wanting to rule it all” you added and turned quietly your attention to the papers not having anything else to add.

There was another thing Bruce liked about you. You never shared much about your cases. You would make a comment or two about what you were working on to keep a conversation but never gave away too much information. Always keeping professional. After all, he was just some civilian, he shouldn’t know about police cases with the details that you didn’t know he had.

“So I’m just trying to find some kind of loop. Something we can actually prove he was involved in. So we can arrest him and put an end to his reign”

He nodded and let you return your focus to your papers.

“So… is Batman helping you in this one?” he couldn’t help it, could he? immediately after he said that he regretted it. But he couldn’t help. Some weird part of him liked hearing you talk about him being oblivious of the situation.

“Yes, he is”' you said, turning back your attention to him “Ever since we heard of black mask first appearance actually. He is always such a big help.” Bruce had to hide his smirk hearing you talk about him like that.

“He doesn't need a court order. So he just goes there and kicks some ass. Is so cool. Of course, there are rules for a reason. And sometimes he breaks the law - which I don’t agree with - but sometimes, I swear, all that bureaucracy only delays our work. And he doesn't need that…” you kept babbling (like you usually do when you were nervous or excited) about the batman. And Bruce wasn’t having fun anymore.

He noticed that every time you started talking about Batman there was a behavior change. You would get excited. Usually, you start babbling. You would get excited like it was a topic you really liked to talk about.

So Bruce started overthinking this whole situation. You had been spending time together for over a month now. And he notice that not even once did he hear you talk about him with the excitement you talked about Batman. He tought about all your interactions with the dark knight and Bruce started thinking you were more confortable around Batman than with him

He swears to God. It’s like he is competing with himself over your attention.

And of course, you don’t know that. Which only makes it worse.

Bruce realized that he is jealous of himself. What a situation.

You kept rambling about Batman and how you were working together on the Black mask case. When you notice Bruce's change of expression. He suddenly seemed sad for a second only to turn clearly angry.

“What is it?” you asked, interrupting your rambling and looking straight into his eyes.

“What?”

“That face” you explained “You look angry. Did I say something wrong?”

He thought you wouldn’t notice it. He was always so good at keeping a poker face. Being an unreadable character. But to be fair to him, an ordinary person wouldn’t notice it. But you were no ordinary. You were a detective. You literally do this shit for a living.

“I’m not angry” he tried to assure you, but once again you weren’t convinced. “You didn’t say anything wrong, just keep going…” he tried to turn your focus away from him.

“No. You are” you said, straightening yourself in the chair and closing the file on the table to turn your attention fully to him, suddenly curious about what had made him angry, worried you said something to upset him. Slightly nervous. You were now worried you blew it all. Now that you were coming clear about your feelings for him. “I can see right through your face, don’t lie to me,” you said with a nervous laugh

“Right… with your detective superpowers,” he joked and chucked as an attempt to make time to think of a reasonable explanation. He couldn't lie to you cause you would see right through it. And he could tell you the truth without sounding vulnerable and stupid for being jealous of a girl who wasn’t even his.

“It’s not a superpower” you played along. “It’s science. People do involuntary microexpressions that leak what they're feeling even for a fraction of a second. And you know I happen to notice them.”

You had a conversation once about this. He remembers. You told him how you study it after seeing it in a Tv series because you thought it would be useful for your job. And that only made him admire you more. But he couldn't say he was surprised since he had that knowledge himself. But he had to admit, even Batman doesn't match you in that subject. Since you tend to look directlly at to people's faces way more than him.

“It seems like a superpower to me”

“Call it as you want. You still looked angry for a second back then” you said relaxing in the chair once again. But still holding your gaze on him, focused on getting the truth out of him even if it might hurt you.

Bruce was frustrated. He hasn’t thought about a way out. He hated how he normally would get out of this situation. But he hated how he couldn’t come clear when you were involved. It’s like you could see right through all his defenses. He ran his fingers to his hair before speaking.

"It 's just…” he hesitated “It’s just the way you talk about this Batman guy.”

Okay- that took you by surprise. Your mind was already going millions per mile thinking he ran out of patience waiting for you, or how he would ask you to leave his house cause you said something he didn’t agree with. You were surprised but relieved.

“You always seem so excited. And calling him ‘cool’. And repeating how nice is to work it him”

You couldn’t help but chuck. Both for your imagination and for the idea of Bruce Wayne being jealous of a guy in a costume.

“You’re jealous of Batman, Bruce?” you teased him

“Don’t laugh” he was beyond frustrated, he wanted to build a hole in the ground to jump on it, he have never felt this vulnerable, he thought it was ridiculous “You know what - forget it. It’s ridiculous” he quickly opened his laptop to pretend to proceed his work.

You noticed Bruce’s uncomfortableness. How his feelings were genuine but he instantly regretted manifesting them. You knew it wasn’t a common thing for him to do. How he was genuinely jealous of you and how embarrassed he was for expressing it.

And you thought it was cute. How a big guy like him (both on name and body) would easily fall apart over something so little. Bruce was always impressing you. That moment all doubts you had were gone. That little voice in your head saying that you weren’t enough disappeared. There was no Batman. The was no fear of relationship. You wanted to assure him that his feelings weren’t ridiculous.

So you got up from your chair at the table across from him. He noticed your movement but decided to focus on the blank screen of his laptop to pretend to be occupied. You made your way to him. You took all the courage you had. And sit on his lap. Surprising him he quickly turns his attention from the screen to you.

You gave him a sweet smile and cupped his face with both of your hands, making him look into your eyes.

“Well - I like you better than him” was all you could say. You couldn’t think of something nicer or more romantic to say. All you wanted to do was assure him there was no need for jealousy. You just wanted to assure him you liked him. And hoped he liked you too.

So you leaned in and closed the gap between your lips. He was quick to return the kiss. And in seconds you were in perfect balance. Like he was waiting to feel your lips for ages. The kiss was slow, you both proceeding with caution.

Your hands moved from his cheeks to the back of his neck. And his hands moved from the armchair to your hips. Without pulling apart you changed your position, pulling your legs apart to each side of him, trapping him in the chair.

You pull apart and you just stare at each other breathless, touching your foreheads. With both wide smiles. Neither of you said anything else. It wasn’t needed. You knew what the other was feeling clear. Completely vulnerable to each other. All the walls were down. And for the first time, feeling vulnerable wasn’t that bad.

Bruce connected your lips again. Then things got rougher. Full of desire and lust, instead of caution. You were both completely open.

The kiss heat up. His holds were still firm on your hips.

A groan escapes you when he started to give open-mouthed kisses on your jaw, your neckline. Not leaving any skin he could find untouched. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan.

“Bruce…” God he loved the way his name sounded in your mouth “how about you show me your room?”

Chapter 7 (Coming soon)

Finally!!!! I'm honestlly happy with how this chapter came out.

Hope you like it and let me know what you think

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@hauntingsonofrobin @missmannequin @justine-en @elizamalfoyy @thedumbgirl @simonsbluee @elena-mayfair @maluisamarvelfan123

(thank you all for the support)

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