#(idk if you’re the on who offered to do it with an empty account? I think I’ve got two shy cuties rn :3) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

btssunnyboy · 3 years

Text

Unbelievable - Choi San

He was always rude to you, embarrassing you in front of everyone. So why is he mad that someone better made you an offer?

Warning - Profanity, mention of caffeine, San is mean as fuck, Yandere towards the end, He makes a threat.

Word Count - 3,362 idk if they will be a part 2!

BTS , NCT , ATEEZ — request open.

__________________________________________

Good god, your blood was boiling the moment you saw his door crack open. You could feel your fingernails digging into your palms as you tried to remain calm. The last thing you needed to do was lose your temper and give this man another opportunity to ridicule in front of your co-workers. But judging by that horrendous look on his face you already have a gut feeling that all taht hard work to keep your anger in check is going to fly right through the window. Taking the deepest breath you could take and plastering on that fake smile, you gladly greeted the man that makes your life a living hell.

“These numbers are definitely not to my liking and I refused to be the laughing stock at the board meeting tomorrow.” He huffed heavily as he practically threw the binder down onto your desk. The heavy plastic slamming against the steel desk with a loud thud that echoed through the big hallway. The wind from the fall making papers that previously occupied your desk go flying in every single direction. You could feel your anger bubble up in your chest at the mere disrespect that this man was giving you, and it was driving you insane.

“With all do respect sir, it’s already twelve thirty, and I highly doubt I’ll be able to go over all of these documents by seven thirty in the morning.” You resisted their urge to grit your teeth as you wanted to appear somehow considerate of his complications. Truth be told you didn’t want to do another all nighter when you barely pulled through from the other night. “Besides, I looked over the revenue and margin growths three times before I sent them to your office.”

He scoffed loudly as he licked one of his fingers and then continued to rummage through the papers that were bonded together. His long finger skimmed over the lines multiple times and he flipped each page within a minute. Those piercing eyes stayed locked in on every single number that crossed the page. “Ah, right here it states that we made a profit revenue of fifty million last year, but then it states that this year we’ve only grossed sixty five million. And that’s definitely less than the fifty percent revenue growth that we expected.”

“So, sixty five is not as bad as you’re making it out to be, besides multiple people double checked.” You spoke tiredly as you started packing up your briefcase. Different papers getting stacked together and even crumpled because of the rapid pace that you were going. No matter what happens tonight you were leaving before the clock strikes one in the morning. As you were packing up your eyes met his furious ones and it felt like your world was crumbling down. “Mr. Choi, I’m being honest, your accounting department checked all of these numbers multiple times and I looked over them as much as I could.”

“I know for a fact that we had a fifty percent increase in revenue, now look over these damn numbers again. Or you’ll be kissing this cushy office job goodbye in the morning.” He harshly slammed the binder closed and stalked over to his office door. The audacity of that stupid man, how dare he even threaten you with this job. But as much as you wanted to spit in his face and tell him to shove it you really needed this job, this really well paying job.

You poked your cheek with your tongue out of agitation and roughly grabbed your purse. The bottle of caffeine pills made a clicking sound as you unscrewed the cap within a second. Without a drink of water you downed the pill and grabbed the ugly binder. This was going to be a long night, and these numbers were not going to supposedly fix themselves.

Your fingers tapped the keys on the keyboard rapidly as you searched each collaboration revenue. All of these numbers were lining up, no matter what you searched. Out of the six collaborations Choi enterprise only grossed sixty five million, but for some reason he just won’t listen. All you wanted to do at this point was slump forward and go to sleep, but with that anger that Mr.Choi has you’re scared he might kill you in your sleep. But as the long hours went on and on, you could feel yourself slipping. Your eyelids felt like a ton, and your head was suddenly too heavy for your neck to hold. Before you knew you were out like a light.

—

You’d shoot the person who was jabbing their finger into side if you could. Their bony finger feeling a knife stabbing your rib cage with immense pressure. “Please wake up, y/n, if he notices you’re asleep, who knows what he’ll do!” The jabbing didn’t cease one bit, in fact they just jabbed even harder.

“Okay! I’m up!” You groggily scoffed as your vision was trying to focus on the object in front of you. The figure was simply a mush of different colors all moving in different directions. The harsh lights in the office are in no way making the situation any better. You could make out their hand moving from left to right to try and grab your attention. “Hongjoong?”

“What are you, blind? Of course it’s me, but please I’m begging you get up and go freshen up in the bathroom.” He sighed sadly as he helped your wobbly stance straighten up. His soft hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you close. The soft scent of his cologne filling your nose as you clung to him. “Do you still carry extra clothes in your car?”

“Thankfully yes, but what time is it?” You question as you rubbed your eyes, trying to make all the colors of the world blend back together to form one coherent thing. “Oh god, is it past seven thirty, oh shit! He’s gonna kill me!”

“Calm down, it's only six thirty, but he always gets here at seven. So please go wipe that old makeup off and I’ll get your other clothes.” Hongjoong smiled slightly at you before his eyes shifted towards the oh so famous brown binder. “Did that dick make you go over more numbers the whole night?”

“God yes and it was terrible, but I looked over all six collaborations and I kid you not it all equals sixty five.” You could hear a pin drop on the silence that coated the room. It was beginning to feel suffocating and you physically felt your chest growing heavy with dread. “There were only six right, because that’s all the forms I received.”

“Maybe i'm just thinking of something else, because maybe just maybe -“

“Stop wasting time! Is there more than six?” You panicked as you shoved him away and pulled the rolling chair back to your side. Before your fingers could even reach the keys, Hongjoong’s were there in a second. They tapped rapidly and skimmed through all your emails at a neck breaking pace. “Oh my god I never refreshed the email.”

“We don’t have time to sit here and panic, we have three pages of numbers to go through.” Hongjoong tried to make the situation less tense by offering a helping hand, but he knew that if these numbers weren’t corrected all hell would break loose. And no one wanted to see what Choi San was like when he more than ticked off. He’d probably be past the point of furious if ever saw these unfinished numbers.

—

San’s eyes were narrowed as he eyed the unfamiliar man at your desk. Where the hell were you? He didn’t pay a shit ton of money for you to be everywhere and not in that chair looking pretty. But at this moment he couldn’t control himself as the words flew from his mouth. “What the hell is this?”

That look, that gorgeous look of fear that made his blood rush and his heart pound. Was etched across the unknown man's face and he was basking in the glory of it. San cocked his eyebrow slightly as he leaned forwards on his palms. “Did I suddenly grow two heads or some shit, no? Then answer my question, what the hell is this.”

“I’m so sorry Mr.Choi, but I didn’t notice that there were seven collaborations. I only had six in my email. And Mr.Kim was only helping me scrunch the numbers.”

“You mean to tell me that these numbers aren’t finished! And this meeting is in less than an hour?” His demeanor was calm but the sheer venom in his voice was enough to bring you to your knees. He poked his cheek with his tongue and gave a mean smile in your direction. “I mean it, l/n you’re on thin ice. But if those numbers aren’t corrected then you’re fired.”

“Yes sir.” You gulped as you watched him take heavy steps towards his office. You were in deep shit now. San rubbed his chin as he tried to remain calm and not fire you on the spot. Out of all the times you could have missed up, you decided now was the perfect time. Messing up these numbers would make other investors think that this company cannot handle the responsibility of simply matching numbers. This mistake could completely tank the company and put everyone here out of a job.

Fifty five minutes have passed and investors from other companies are already showing up at the doors. And here he was sitting at the head of the table empty handed, and it was all your fault. It was your fault for not refreshing that damn email, for not paying closer attention to the numbers, for simply not giving it your all. And now it’s going to be your fault that the entire company crumbles and falls straight into the depths below.

“So San, when is this meeting going to officially begin?” Questioned one of the many associates as he leaned back against the velvet chair. A smile bright on his face as if he didn’t care to wait a moment or two for it to begin. But, on the other hand, the leader of the meeting was so furious he could start foaming at the mouth. Because guess what crucial piece of information still wasn’t on his desk.

“We will begin momentarily if my secretary would get her head out of her ass and bring them those god damn numbers.” San spoke with a soft smile on his face. The look he gave the men was a completely different tone from the words he just spoke. Those words help fury and degradation but his smile was so bright it could light up a room or cause someone’s heart to flutter out of their chest. But at this moment all of those men knew at this moment San was anything, but happy.

The sound of the doorknob being yanked on caught everyone’s attention. Their heads jolted towards the cause of the noise as they watched you fiddled with the dozens of papers in her hand. Your smile was uneasy as you tried to reorganize them on your way towards the head of the table. They watched your clammy hands shake with fear as San ripped the paper from your hands. Judging by the way you quickly held your pointed and middle finger they could only guess what happened.

“Why the hell are you still standing here? Do I need to draw you a picture and make it clear that you’re done here?” San scolded as he shoved you a bit and forced you to walk to the door. Fumbling over your own two feet and almost hitting the floor head on at one point. But he didn’t care, because all he wanted to do right now was get this meeting over with. With a final shove and a quick slam of the glass door, he swiftly turned back around to be met with very difficult to decipher expressions.

“Well now that all distractions are gone, let’s get down to business.”

—

Your face was flushed and you could feel your hands start to shake. From the mere interaction with the stupid CEO. The vivid picture of his icy eyes and cold stare were burned into your brain, as his words pounded in your skull without mercy. The man practically belittled you, in a room full of successful CEOs who now probably think you’re a joke.

“Hey, don't worry yourself sick. It was an honest mistake.” Hongjoong consoled you as he eyed your shaken form. The tearful eyes and the constant bouncing of your leg was a dead giveaway of the way you felt at this moment. And he wanted nothing more than to just say everything will be okay, that everything is going to be just fine. But he can’t, because who knows what the jerk will do you do considering your almost costed him a deal.

“Do you think he’ll fire me?” The question hung in the air with such heaviness that it was almost hard to breathe. The thought of losing this job was sending you into a whirlwind of erratic emotions. If this job is gone, there goes the ability to afford your car, hell there goes the ability to afford the damn apartment you’re living in at this moment. You’ll lose eveything, if you’re cut off.

“He better not, and trust me if he ever does, I would be more than happy to have you on my team.” A new man smiled brightly in your direction as he made his way over to your desk. He wasn’t an unfamiliar face around the office as he and Mr.Choi have done business deals of many kinds in the past. “It would truly be an honor to have someone like you working at Jeon Marketing.”

A small smile took over your face as you eyed the man in front of you. Mr.Jeon was an extremely well known CEO in this business, and he’s not too much older than Mr.Choi. You’re genuinely surprised these men are allies in this type of business, if anything you thought they’d be enemies. “Thank you for such kind words, but trust me your opinion on me may change soon.”

“Nonsense, I’ve seen the way you handle situations at this company, especially time crunched ones. I can tell just by looking at your face you stayed up hours just to make sure his numbers were perfect.” Mr Jeon stated as he leaned forward on the desk and clapped his hand together. “And truth be told I wouldn’t mind having such a beautiful face be the face of my company.”

His compliment left you stumped as you eyed his face. The tone he held was lighthearted because he knew this stressful situation needed a little laughter, but you knew from the look on his face he was being serious. About both of his statements. Before you could form a response, he long fingers were reaching into his jacket pocket. “I promise, if you ever need anything. I’m just a call away.”

“His top rival and best friend just offered you a sweet ass deal, are you gonna take it?”

You truly didn’t know the answer to that. I mean on one hand you have your secretary job here, and it pays well. The boss may be a pain in the ass, but it’s the only thing keeping you afloat. And you know that these two companies are neck and neck right now for the top spot, so it’s hard to decipher just how much he’s willing to pay you. But would there be any harm in simply asking the man?

“I’m not gonna lie and say it doesn’t intrigue me, but at the same time I don’t wanna leave you all alone.” You mumbled as you tapped away at the computer keys. Just trying to find any small amount of information about his company. But only mere surface information popped up in the search box. “Would it be a bad thing if I did leave?”

“Sometimes trying something new is good thing, but it really all depends on how you feel. And I have a friend that works there and she told me she makes over 250k a year.” Hongjoong shrugged his shoulders as he stood up to leave. His soft eyes giving a sense of comfort as he started to walk away. “I promise whatever option you pick, you’ll be fine.”

A heavy huff of air passed through your lips as you tried to think of the right answer. If he was right you’d make just a little bit more working for him and he genuinely seems like a nicer boss in general. So the real question is what’s keeping you tied to this job? The only perk about this job is working with Hongjoong and he’s the main reason why you’ve stuck around this long. The men from before were now exiting San’s offer with bright smiles on their faces, and you could only conclude that those numbers truly were the right ones. But just as your eyes leave their smiles you’re met with someone who has the complete opposite expression.

He briskly walked towards you and hastily cleared his throat. The stone cold expression he was supporting made a shiver go down your spine. Without a second thought he grabbed your hand and hauled you off in the direction of his office, with his nails piercing the skin of your wrist. Within a second he shoved you into his office and slammed the door behind him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His stern voice echoed in the office. Bouncing off the walls left and right and continuing to bounce inside your skull. The fingernails that were pressing into your skin felt like sharp needles protruding into you. You could have sworn you saw blood pass through his fingers. “Answer me!”

“I’m sorry! But I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” You panicked as you tried to yank your arm away from his hardened grasp. Those eyes of his start to terrify you the longer you stay in his touch. But he wasn’t letting you get away if anything the more you struggled against him the tighter his hold got.

“I saw that dumb fucker hand you his card, and for some unknown reason you took it. So what that’s it, you’re just gonna fucking leave after everything I’ve done for you?” He spat words at you left and right. Not bothering to back up any of his claims. He speaks as if he’s given you pure gold to walk but in reality all he’s given you is eggshells. You have to be careful around you, you’re never treated well, and he wants to sit up on his throne and act as if he’s treated you like royalty?

“If anything you’ve given me shit! You’re treating me like crap any chance you get, I made one mistake and your response to that is belittling me in front of other people!” You shouted back with just as much venom as he has done to you. With a final yank from your arm, you relaxed yourself from his grip. Tired of his antics you looked him dead in the eyes and spoke. “And so what if I take his offer, he’d be a better boss than you ever were!”

“I mean it, L/n, you take that deal and I’ll make your life a living hell.” He threatened as he got closer and closer. His minty breath fanned your face slightly as he harshly grabbed your chin. “Trust me, this is one bet you’ll regret taking if you leave.”

“I’ll take that damn bet any day.” You tried to push his chest back but he was stronger than you. What surprised you the most was the cackle-like laugh that passed through his lips. A wide smile taking over his face and that somehow made the situation more sinister.

“I warned you, Y/n.”

238 notes · View notes

cali-holland · 3 years

Text

An Irregular Romance ★ Harrison Osterfield One Shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield X Reader

Summary: Over five years ago, Harrison followed his heart (a.k.a. you) to drama school, and the day he asked you out was the day he discovered you had a boyfriend. He thought that part of his past was behind him, but then he was cast as Leo in The Irregulars and you were cast as Bea. Romance and shenanigans ensue as he tries to navigate the resurrection of his crush on you.

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: spoilers for The Irregulars, swearing, drinking (reader gets v drunk at one point), cheating boyfriend + “open relationship” drama

Masterlist in bio

*Gif is not mine

A/N: inspired by harrison literally saying he followed the girl he liked to drama school but she didn’t like him back; the drama school is the brit school (idk if that’s what he was talking about but age wise it works better); also darci is 18+ in this fic bc it just fits better to make her around their age; plus i had to re-post this bc the tags didn’t work so rip

also just like to say a massive thank you to @duskholland for proofreading this for me :) you’re the best! this fic would be missing 90% of its commas if it wasn’t for you lmao

❁❁❁❁❁

Harrison had been buzzing with excitement all week. While he knew for sure that he had landed the role of Prince Leo in The Irregulars, he had no idea who the other cast members were. His agent learned from Netflix that they’d announce the cast on Saturday, so now here he sat, anxiously awaiting the news as he drank another pint with his good friends.

“Anything yet?” Tuwaine asked, refreshing his Twitter timeline.

“Nope.” Harrison said with a shake of his head as Netflix’s Instagram page remained unchanged as another minute went by.

“Maybe they’re announcing it at midnight.” Tom shrugged, trying to be useful to ease his friend’s nerves.

“Everyone would be asleep.” The blond replied before taking another long drink of his beer.

“Well, congratulations whenever they officially announce it.” Harry stated, standing up with his empty glass. “Next round’s on me.”

The conversation began to wander off, and Harrison found himself deep in thought, pondering his mysterious, new castmates. Would he like them? Would they like him? Were they big names or no names? Were they people he had screen-tested with (because, truthfully, he only screen-tested with a few girls, but even then, he didn’t screen test with all of the potential actresses)? As he got stuck, trying to think of someone he’d actually liked when they screen-tested together, he was snapped out of his thoughts by Tom yelling.

“It’s up!” Tom held his phone in the middle of the table as he, Harrison, Tuwaine, and Harry, who was now back with more beer, looked over the cast. A sense of pride soared through the group at Harrison’s picture and name being on the official Netflix page for The Irregulars. Harrison read over the other names, wondering if he knew any by happenstance. Just as he recognized one name in particular, Tom spoke up.

“Y/N Y/L/N? Isn’t that the girl you fancied in drama school?” Tom asked with a smirk. His smirk seemed to widen as Harrison blushed a deeper shade of red.

“No, no, no!” Harrison grumbled, taking out his phone to look over the post for himself because maybe, if he looked from his own account, the cast would magically change. When he looked at your name and picture right beside his, realization hit him. He slumped over, putting his head down on the table regretfully.

“I’d nearly forgotten about Haz’s girl that wasn’t his girl.” Tuwaine joked.

“Wait, what girl?” Harry questioned, out of the loop.

Perhaps the stupidest but best choice Harrison had ever made in his life was following you, his biggest crush, to drama school. Why his mother even let him chase after a girl like that was beyond him; he thought she should’ve advised him against it, but with the whole “follow your heart” attitude, his mum was his biggest supporter. He did his best to impress you, to get you to notice him, but you were unfazed by him. The day that he finally got the courage to ask you out was the day that he learned you’d had a boyfriend for the past two months.

Though he didn’t get the girl in drama school, he actually enjoyed it, and look where he ended up now— a new Netflix show was on the horizon for him. Despite the fact that he was (and still sort of is) crushed and embarrassed by the fact that you (very kindly) rejected him five years ago, drama school turned out to be a blessing.

“Harrison, here,” Tom laughed as he clapped his friend’s shoulder as Harrison still didn’t lift his head from his pitiful position, “thought he’d pursue acting because Y/N wanted to be an actress. He didn’t realize that in order to get her attention, he’d have to actually talk to her.”

That was enough to make Harrison lift his head, eyeing his friend questioningly. Cutting Tom off, he defended himself, “What do you mean? I did talk to her.”

“Right— you’d have maybe one conversation with her every three weeks.” Tom turned back to his brother, “Anyway, Haz finally asked her out and, turns out, she’d been dating this other guy for months.”

“Whatever. I only asked her out because you and Tuwaine shoved me into her. Maybe she doesn’t even remember me.” Harrison pulled out his phone to check over Netflix’s Instagram, wanting to see for himself the new cast again. When he opened the app, it notified him of all the new followers he had gotten, and, with one glance at the list of names, one account stood out to him.

‘@yourusername started following you’. Harrison let out a sigh, not wanting to dwell on this any further.

“She works fast.” Harry teased, looking over the blond’s shoulder.

“We’re co-stars now. She probably followed everyone else too.”

As if on cue, a new notification came through his Instagram— ‘@yourusername sent you a message’. With bated breath, he opened it to see the message that confirmed his worst fear— you remembered him.

‘Hey stranger! How have you been?’

❁❁❁❁❁

With every passing day, Harrison’s excitement for this new big project grew… but so did his dread about seeing you again. He wasn’t entirely sure now as to why his gut was filled with butterflies mixed with anxiety just thinking about you. You were only ever nice to him, both before and after he asked you out. It all led him back to the same conclusion that he still had a thing for you, but yet again, maybe it’s just life that your first real crush always has some power over you.

As he walked down the strangely long hallway to the conference room, he adjusted the collar of his letterman’s jacket. Today was the big day— the first table read for The Irregulars, and the first day he’d be confronted by you after all these years. Just on the other side of this door, his co-stars and the main production crew were waiting. Everything was real now; production would start in just a few days.

With one last nervous breath, he pushed open the heavy oak door and entered the room. People were chatting as they sat around the large conference table, which had small name cards at each seat. Harrison’s eyes found you almost immediately. You were locked into a conversation with your co-star, Darci, seated to your left for the table read. To your right was one of the last available seats, and Harrison’s name was on the little card on the table. All hopes of being unnoticed by you were instantaneously gone as he took his seat beside you.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You said to Harrison with a laugh, and he was instantly reminded of how that laugh basically drove him to where he was today.

“How long has it been?” Harrison asked, trying to play it cool like he hadn’t been rehearsing this day in his mind for the past several months.

“Far too long.” You smiled.

As the last few people trickled into the room, introductions flew around the table as everyone met their new coworkers. After a cold read-through of the script and a few words from the show’s creator, the table read was deemed over. Just when Harrison thought he was free to forget about your existence for a few more days, you pulled him aside.

“Hey, Darci and I were going to get drinks with McKell and Jojo. You should come.” You offered, and Harrison chanced a glance across the room to where Darci was chatting with your other two main co-stars.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Harrison replied. He cleared his throat before giving you a definite nod that yes, that’d be a great idea.

“Perfect.”

And just like that, the five of you made your way across town to a pub. Darci had chosen the spot, explaining that it was the best place for drinks in Liverpool, and, seeing as she’d lived there her whole life, none of you tried to argue with her.

Harrison felt a strange pit in his stomach as everyone talked and laughed over some beers, as if you weren’t all strangers a few hours ago. His eyes always seemed to land on you and your contagious smile. You looked almost exactly how he remembered you, and you still were the same happy, go-lucky girl he’d fallen hard for. It was crazy to him how quickly you gave him butterflies, how effortlessly you made him feel like a silly schoolboy all over again. He couldn’t help but wonder if you thought he’d changed since his school days, too… or if you even thought about him enough to notice. So far, you’d made no indication that he was anyone besides an old friend from drama school, making him hope you didn’t remember that dreadful day.

As you and Darci excused yourself for a bathroom break, Harrison gave himself a little reminder that he was meant to be getting to know all of his co-stars right now and wasn’t meant to be focusing so intently on you. He took another sip of his beer, turning back to Jojo and McKell.

“So how do you and Y/N know each other?” McKell asked, and Jojo tried to hide his shit-eating grin behind his beer.

“Drama school, a few years ago.” Harrison replied, trying to play ignorant.

“Ah, so it’s a schoolboy crush, then?” Jojo questioned teasingly.

Harrison felt his face heat up. Jojo and McKell were practically strangers to him, and they already knew. He was cornered, “Is it that obvious?”

“A little.” McKell said while Jojo simultaneously replied, “Very.”

“Just ask her out.” Jojo encouraged.

“That’s the problem— I did.” Harrison replied, and both of their jaws dropped.

“No way. Did she let you down easy at least?” McKell’s voice was somewhere between a disbelieving, teasing, and pitiful tone.

Harrison scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “Well, yeah? I mean she wasn’t rude about it, but it was still a bit awkward. She was dating this other guy at the time. He didn’t go to our school, though, so I had no clue about him.”

“That’s rough.” Jojo grimaced, before he gave Harrison a hopeful smile, “Maybe she’s single now.”

“I’ve been rejected by Y/N once— I don’t need her to reject me a second time.” He shook his head with a small laugh to conceal his embarrassment. He took a drink of his beer, hoping that would calm his nerves a little.

“Incoming,” McKell said quietly, nodding in the direction of the bathroom.

“What’d we miss?” Darci asked as she slipped back into her seat. You remained standing to put your jacket on, both you and Darci completely unaware of the boys’ conversation.

“Nothing, just Jojo being an idiot.” McKell joked, to which his newfound friend just punched him in the arm, taking another long drink of his beer.

“I think I might head back to the hotel.” Your words were met with a collective groan from three of your co-stars— Harrison silently frowned as he sipped on his beer.

As your head was down to collect your things, Jojo swiftly kicked Harrison under the table. Harrison looked at him quizzically, sending him a “what the hell was that for” look. When his co-star just nodded his head encouragingly towards you, Harrison got the idea.

“I’ll walk you.” Harrison said, making you look over at him. Standing up from his seat, he insisted, “I was just about to head out, too.”

“Okay,” You smiled, still completely unaware of his interaction with Jojo.

After you all exchanged phone numbers and created a group chat lovingly titled “The Irregz”, you and Harrison left the pub. You fell in step together, walking along the sidewalk in the chilly Liverpool air back to the hotel that you’d all be staying at for the next few months.

“So what have you been up to since graduation?” Harrison asked you, his hands deep in the pockets of his letterman’s jacket.

“All sorts of things, really.” You shrugged with a smile, “I got a few TV roles here and there, did some modeling, but so far none of it has really stuck, so I’m hopeful that this will be a foot in the door. What about you?”

“The same as you, really, but, instead of shows, I’ve done some short films.”

“I see you’re still best friends with Tom.” You said in a teasing tone. Harrison felt an unusual, upsetting tug on his heartstring. Not noticing any change in his demeanor, you continued with a laugh, “It’s funny. I would’ve placed my bets on you being world-famous after graduation.”

“Me?” He questioned, surprised by your words.

“Yeah, you didn’t go to LAMDA for nothing.” You playfully nudged his arm with your elbow, and he felt his cheeks heat up once more. “Don’t be modest— I’m not wrong.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.” A laugh passed his lips, any previous bashful reservations slowly fading away.

Before Harrison could say anything further, your phone began to ring. You fished it out of your pocket and barely looked at the caller ID before sending it to voicemail. Your actions were fast, but Harrison still caught the name of who was calling, Davey, followed by a red heart emoji. And that’s when it hit him— you were still with the same boyfriend from drama school, all those years ago.

And just like that, Harrison felt a tsunami wave of heartbreak from drama school wash over him.

“Hey, Y/N!” Harrison called out as he stumbled his way over to stall you from leaving school. He had one hand holding onto his book bag strap tight enough that his knuckles were turning white, and he shuffled his other through his hair.

“Hey, is everything alright?” You asked, concerned at how nervous he seemed.

“Yeah, um, well, tonight’s opening night for West Side Story, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? I know it’s your favorite play, and it’s one of mine too, so, yeah, I thought maybe we could go together?” He was sure that he’d never sounded so unsure of himself. Truth is, he didn’t want to ask you out right now, but Tom and Tuwaine had quite literally shoved him in your direction, physically encouraging him. He felt rushed and unprepared.

When you smiled so captivatingly and softly at him, he felt his racing heart speed up even more. Was this it? Was he really going to take you on a date? He thought to himself. His hopes weren’t up for long as you spoke up, “I can’t. I’ve already got tickets for tonight. I’m going with Davey.”

“Davey?”

“My boyfriend.” You replied, a hint of guilt in your voice.

His heart shattered. The only reason he was here, at this school, was because of you, and now he just had all of his hopes for any future dates with you thrown out the window.

“You and Davey are still together?” Harrison wondered aloud as you two arrived at the hotel.

“Yeah,” Your response was hesitant and quiet. He knew why— there was that elephant in the room between the two of you.

Before he could stop himself from mentioning it, he blurted out, “You don’t have to feel guilty about it, you know.”

You paused, watching unsure as he ran a hand through his hair nervously. “I kinda wonder what would’ve happened if I had said yes. Davey and I didn’t even end up seeing West Side Story, anyway, so I wonder if you and I would’ve ended up any differently.”

It wasn’t much, but his heart sped up ever so slightly— so you had thought about him, even in the dating context. Harrison couldn’t think of a response (his brain repeated “fuck Davey, ask her out again”) fast enough as you stopped at the front desk. You mumbled something about needing some towels, and Harrison took that as his cue to just continue walking. He bid you a quick farewell, wanting to escape to his room as fast as possible.

Nothing you had said tonight had been particularly flirty, but he still rewound the events in his head because maybe he missed something. As he laid down in his bed that night, his mind drifted off with thoughts of you, wondering just how he’d manage to pull off these next few months without falling for you all over again.

Over the next several weeks, his predicament only seemed to grow. Spending so much time with you (and your other three co-stars) just made Harrison wish even more that he’d asked you out sooner in drama school, and having to spend most of his screen time gawking over you added to it further. Maybe it was another school boy crush, or maybe it was intense method acting— either way, he definitely liked you.

Ever since he read the script for episode four, he knew that eventually your two characters would become romantically involved. He would’ve felt giddy over the thought (because his eighteen-year-old self would’ve died at this opportunity), but whenever he thought of the scene, he was reminded about your boyfriend. Harrison wasn’t the type of guy to hate his crush’s boyfriend, but something just didn’t seem right about Davey.

Harrison was lying on his hotel bed, reading over the episode’s script for what must have been the fifth time through that afternoon. It was Sunday, the day before you’d both film Leo and Bea’s kiss. With a beer on his side table and an array of highlighters beside it, he was set. As the words started to run together, and his glasses began to feel uncomfortable on his nose, he heard a knock at his door.

“Coming!” Harrison called out. Setting his script aside, he rolled off the bed. He was confused at who could possibly be at his door, but, figuring it was someone from set, he had the decency to slip on a white t-shirt, opting for not answering the door in nothing but grey sweats. He was thankful for his last-minute decision as he opened the door and was met with you on his doorstep. Smiling at you and leaning on the doorframe, he let out a small, “Hey.”

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to rehearse tomorrow’s scene.” You offered with a friendly smile on your face.

“Right now?” He asked, glancing back into his room to decipher if it was clean enough or not.

“Oh, is this a bad time?” You replied, subconsciously stepping back. “Is someone here?”

“What?” Harrison looked at you, confused before it clicked what you thought, “Oh, no, no. There’s no one here. I was just rehearsing, too.”

“So is that a yes then or-?” You trailed off.

“Yeah, come on in.” He opened his door fully, allowing you to step in. He chivalrously closed the door behind you. “Would you like water or anything?”

“Can I have a beer?” You asked, spotting the one on his nightstand.

“Sure.” Harrison nodded. While he got you a beer and grabbed his own half-consumed bottle and script, you settled on the couch with your pages in hand.

“Thank you.” You smiled as he handed you the beer, and you took a sip happily. “You know, I’m honestly so jealous of you this week.”

“Why?” He asked with a laugh, thrown off guard by your confession.

“You get to do all the palace scenes again.”

“I also throw myself off a balcony.”

“But still.” You insisted. “Leo really needs to sneak Bea into the palace just so I can have one of those extravagant ball dress scenes. I just want to feel like a princess, and I feel like it’s what Bea deserves.”

Harrison looked at you admiringly for a moment. “You are a princess.” His face dropped as soon as he realized he’d said his thoughts aloud. Coughing, he tried to cover it up, “I mean—- you were kind of princess-like in episode 3, right?”

“Smooth.” You laughed, but didn’t press the situation. Your phone began to ring, and Harrison watched as you rolled your eyes, declining the call and ultimately silencing your phone.

“Spam call?”

“More like clingy non-committal somewhat boyfriend.” You stated, rolling your eyes.

He furrowed his eyebrows, confused. You hadn’t mentioned Davey in the past few weeks— not that Harrison was complaining, but he just assumed you were private about your personal life. “I thought you and Davey were on good terms?”

“We are? I don’t know.” You sighed, taking a sip of your beer.

“If you’re not comfortable with the topic, we can just rehearse-”

“No, it’s fine. I just haven’t really talked about it with anyone. Before I came here, he asked about having an open relationship while I’m away, and I told him no. And the last time we talked, we got into an argument and that was a couple days ago. I’m not ready to talk to him, and at this point, I’d much rather talk to you than him. It’s very frustrating that he wants to have an open relationship, but he still expects me to be at his beck and call. It’s like he’s looking for someone to substitute me, but I can’t have a life of my own. He wasn’t the most supportive of me taking this job in the first place, too.” You paused, with a small shrug, “I know you’re probably thinking I should leave him, but I can’t. We’ve been together for 5 years. I don’t know anything else at this point.”

“I get it.” Harrison said softly, hesitantly resting a comforting hand on your knee. “He was your first love. It makes sense that it’s hard to move on.” He felt his own heart sink at his ironic words. After all, you were his first love.

“I wouldn’t say he’s my first love.” You said softly, placing your hand on his, squeezing it gently. “Plus, at this point, I wouldn’t even say I love him.”

A silence fell in the room. Harrison really didn’t know what to say now. He would have told you to leave him, but you already knew that, so what was the point in him repeating it? Besides, it was your relationship, and you needed to make the decision for yourself… or let Davey make it for you.

“Let’s go through the scene, yeah?” You asked, changing the topic. You dropped his hand to pick up your script again.

“Right.” Harrison mumbled to himself, flicking through the pages to the scene.

You glanced around his hotel suite for a moment, looking for something similar to a bridge rail to lean on. “Should we use the kitchen counter? As the bridge rail?”

“Yeah, that works.” He nodded. The two of you got up, scripts in hand. Harrison stood to your right, just as the stage direction had called for. There was some space between the two of you, enough room for Harrison to shuffle closer to you later, as scripted.

“You’re not on your own, Beatrice. You must remember that.” Harrison said to you, leaning on the counter but looking over to you with his icy blue eyes. “You’re very different to anyone I’ve ever met.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking at him curiously.

“You have something about you.” He started, awkwardly.

You cut him off, “Like a smell?”

“No, like a quality.” He chuckled softly before continuing, “I don’t know what it is, but I really like it.”

“Well, when you think of it, let me know.”

“I’ll be sure to.” He smiled at you, his confidence slowly building as the scene continued on. Harrison stepped closer to you until he was right beside you, leaning sideways on the counter. “And I’m not saying you don’t smell, by the way. I’m just saying that that’s not the thing.”

You laughed, turning your head away from him in disbelief. “You know, I was thinking of kissing you, but now I’m not gonna.”

Harrison paused, taking a moment to mentally hype himself up for what was about to happen, but also taking a moment because it was scripted for Leo to be nervous. “Well, uh, I suppose I have to kiss you then.”

You turned to him, smiling coyly. Slowly, Harrison closed his eyes and leaned in. His heart started racing faster as he felt your breath fan against his face before his lips finally found yours. It was gentle and hesitant, everything that it had been scripted to be. As much as he wanted to keep kissing you and keep tasting the sweet strawberries of your lipgloss, it had to end. He pulled away after a moment, and you seemed almost breathless as you opened your eyes to see him again.

“I meant it when I said you’re not on your own.” Harrison looked at you with more hesitancy this time, but he still kissed you with the softest passion. The script said that Leo and Bea kiss and continue to kiss for a few seconds; Harrison wasn’t counting, but he was sure this kiss was longer than it was meant to be. Again, he found himself dreading its inevitable end. If there was one thing he could do for the rest of his life, it’d be this… well, this amongst other things with you. His stomach started to stir with guilt as he remembered Davey; you were still technically in a relationship, open or not, arguing currently or not. But then it clicked with Harrison, you weren’t pulling away— no, you were fully kissing him back.

Before he could pull away and end the scene with his last few lines, a knock came from his door. Regretfully, he stepped away from you. He didn’t meet your eye as he went to answer the door while you read over the script on the counter. Flustered, he opened the door.

“Mum! You’re here.” Harrison’s eyes went wide, surprised to see his mother and his sister standing before him.

“Surprise!” She smiled, hugging him almost immediately. “We had to come and see you at your big job.”

“Are you not happy to see us?” Charlotte teased, and Harrison shook his head, pulling her in for a hug. As they all stepped into Harrison’s apartment, you waved from the kitchen.

“Hi.” You smiled, coming over to introduce yourself.

“Oh, mum, Charlotte, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my mum and Charlotte, my sister.” Harrison introduced the three of you.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N from drama school?” Phil said with a smile, making the connection as you shook her hand. Charlotte seemed to stifle a laugh as Harrison’s cheeks heated up.

“Yes, that sounds like me.” You laughed, brushing off any awkwardness that Harrison feared was there. “We were just rehearsing our scene for tomorrow.”

“Maybe we can come to set.” Phil suggested, sending Harrison an expectant look.

“I’ll have to ask. This is so, so last-minute, though, so I don’t know.” He replied.

“It’s a spontaneous weekend trip.” Charlotte clarified.

“We should get some dinner. We haven’t eaten much all day.” Phil told Harrison before turning to you, “Y/N, you should come, too. It’d be so lovely to get to know you.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” You trailed off, glancing at Harrison. He sent you a silent look that said ‘she seriously does want you to come… If you don’t come, I won’t hear the end of it’. “I’d love to. I just need to go change first.”

You grabbed your script off the counter, and Harrison walked you to the door. “How long do you need?”

“Like 10 minutes?” You replied, and he nodded.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were coming, or that they’d invite you to dinner.” He said quietly, making you laugh.

“It’s fine, but I do have to warn you, if my parents spontaneously drop by, they don’t know who you are.” You teased.

He let out an embarrassed groan, “Let’s not talk about that.”

“See you in ten.” You sent him a wink before leaving to your own hotel room. As Harrison closed the door and turned back around, he was met with the smirking faces of his mother and sister.

“So, is there anything you want to tell us?” Phil asked.

“We were rehearsing. That’s all.” Harrison insisted, going through the wardrobe to find some clothes to change into for dinner.

“Huh,” Charlotte trailed off, crossing her arms. “So, you wearing sparkly lip gloss that matches Y/N’s is a coincidence?”

“It’s a kiss scene tomorrow. We rehearsed the lines and the kisses, too.” He explained. With a pair of jeans, a clean shirt, and his red letterman jacket in hand, he made his way to the bathroom.

“Oh, multiple kisses.” She teased, making him roll his eyes.

“She has a boyfriend!” Harrison ended the conversation, closing the door to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, you returned back to Harrison’s room, and the four of you left, making your way to an Italian restaurant nearby. You and Harrison shared anecdotes about filming so far, keeping spoilers to a minimum until the server came with your food.

“We got in so much trouble from the makeup and hair department.” You laughed as Harrison finished telling them of how you two went on the playground last week, much to the chagrin of the crew.

“It was worth it.” He added.

“Who would’ve known you’d play a Netflix prince?” Charlotte asked teasingly, but it was clear she was still proud of his achievements.

“Look at that face. He couldn’t play anything but a prince.” You joked, and he smiled smugly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He stated.

“Phil, I have to say, I’ve never met someone more well suited to play a well-mannered prince.” You told her, playfully pinching Harrison’s cheek beside you.

“I remember when there was a time he was revolted at the idea of playing a prince.” Phil said, her lips growing into a smirk, and Harrison knew exactly what that meant.

“Mum, no—“ He started, but you just shushed him, wanting to hear whatever embarrassing story was about to be told.

“He watched a single Batman movie growing up— and not even a good one at that, and decided he simply had to be Batman.” She explained. “Then the Christopher Nolan ones came out, and there was no stopping him.”

“Every kid wants to be a superhero, and Batman is simply the best one.” He said as if it was obvious.

“I didn’t know you had a Batman phase.” You teased.

“Phase? He still has posters and comic books and dolls.” Charlotte added.

“Action figures.” He corrected her, making you laugh at the humor of it all.

“You know, honestly, I think I still have Catwoman action figures.” You admitted, trying to make him feel better, and Phil’s eyes lit up as she remembered another story.

“I cleaned your room a couple weeks ago, Harrison, and I was surprised to see you still Anne Hathaway as Catwoman posters.”

“Do we really have to talk about that? Does this torture not end?” He groaned.

“Fine. That’s enough for tonight.” Phil let out a defeated sigh, clearly enjoying herself.

“Y/N, if you want the really embarrassing stories, you’ve got to talk to Tom. He’s told me embarrassing Harrison stories that I can’t say in front of mum.” Charlotte laughed, and Harrison’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head at his sister’s words.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You smiled coyly.

“Sometimes, I wonder if he forgets that I know just as much embarrassing shit that he did growing up, too.” Harrison stated, shaking his head.

The night went on with minimal embarrassment on Harrison’s end. After Phil and Charlotte went back to their hotel, you and Harrison started the walk back to your own hotel. As you walked, your hands would brush against each other’s every so often, but neither of you made any move to take it further.

“Darci’s going to be so jealous in the morning.” You said, making him laugh a little.

“Why’s that?”

“That’s her favorite restaurant in town. Plus, I just got a free meal.” You laughed. A visible shiver coursed through you as the chilly night air picked up.

“Are you cold?” Harrison asked, already taking off his letterman’s jacket.

“Thank you.” You replied, taking his offer of warmth. Your short sleeves did nothing to shield you from the cold, but he had at least been prepared enough with long sleeves. “Are you sure you won’t get chilly?”

“I’ll be fine.” He reassured you.

“I had a really nice time tonight. I’m glad your mum invited me.” You admitted happily.

“Me, too. Apart from all of the embarrassment I just went through, I enjoyed tonight.”

“I never knew you had a secret Batman fanboy side.”

“I never knew you had a secret Catwoman fangirl side.” He countered with a smile.

“Guess that means we make a good team, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

As you smiled at him, completely content under the moonlight, he wanted nothing more than to kiss you right then, to taste the sweetness of your strawberry lip gloss again. The last bit of your walk was filled with you two arguing over Batwoman and Catwoman, two things that neither of you had ever realized you had in common before.

Harrison’s wish finally came true the next day, as you two ran through the kiss scene multiple times. It was strange at first for him, because his sister and mother were intently watching, proud to see him in action, even if it was just a kiss scene over and over again. But, with you there, he grew more and more comfortable with each take.

As a few more weeks passed by, Harrison thought that perhaps you and Davey had officially ended things, but then he heard through Darci that you had magically worked it out. Whatever magic it was, he was upset about it, and he found himself increasingly irritated at the mention of Davey.

“Ooh, we finally get to meet the Davey tonight?” Darci asked as the five of you enjoyed lunch in between shots. It had been two weeks Harrison’s mother and sister visited, and now Davey was coming, much to Harrison chagrin.

“He’s only here for two days.” You explained, taking a bite of your sandwich.

“Ah, so you’ll be very busy, then.” McKell teased, suggestively nudging your side with his elbow. You brushed off his comment with a laugh, avoiding Harrison’s eyes.

“We should get him to do that calzone challenge with us.” Jojo said to Harrison. Although Jojo and McKell had been rather supportive of Harrison’s interest in you at the beginning, they seemed to forget about it most of the time now— for which he was actually kind of grateful.

The conversation couldn’t go any further as the director came into the room, holding the script in his hands. The look on his face told all of you that something was up. He looked between you and Harrison before speaking, “Change of plans for tomorrow. Eileen isn’t feeling well, so we’ll film Bea and Leo’s scene tomorrow instead of her scenes.”

“But tomorrow was supposed to be—“ You started, but cut yourself short, realizing there was no point in arguing. Schedules, plans, things all change, and this was just part of the job. “Never mind.”

“Well, tomorrow will be interesting.” Darci said quietly, voicing what was on everybody’s minds.

The director left with a silent nod, and the room fell silent for a moment. You and Harrison wouldn’t dare to look at each other, both of you feeling awkward suddenly. Making out with Harrison multiple times, especially with your boyfriend there, was not something either of you particularly enjoyed the thought of.

Having to film no more scenes today, Harrison went back to the hotel with Jojo and McKell. He didn’t end up seeing you for the rest of the day, but he was okay with that as he wanted to go as long as he could without meeting Davey. The director had taken some pity on the two of you, asking you to come in later in the morning instead of at 6 AM like usual.

Harrison made his way down to the hotel gym, wanting to utilize his newfound free time. Normally, he’d get his daily workout in after filming, but he didn’t see a reason to not get an early start today. He didn’t expect anyone to be up this early, but as he got closer to the gym, he could hear a voice coming from inside the room, the door cracked just slightly.

“Love, I promise I’ll be back in two days.” The stranger paused before continuing, “You know I’m only here for business, nothing else.”

Curious and trying to decide if he should even enter the room, Harrison snuck a quick glance through the crack in the doorway. He felt his blood run cold as he immediately recognized the guy sitting on the weight bench. Afterall, Harrison had looked at your social media enough to recognize your olive-skinned boyfriend, Davey.

“Bit early for you, isn’t it?” Harrison nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of your voice from down the hall. He heard Davey mumbled something on the other side of the door, probably having heard your voice too.

“Yeah, but I just figured I’d start my pull-ups early today.” He replied before opening the door for you, acting like he had no clue that Davey had been in there.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Davey said to you, completely ignoring Harrison. He stood from his spot at the weight bench to wrap his arms around your waist and kiss you possessively.

“Davey, this is Harrison, he plays Leo. Harrison, this is Davey.” You introduced the two guys.

Davey looked Harrison up and down with his dark brown eyes and seemed to stand straighter, even though the blond was inches taller. Harrison was the first to step forward and politely outstretch a hand to the raven-haired guy before him. With a tight smile, Davey shook his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

Davey turned back to you, “Spot me?”

“Actually, I wanted to-” Your eyes drifted over to the treadmill as Harrison got in position to start his pull-ups at the bar. Davey looked at you expectantly, and you nodded, silently agreeing to stand there and spot Davey while he bench pressed.

Slipping on his headphones and turning on some music, Harrison began his workout. He played his music loud enough to block out your conversations with Davey. Not only was it none of his business, but god, Harrison really hated everything about him already. Hearing silence between you and Davey when his song changed, Harrison spared a glance over towards you. He was surprised when he found your eyes trained on him or, rather, trained on his abdomen that seemed to stick out from his tight white shirt. Still unaware of his eyes on you, your own eyes trailed up to his arms, watching as they flexed with each pull-up. Feeling flustered by your fixed gaze, Harrison faltered a little, and your eyes immediately darted back to Davey in front of you. Harrison couldn’t help the proud smile that ghosted his lips as he continued— you were checking him out.

Harrison finished his workout and decided to get cleaned up before heading to set in half an hour, leaving you and Davey in the gym. When he left, he was surprised that you were still spotting Davey, getting no work out in like you had planned. The whole time he was getting cleaned up (and brushing his teeth repeatedly to ensure he had good breath), he just kept picturing your staring in his head. He had worked very hard to get his body in this shape, and he was very proud of himself too, but he was even prouder that you’d clearly taken notice. If anything, it almost excited him that they’d be filming this scene today. There were a few times in this episode specifically in which Leo is shirtless, but none of those scenes had been filmed— and if this scene was going to be anything like it was scripted to be, then you’d definitely get a better show than in the hotel gym.

He didn’t see you again until the two of you were on set, in full costume and makeup. He had a loose shirt on, but underneath it, his chest had been painted with blues and purples to make convincing bruises. As he went to his mark, Leo’s makeshift bed on the floor of the cellar, Harrison spotted Davey across the set, looking bored and unhappy. His blue eyes drifted over to you next, and he refrained himself from smirking as he noticed your makeup artist applying chapstick to your lips.

While you gathered your prop lantern and the lights dimmed around you all, Harrison made himself comfortable under the ragged blankets. The director called out “Action!” and Harrison closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep as he waited for you to come into the shot. Hearing your footsteps, Harrison stirred, blinking his eyes open.

“Bea, is everything alright?” He asked, looking up at you as you stood over him.

“Let me see your body.” You said definitively.

“Beatrice—” He started, but you cut him off.

“Show me, Leo. I want to see it.” At your words, Harrison shifted slowly, moving as if in pain. He pulled the blankets down and went to roll up his shirt. “Take your top off.”

He paused, looking at you questioningly with a hint of fear in his eyes. Groaning a little, Harrison sat up and removed his shirt. He looked at you expectantly, and you set aside the lantern before kneeling on the blankets beside him. Your hand drifted over the painted bruise tentatively, ghosting over the same abs that you had been studying just hours earlier. Harrison waited for you to deliver your next line, knowing he was scripted to kiss you after it. It felt like ages that he was waiting for you, wanting nothing more than to kiss you right now. His mind went blank as your eyes found his and you leaned in to kiss him.

It was unscripted, and he was surprised, but he didn’t let his surprise stop him from immediately kissing you back. Your chapstick tasted of strawberries, just as it had the last time the two of you had a kissing scene, and he swore he was in love with the taste of it. He expected to hear the director yell cut, to hear him question why you suddenly improvised, but when nothing came, he just continued to kiss you. You pulled back, a shy smile on your face, “I don’t want you to hide your body from me anymore. It’s too nice to be hidden.”

His heart leapt as he leaned forward to catch your lips once more, this time scripted. His hands shuffled to your waist, pulling you down to lay beside him as he rolled onto his side, his chest leaning over yours. Your fingers tangled into his hair, and he savored the feeling.

You pulled back again, whispering up to him, “No more hiding.”

“No more hiding.” He reaffirmed. As he continued to kiss you, his hands sensually wandered down your back, keeping you as close to him as possible. Part of him wanted to pause the intimate scene and pinch himself, just to make sure it was really happening, but he was worried if he stopped kissing you now that he’d never get the opportunity to kiss you like this again.

“Cut!” The director called, and Harrison reluctantly pulled away from you. He could’ve sworn a small frown passed your lips as he looked down at you, not having shifted off of you yet.

“Spearmint— my favorite.” You teased quietly, as if it was only for the two of you to hear. As you laughed underneath him, Harrison couldn’t help but wonder what his younger self would think if he knew he’d one day get to make out with Y/N Y/L/N. Even if it was just for the show, it was a sight that he’d always want to remember.

“I’ve always enjoyed the taste of strawberries.” He replied softly, rolling away from you.

The director ran you two through a couple pointers for the scene, and, to Harrison’s surprise, he even suggested Bea kissing Leo first, just like you had improvised. You reasoned that you forgot your line momentarily, but something about the way you kissed Harrison made him feel like that wasn’t the case; no, it seemed like you’d truly wanted to kiss him.

After running through the scene a few more times, the director was satisfied. While you stayed behind on set to film more scenes, Harrison returned to his hotel room. Just as he was searching his toiletry bag for some much-needed chapstick, his phone began to ring with a Facetime call. Seeing Harry’s contact photo light up on his screen, he accepted and set his phone aside momentarily. He didn’t need to wonder what Harry (and most likely Tom, Tuwaine and maybe even Sam) were calling about— he had made the dire mistake of telling his easily-excited best friends about today’s scene.

“Why are we looking at your ceiling?” Harry asked almost immediately.

“I’m, uh, looking for lip balm.” Harrison admitted quietly and smiled to himself when he found some. He quickly put it on and then grabbed his phone, heading to his bed where he could comfortably talk to his friends.

As expected, his friends let out an incoherent chorus of excitement. Sam seemed to calm down enough first to ask (more like, shout through the phone), “How was it?”

“Does she really kiss with tongue? Remember Jack used to say-” Tom started, and Harrison scoffed, hearing the name of one of their old classmates who swears he had a summer fling with you once.

“I still don’t believe him, but no, not today at least.” Harrison was honestly a bit embarrassed to admit it. You were in a relationship… with a possibly cheating moron, but still. It just didn’t feel right to talk about you in that way.

“Not today? So there could be another time!” Tuwaine shouted encouragingly.

“Is she still with that prick?” Tom asked.

“Yes, but,” Harrison paused, and they all looked at him expectantly, waiting for elaboration, “I think he might be cheating on her.”

“What makes you say that?” Harry questioned. “Mate, just because you fancy her doesn’t mean her boyfriend’s a cheater.”

“No, I mean I heard him on the phone, and he said he was in Liverpool for business, not for his girlfriend.” He reasoned, “I’m just very suspicious of him.”

“You should tell her if you think he is.” Sam stated, “If he isn’t, then, oh no, you’re on bad terms with her boyfriend, who probably already hates you after today. If he is, well, she’d hate you if she finds out you kept it from her.”

Harrison let out a small sigh as the others nodded. “I don’t know. It’s not my place. Besides, she said something a few weeks about him wanting an open relationship. Maybe it’s that?”

“Okay, look, forget I asked about him.” Tom said, shaking his head, while the others looked at Harrison skeptically through the phone, “How was it to finally have your drama school dreams fulfilled?”

“Fucking heaven.” Harrison admitted with a laugh.

For the next week, Harrison resisted the urge to tell you about Davey. He wanted to, he really did, but whenever he’d finally be alone with you and mentally prepare himself for the conversation, you would always just seem so happy and content. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb your happiness, especially when it was Harrison making you happy. After Davey left, it’s like something changed within you, and Harrison had no clue what it was, but he enjoyed it.

‘You have to tell her.’ Harrison read over his most recent text from Tom again. He let out a small sigh, trying to get the courage to tell you as you sat across from him at the booth.

It was Saturday, and you two, along with Darci, Jojo, and McKell, had made your way to a club, wanting to celebrate another week down. With only two episodes left to film, you all knew your time together was starting to run low. You were all a few drinks in by now, happily buzzed. Jojo and McKell were off somewhere, probably attempting to be each other’s wingmen. Darci was telling you a story so wild that Harrison wondered if it was even true. He finished the rest of his drink and shuffled out of the booth.

“I’m going to grab another drink.” Harrison said to you two, and, without waiting for a response, he left. He made no move to flag down the bartender, leaning against an empty spot in the bar. Pulling on the collar of his blue shirt, he started to feel hot, unsure if he could handle this.

“What happened to getting another drink?” You asked him, stepping up beside him.

“Where’s Darci?” He replied, not wanting to answer your question.

“Found a friend in the crowd.” You laughed and turned to flag down the bartender. You ordered a round of shots, to Harrison’s surprise.

“Are you good?” He asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” You nodded, but with how your eyes were glazed over the alcohol and another unreadable emotion, Harrison didn’t quite believe you. Playfully, you nudged him, “I should ask you the same thing. You’re the one who’s been moping all night for god knows why.”

“I haven’t been moping.” He argued as a tray of four shots was placed in front of you two. You handed one to him and took one for yourself.

“Cheers to another week done.” You clinked your shot glass against his before both of you downed them.

As you went to grab your second shot, Harrison reached a hand and stopped you. Concerned, he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Davey and I broke up— for good this time.” You admitted, and his hold on your wrist softened while he looked at you pitifully. “He told me when he was here that he went through with his ‘open relationship’ plan, even though I never agreed to it, so he’s been basically cheating on me since I left for this job. Then tonight, he drunkenly texts me, and I know it’s just a booty call. He’s done it for years, but now I actually see it for what it is. So now, my shitty boyfriend is gone, I’m finally single, and my only plans for tonight is to get properly drunk. Maybe even hookup with a stranger— god knows it’s been a while since I had decent sex.” Harrison was speechless, and you continued, a smile finding its way to your face at the end of your venting. “Dance with me after this shot?”

“Do I have a choice?” He asked playfully, feeling your mood lighten once more. You winked at him, handing him a full shot glass. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on you and to keep you from drinking anymore.

After you both drank back the burning liquid, you grabbed his hand and pulled him out to the dancefloor. Harrison had felt the alcohol that was flooding his system earlier, but the colored lights, pounding music, and countless bodies around him seemed to make the alcohol hit him harder. There was a weight off his shoulders, knowing you were actually single as you danced with him, and yet he still felt strange about his current state with you— were you truly into him or was he just the first guy you could drunkenly hook up with?

You turned to face him, a small frown on your face, “Haz, you’re being a bit of a killjoy.”

It was then that he realized, while you were fully grinding on his body, he was relatively motionless. Your hands found his, and you planted one on your hip and another on the small of your back, low enough though that it teetered being on your ass. You leaned in closer to him, letting him get a whiff of your perfume. While one of your hands trailed along the hem of his shirt, daring to even dip below his shirt, the other traced through his hair.

As you planted a kiss on Harrison’s neck, not caring at all for the dancing bodies around you, you heard him let out a strangled groan of your name. Your nails light scratched over the deep V in his hips, hooking onto where his jeans met the line.

“Should we get out of here?” You asked Harrison, your lips right next to his ear as your voice dripped with seduction. He felt his heart flip with intoxicating excitement before he was immediately reminded of the gravity of the situation. You went to kiss him, but he moved back quickly, stepping out of your reach. Pouting, you asked, “Do you not want me? After all this time?”

“No, I do.” Harrison insisted. “I want you, but not like this, not when you’re drunk. You’re not in the right headspace for this. I don’t want to be your drunken rebound.”

“How can you be a rebound when it’s always been you?”

Harrison sighed. Oh, how much he’d love to hear that from you— sober. He was saved from having to reply when Darci, McKell, and Jojo found you two. They looked at the two of you skeptically, but Harrison just shook his head.

“I’m going to take Y/N back to the hotel.” He said as he stepped closer to the group so that they could hear him over the music.

“We’ll come, too.” Jojo insisted, even though, with his words slurred and his eyes glazed over, he was thoroughly drunk, too.

“Where did Y/N go?” McKell asked, realizing your sudden absence.

“Oh god,” Harrison muttered, and the four of them dispersed in the crowd to find you, tripping over the other sweaty bodies. Darci found you first, unable to stop you from having a couple more shots.

“No, no, you’re done.” She argued with you. You reached for the last shot that she had taken from you, but, in your intoxicated state, you easily lost your balance. Harrison quickly wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you up.

“I don’t think she can walk.” Jojo commented.

“What gave that away?” McKell asked sarcastically.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” With a small sigh, Harrison, as the most sober of the group (though he still felt fairly tipsy), proceeded to lead you out of the club.

Darci hailed a cab for the five of you, and while it was an illegally tight fit, you all made it work. You leaned on Harrison as he was pressed right up against you. On your other side sat Jojo. You mumbled softly to Harrison, one of your hands falling onto his knee, “Do you remember that year when they put up mistletoe at school?”

“Where are you going with this?” He asked you softly.

“I saw you kiss Vivian at the one outside of the gym, and I couldn’t walk in that area for three months without thinking of you. I was so jealous of her, and you just looked like such a good kisser, which I’m happy to report you are.”

“Babes, maybe stop with the drunk talking.” Darci said, because all of you could tell this was stuff sober you would never say.

Harrison looked at you in surprise— he barely even remembered when Vivian dragged him under the mistletoe, so the fact that you remembered and were jealous? And you said he was a good kisser, too. He felt a glimmer of pride overcome him.

“Ask me tomorrow, it’s the truth.” You shuffled in your seat, laying your head against Jojo’s shoulder, “Jojo, wanna know a secret?”

“Y/N, maybe-” Darci started, but Jojo cut her off.

“No, go on, Y/N.” He laughed, wanting to hear your drunk thoughts.

“Do you think I’d make a good Catwoman?” You asked, words slurring together as you grew tired.

“Catwoman? Like Anne Hathaway?” He questioned, and you hummed a ‘yes’. “Yeah, you’d make a good Catwoman.”

“Good. Tell Haz he needs to my Batman then.” Your voice was quiet, as if it was something just meant for the two of you to hear, but your voice wasn’t nearly as soft as you had thought it was, meaning Harrison and the rest of your friends were truly aware of your little drunken secret

“Okay, I’ll tell him.” Jojo reassured you, a shit-eating grin on his face as he glanced over your head to look at the embarrassed Harrison.

The rest of the car ride was silent, and Harrison helped you out of your seat. With the help of the others, he got you safely inside your hotel room. Everyone retreated to their own rooms, except for Harrison who stayed with you. He laid you down on your bed and went searching for your pajamas, which to his luck were stowed underneath your pillow.

“Can you change or—?” Harrison asked, holding out the clothes to you

“I’ve got it, though I wouldn’t mind you helping.” You said with a wink. As you started to change out of your club clothes, Harrison turned away from you and focused on getting out some much-needed pain reliever and a glass of water for you to have in the morning. He heard you shuffle on the bed behind him before you let out a small huff, “Hazzy, can you come here?”

Hazzy— that was a new nickname. To his surprise, you were already tucked up in bed, your previously worn clothes scattered on the floor around you. He set the water and meds on your nightstand before kneeling to your level, “What’s wrong, love?”

“Do you know why Davey wasn’t my first love?” You asked quietly, your eyes beginning to droop with sleep. You reached a hand out to tentatively run your fingers over his cheek before you cupped it, smiling softly at him.

He had a hunch, but he played along anyway, wanting to hear you say it, in case he never heard it again. “Why?”

“Because you were.” Your voice was so quiet that he barely heard you, but he was so glad that he did. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, and you let your hand fall from his face.

“Get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

“Can you stay tonight? Please?”

“Of course, love.” Harrison stood to his full height, and when he looked at you again, you were already asleep. He softly readjusted the blankets on your bed to make sure you were warm enough, before he made his way over to the couch. Grabbing a throw blanket off the back of the couch, he settled into his bed for the night. Just like every other night lately, he drifted off thinking of you, but this time, there was an excited flutter in his heart.

The next day, Harrison woke up to you letting out a groan, loudly asking, “Why the fuck is it so bright in here?”

He slowly sat up from the couch to check on you. A smile crossed his face as you took the pain meds he’d left out and downed the glass of water. Your eyes seemed to bulge out of your head when you noticed his presence in the room. Laughing, he greeted you, “Good morning, sunshine.”

“Please tell me you miraculously don’t remember anything I said last night because I remember, and I don’t want to.” You said, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“Sorry to disappoint then.” He sent you a sympathetic smile.

With a sigh, you patted the spot beside you on your bed. Wordlessly, Harrison got up from the couch and came to sit beside you on the bed. He expected you to say something, but when you were silent, seemingly caught up in your thoughts, he spoke up, “Did you mean it? When you said I was your first love?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in your reply, and you turned to finally meet his eye, “It was a very intense schoolgirl crush, hence why I hated Vivian after that mistletoe incident, but seeing you again just made me realize that it was more than just a crush. I’ve regretted saying no to you all those years ago ever since you came back into my life.”

“Well, I thought I was over my crush on you, but turns out, there are just some things time can’t change.”

A comfortable silence overfell you two again before you finally spoke up with the words that had been on your mind for weeks, “I think I’m in love with you.”

“I think I’m in love with you, too.” Harrison sealed his words by leaning in to kiss you.

With no script to follow now, he felt fireworks as you kissed him back. One of your hands drifted to the back of his neck, silently urging him to continue kissing you. His hands snaked around your waist before he shifted to lay on his back, rolling you on top of him. You deepened the kiss, your tongue finding its way into his mouth. He moaned at first, fully enjoying himself, before his lips curved into a smile, and he started to laugh against your lips.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, pulling away from his lips. His hands wandered from your hips up to where your own hands were resting on his chest, and he casually intertwined your fingers.

“It’s nothing.” He said in an attempt to play it off, but the smile on his face told you that whatever he was thinking was hilarious to him. “You remember Jack Evans? He told everyone that you were the best french kisser in school, and, well, he’s not wrong.”

You let out a scoff before giggling to yourself, “First of all, how many girls have you french kissed from drama school and should I be jealous? Second of all, Jack was an ass who couldn’t kiss for shit, but I’ll take it as a compliment that he told everyone that.” You leaned down until your lips were just barely touching, “And thirdly, do you want to keep talking about drama school, or do you want me to keep kissing you?”

“You don’t need to be jealous, but I kinda like that you are.” He replied with a cheeky smile. “And you’re right. He was an ass.”

“And for the last one?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

Harrison pretended to think about it for a second before he let go of your hand to cup your cheek, bringing your lips crashing back down to his.

#harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #the irregulars #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield one shot #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield x you #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield x you

294 notes · View notes

helnjk · 4 years

Text

Stitching Together - G.W.

George Weasley x fem!reader

Requested: yes !! by my lovely bean marissa @lumos-barnes

please accept my humble request for a george x reader where the reader owns a shop in diagon alley and one day they walk into WWW and george knocks over a whole display, he is a complete SIMP & cannot compose himself. complete buffoonery when the reader is near. they become friends & do all these nice things for each other and the reader is oblivious like "george, i'm so lucky to be your friend" (even though the reader is secretly simping) and he's like "um what, i'm literally in love with you"

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of meals and drinks (coffee), but other than that it’s just pure fluff & Dumb Idiots In Love

A/N: somehow i always end up writing george knitting? idk how it happened, but it happened. i hope you like it marissa 🥺💕

–

You took a step back to admire your handiwork.

After what seemed like neverending hours, the layout of your shop was finally perfect. From where you stood, you had a view of the streets of Diagon Alley, several passersby coming and goings from your sight. The display of charmed knit work by the window was already moving, demonstrating simple stitches that formed into a scarf.

It had always been your dream to open up your own shop in the most prominent wizarding area of Britain, with your passion for knitting and crafting, but the timing had always been off. Now, about a year or so since the war had ended, your grandmother surprised you with the capital to make your dreams come true.

The gesture was extra special because she was the one who first taught you how to knit. Many summers were spent in her cottage, sitting side by side and working on personal projects together.

Outside, your sign read ‘Stitching Together: Grand Opening’. There were a few flyers posted right on the door and on the window advertising the different classes and crafting groups you were offering, as well as the different products that could be found in your store.

It was as if your heart could burst at the sight of your fully furnished shop and you could wait no longer. With a flick of your wand, the sign on the door flipped to say open and that was that.

–

“Hey Freddie, have you seen that new shop that’s opened down the street?” George yelled from the bottom of the stairs once the last customer of the day made their leave.

“Haven’t gone in, but it’s gotten a lot of customers from what I can tell!” the disembodied voice of his twin replied from somewhere above.

As he began the process of cleaning up and reshelving, products floating in midair or zooming towards their proper shelves, he called out once more, “What type of store is it d’you reckon?”

“Arts and crafts? Something like that.”

George’s eyes drifted towards the shop window, where he could just barely see the outline of the new store. Dusk had begun to set in London, so the sky was filled with brilliant hues of purple and orange. His curiosity getting the better of him, he decided that he would go welcome the new shop owner to Diagon Alley.

With a shout to let his twin know where he was off to, George strode out of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and into the brisk weather. Luckily for him, Stitching Together was still open. He could see you bustling around inside, fixing displays and swishing your wand to tidy everything up.

It had only been around a month since your shop had opened, but the local wizard folk of London seemed to be very keen on buying the different things you sold. Many came around to purchase the instructional books and the different kinds of wool and yarn, and some of your regulars had even taken an interest in the classes you held weekly. It was a great way for you to get to know the community and to establish friendships.

You had always taken note of the joke shop a few shops down from you, but with the hustle and bustle of just opening, you hadn’t had a chance to visit or introduce yourself to the owners. It was just your luck that one half of them pushed open the door to your shop, the little bell at the top of it ringing to indicate his presence.

“Oh, hello!” you smiled, turning to face the redheaded man, “Welcome to Stitching Together, what could I help you with?”

Unbeknownst to George, your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest. How could a man be so positively handsome you didn’t know, but at the sight of him standing by the door, all you could think about was how gorgeous he was. And he hadn’t even uttered a single word yet!

The charming smile he sent your way did not help the heat you could feel creeping up your neck. “Just popping by to say hello and welcome to Diagon Alley! My twin and I run Wheezes just down the street,” he said.

Your smile grew as he stuck his hand out for you to shake, “Oh I was just thinking about how I’ve been wanting to pay your shop a visit! I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“George Weasley at your service,” his hand was firm and warm as he shook yours, eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t quite name. “Nice to meet you!”

“So tell me about your shop!”

Somehow, after that evening, George Weasley snuck his way into becoming a part of your daily routine.

Every morning he would show up with two cups of coffee in hand right before your shop was set to open. After realizing that you depended on caffeine to function throughout your day, he made it a point to bring you one everyday. As you sipped on your coffees, the two of you would spend a few minutes chatting about your plans for the day before going to work.

Whenever you would offer to pay for your own cup or even try to insinuate that you could get your own coffee in the morning, just so that he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble, he would stop you in your tracks.

“But George–”

“Nope!” he would say in a voice louder than yours. “I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I really feel for your customers who have to deal with a Y/N that hasn’t had her coffee fix. Could you imagine the grumpiness? Not on my watch!”

You would roll your eyes, but secretly it warmed your heart how sweet this boy could be. He was slowly inching his way into your life and becoming a great friend.

–

“So,” said Fred one day as George had gotten back from delivering your daily coffee, “The bird from the knitting shop, huh?”

His twin only rolled his eyes in response, used to the teasing that came with being brothers (and twins) with Fred Weasley. Instead of engaging, George went instead to do the routine last check over their store before they officially opened their doors. Still, Fred couldn’t resist the temptation to continue provoking him.

“Oi! C’mon, you bring her coffee everyday even if you don’t like the stuff. If I don’t remind you that you have a store to run, you would spend the whole day staring out the window just to catch a glimpse of the girl! Tell me you’re not whipped for her,” he teased, following George through the shop.

From their position at the till and on the second floor, both Verity and Lee tried to hide their smirks. This was too good a story to not eavesdrop on.

“Come off it, Fred.” George rolled his eyes. “I’m just being a good friend, that’s all!”

“Yeah but you wouldn’t mind being more than friends.”

The cheeky wink Fred sent George was not appreciated, as the prior soon found out, having to duck away from a stinging hex. Still, Fred’s laugh rang through the semi-empty store as he ran away from his brother.

Later in the day, as the lunch crowd tapered off, the four of them were left to mull around a bit. Lee and Verity were off taking stock in the back room, Fred was doing some accounting (because his twin couldn’t be trusted with any sort of math), and George was reshelving some Skiving Snackboxes.

The bell above the door to the shop rang, but he couldn’t quite tell who came in from his position towards the back of the shop.

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” he yelled, rushing to get all the boxes in order before he could help the new customer, “I’ll be with you in just a second!”

Just as he admired his handiwork, eyes scanning the display to make sure nothing was out of place, a familiar voice called from behind him, “It’s alright, take your time. I’m not looking for anything in particular.”

George almost jumped out of his skin as he heard your voice. He was so surprised that as he turned to meet you, his elbow caught on the edge of one of the Snackboxes and the whole thing toppled over.

You watched as the tower of boxes crumbled around him, and your hand automatically covered your mouth as you tried to contain your laughter. It didn’t work, though, and soon the whole store could hear your guffaws.

Thankfully, George was a wizard, and what would’ve taken a muggle quite some time to fix, only took a quick flick of his wand.

“Oops,” you smiled at him bashfully as he finished, “Didn’t mean to startle you, Weasley.”

“Erm, it-it’s alright,” he blushed, “I just didn’t expect you to come ‘round today.”

In truth, the reason why George was so flustered at your appearance at his shop was because he had just spent most of the afternoon thinking about you. He often did that, getting lost in his thoughts about the many little things that made you, well, you. The deep breath you took before that first sip of coffee in the morning, revelling in the aroma. How your face lit up when you spoke about the different people you met in your classes. Your hands and how skillfully they worked whatever project you were creating at the moment.

He wouldn’t admit it to Fred, but what his twin had said earlier in the day was accurate. He was absolutely smitten over you.

“Well you’ve been a regular over at mine for the last couple of weeks, I’m just returning the favor and visiting my favorite redhead at his place of work!”

“I-I,” he stuttered, his brain refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was your favorite anything.

Fred, who had heard the commotion and had gone down to check if everything was okay, nearly face palmed as he watched George fumble through his words. The man was whipped for you, no doubt about it, and as a good twin, he decided to save his brother from further humiliation.

“I think what my lovely twin here is trying to say, is that you just haven’t met enough redheads to make your decision about your favorite one,” he said, smoothly inserting himself into the conversation. “Fred Weasley, at your service!”

Your smile immediately brightened at the sight of George’s twin holding out his hand for you to shake, “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N, George’s told me loads about you!”

“Has he?” Fred raised his eyebrow, turning to look at George who was still a little dumbstruck at the sight of you in his shop. “Well, that just means it’s my turn to spend some time with such a lovely lady. C’mon, I’ll give you a tour of the shop!”

“Oh I’d love that.”

With a small glance and wave at George, you took the arm that Fred was holding out for you, and so began his (largely amusing) tour of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

“What in Merlin’s name was that!” yelled Fred the moment you left the shop.

George groaned into his hands, embarrassment creeping back into him. He had acted a fool, unable to even mutter a single sentence to you the whole time you were around.

“Mate, I have never seen you so flustered around a girl,” his twin muttered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Just tell her you’ve got feelings for her! Ask her on a date, do something! From what I could tell, you’re not the only one who’s caught feelings.”

“It’s not like that between us,” he said, “I doubt she even notices how much I fancy her.”

–

Somehow, George wound up taking Fred’s advice. Though, in typical-George fashion, he never explicitly mentioned to you anything about the way he felt.

Instead, he would stay around your shop longer in the mornings, taking slower than usual sips of his coffee (which he still couldn’t say he preferred over a good cup of tea). Other days, he would come around closing time and help put everything back in order and if he was lucky, the two of you would go out to dinner. Of course, he would also never let you pay a sickle for your meal, no matter how much you insisted.

Weekends were usually spent together as well.

Saturdays were for brunch and muggle films on the telly. It was one of the rare occasions he would drink a beverage in front of you that wasn’t that (god forsaken) coffee.

Sundays were more for crafting together. He would floo into your flat after having lunch with his family and the two of you would continue working on his little project.

“My mum loves to knit,” he mentioned one day, while he observed your quick hands skillfully moving the thread through your needles. “She knits us all sweaters for Christmas. It’s become a tradition of sorts.”

“That’s lovely,” you smiled up at him.

“Yeah, anyone who’s practically family gets one too. Like Harry and Hermione,” he mused.

“I could teach you how to knit her something, if you wanted,” you offered. “It’d be something pretty simple though, especially if you’ve never knitted anything before.”

The smile he sent you was so dazzling, you had to take a moment. You were practically melting under his tender gaze and you swallowed thickly, trying to gain your composure.

“That’d be bloody brilliant, Y/N!”

You only hoped he didn’t notice how your face got hot and how your hands couldn’t move the needles to do what you wanted, too flustered to be precise with your movements.

Since then, the two of you spent most of Sunday afternoons making sure George had the correct strings of yarn on the correct needle. You would keep a close eye on him and his progress, but most of the time he was alright on his own. Sometimes, he would purposely sit closer to you on your couch and you could practically feel the warmth radiating from him.

In between knits, your eyes would drift towards his focused face and you would smile. George had a habit of poking the tip of his tongue out when he was knitting. Something about the gesture helped him concentrate, and you found it absolutely adorable.

The more time you spent together, though, the more confused George got. It was getting to a point where in his head, it was impossible to miss what he was trying to say with his actions. You had to have caught on by now. And, since you hadn’t acknowledged what was going on between the two of you, he had assumed that this was your polite way of rejecting him.

On a chilly morning, he clutched the warm cups of coffee in his hands as he pushed the door to Stitching Together open with his back.

“Morning, Y/N!” he greeted.

You grinned in his direction as he made his way towards you. The moment he placed the warm drink in your hands and you took your first sip, a small moan of gratefulness escaped your lips.

“Merlin, I don’t deserve you,” you mumbled to your cup.

“Sorry?” George asked, brows furrowed slightly.

“Oh nothing!” you quickly said, “I’m just really glad you’re my friend, Georgie.”

Friend.

The word seemed to make his heart sink down to his stomach and ignite something in him at the same time. It was time that he told you how he felt, no matter what would happen afterwards. He couldn’t keep going on pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you.

“Erm, about that Y/N,” he began, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his work uniform, “I’ve got to tell you something.”

It was now or never.

You smiled up at him encouragingly, almost oblivious to the bundle of nerves that were most definitely visible in his expression.

“I-I don’t want to be just friends, Y/N,” he said, lips pursed in anticipation.

“What do you want then?” you still didn’t understand what he was trying to say.

In a burst of confidence, George took your hands in his and gripped them tightly, “I want to be with you. I fancy you loads, I think I might even be in love with you, Y/N. Honestly, I might’ve been in love with you from the moment I first walked into your shop.”

Your lack of an immediate response left him to back track, “But I understand completely if you don’t feel the same way, I just wanted to get it out there.”

For a moment, the two of you were silent. George eyed you nervously, wondering what was going on through your head, bracing himself for the rejection that he thought was on the tip of your tongue.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, “Y/N? Do you want me to go?”

Instead of answering, you flung your arms around his neck. He was so startled at your sudden gesture that he almost didn’t notice your lips on his. Almost.

As suddenly as you had kissed him, all of his apprehensions melted away. Almost automatically, his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him. Your lips melted together seamlessly. It was as if this was where the two of you were meant to be, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.

Sooner than you had liked, George pulled away from you slightly. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but dip his head down to peck your lips again. Once, twice, three times. This left you a giggly mess, your nose scrunching up in a way that was practically begging him to kiss it as well.

“Does that mean you fancy me too?” he murmured against your lips.

“Absolutely, head over heels,” you smiled in return.

The pair of you spent a brief moment with your foreheads pressed together, giddy smiles on your faces. That was until a knock on the door of your shop sounded. Immediately, you sprung apart, a blush coating tip of George’s ears and cheeks.

A few people stood outside, eyeing you amusedly.

“Oh shit,” you said, hurrying to flip the sign on the door to say ‘open’ and to unlock the door with a flick of your wand. “I completely forgot I had a class today.”

As the small group of people began to file inside, they sent knowing glances your way to which you only groaned softly and looked up at George.

“I’ll see you tonight?” you asked hopefully.

With a kiss to your cheek and a mischievous grin he said, “You can count on it, love.”

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes

Weasley twins taglist: @whizboingies @pineapplesandpinas @papapapadumb @Mrs-g-weasley @a-castle-of--glass @hey-there-angels @leovaldez37 @pinkypurplemagic @werewolfslut @surprizeshawtyy

crossed out means i couldn’t tag you for some reason, sorry!

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagines #george weasley imagine #george weasley fics #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #george wealsey x y/n #tw meal mention #tw drink mention

538 notes · View notes

phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on “Auntie Soka and Little Leia” now that I’ve actually got it posted:

Call it a director’s cut! The process of actually writing the thing, and also jokes made along the way. Link to the actual fic.

Unfortunately, I don’t have the energy for image descriptions, even the text screenshots. Might come back that later. Most of this was DMs with @atagotiak.

This was an entire thing before I even started writing:

Before I decided on ages and stuff Ahsoka, to Jango, who has had zero contact with Kaminoans: Okay I know I'm a Jedi kid so you hate me but this toddler is your clone from the future. Jango, tired: What the FUCK are you talking about. Rex, barely able to talk: Don't you dare leave me with him, Commander! Ahsoka: I'm not going to leave you I just--I'm so tired I'm so fucking tired I haven't slept in five days and someone tried to kidnap Leia two days ago I am so fucking tired I need help

Ben: [twenty years of depression followed by a 'now I'm safe' breakdown over the course of weeks] Sokari: [whatever the FUCK this mess is]

When Ahsoka mentions there only being three other Jedi at the time of her death, I was thinking Kanan, Yoda, and Obi-Wan (Leia told her about the latter two living past her). She's not counting anyone that received training after the Temple fell, and she didn’t know about Cal.

When Leia says “I was adopted and raised by one of the founders of the rebellion, a movement built on the desire to instate freedom and democracy in a galaxy that had lost even the pretense.”

Depa: I'm no therapist but I diagnose you with "incredibly fucked up." Ahsoka: yeah, that’s fair

"Why did you pick Depa for--" She's pretty and I'm gay. Also because of the Kanan thing But mostly I'm gay "It's not a visual medi--" GAY

Empty of context beyond general post-fic AU: "Hey Sokari, we need to engage in psychological warfare against this individual and--" "I'm going to break into his office and leave a threatening note on his desk and leave no other sign that I was there. He'll see that his security is nothing and the only reason he isn't dead is because I'm too nice to kill him." "...okay, not what we were planning, but that works. Why is that your first choice?" "I really like breaking and entering, it's soothing." Ben just standing there with a bland smile like This Is Normal.

"We need someone to infiltrate a highly guarded facility in hostile territory." "So we're sending the Torrent kids?" [sigh] "We're sending the Torrent kids."

Rex and Sokari insist on both going by "Torrent" even though Rex could be a Fett. Jango really wants him to be a Fett. Rex has too many grudges to agree to being a Fett for... a while.

I really hope it's blatantly obvious that Ahsoka's not a reliable narrator for some things Ahsoka: Fett could care less if I died Jango: jfc even if you are older than me I can see you're fucked up. Drink your hot chocolate. Hells. She's got good reason to expect him to hate her as a Jedi! BUT. THAT IS NOT REFLECTIVE OF REALITY

We don’t get a lot of actual characterization for Jango, but the way I played him out here is he has never really parsed that Jedi are people before all this. It's a lot harder to treat them as a monolith when the traumatized former child soldier is having regular breakdowns in your shitty little kitchen

Fett: I respect you Ahsoka: No, don't do that

Ahsoka’s vigilantism is something that, in my mind, she's associating heavily with Zygerria and then the clones.

I figured that she never bothered to learn Quinlan’s teacher’s name but in the process of looking up some basic facts (whether he had a surname), I found that Wookiepedia was forced to give us a VERY wide range of possible death in Legends.

Please take a moment to imagine Quinlan's FACE when Ahsoka initially dismisses him. Quinlan has put a lot of effort into being rogueishly charming! It's very useful for his line of work! He knows to expect either irritation or a return flirtation when he acts like this with people his own age! Ahsoka is not flustered OR rolling her eyes and insulting him, she's just ignoring him and it's a bit of a blow to the ego

This just makes me really happy:

This was the initial comment I made, as a joke What if Maul is just. There. On one of the planets they make a pitstop at. What if Maul exists as the walking problem he is, but fifteen, and Ahsoka immediately tries to kick his ass and drag him back to Coruscant. I do not have room for this plot but What If

Despite not having room for this plot, I proceeded to write this plot.

Maul is kidnapped and it’s the best thing that ever happened to him HE'S FIFTEEN HE'S DUMB AS SHIT AND HAS A BAD ATTITUDE AND YEAH HE'S A DARKSIDER BUT HE'S FIFTEEN

Ahsoka: I sense... Maul [takes off sprinting] Rex: [immediately takes Jango's blaster and runs after her] Jango: Wait who Tholme: Who Quinlan: Who Jango: [looks at Leia] Leia: I don't know who that is either! Ahsoka, already wrestling a teenager to the ground: Oh no, you're a child, REX STUN HIM AND GRAB THE CUFFS, I'M SURE FETT OR THOLME HAS SOME

Fighting him isn't even legal, they have NO evidence of criminal wrongdoing, so first she needs to yell until he admits to something she can fight him about

Ahsoka: When I see Maul, it's on SIGHT Maul: WHO ARE YOU

Ahsoka: The Force didn't give me hands just to NOT throw them when I run into That Crafty Son Of A Bitch

Ben, when they arrive, after the tearful reunion: You... you brought Maul. Ahsoka: Well, yeah, he's fifteen and kinda dumb. I figured we could drag him here and force him into therapy, see what happens. Ben: I can't quite tell through the gag, but I think he's threatening to feed you your own spleen. Ahsoka: Lol, yeah.

Ben is absolutely on team "get Maul therapy" and will fight the Council on rehabilitating the baby Sith But also it's like. Here's your daughter! And your niece! And your daughter's QPP! Also your best friend, but baby, and his teacher, and the biological origin of a number of people you cared for deeply! AND ALSO THE GUY WHO SPENT LITERAL DECADES CRAVING YOUR DEATH, FOR SOME REASON

I just really want Ahsoka lovingly bullying Maul She gives him noogies and the horns don't protect him because girl has reinforced gloves

Maul's only allowed a low-power training saber and his fights with Sokari involve Much Taunting by her and Eventual Screaming by him, and everyone pops by to see: 1. Sokari doing the most absurd flips, for fun. 2. The bullshit that is ataru-shien reverse-grip jar'kai in the hands of someone who makes it work 3. What a Sith lightsaber form looks like 4. Just the general nonsense that is the way these two fight

Tia said “Wrt ridiculous flips. I'm remembering that time she beheaded four Kryst'ad at once.” and I just Rex brings up the quadruple beheading at one point to get someone to stop asking questions and the awkward, horrified silence almost makes him regret it. And then Sokari just snorts and makes a joke about how Rex once speared a slaver point-blank and everyone's just like hello??? "are you two okay" "no"

Maul absolutely starts crushing on Sokari after a 'sword under chin' moment and she's just very "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you're fifteen, bye" GO MAKE PUPPY EYES AT OBI-WAN OR SOMETHING

The crushes are the worst part of everything, really, she's an attractive young woman that can kick a lot of ass, and a lot of people are into that! Unfortunately, most of those people are a decade younger than she is, mentally, because all the people her actual age look at her and see a child on account of the 17yo body.

It’s almost a good thing she’s in no place mentally for a relationship.

I just want Ahsoka to wear beskar.... I think that would be Nice........

This AU is also what caused this post.

I'm deeply enamored by the idea that Ahsoka can win fights against "older" padawans pretty much unilaterally, even when they team up 2v1 And then she offers to fight 5v1 "But only if I have permission to fight dirty." Ben approves it, a horror show full of "I fought many wars and will scream in your face or kick you in the balls if that's what it takes" follows She wins. There are no permanent injuries, but her reputation certainly gets weirder. Nobody under the rank of Knight agrees to let her fight dirty again. She just lets that stand because, well, she's not actually a padawan, she's thirty-three.

I’m not going to write this but my brain was EVIL and suggested it:

IT WOULD BE REALLY SAD IDK maybe 9yo Anakin has nightmares about what's happening to baby Ahsoka because bullshit about time-traveling force bonds IDK ANYWAY he cries to Sokari about the nightmares and she's like "oh shit" and it's time to go rescue herself from motherfucker unlimited

It's either that or she's like, expecting to welcome mini-me aaaany day now, for like, several months, before she realizes Something Went Wrong. Anakin’s dreams could even start right as she’s starting to realize something’s off.

Obi-Wan has never had a padawan that doesn't at some point bite Even Luke will, when pushed

OH also once the twins get Baby's First Lightsaber (training sabers, not real kyber), Sokari begs to borrow them for a dumb joke and tells Rex to get on her shoulders for a "Grievous Greeting" and they do The Thing

Jango and Ahsoka wrt Quinlan is just “Do I need to beat him up for you” “You realize I’ve beaten up sith lords before?”

JANGO'S TRYING He's just. "Can we be friends? Can I--can I be the guy that just noticeably gets in the way of a creep on the subway so you can be more comfortable without someone making a scene? I'm fucking trying here, give me a hint."

We didn’t actually figure out Jango’s age until this point. The only reason Fett's age matters is for Quinlan making a Wild Oats quip after Jango says he didn't know about Rex until a few weeks ago, and Fett going "How old do you think I am? And how old do you think the kid is?" and Quinlan getting Very Awkward as he does the math. Rex overhears and lets Quinlan sweat for a bit before saying "I'm a genetically-modified clone someone grew in a tube, he didn't know or have reason to know until he saw me with Sokari." Which is like. Eight additional layers of WTF, obviously, but at least Jango gets to avoid awkward wild oats jokes

Like, you’d expect the rebuttal to be ‘he’s my brother just with a biiig age gap’ or ‘he’s my nephew’

I find it very unfortunate for Quinlan that I've decided his defining characteristic in this context is going to be repeatedly putting his foot in his mouth

He’s trying so hard but "That sounds like a cool thing, maybe I'll ask ab--and it's another fucking trauma."

I'm doing Ahsoka&Jango t w i c e (there’s another fic where I’m doing it)

It’s just a fun dynamic! So much resentful respect.

Like she's twenty seconds away from calling him a bitch at any given time and he's just there like "I don't like you but I do see you move like you're about to tell an entire building to get on their knees with their hands in the air and I can respect that" Also she's probably much less judgmental about using blasters than Obi-Wan is The Maul subplot actually started with me daydreaming about Ahsoka grabbing a blaster for Reasons

I like the idea of Jango just deciding the most Useful thing he can do is help teach the Smol how to fight. He's AWKWARD around Rex and Soka because he doesn't know if there's anything he CAN teach them.

I didn’t actually plan for Tholme to figure out the age thing, he just SAID it and I had to sit there like Wait.

Ahsoka, Rex & Leia: ahhh, children Tholme: you say that like you aren’t children

I liked getting to write Rex's little "I have worked with all of them, and they're all Terrible" He loves them But They once got stranded on a planet that didn’t exist and Ahsoka died and Anakin killed a god.

There was research and discussion as to whether Ahsoka could win against Tholme but seeing as she held her own against Vader, and fought Grievous at that physical age without dying, etc.... yeah, the only thing holding her back was her body not being what she was used to, and she’s had a few weeks go adjust.

“I miss being able to just jump off skyscrapers” is such a jedi thing

Jango: I'll take the gun back if he tries to leave, they can't get far before--WHAT THE FUCK He knows Jedi are scary but he’s still not really used to just how over the top ridiculous they are He knows how to deal with Jedi in battle, not Whatever The Fuck These People Are Doing

Rex isn't even a Jedi, he's just so used to working with them. “Oh yes time for free-falling without a parachute again, same shit as always.”

Tia: I’m imagining Jango freaking out and Quinlan and Tholme being like. Concerned but mostly exasperated Clearly if they’re jumping off buildings it must be serious? But jfc they could’ve maybe communicated a bit more?

Leia: I want to finish my juice Tholme: Quin, stay with her while we go figure out what those two are doing. Quinlan: Wait what

Jango: Oh now he’s jumping off a building too??? Tholme: Sokari, you are not registered! You can't legally jump out windows yet! Jango: What the hell is going on? Is this normal?

We don’t necessarily know how often Ahsoka and Maul ran into each other after Mandalore. There was the later thing on Malachor, but other than that I'm just going with the idea that they ran into each other every year or two and just went for the eyes like feral cats

Ahsoka: I need to kick ass and you're coming with me. Rex: Yeah, okay. [several minutes later] Rex: Whose ass are we kicking?

Ahsoka and Rex

Neloms aren’t a SW fruit to the best of my knowledge, I just wanted to mess around with lemons/melons

Jango: you didn’t think any of this through, did you? Rex: you were there, you know we didn’t "When the Jedi says to jump out a window, I jump out a window."

Tholme’s real composed about stalking the ancient nigh-mythical enemy of his people, very “Life is already so goddamn weird”

This fic has been so heavy on the trauma but then I introduce Maul and suddenly it's the worst kind of comedy Nobody is competent, everyone's a little dumb, the bad guy is just grocery shopping

My propensity for banter has turned this into a six-person buddy cop comedy about Maul buying grapes They spend a significant amount to time ineffectually stalking Maul before Quin suggests the sensible option Quinlan just "You remember this is my literal job and specialty right"

Ahsoka sees Maul and all her brain cells go out the window except "Fight good" Usually she doesn’t need to worry about doing things legally. Maybe she needs to worry about someone seeing her do illegal things but she spent the past 15 yrs in a place where her existing was illegal

I feel like he’s also maybe kinda wanting to reassert that yes he is competent. Bc like. Ahsoka’s been kinda condescending this whole time and also can beat everyone up so. It's not his fault that he's actually the youngest person there, but.

Jango is finding this whole being friendly to Jedi thing a lot more overwhelming than he thought it would be. And overwhelming in different ways.

Maul usually signifies things getting worse and more horrifyingly tragic but he's just a dumb teen that they needed to arrest for his own good.

Quinlan: Look, I'm useful! Ahsoka: I've been through hell, wanna hear? Quinlan: NO. I DON'T. WHY.

Quinlan: I understand the concept of joking about your traumas, I do it sometimes myself! But sith hells that’s a lot of trauma.

Quinlan just wanted her to treat him as a Competent Individual, and here she is whipping out stories about Dying and Gods and the Force insists it's the truth and he just???? And apparently emo darksider over there is a Sith. And just, sure. Why not

A lot of people’s interactions with the time travelling disaster lineage is just

Tholme and Fett arguing and Ahsoka's just waiting for a moment to pop in with "Hey, when's the last time either of you worked with the other's culture before this mess? Yeah, that's what I thought."

Much like Leia and Ahsoka hurting each other earlier, and Tholme figuring out the de-aging, we ALSO have Fett’s confrontation with Ahsoka being something the characters just did, rather than something I planned.

FTR the only time I managed to trigger myself while writing this fic was the “your behavior isn’t actually acceptable and we’ve all been trying really hard to give you room to recover but you have to at least make an effort to not be a bitch”

Writing about people having PTSD and symptoms of such: Yay! Writing about people having PTSD and engaging in toxic behavior to cope: Shit Ahsoka had... basically my exact reaction. It's "remind yourself that you're in the wrong, that they have a point, and then be overly formal in the apology because fuck if you accidentally make them feel sorry for you when they're the injured party"

Quinlan: Can we be friends? I mean, you're an asshole, but you're really cool. Let's be friends. (He MIGHT be nursing a crush) (Neat mysterious girl who can beat him up.)

Also he realises she's probably nicer when not having a slow-motion breakdown He's like "Huh, you'll probably be less of an asshole once you've gotten therapy."

...also, she pretty and got Nice Biceps

I love writing a good mental breakdown

I was so close to including a "he tried to kill me" just early enough for Jango to wildly misinterpret as her thinking Quinlan tried to kill her. He'd have been very confused, considering Quinlan's the one that called them down in a panic and currently has Ahsoka having her massive breakdown in his lap But

Tia: I could see Jango interpreting it as idk, Quin resembling someone or for a moment acting like someone who tried to kill her and she had a flashback or something like that

There's absolutely room for a couple reasonable interpretations there And "trapped in a flashback about someone who tried to kill her" is absolutely what's happening! Just. You know. For a different reason. Jango probably wouldn’t assume Quin would hurt her, for one thing he seems to like her, for another even if he did he’s smart enough to pick a way that wouldn’t be so likely to get him caught

I had to step back and actually say “Also I'm just. Wow. I'm really just shoveling QPP Rex&Ahsoka at full speed”

Me, a few weeks ago, joking: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist Me, now, entirely seriously: Two halves of the same idiot black ops specialist

Me, belatedly: Oh, Ahsoka being joyfully mean to people was a form of mania she was unconsciously using to build a barrier between herself and her impending meltdown

She went from "just died" to "in charge of Rex and Leia" in like. Two minutes.

Confession: I've been delighting in the mental image of this whole Mess leading Jango to try to retake Mandalore, and Ahsoka loans him a saber for a 1v1 to get the darksaber.

“Can’t I just fight him barehanded? That’s how I did it on Galidraan.” "But the drama, Fett!"

Probably Rex has learned how to use a saber as well, because you never know when you have to borrow a weapon

I later changed my mind to Jango asking her to help, rather than her just sneak-teaching him, but it was funny.

Background nonsense to all this is Ahsoka and Rex, despite Rex being as force-sensitive as a lump of coal, having developed a process where she can extend her sensitivity to him mind-to-mind for weird symbiotic battle trance that scares everyone around them. It’s very similar to Battle meditation.

CONTEXT FOR LEIA BEING WORRIED ABOUT THOLME HIDING THINGS: Tholme is hiding the fact that the Council reached out and told him that the people he picked up might be connected to Ben and Luke, who showed up after the Depa thing but a solid week and change before Jango's ship makes it to the Temple. They asked that he not share that information to avoid getting anyone's hopes up in case the two situations aren't related. Ben and Luke haven't shared enough information for anyone to really be sure if the other three are connected Because the info Tholme has isn't quite the info Jango has, etc. And they can't just say Ben is a future Obi-Wan over comms

I just have a lot of feelings about people trying to do something right and just. Nobody's at fault! Not really! It's just complicated!

Tia: I like how when Ahsoka isn’t doing maladaptive trauma response stuff she’s very mature. And of course she’s had to be but it’s a good like, contrast. Where when she slows down to think about things she’s very sensible

Jango just spends most of this story lowkey wanting Ahsoka to Be His Friend but there's too much baggage that he's only metaphysically responsible for

Local aroace(?) has a squish

Ahsoka: He just wants to get on my good side because of Rex. Jango: I'm pretty sure you could kill an entire army without trying but you wouldn't because you have actual morals and stuff... and when I met you it was because you were killing yourself trying to keep (what appeared to be) children safe... you seem cool please be my friend.......

Ahsoka’s #1 weakness: mountains of trauma Ahsoka’s #2 weakness: she just doesn’t get why so many people think she’s cool and want her to be their (girl)friend

Jango, a 27yo massacre survivor who's killed Jedi masters with his bare hands: [gets lectured on various government structures by a tiny girl that's missing several teeth and needs to sit on books to see the table properly]

Ahsoka was raised in a religious meritocracy but developed all her opinions during a galactic war and then became a vigilante spy, Rex comes from a military cult, Leia is from an inherited monarchy that participates in democracy, Quinlan was originally from what appears to be a dynastic dictatorship, and IDK about Tholme other than that he is also from the religious meritocracy. And in legends Quinlan came to the religious meritocracy after his aunt sacrificed his parents to a vampire cult and then forced him to experience the psychometric echoes of that. There's just. A lot going on.

Leia at least has knowledge about structure and admin in theory that isn't based in either the military or populations under 10k

Jango: I want to be your friend. Ahsoka: Sounds fake.

I am unfairly fond of "Rex destroys a conversation by bringing up his own horrifying childhood and calling it a cult"

"Why does Sokari call you 'Rex'ika'?" "Because she's older than me." "...can I--?" "No."

Nickname privileges are extended ONLY to Ahsoka and older clones. There are no more older clones, so it's just Ahsoka.

Me joking about Star Wars AUs: Would you like a crackship? Me writing actual Star Wars fic: My favorite character type is apparently “too traumatized to have a relationship” so this is at least 90% gen.

I had to pull a scene opening at one point because Ahsoka's skill with not getting shot is actually much less useful than Tholme's clearance levels.

Now I really want a team-up of Ahsoka, Rex, and Jango where they do have to get in a dogfight of the "she flies, we shoot" variety and Fett just has to scream because the speeder thing to catch Maul was one thing, but this....

Ahsoka, before TCW: I know all the traffic rules but I'm not that great at flying! Ahsoka, after TCW: I'm great at flying but if you let me behind the wheel we are absolutely getting arrested.

She went from "knows the rules but doesn't have the skills" to "has the skills but primarily in the form of not getting shot" which! Is delightful! "Bet I can get us through that alley--" "DO NOT"

Jango and Ahsoka are both just very "Is this friendship? Is this camaraderie? My heart's been fried on platonic love by so many murders that I'm not sure anymore." "I've lost a lot of friends. I kind of forgot how to make those."

I have no idea if "hasn't been closer than Alderaan except that one trip to Chandrila" is canon-compliant but ehhhhhhhh It feels plausible enough?

Belatedly realized that I could just explain my optimal Rex&Ahsoka dynamic as just... drift compatible. It's vague enough on the specifics while still digging into the meat of what they mean to each other and how they work together. The terminology is already in existence. I can just use it.

Romantic? Platonic? Familial? Doesn't matter! They're drift compatible.

They are important to each other and that is what matters

I really like the Leia&Quinlan thing. He's just like "This small child needs a friend that isn't super depressed," and decided he's going to be her friend. I keep trying to toss in "Quinlan volunteers to 'baby'sit." She's not much older and she has a Baby Brain, it works out

There's a running bet as to whether Leia will leave the Order the second she turns thirteen, or if she'll let Sokari "train" her for a few years first. And... that’s how I came up with Leia Antilles, Senator of Serenno.

They'll be bullshitting Ben as her new master to "finish out the padawanship" since they can't tell everyone she's really in her thirties and he's conveniently there and already knows everything and was half her master anyway. Like Ben was planning on taking on Luke, but Luke is "six" and even he can't swing that as old enough to be a Padawan, and it's not like Sokari will take more than a handful of years to justify knighthood, sooooooooo

#Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Leia Organa #Jango Fett #Obi Wan Kenobi #time travel #de aging #Phoenix Babbles #Uncle Ben and Little Luke #Auntie Soka and Little Leia #I need to excise the bits that are actually funny on their own

199 notes · View notes

madfantasy · 3 years

Note

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

#ask #text #diary #personal #my art #miss

64 notes · View notes

wonderwomanfantasy · 4 years

Text

Call Girl.

for you Zbops... anything

part one part two

Endevour x camgirl!Reader

wanrings: sugar daddy, sex, Mentions of drug use, choking, jealousy, Daddy kink, mentions of cam girls and sex work.

word count: 1,800 (about)

summary: idk this is weird and horny and doesn’t have a plot.

“(y/n) please? Endeavor likes you he’s not going to be mean if you’re there,” Keigo whined tugging at your sleeve. You shook him off. It was true that ever since you started fucking Endeavor, he was a little bit nicer to your boss. Or to put it more accurately, he hurried your boss out of the office so the two of you could have fun. This new development certainly made your life more interesting. It added a new thrill to your live shows to know that the number one hero was watching along with all the normal people.

Your bank account was also taking a boost from this new relationship. You had been worried Enji would try to strong-arm you into giving him more content for free. But no, Endeavor was more than happy to pay for all sorts of premium content on the side as well as compensating you for the in person time you spent together. It was almost enough money to quit your day job with Hawks and become a full time play thing for the older richer man.

“Sorry Hawks but I’m already busy tonight cleaning up after you so you’ll have to go with out me,” you huffed making him pout. “But by all means send my love to Endeavor if you think that will make him nicer somehow,” you added already imagining how that would play out.

“There’s no way you can reschedule?” he asked for the hundredth time. a couple of photographers got a less than flattering picture of Hawks smoking a joint and if you didn’t wrangle that picture out of their cold dead hands it was your ass on the line.

“this is an emergency Keigo, you can stand one meeting with the man now go, before you’re late,” you said shoving him out of the window, a horrible thing to do to any one except the winged hero himself.

Endeavor did nothing to hide his disappointment when he saw you weren’t with Hawks. What was the point of dealing with the annoying blonde If you weren’t with him?

“don’t pout old man She wanted to come promise. Even told me to give you a big kiss for her,”

“Sit down,” he snapped rolling his eyes. You had been such a tease all day long, with not only a constant stream of revealing photos on your onlyfans and premium snap chat. but the personal texts about how much you missed him for the past few days where what really got to him.

“So how long have you been fucking my secretary?” hawks asked stopping him in his tracks

“I’m married, I’m not sleeping with anyone.” Endeavor shot back. Hawks rolled his eyes

“You don’t have to lie to me, I get it. You like her because she’s hot and she likes you because of Daddy issues I just want to know if you’re like exclusive or if I still have a shot with her-”

A hot wave of jealousy hit him. He’d never felt bothered by the fact that other men were looking at you and fantasied about you but some how if it was Hawks it would be too far.

“Do what you want with your slutty PA, I don’t touch her.”

“Bull shit, every time we have a meeting you rush me out so you can get your nasty hands on her and you leave marks you know that? you could at least be gentle with her, Dude,” Hawks chided. He had known he’d left bruises. He liked seeing the jealous comments asking whose hand was branded on your thighs. He just hadn’t known Hawks had noticed too. He was always under estimating the number two.

“So what if I am?” he asked. “what difference does it make to you?”

“Like I said I want to know if I have a shot with her,”

“you don’t,”

“You think so? I think I’ve got a chance if she likes Heroes,” Endeavor was going to kill him.

You groaned leaving the restaurant. You had succeeded, but It had taken a lot out of you. You wanted to go home but as you checked your phone you saw Endeavor texted you.

Hawks said you’d be out tonight. Come over to my office once you’re done. I don’t care how late it is.

you smiled, you could use some stress relief right about now

on my way

Just a few moments later you were knocking on his office door. You wondered if he would be needy, something must be up, he’s never demaned you came over like this, sex was more of a heat of the moment thing.

“Come in,” he barked. You hadn’t even closed the door behind you before Enji was marching over to you.

“You kept me waiting,” he growled and lifted you off the ground as easily as if you weighed nothing at all. His strength amazed you sometimes. You weren’t the lightest girl in the world but he had no trouble as he dropped you on his oak desk.

He grabbed your jaw roughly and shoved his tounge in your mouth his other hand already reaching to remove your blouse. The flames of his beard tickled your jaw as he mauled your mouth. They weren’t hot enough to burn, just warm enough to heat up your face while he trailed kisses over your body.

Endevour had never been perticularly gentile with you per say, but now he was being especially rough. While he normally was carful not to rip your clothing so you could leave just as put together as you came in, this time he didn’t sem to care at all. Buttons flew as he tugged off your shirt and you heard ripping sounds as he unclasped your bra

“E-Enji,” you gasped as his teeth grazed the pulse point of your neck. He ignored you and kept biting down your neck.

“you have no idea how badly I need you” he growled gnawing at your skin, He pried one of your hands off of his chest and pushed it between his legs letting you feel how much he needed you.

You looked down and saw his aching cock through his impossibly tight hero costume, you could almost make out the veins through the taught fabric. you flattened your palm against his shaft slowly masaging his cock while he continued his assault on your torso.

His large hands easily cupped your breasts kneading the globes of flesh roughly. He pushed you down laying your back against the desk. Enji grabbed you by the knees and pushed your legs apart forcing your skirt up around your waist. he jerked you down pressing your clothed cunt to his cock.

His body covered yours easily as he leaned down kissing you agian, this time his lips landing on your chest, peppering your tits with marks. Enji loved his hickeys loved claiming you. if you were being honest. you liked it too. In a weird way it made you feel special.

His hips rutted against your slowly humping your clothed sex. Both of you groaned at the friction. His hand snaked up tangling in your hair and yanking back. You cried out in pleasure as pain ripped through your scalp. You clawed at his shoulders encouraging his actions.

“Mine,” He growled “look at me you are mine,” he stated firmly tugging on your hair again. his eyes were bright with fury.

“I don’t care how much that bird-brained fuck offers to pay you I’ll tripple it, this pussy is mine and If Hawks tries to touch you I’ll rip his head off.” He rolled his hips agian and your cunt clenched. you felt so empty, you struggled against his grasp to no avail, you desperately wanted him to fuck you already.

“I-I don’t want to fuck Keigo,” you whimpered back in response. He pulled back ripping off your underwear before reaching to rip off his own under garments

“After tonight you won’t want anyone else,”

His cock was proportional, just as large and intimidating as the rest of him.

“Do you need to be stretched or are you still fucked loose from last night?” He purred teasing the head against your clit. Last night you’d done a stream again with the novelty Endeavor themed dildo and you knew no amout of stretching was going to stop this from hurting, but you welcomed the pain.

“Just fuck me already, please Daddy I need it so much,” you moaned spreading your legs as far as you could while he was gripping your legs. He smirked and pushed in.

He didn’t bother going slow, you didn’t need slow pampering, you needed friction if you were going to feel better. The moment he was fully sheathed inside of you he pulled back thrusting in again.

“His pathetic prick couldn’t even compare, I wonder if you’d even feel him your cunt’s so stretched to the shape of my cock,” he growled in your ear. your eyes rolled back in your head as he pounded into, gutteral moans being pulled from your throat. The streach of his cock burned, but slowly the ache turned to pleasure as your doughy walls relaxed, and more slick coated his cock.

“f-faster Daddy please,” you moaned. He complied shaking the desk with each rock of his hips.

He took your cheeks in his hands tugging your face up to his level so he could bite your jaw. He let out a low groan against you skin. He was close, you could feel it.

“Fuck I’m going to cum,” you moaned knowing he wouldn’t be far behind. His Hand dropped to your neck cutting off your airflow.

“Go ahead and cum on my cock, I want to feel you cream on my cock,” he growled

“you- you too, I want you to cum to,” you moaned your body spasming under his muscular frame.

“I’ll cum when I’m damn ready slut, Just do what you’re told,” He spat. His cock hit your g-spot making you see stars.

“there’s my good girl,” he praised, he gripped your hips and started moving your body for you, using you like a doll as he chased his own release.

“you’re sweet cunt is perfect for me baby, and only me,” he growled. His hips snapped forward burrying himself inside of you, his cock throbbing with release.

“There, now you’re insides are claimed too, so you better not forget who you belong too,” he growled relaxing his grip on your neck, you slumped back on the desk, your chest heaving as you caught your breath. he pulled out and a river of semen spurted out of you. You had teased him about how much he came in the first private show, but it was always wild to see it in person.

“You sure know how to make a mess,” you teased grabbing a tissue to clean yourself up.

“It’s not a mess it’s a reminder,” he purred kissing your forehead.

“Yeah now I’ll never forget who’s my daddy,”

#enji todoroki #enji todoroki x reader #enji todoroki x reader smut #endeavor x reader #endeavor x reader smut #mha endeavor #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #my hero academia imagine #my hero academia head cannon

722 notes · View notes

moral-turpitudes · 4 years

Text

Swan Lake:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

A/N: This idea came to me at like 3 am and idk why, it’s totally not canon or whatever but it was fun to write. I also don’t know anything about ballet so don’t come for my neck lol.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Slight Mentions of/Implied Physical and Emotional Abuse, Descriptions of Death/Fighting etc.

Word Count: 3,977

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

+ Jack Timmons (OC, albeit a shitty one)

Requested: No

Summary: After constant threats of losing her position in a prominent ballet company, Y/N feels trapped in her circumstances. That is until an infamous blue-eyed gangster stumbles upon her one night, helping her leave her past behind, because sometimes that’s the best thing you can do.

“One, two, three. One, two, three.” Y/N counted to herself as she rehearsed in the quiet concert hall. Her nerves still a mess as the ear-splitting voice of her department head played on a loop in her mind. His harsh words stinging as she continued on.

With every leap and pirouette, her toes and tired muscles screamed to be free from their routine binds that held them together. Her corset digging into her skin, the paper thin pantyhose ripping on her knees from a nasty fall, and her feet cracking and bleeding with each new pair of ballet slippers she broke-in. On nights like this, she often questioned what she was doing this for. Was it for glory? For money? For distraction? It seemed only time could tell.

Unbeknownst to her, a man looked on from the dark entrance. A cigarette in hand as he observed her movements. His eyes alert as he’d heard a man yelling moments before.

Smoke escaped his lips as he watched in silence. The only music coming from inside the woman’s head, her body moving in strict motions to the beat she’d memorized from the orchestra that would usually play during shows. Her instructors voices in her head, threatening to fire her if she didn’t do better.

She never thought that something that brought her so much joy could bring her so much pain, but that seemed to be how things went in life, at least for her.

As she ended her dance, she sat on the cold stage, untying the stiff slippers and wincing as the fabric clung to her bloodied feet. No matter the cloth she put around them, she always found cuts and blisters ambushing her skin. This was the price she paid for perfection. Dancing was her “thing.” Her one gift to the world. The one thing that she’d always have, that no one could ever take away from her.

But with tear filled eyes she looked up at the spotlight beaming down on her, the makeup that was once well kept, slowly being washed away by the tears rushing down her cheeks.

As she ripped her gaze from the blinding light, she thought she felt eyes on her. Feverishly blinking the colorful spots on her vision away as she looked out into the empty seats, where a set of blue eyes stared back, their owner stoic and unmoving.

“Hello?” She asked, her heart racing slightly as she painstakingly walked off the stage and down the middle isle towards the man. Trying her best to wipe her tears away.

“Sorry to startle you miss. Just observing.” He said gruffly, cigarette smoke escaping his lips.

“Why are you here...? What’s your name...? Who do you work for...?” She asked in a barrage of questions, her nerves frazzled as she stood before him.

His blue eyes pierced hers as he took in the state of her. Elegantly hiding the pain behind a powder pink façade.

“I stopped in while on business and I heard yelling.” He said, adjusting his peaked cap, the razor blades glinting off the dull light from outside the theater.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized what gang he was a part of. Remembering talk around the city that they were moving in on London. Making threats and crashing party halls more often than not.

“Everything’s fine, sir.” She said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

“You don’t look fine.” He said.

“You haven’t answered my questions, sir.” She said, deflecting his comments and looking at him skeptically. With a sigh, and a long drag from his cigarette, he spoke.

“My name is Thomas, Thomas Shelby. But you can call me Tommy if you like...” He said walking towards her. Her heart racing slightly as she stood in place.

“...and I’m a man who does bad things. But don’t worry love, I have no bad business with you.” He said, gradually walking towards door.

“Wait....” She said, looking around the empty theater nervously as he stopped in his tracks.

“Why exactly were you watching me?” She asked, walking to him.

He sighed as the cigarette burnt down to the last little bit, ending with him throwing it on the tiled floor and stomping it out.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright....and then I saw you dancing to no music. It intrigued me.” He said flatly.

“How so?” She said, crossing her arms at the infamous gang leader.

“Because I can hear it too.” He said.

“You memorized the song? How? You haven’t seen the show.” She said, walking down the stairs with the mysterious man.

“My mother used to play it at home and she’d dance, quite like you. I recognized the routine.” He said, standing near the exit. The streets bustling with people under the moonlit sky.

“You don’t look like someone who listens to music. Do you dance?” She asked, beguiled by the rather handsome blinder.

“I liked a lot of things before the war. Dancing was one of them. But now?.....No.” he said shaking his head slightly as he continued.

“Sometimes life has a way of taking things from us.” He said softly, lighting another cigarette as he stood before her.

“That it does.” She said, glancing at her tired hands as he observed her once more, how she stood and how her hair fell limply around her face, framing it ever so gently.

“I’m probably overstepping my bounds...Tommy. But uh, if you’re ever in need of dancing lessons...I can help. Free of charge.” She said, the thought escaping her lips on a whim. Her mind racing with wanting to dance anywhere but there in that dreadful theater.

“Free of charge aye? Do you make a lot at these shows?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“No. I’m actually on my way out. Was almost fired for the last show. I wasn’t good enough.” She said looking down.

“That’s a shame. I thought you did great.” He said.

“Tell that to the department head. I’m tired of ruining my body for something that doesn’t pay. I’d rather do it for fun. At least then life might be worth living.” She said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her pent up feelings slowly trickling out as the minutes passed.

“What do you do for fun, Tommy?” She asked, changing the subject.

He stood in thought, never really taking into account anything besides the noise in his head or the ache in his heart. Never giving himself the time for anything reminiscent of fun.

“I uh, work with horses I guess.” He said.

She nodded and sat in a chair near the exit, wincing and fiddling with the tulle of her tutu.

“So what do you say? Dancing or no?” She asked, a small smirk playing at her lips.

“I’ll accept your offer, on two conditions.” He said.

“Alright, what are your conditions oh infamous Mr. Shelby?” She asked, seeing a small smirk on his face. One that seemed to be uncomfortable, like it had been hidden for years.

“That you give me the name of your department head, and let me employ you.” He said bluntly.

“I’m not a killer, I’m just a dancer.” She said, looking down at her wrists. Bruises forming from many routines throughout the week and from her vile department head.

“You won’t deal with that kind of business. But I’d like to pay you. I can see that you work hard for what you want.” He said sitting next to her.

“You want me to dance for you? What like at some whore house?” She scoffed.

“No. You can dance for fun or teach or whatever it is you want to do. But a job with me, in my shop, can bring you the money you’re looking for. You won’t have to beat yourself up anymore.” He said, noticing the bruising hand prints around her wrists.

“I’ll think about it.” She said quietly, getting up and stretching out her arms, her muscles aching at the movement. Thomas headed towards the door abruptly, not wanting to keep her any longer considering he’d given orders to his brothers a while ago.

“Hey...” She said, stopping him.

“Mhmm?” He mumbled, lighting another cigarette.

“His name is Mr. Timmons. Jack Timmons. I hope you find him.” She said giving him a small, hurting smile before heading back towards the theater.

“Oh and miss?” He called back, making her turn around.

“Yes?”

“I never got your name.” He said.

“It’s Y/N...Y/N Y/L/N.” she said. Thomas nodded and reluctantly turned around, walking slowly into the night the next man on his hit list already buzzing through his mind.

As he stepped onto the cold London streets, he saw his brothers drinking and waiting by the car. Their faces covered in smoke-residue from their mission.

“Oi! What the fuck took you so long aye? We torched the bar down the road so we need to go.” Arthur said, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey he’d stolen.

“I was doing a bit of legitimate business. Did you lot get the money?” He asked, revving the engine and peeling out onto the cold, damp roads towards Small Heath.

“Yeah. Got the whole thing. They won’t mess with us again. What kind of business were you doing in a fucking theater?” Arthur asked.

“Probably fucking one of the dancers.” John said, the toothpick dangling precariously on the edge of his mouth.

“I saw people leaving the show and decided to go there to clean off from our last raid. And I heard a man yelling at some woman there. He’s uh, been a bit of a problem but I can’t tell by how much just yet. He’s been working the woman to death for little pay...so I offered her a spot here.” He said.

“Why are you so caught up on the woman? What, is she gonna dance around the shop all day?” John asked, earning a chuckle from a drunken Arthur.

“I’m thinking she’d make a good assistant. I watched her after he left. She was the only one there, working on the same routine for an hour straight. Was bleeding by the time she was done.” He said.

“Well besides the woman, what are you wanting to do with the man aye? We’ve caused enough trouble here so far.” John said.

“I have a feeling this man is abusing the whole company or at least the woman I spoke to. She’s miserable, you can see it in her eyes. I only saw eyes like that in the trenches.” He said quietly, looking out at the sky through the thin windshield.

Over the next few days, it seemed her plight only grew as the dancers rehearsed, their instructors criticizing more than helping them as they moved to the beat. Y/N’s eyes fearful as their department head entered the room. The music stopping as they all sat on the stage as instructed.

Behind the stage, Thomas watched silently as the instructor eyed the women. The mans eyes only seeing money and fame instead of them as people. But his gaze seemed reserved for Y/N especially.

She was bruised from the repeated practice, the falls, and from the mans calloused hands that beat her beyond the theater walls. Threatening to fire her if she didn’t improve. Claiming he was “trying to save the company’s image.” Telling her she’d be working the streets in no time if she failed again.

Even though she tried her best, often putting in more work than her peers, it still wasn’t enough for Mr. Timmons and his dreadful company. The only thing getting her by was knowing that after the big show, things would settle down, knowing he’d go back to just yelling at her and occasionally at the others, instead of talking with his fists. But the pay remained the same, barely keeping a roof over her head throughout the years.

“Y/N, I’ve seen your performances these past few weeks and they’re all the same. The turns are too loose, your footing is off, and you’re out of step with the others. I don’t see why you can’t do better.” He said loudly as she stared him down. White-hot tears brimmed in her eyes as her face heated up in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. None the wiser to the blinder who’d watched it all unfold.

“Meet me backstage after this will ya? We have to discuss some matters over your position here.” He said, walking to the next girl and nodding his head. He moved on from each person giving small snide remarks, but they were nothing compared to what she’d gotten, and it filled her with rage. With a sigh, she wiped her tears and stood up. Decided then and there that she’d walk out. To make a scene like she’d dreamt to during the 5 years she’d worked there.

“Mr. Timmons...the only thing you’ll be doing backstage is shoving these up your ass.” She said, chucking the bloodied ballet slippers at him before exiting the stage and going to her dressing room, locking the door.

Thomas watched silently until Mr. Timmons excused the rest of them, leaving only him and the poor excuse for a man in the dimly lit area back stage.

As the man walked with a master key towards Y/N’s dressing room, Thomas quickly came up behind him. Hitting him in the back of the head with his gun and wrestling him to the floor. The man screaming through a bloodied mouth as he landed punch after punch to his face. Thomas soon removing his cap and slicing the mans eyes, blinding him instantly before shooting him.

Y/N watched from the doorway, dressed from head to toe in her normal clothes she’d came in with. Her eyes red and swollen from crying and her body aching from the mornings work.

She stood there silently, the sight of the man who tormented her making her smile slightly as she realized she was free of him.

“Y/N....” Thomas said, wiping the blood from his face as best he could as he stood up from the mans limp body.

“Thank you.” She said, sniffling a bit as she kept her tears at bay this time. Walking quickly out the door to the outside of the building, the cars whizzing by as the cold wind crept through her clothes.

Thomas quickly draped a nearby blanket over Timmons’ body, dragging it to the dressing room. But before leaving he retrieved the master key from his limp hand, locking the dead man inside as he cleaned up the mess from his handy-work.

As he looked in the bathroom mirror minutes later, he could see the blood on his skin, the metallic smell barely phasing him as he washed it down the drain. After cleaning up, he headed out the door, finding Y/N sitting on the pavement smoking a cigarette.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, sitting by her and lighting his own, his hands bleeding slightly from the blows to Timmons’ face.

“Why not.” She said, fiddling with a pink ribbon in her hands that once kept her hair tightly in place.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said, sighing as he looked out at the mid afternoon sky. The city bustling around them.

“It’s alright. I’ve wanted that to happen for 5 years. Don’t worry though, after knowing him, nothing really scares me.” She said with a small smile, relief finally hitting her as she realized she’d probably never have to face the man again.

“He’s dead though right? Like you made sure he’s never coming back?” She asked, her eyes still nervously scanning the roads out of habit as the doubt crept in.

“He’s never coming back. I’m burying him tonight.” He said.

“Make sure it’s deep.” She said, the bruises on her wrists more prominent in the daylight.

“Always do.” He said looking at her wrists with a clenched jaw. Knowing full well Timmons was behind it.

“I’ve uh, thought about your offer by the way.” She said looking down at the ribbon.

“You have aye?” He asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. Her voice bringing him out of his thoughts a bit.

“Yeah. I’d like to try it out, if you’d still want me there. I don’t know what a ballerina could offer the company but, it beats where I was.” She said, cringing internally at all the painful memories which unfortunately often overshadowed the good ones.

“I’ve seen you work hard so far, so I figured making you my assistant would be a good position. You’ll come in at 8, and leave by 6 on most days.” He said.

“Most days? What happens on the other days?” She asked.

“On those days you keep busy so you don’t think about how or if we’ll return. You’ll help keep the shop in line along with my aunt Polly until one of us walks through the door. For your safety.” He said.

“Do all the assistants and secretaries work that late?” She asked.

“Only on those nights they do.” He said.

“Alright. May I ask one question?” She said.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, blowing smoke from his lips. He stared at her while she thought over her words, her eyes not as miserable as before.

It made him feel better knowing that even though he couldn’t save the men in the trenches, he could at least save her. Someone who shared their same eyes, their same exhaustion, their same fear of not knowing what was next.

“Why me? You could hire anyone else. Any other woman for that matter. But you chose me...” She said, putting her cigarette out on the damp dirt road.

Thomas sighed for a moment, not wanting to tell her he couldn’t help but fall for a beautiful woman even though they’d just met. No matter her profession, he didn’t expect a ballet dancer to steal his heart so quickly and effortlessly.

“I could see you were different.” He said.

“How so?” She asked, his answer not enough as she looked into his eyes. They were like looking into the ocean, threatening to pull her under.

“When I came in after doing some business and saw you there practicing, you intrigued me. You were dancing with no music, but still trying no matter what happened.” He said.

“You saw me fall aye?” She said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but I also saw what you did after....It’s always about what someone does after the fall, that makes a person who they are. I guess I chose you because you didn’t give up.” He said.

“And I thought it was because I was wearing a pretty pink ballet costume.” She said, smirking.

“That might also be a reason.” He said with a smirk. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time more quietly.

“For the record Y/N, I truly don’t see why the others treated you like they did....But I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He said.

“A man like you making promises? That’s a bold move.” She said, her heart racing as she held his hand gently, nervous to touch someone in a way that wasn’t done in self defense.

“I’m a bold man.” He said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Oh really?” She said with a smirk.

“I can show you.” He said, leaning towards her as she did the same. She couldn’t help but feel differently towards him. He didn’t make her feel scared or on-edge like so many people before her. Instead oddly enough, the dashing blinder made her feel safe.

It was in that moment that he too realized he hadn’t felt this way in a while, since before the war. The only comfort he’d ever found previously was at the bottom of a bottle or beneath the sheets in a brothel. The feelings felt out of place, the noise from the war competing with the song in his head, the same one from her shows. The same one from years ago at home.

With a calloused hand, he caressed her cheek, looking into her as eyes as the sun shined into them. Their color illuminated by its rays as he brought her lips to his, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt her relax into the kiss instead of pulling away.

“So...when do I start?” She asked after he broke the kiss, her eyes trailing to his lips.

“Tomorrow. I can pick you up.” He said.

“Won’t you be tired from burying Mr. Timmons? I can drive myself.” She said.

“It’s not my first time burying someone love. I’ll swing by in the morning.” He said, getting up.

“Alright...see you then.” She said, a genuine grin forming on her face for what felt like the first time in years as she watched him head off towards his car.

Over the next few weeks, she became acquainted with everyone in the shop. Polly taking a special liking to her as she loved dancing as well.

“You’ll never catch me dancing ballet. Maybe a waltz but never ballet.” She said one morning.

“I can teach you, it’ll do you some good. Keep you strong.” Y/N said, thinking about how she’d get by with teaching in her cramped apartment.

“Tommy taking classes from you yet?” She asked with a smirk.

“God no. I think he only said that to get me working for him.” She said, thinking back to his first deal with her.

“What are you two talking about aye? We have work to do.” Tommy said, walking into his office where they sat in his chairs nonchalantly.

“Pol was just asking me if I’d taught you to dance yet. You did say you used to...but there would be no ballet of course.” She said, smirking at him as she blew smoke from her lips.

“Well, I have business at the races soon so I guess you’ll have to teach me. Especially since I’ll need someone to accompany me.” He said.

“I never thought you’d ask. What shall I wear?” She asked.

“Something red.” He said, giving her a peck on the cheek before heading out the door.

Their banter carried on like this months after her employment. The only thing different though was where she stayed. Everyone knew he’d had the hots for the woman as soon as he laid eyes on her in the theater. John joking that going to London was the best decision Tommy had ever made. Seeing as she helped him find himself again even if it was just in simple ways. From the nights spent keeping the sounds of the shovels at bay, to the weekends spent helping him learn a few dances. They both healed each other with each step. He never thought he would enjoy dancing or even something as simple as sleeping ever again, but she helped him and he helped her, and he felt the only way to pay her back was to help her still live out her dreams. Eventually converting one of their many rooms into a dance studio, where she’d help teach children on the side, without mean words and harsh fists beating her down.

By this time, she finally knew what she was dancing for, or more so who. And it pleased Thomas to see the life finally return to her eyes as she did so. Knowing that one of the best decisions she made was to dance for herself. Even if it didn’t garner any grand applause, she knew she had people who cared, and who saw the value in what she did, considering it was her gift to the world after all. Even if it was the gangly Shelby family as her audience, she knew it was better than any theater.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,

@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore, @xxbeckybeexx-blog

If you’d like to be added or removed, just send an ask/message! :)

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x female!reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby

134 notes · View notes

psycho-slytherin · 4 years

Text

Strangers ch. 46

The truth begins to be untold, from multiple perspectives.

Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Actress!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Genre: fluff, angst, slow burn, strangers to friends to ??? I honestly don’t know what this counts as anymore

Warnings: Strong language

|mlist|

<–– Prev Next ––>

You can’t breathe for several seconds. You feel yourself begin to tremble, and Wonho must feel it too, because he places a protective hand on your shoulder. “Y/n?”

For a moment, the club swims before you. No. No. You’re not letting her win, not again. With enormous effort, you summon that numbness once more, letting it settle over you. In a single moment, you adjust your posture and expression, and although your throat feels like it’s about to close up, you don’t allow your voice to change. You’re an actress, after all. “Good to see you’re having fun,” you tell Yoongi cooly, ignoring Seoyeon. The redhead’s eyes narrow at your obvious disinterest. Yoongi’s gaze sweeps between you and Wonho, who’s glistening with sweat from dancing. Wonho’s mesh top is sticking to his defined abs.

“Looks like you are too,” Yoongi replies quietly. His brows knit together and his eyes search yours, almost pleading –

He can’t do this to me. It’s not fair. And you can’t keep your voice steady much longer. You take a long pull of your drink.

“Suga-bear~” Seoyeon whines.

“Hyung!” Out of nowhere, Hoseok breaks through the crowd, looking wildly between you and Yoongi. “Ha… I-I didn’t know you’d be here!” He says through a too-wide smile.

Still looking at you, Yoongi jerks his head toward Seoyeon, who continues clinging to him. You notice Hoseok twitch.

Without breaking eye contact with Yoongi, you reach up and rest your hand on Wonho’s, who’s still holding your shoulder. “Wonho, I’m going to BTS’s private room. Hoseok, is it okay if Wonho comes with?”

“Of course.”

Wonho seems confused, but – bless him – he goes along with you as you turn your back on Seoyeon… and Yoongi.

“So! Tell me about your mixtape, how’s that going?” You hear Hoseok shout over the music as you lead Wonho away. By the time you finally shut the door, closing yourself off from the club, you feel like the night has lasted for far longer than a few songs.

The other members have disappeared, surely out on the dance floor or by the bar. Coats are strewn on the couch and chairs, and you can spot several empty bottles of soju on the counter.

‘Hey… you okay?” Wonho asks, his voice soft.

“Yeah,” you answer too quickly.

“Want to talk about it?”

For a moment, just a moment, you consider telling him everything: about Lisa, missing and possibly dead. About Xiumin, who proved that you really couldn’t trust anyone. About Yoongi, whose betrayal hurt you more than any real boyfriend could. About Seoyeon, how she and her cronies followed you out of the hospital. About that night, the shove, the blood, the walk, the cold. About the photo, and how it ruined your lamppost meetings with Yoongi forever. You could tell him about how you found Seoyeon’s picture on Lisa’s laptop, making you fear the worst.

Or the relentless cyberbullying. Would Wonho understand? You reach up, rubbing your thumb against the Starry Night pendant. Your situation is comically unique – would anyone understand? You’re stronger now, yes, but what does your strength mean if Lisa is gone forever and Yoongi is dating your attacker?

Your phone buzzes. Finally, is it the contract from FYP Entertainment?

@mrsminnie<3: Guys! I made a poll, vote who u think Yoongi is better with- @seoyeonnielovesbts vs @yourname!

@jjksaysfuck: WHY does @yourname still think she’s relevant? Suga BROKE UP WITH HER lollll her career is #deadinthewater

@captainkookie21: @jjksaysfuck kinda like @yourname soon ;) #SUGA belongs to ARMYs! You’ll see ^-^

@streamDIEnamite03: Ok but like,,,, did anyone see that commercial with @WONHO and @yourname??? That was spicy 0_0

“Y/n?”

“Oh, sorry!” You realize you’ve been silent for several seconds too long. “Yeah. I’m fine. I should’ve known this would happen eventually, just…” You tuck your phone away. Not so soon.

“Dunno what he thinks he’s doing, showing up like this after that PR fiasco,” Wonho says, eyeing the door as though Yoongi is right behind it. “I mean, it looks like the girl wanted to come, Yoongi’s never been one for clubs. But seriously, dating a fan? You’d think he’d know better.”

You freeze. “Right.” You forgot that to the public, you and Yoongi met on the set of Possible. You forgot that you were never an ARMY – Yoongi wouldn’t date a fan.

“She gives me weird vibes, I dunno. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod. “I just want a few minutes without having to worry.” You’re both still standing awkwardly by the door, and you nod at the couch. “Wanna sit down? We can go back to the dance floor once we’ve caught our breath.”

“Sure. Hey, I never mentioned it earlier and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but that outfit looks really great on you.”

You laugh. Maybe the night doesn’t have to be a waste after all.

~~~

“Suga-bear~” Seoyeon coos. “Buy me a drink?” “Get your own,” Yoongi growls, tugging his arm out of her grasp. He forgot the group had a VIP room at Club Xyon; what were they doing in it?

Spread around the dancefloor, he sees Jungkook and Jimin having one of their famous dance battles; Taehyung is dancing in the front, vibing with the smitten DJ. Jin and Namjoon are sitting in a booth, surrounded by gorgeous idols.

And Hoseok is with him. Y/n and Wonho are alone.

Seoyeon is still whining. “But Suga, I want you to get it for me!”

Ugh. “Fine, what do you want?”

“Anything. Make it strong.”

Yoongi locks eyes with Hoseok, making sure he knows to keep an eye on Seoyeon, before heading to the bar.

“Suga!” The pretty mixologist grins broadly at his approach. “I’m a big fan! What can I get for you?”

Yoongi nods. “Thanks. Can I get some sparkling water with vodka on the rim and – I don’t know, something strong? Whatever you want to make, but with an extra shot.”

She nods, and sets about making the drinks. As he’s waiting, Yoongi’s phone buzzes with a text:

D-man: eyo Gloss [11:13]

D-man: got some shit for u [11:14]

Yoongi: Please tell me it’s good [11:14]

D-man: u don’t pay me for good u pay me for results [11:15]

D-man: anyway idk about good, but it’s something? [11:15]

D-man: seems weird tho [11:16]

Yoongi: What do you mean? [11:17]

D-man: hang on there’s more [11:17]

D-man: lemme call u soon [11:17]

Yoongi: ???? [11:18]

“Here are your drinks – oh, no charge!” The mixologist says with a wink. “I’m never taking a cent from BTS.”

Yoongi laughs, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Call it a tip, then. I insist.”

Hoseok’s smile is strained as Seoyeon dotes on him. Yoongi wishes he could laugh at his discomfort, but Hoseok is the only one besides him and Y/n that actually knows what the girl is capable of.

“Here.” He hands Seoyeon the drink and sips from his own sparkling water. He refuses to lose his inhibitions around her.

Wonho and Y/n are alone. What if he hurts her?

Seoyeon takes a big swig. She was already drinking in the car on the way to the club, and Yoongi doesn’t understand why, with so much at stake, she can have fun.

She hurt Y/n. She has Lisa. She hurt Y/n. She has Lisa. She hurt Y/n.

What he can’t understand is why Detective Kang and the rest of the police department aren’t investigating Seoyeon. Y/n did turn Lisa’s laptop over, right? Seoyeon’s photo was there, open on her desktop. Maybe they knew each other for unrelated reasons? But D would have told him.

Argh. This night wasn’t supposed to be such a mess. And what is Y/n doing?

~~~

“You’re kidding!” You snort into your glass of soju, almost spilling the drink down your front. “He said that?”

“Oh yeah. So I was like, dude, I’m not gonna fight you. Right? He was a head shorter than me. He didn’t like that, so he started swinging, but he ended up hitting my buddy–”

Already buzzed and determined to forget about Yoongi, you laugh harder than you need to. “That’s crazy.”

Your phone buzzes once, twice, three times. Argh. You glance at Wonho, hoping he didn’t notice the notification, but…

“Go ahead and take it,” Wonho says, ruffling his hair. “You’re hoping it’s the contract, right?”

“Ah – yeah, sorry.” You scroll through your notifications, past more hate messages. There’ve been fewer lately. You suppose you’re becoming old news. Still, some accounts have been more persistent. A text notification catches your eye:

Hi, L/n Y/n. I’m messaging you on behalf of Mr. Park of FYP entertainment. We expect a response to the contract offer by 5:00pm Tuesday.

“What?”

Wonho looks up from his screen. “What’s up?”

“This…” you furrow your brow. “This says I’ve already received the contract. But I’m certain I haven’t!” You reload your email inbox desperately, but nothing changes. Wonho leans closer, until you can feel the heat radiating off his body. “Check your trash folder?” he suggests.

“But I haven’t deleted anything!”

“Just check.”

You sigh and click to view your recently deleted emails. There, staring at you, is an email with the subject line L/n Y/n FYP Ent. Contract of Employment 20xx.

“Oh my gosh, there it is!” You squeal, quickly moving it back to your inbox before tossing your phone aside and throwing your arms around Wonho. “Thank you so much!”

Wonho is quick to hug you back, laughing. “Of course. Glad I could help solve the mystery.”

As you gaze at Wonho, you’re filled with elation. Wonho’s easy. Unproblematic. Kind. “Wanna go back and dance?”

“Your wish, my command,” he replies with a wink. As you stand from the couch, Wonho steals a last glance at his phone- and does a double take. “Yo, what?”

“Wassup?”

“Ah, nothing. Just some stupid gossip about, er, Yoongi’s new girlfriend.”

Something burns in your throat. “Anything interesting?”

“Nah. Some people are saying that ‘cause her dad’s a cop, Yoongi must’ve committed a crime and her dad is letting him off if he dates Seoyeon.” Wonho chuckles. “The things people invent when they’ve got too much time on their hands.”

“What do you mean, her dad is a cop?”

He shrugs. “Detective, I guess. Same difference, and somehow I doubt Yoongi’s a felon. So! Are we gonna go dance?”

Kang Seoyeon.

“Yeah,” you reply, suddenly breathless. “Let’s dance.”

~~~

“I love this song!” Seoyeon squeals, waving her arms in the air. Yoongi, sipping his sparkling water, is doing his best to ignore her, while Hoseok is amusing himself with Seoyeon’s antics.

Yoongi wishes he could relax and enjoy himself, but with Y/n’s would-be killer and most certainly Lisa’s kidnapper now throwing it back to HyunA, and with D having something for him, Yoongi can’t do anything but stare around tensely. Suddenly, he notices Y/n and Wonho rejoining everyone on the dance floor. They’re laughing shoulder-to-shoulder. He feels a bolt of jealousy strike him like lightning, so fierce that he can barely breathe.

“Suga bear!” Seoyeon shouts, slurring her words slightly. She’s already finished her drink and is halfway through another. “You love me, right?”

Fucking hell. “No,” Yoongi replies, his voice flat. Behind Seoyeon, Yoongi can see Hoseok slap a hand to his mouth to stifle his laughter.

Seoyeon’s eyes fill with tears. “B-but you have to love me! I worked so hard, Suga! I did it all for you! You have to love me!”

Worked so hard? She had stalked him, tried to kill Y/n, and kidnapped Lisa. “Did all what for me?” Yoongi snarls. “You little –”

Bzzt. Bzzt. D is calling him.

Yoongi stares from his phone to Seoyeon to Y/n and Wonho across the dance floor. Shit. “Hoseok, keep an eye on her, okay?”

Hoseok salutes dramatically. “Yessir!”

With that, Yoongi snakes away from the crowd, eventually finding a less populated corner that gives him a perfect view of Y/n and Wonho having a great time. Wait… is it his imagination, or does Y/n look-

“Gloss! Yo, my guy!”

Yoongi tapped his foot impatiently. “C’mon, what’ve you got?”

“Jeez, gimme a sec! Okay, so. Remember how that photo of you and Y/n was going around?”

“Yeah.”

“Right, so it came from, like, one of the red-haired chick’s backup accounts.”

“D, you fuckin’ told me this shit already, man.”

“I’m getting there! Stardom’s making you annoying, come back to Daegu.”

Yoongi snorts. “Keep talking.”

“So, you asked if Lisa had any side socials that weren’t under her name, right?”

“Uh-huh…”

“Well, I did a bit of digging – I charge extra for all the thirst tweets I had to look at, by the way – and I found that the fan account Seoyeon posted on has a very interesting username… one that corresponds pretty damn well to one her mutuals.” D took a deep breath. “Seoyeon’s account was called ‘@capkookies_btsbff’, and her mutual’s account is @captainkookie21. Remember how she kept talking about someone named Cap? Sooo I looked at that account, poking around, yknow? First thing: This was a total BTS fan account till, like, a few months ago. But after that? Gloss, this is some of the worst hate I’ve seen in a hot sec.”

“Whaddya mean, hate?”

“Hate towards your girl, bro! All sorts of bullshit, creepy stuff. Now, the IP address – which I took the liberty of finding, you’re welcome – tells me they’re in Seoul. The more interesting thing is that the address changed, and only a little over a month ago.”

“How can that change? I thought IPs were tied to devices.”

“They totally are! But socials aren’t. So this person was using one device, up until a month ago, and then switched.”

“They got a new phone?”

“Maybe. Or maybe they were trying to hide their location and were forced to use a new device.”

Yoongi’s forehead wrinkled. “Wha…”

He could hear D sigh over the phone. “Dude! Don’t you get it? Before they switched devices, this account was linked to Lisa’s phone!”

Yoongi’s jaw goes slack. That night at Seoyeon’s house… “Cap said you’d come to me. We’re meant to be.”

~~~

“W-Where’s Suuuu-ga?” Seoyeon whines, clutching at Hoseok’s arm. She finished the rest of her glass and is now clearly well on her way to drunk.

“He’ll be back soon,” Hoseok replies, trying to blend his movement in with the heavy bass so that he and Seoyeon don’t stand out too much.

“All I did was love him,” Seoyeon says now, her eyes wide and doe-like.

Hoseok makes a face. “You stalked him.”

Shaking her head vehemently, Seoyeon takes another pull of her drink. “Nuh-uh. I never did.”

Hoseok purses his lips. She’s clearly willing to let slip information, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of her vulnerability. “You followed him to that hospital, and that lamppost. That’s called stalking.”

“Nooooooo I di-hic-didn’t,” Seoyeon warbles, swaying. Hoseok catches her and props her up, brows knit. Is she okay? Of course, Hoseok was the last to claim a title for holding one’s liquor, but Seoyeon seems insistent on getting wasted.

“I was just –” Seoyeon hiccups and giggles to herself. “Captain’s orders!”

“Orders?”

“Oops!” Seoyeon claps a hand over her mouth, stumbling backwards and bumping into an actress Heoseok recognizes from his favorite drama. “Nothingggg.”

This could be interesting. Hoseok plucks the glass from her hand, holding it away as she reaches for it. “Ah-ah-ah. I’ll give it back once you tell me what you meant.”

Seoyeon laughs, the sound going from a cute drunk giggle to something more intense, more concerning. “C-caaan’t~ Cap said I had to keep quiet.”

“Just tell me why you said you weren’t stalking Yoongi. You were following him, right? How else could you have found him at the hospital? And that lamppost?”

Seyeon sticks her tongue out. “Not telling!”

Is this really the same girl who shoved Y/n into a river and kidnapped Lisa under everyone’s noses?

Hoseok pauses and thinks. “Yoongi hasn’t kissed you, has he?”

Almost immediately, Seoyeon’s eyes well up with tears once more. “No! He never even touches me!”

“You know, I bet if you told me everything, he’d be really grateful.” Hoseok leans forward conspiratorially, barely able to hear himself over the music and shouts on the dance floor. “I’m sure he’d love you then.”

Seoyeon lets out a squeal that sounds practically inhuman. “Really?”

“Mhm.” Hoseok swallows down his guilt with the reassurance that he’s doing this for Y/n and Yoongi’s sakes. “So what were you doing at the hospital?”

Seoyeon stops and thinks hard, her face serious for the first time all night. “You really think he’ll love me? He won’t be mad?”

“Of course.”

Suddenly, Seoyeon shoots forward and snatches her glass away from Hoseok, downing the rest of the drink before he can blink. “I just wanted to be with him,” she says, wiping a droplet from her lips. “But I wasn’t following him. Cap said that she was at the hospital.” Seoyeon’s eyes turn dark, furious, the change so severe that Hoseok flinches. “Cap said she wanted to take Suga away from me. So I waited outside the hospital with my friends. Suga doesn’t belong to her!” Placing her glass on a nearby table, Seoyeon tugs at Hoseok’s sleeve desperately. “He belongs to me! To us, to ARMYs!”

Goosebumps erupt along Hoseok’s arms. Fans like this have always terrified him. To claim ownership of a person just because they were an idol… “And the lamppost? You didn’t follow Y/n, did you?”

Seoyeon blinks heavily. “I didn’t seeeee her after she fell into the river. Cap just told me where to go, and when I saw them hugging, I wanted to kill Y/n.” She smiles sweetly as though her words were nothing but innocent.

Hoseok can feel his stomach roil. “Why did you do all this?”

“Duh!” Seoyeon sweeps her arm around, gesturing at the club. “Cap’s friends with BTS! I was promised that Cap could set me up with Suga. And – hic – it worked.”

“We’re not friends. What?” Is this person someone the group knows? But Hoseok can’t think of many people the members of Bangtan are all friends with, except Y/n. No, surely…? She wouldn’t do that to herself.

It’s getting her a lot of publicity, a tiny voice in Hoseok’s head reminds him.

“W-What do you mean?” Seoyeon asks, a pout forming on her lips. “‘Course you are. After all, she has a video of Jimin saying her name.”

Hoseok’s heart is hammering in his chest. Y/n does love to tease Jimin. “At a fansign?” It would make sense, at least.

“Noooo~” Seoyeon says in a slurred singsong voice. “In your apartment.” She giggles, covering her mouth. “I recognized it from your lives!”

Hoseok’s own mouth goes dry. Had Y/n been manipulating his friend this whole time? “Oh.”

66 notes · View notes

spacemilkies · 4 years

Note

Ff7 request, Reno likes his girl taking some control over him when it comes to intimate things. Being dominated a little, he finds it extremely hot. Nsfw, sfw, your choice, but maybe some steamy kissing? Hair pulling, groping, idk, whatever you come up with ;)

Black Forest | Reno x Reader

‘The only thing harder than being a Turk, was loving one’

a/n: this was pretty much all mature content? but i'm not ashamed of it in the slightest. adding it to the black forest series, bc why not. thank you for the request!

When people thought of Reno, three things came to mind.

1. His love to fly

2. His love to flirt shamelessly,

3. His love to gossip freely.

It built the character of the cocky and often cynical Turk with a lazy disposition toward analytical genius.

When Reno thought of you, three different attributes came to mind, all centered around his adoration of your more assertive nature.

1#: Your love for attention.

Reno is convinced that he has a sixth sense for you, acutely aware every time you’re in proximity. It’s always been a distracting quality, whether in the heat of battle or now, relaxed comfortably against the couch with suspicious eyes as you kneel innocently between his spread thighs.

His call with Rude had started with business but eventually simmered into more mundane topics of social affairs and various forms of entertainment. Their partnership wasn’t a strong union without a bit of off-the-clock bonding.

It served as some much needed guy time, which was very prominently exclusive from yours.

Your selfish desire to have his attention at any given moment should have been an aggravating quality if you didn’t look so damn sexy with your attempts to garner it. Even now as his gaze follows the curve of your back as you arch to press your bosom against his chest.

He knows where this is leading immediately, yet only a small part of him feels bad for Rude.

“I … ah, no Yeah, I’m listening. I missed that highlight though. Tell me about it.”

Reno is aware of the tremor already thrumming at the end of his speech, an element of the situation that he can’t really do anything about. Neither about the hitch as you adjust your weight to hover over his apex, undulating your hips at a leisure pace with a whisper of friction. It’s the visual of promise that does most of the work as he watches the show through a half-lidded gaze. His arousal spiked the moment you entered the room and you already had a tight grip on the reins.

His leisure wear around the house does nothing to hide the thick line of provocation raising against the fabric. Reno tips his head back against the couch, the column of his throat jumping with a thick swallow as you adopt a more purposeful rhythm.

Sunlight spills across the whiteness of your smile as he responds brokenly to a prompt you can’t pick up on the other line. There’s a tremor to his hold of the phone, tight enough that you wonder if he’ll end the call prematurely before your fun is over.

Poor Rude has to know something is up as he fruitlessly attempts to gather the fraying threads of Reno’s attention. You can finally hear the deep baritone of his voice when you duck your head to run the flat of your tongue against Reno’s collar. There you nibble at the bone, teeth catching in away that he can’t ignore as a low groan tumbles from the redhead’s lips.

It’s enough to shift the rules of the game as you break an unnamed vow of silence, breathless sounds catching as you work yourself harder against the wet stain pooling in his lap. The pleasure is more than mutual now, Reno’s shoulder’s going taut with strain. He wets his lips sloppily and tilts his hips upwards to catch the downward drag against his more than interested erection.

The moment he opens his mouth to speak, you’re there to kiss the heat straight from his tongue, demanding entrance without question as your tongue slides against his aperture. With a whimper and sigh, you shift closer.

You’re not sure who breaks the kiss first, only reminded of a certain third party as Reno’s mouth skims down your chin.

“Sorry, Rude. It appears I’ve been summoned.”

#2 Your love to punish.

“Aw, Reno are you crying?”

He wasn’t, he wanted to deny vehemently. But as his eyes drew in tight together and the moisture collected against his lashes it didn't make for a very convincing argument. Shifting fruitlessly, Reno draws in a harrowing breath as the strain of his muscles pulls against the taut restraints pinning him to the bed frame.

It had taken him too long into a week of silence to realize he was the reason behind it. He had interpreted your cold shoulders and lack of communication as stress on the job, certainly not taking into account the plethora of time it allowed you to simmer about his blunder.

A fault he still couldn't pinpoint but he was sure if he asked anyone at the office, they would be able to procure a list out of nowhere. The redhead had a tendency to align towards recklessness and careless attitudes which more than often spelt trouble. One would think he would have learned his lesson by now. But they weren’t privy to the curriculum of those classes.

Or how enjoyable they were.

Or maybe he was just a bit of a masochist.

Folded snuggly around his turgid cock, Reno found heaven in the pits of hell as your drenched core worked back and forth. You were a sight to behold, seemingly unaffected aside from a light sheen of sweats as you grind the bareness of your flesh against his. While he’s the opposite, harsh pants and uninhibited whimpers.

And you enjoy it all with a wicked smile.

You adjust your hands, placing on against the firm heat of his chest while the other braces against the white curve of his shoulder, fingers curling into a visible pressure that blooms against the color of his skin. Your back arches, allowing the head of his cock to catch at the ring of your entrance before rotating back to ride back down his shaft.

His arms jerk with the motion of trying to reach, but it's an empty action without any real intent. More of a reflex than anything else. The spill of his precum makes a sticky web between your fingers as you circle the sensitive slit with your thumb. He’s swollen and fat and barely hanging on by a prayer.

With the help of a cock ring it might have made it easier. No matter how hard he tried to cum it just wouldn’t be in his cards. But there was something more beautiful about the curtailment he holds himself accountable to, resisting the urge to blow when having all the freedom to do so.

There is active pleasure in riding him like this, feeling every vein of his throbbing arousal spike gratification against your sensitive walls. But the true satisfaction came from every shudder and choked groan as he shakes his head to fight off the haze.

Mercy is a thin promise, slippery as your tongue skims across the seam of his lips. He believes it’s the closest he’ll get to tasting you, a bitter whimper leaking from his mouth in a muffled sound. The kiss is messy and hungry as you allow him the opportunity to sample your pleasure.

It only takes a subtle twist of the hips to guide his cock back in line as you back into the press of him inside you. Your wetness spills around him, almost excessively so as it spills against his inner thigh. It doesn’t take much for you to lose traction of your own orgasm, nothing stopping you from quaking freely around him as he rolls into a few finishing thrusts before stilling.

He’s rock hard, tremulous and near delirium and yet-

“Fuck me … I’m so in love with you.”

#3 You love the satisfaction of pleasing what's yours.

“You look stressed.”

Despite the mountain of paperwork on his desk, Reno’s attention was happily placed elsewhere. Before rolling to you, his gaze seemed very attentive to the screen of his phone as his fingers tapped a rhythm that looked more familiar to a mobile game than a response for a work related email. But now that you were here, he seemed pleased to have a new distraction.

Curling his fingers inward, he beckoned you closer and the moment you were in reach he pulled you into his lap.

“Beyond fucked over, you see all this shit Tseng has me doing?”

Laughing humorously at his expense, you leaned in to press a kiss to the generous exposure of his chest. “If that’s the same stack I saw delivered in here earlier today, I’m more inclined to say the blame is in your park. Did you even try?”

The hand at your waist squeezed as his lips formed something between a gripe and a grumble of complaint. “Of course I’ve been workin, yo. What do I look like, a freeloader?”

It was an open invitation that took credible effort not to buy into.

“You look like you could use a bit of TLC.”

Bracing against his shoulder, you readjust yourself to straddle his lap. Taking his face into your hands, you coax him into a slow kiss the taste of stale coffee and mints mixing with your own tang. Reno bites your tongue and you reflexively tangle your hands in his hair to pull it taut.

He winces at the action but doesn’t complain. “What are the chances of you riding me being in that wholesome itinerary of yours?”

You take the opportunity to make him flinch again, this time away from the sharp nip of your teeth against his bottom lip. “Slim to none.”

He offered a placating medium by rubbing his palms against your thighs, “So what do you have in mind then?”

His answer comes in the form of your hands at his buckle.

Pleased with the predictable but unvoiced assumption, Reno leans back readily in his chair to give you ample room. “Oh, shit yeah.”

Rolling your eyes, you free him from his briefs and curl your fingers around his length,”Try not to embarrass yourself.”

The redhead hisses out a ‘yes, ma’am’, instinctively rocking his hips into the downward thrust of your hand. You pull away just long enough to spit crudely into your palm before returning with an underhand grip. Anticipation seizes his muscles, overlaying the strain of stress as eyes slid shut.

At home you would have gone for a more languid approach, mimicking a gentle massage to build him up slowly and bring him down just as gently. But work offers a different time restraint as you work up to a more persistent, fluid motion strokes.

The hand still lingering on your thigh squeezes reflectively to the drag of your thumb over the head of his cock. The setting is too much of a stimulant to ignore, the need to rush injecting adrenaline into his veins and blooms outward from the line of his spine.

Familiar with the course of pleasure, you preemptively snatch a few tissues from the corner of his desk just in time to save his uniform from the spilling capitulation.

You’re still running the edges of the balled up material against your hands when his eyes blink open.

“Aw, you’re not going to lick it off? What a buzz kill.”

Despite his seemingly ungrateful wording, his tone held the gratitude needed to produce a smile on your lips to which he mirrors. Tucked away but still unbuttoned, he draws you in for a kiss that you indulge momentarily before slipping away.

When you look over your shoulder, the man is still sagged in his chair with a look of satisfaction as his wiggles his fingers in your direction.

“See you at home, yo. Thanks for the good ole’ love and care.”

#reno x reader #ff7 reno #ffvii x reader #ffvii remake

397 notes · View notes

timextoxhajima · 4 years

Audio

Playlist Feels

Part 1: Crying In The Club

Member: Juyeon (ft. Hyunjae/changmin????)

Genre: idk man. angst/chill/slice of life/fluff????? irdk

A/N: this was requested. no, i’m not like, posting/asking openly for requests BUT if you happen to see this, then you’re in luck. the only reason why i haven’t opened for requests is because i don’t have a large pool of followers, so if you like my style of writing and you have faith in me (because i’m not the greatest writer out there), feel free to drop me a dm/ask. i’m currently writing for tbz/nct/ateez/maybe txt idk, if you’re really interested, we can work something out :D

A/N part 2: i’m a very emotional (?) person when it comes to writing (otherwise i’m a stone cold bitch lol), so when i was asked if i could write a part 2 to this juyeon piece, i was quite surprised. the first reason being: i didn’t think the request would be for this particular piece of work for juyeon, because it got like 8 notes at the point of time i got the ask. the second reason is that i wrote the first part for me to release my feelings. whatever i wrote in the first part mirrors my feelings/situation in real life (yeah, i may or may not be worried about an ex-boyfriend stalking me welp, and yeah i may or may not have caught feelings for someone i know who stays in my dorm. unfortunately, it’s only in my imagination that he comes to my rescue, ha.). i just found it very mysterious (?) and strange about all these coincidences and it also made me really happy that people enjoy reading what i write :D

to the person who requested this, i hope you won’t be disappointed!

“what?” your friend nearly screams in your face. thank god the drinking crowd doesn’t come in until around 10pm, else the whole bar would be looking at the both of you. “like-- the lee juyeon? the one that’s got a fucking billion girls on his tail? and he kissed you?”

you look up over the rim of your spectacles and the edge of your laptop screen, and your friend completely loses it at the sight of your face that was void of emotion.

“the hell’s wrong with you?! didn’t you confess to the man like, a month ago? now, he’s god done kissed you, stayed over in your room when your crazy, psycho ex-boyfriend’s following you, and you have no feelings or opinion to account for that?”

your eyes were half-hooded from the cider, though not nearly enough to even make you tipsy, it was enough to make your eyelids droop a little lower than if you were wide awake.

“just because i liked him, doesn’t mean i need to warrant him any more attention. i’m too tired of this stuff anyway, especially with what happened to the relationship with my crazy, psycho ex-boyfriend,” you say with a lack of affection, only looking back to your laptop screen and resuming your furious typing. your friend has her hands on both sides of her face, nearly squishing all her features while she stares wide-eyed at you.

it felt so long ago that juyeon kissed you for the sake of scaring your stalker away, when it was merely a week ago. since then, you prayed every day not to run into juyeon or your stalker.

thank god you’ve seen neither. your prayers have been heard.

“whatever happened with your crazy ex-boyfriend shouldn’t have anything to do with whatever you want to do with your feelings now. are you really going to let him ruin your chances of being with freakin’ lee juyeon?”

“easy for you to say, you weren’t the one being threatened and stalked,” you retorted, not even bothering to look at her. you were lucky your friend knew the whole story, because any other person would’ve shut you down for being so rude and blunt. truth was, she knew you were emotionally exhausted, to the point where you were emotionally unavailable. even if lee juyeon really had a thing for you, it was going to take a lot of effort to encourage you to try building something out of a relationship with one of the school’s most popular boys.

you hear her sigh before finishing her own bottle of cider.

“i just want my feelings for juyeon to go away. i don’t want anything to do with the man, not when he’s got so many girls after him, not when i obviously don’t stand a chance at winning him over even if i was interested.”

your friend glares at you, with the words “really?” printed into her forehead.

“i’m not even gonna bother anymore. you do what you want with juyeon,” you smile at her final announcement to leave the case. you watch with softer eyes, your arms perched on the table and your chin resting on your clasped hands while she packed her stuff. “but mark my words, if it’s anything i know, lee juyeon doesn’t go around kissing people.”

you roll your eyes, pulling away from the table as she picks up her bag.

“haven’t we established that he only did it because i was being followed--”

“my girl, you don’t get a say in this. you’re too emotionally occupied... or shut down, to see what’s really happening. but from what my cousin tells me, juyeon’s not the kind to offer such intimate acts to people he doesn’t know well. that, you can trust my cousin.”

you bare your teeth in disgust at her final blow. if she hadn’t reminded you, you would’ve forgotten that changmin, who was part of juyeon’s popular boy clique, was a cousin of hers.

“i gotta bolt, you have fun and please don’t go back too late. i doubt juyeon’s going to magically appear again at one thirty in the morning to save your ass,” she looks back over her shoulder and raises a brow at you. nodding your head gently, you wave her off.

you mirror your friend’s actions from before and press your hands to the sides of your face, your fingers pressing against your temple. you shut your eyes gently, listening to the soft ‘clink clanks’ from the counter near the kitchen, and the soft shuffle and distant talking from other students in the bar.

“lee juyeon doesn’t go around kissing people”

you shake yourself out of it, drinking some water before resuming your work on your laptop. whatever your friend said about you being emotionally unavailable was true, but you had no clue how to get over it, and frankly, even if you did know how, it was going to take a lot of courage and a lot of patience.

you work on your stuff for about an hour, making a deal with yourself to head back to your room before midnight while the bar would be at its busiest. you thank the student staff who recognised you from the previous week, pulling out your phone from your pocket and empty-mindedly scrolling through your social media.

then, someone calls out to you.

instantly, all the blood rushes from every part of your body and into your chest. that voice... there was no way you were ever going to forget it.

your grip on your phone gets tighter, and your heart begins to race. your mind screams ‘run’ but your body reacts exactly like how every dumb white girl acts in a horror movie.

“i was wondering where you’ve been. i didn’t think you’d be back here after... well, last week,” you hear him scoff, and the sound of his shoes against the floor translates into a smaller gap between the two of you. “smart move, i must say. big reverse-psyche move right there.”

your breathing gets heavier, and your eyes were no longer tired from the alcohol. the fact that he was standing right behind you was making you feel trapped, and even though you could’ve taken off in any direction, the memory of what he did completely rendered your ability to move, useless.

“i don’t want to see you again, please. i stand by what i said last year, i’ll ruin your fucking life if i see you again.”

you take a step forward, but he grabs your arm from behind, harshly pulling you around so you were facing him.

nothing about him changed. his facial features, his height, his hair might’ve grown a little longer, but the look that you stole your will to love was still in his eyes. you wince as you try to pull away, but he doesn’t budge.

“ruin my life?” he smirks, and it makes you want to slap him across the face. “sure, but not after i ruin yours too.”

you felt your gut twisting like crazy inside of you, and your legs were losing their energy to even let you stand. you wince at his tightening grip on your forearm, and all you wanted to do was to kick him in the nuts, but you just couldn’t move.

“you’ve already ruined mine...” you quietly inform, remembering the feeling of being completely worthless, completely destroyed by him. “why are you doing this? you’ve already ruined my life, what benefit do you get from it?”

“oh?” his eyes widen, and a smug look pulls up on his face. “what about that kiss in the lift last week? didn’t he sleep over as well? i was there till four am, and he never left the building. i thought you’ve already moved on.”

you grit your teeth as both anger and fear runs through your blood.

you open your mouth, ready to hurl a string of vulgarities at him and protest against him being the world’s worst person, but someone beats you to it.

“pretty sure she already did, man.”

the psycho looks up from you and looks over your head, the smug smile completely wiped away and was replaced with a look of despise and anger.

you shut your eyes tightly, sucking your lips in between your teeth as you tilt your head like you were in pain.

it was hyunjae’s voice, and there was an almost close to zero possibility that he wasn’t with juyeon.

“mind letting my girl go?”

there it was.

you frown to yourself at juyeon’s words, still being held in an awkward position while you faced the psycho’s chest, and his eyes still glued to the two boys behind you.

“are you deaf or do you not understand simple instructions?” you finally see hyunjae reach your footing, and hyunjae lays a hand on the psycho’s grip on you. the psycho only lets go because he couldn’t read hyunjae.

you shift away quickly, rubbing your arm where his grip on you was marked with reddening lines. you back away and bump into juyeon, who only stretched out his arm in front of you, pushing you backwards behind him.

“did he hurt you?” juyeon turns to the side, only showing you his side profile.

“no...” you trail off, still rubbing your arm. the lines turn into light bruises, and you can only tell yourself that you were going to wear long-sleeved tops until they healed.

juyeon turns back to hyunjae, who now had his arm pressed against the psycho’s chest. for a moment, the psycho looked like he was ready to eat you like a lion hunting its prey, and the only things in his way were hyunjae and juyeon.

“go back to the dorms. i’ll come check up on you afterwards,” juyeon instructs. you watch as he takes large steps towards hyunjae and the psycho. you were already backing off, but his eyes never leave you while juyeon and hyunjae try to talk him out of being crazy.

your view of the psycho was almost completely obstructed by juyeon, and hyunjae was talking to him by his side. all of a sudden, the psycho lunges forward, pushing past juyeon and towards you. the sight causes you to jerk backwards and stumble to turn and run.

hyunjae grabs him by the arm while juyeon’s first instinct was to run back to your side, and before you knew it, juyeon has fingers intertwined with the collar of the psycho’s shirt, his fists balled up and their faces inches away from one another.

hyunjae watches on from a short distance away, hands on his hips as he scans the situation.

“does she look like she still belongs to you? does she look like she’s got your name plastered to her forehead? last i checked, i was the one who kissed her and spent the night with her, not you,” juyeon’s voice was low, and strangely calm. you wonder if he’s truly ever lost his temper at anybody. “oh, i forgot. you know, right?”

you were backed up enough to see the look on your stalker’s face, which was now contorted into an ugly mess of distaste, anger and disgust.

“after all we went through, you take one year to get over it? so quickly?” your stalker scoffs, loud enough for you to hear, loud enough to push all the wrong buttons.

juyeon shoves him backwards and pushes him so hard that he falls to the floor. before he could get up, juyeon has his foot on his chest, weighing him down.

“you really need to think twice about what you do around here. not only did you choose to be a crazy, psychotic stalker in a public area, but you just had to choose the one corner with a fully functioning CCTV.”

your stalker, who was on the ground, looks up and around the area, and you could see the intensity of panic that filled him the moment he saw the blinking red dot on the camera mounted to the corner where the ceiling met the wall.

“and unlike you, i’m not dumb enough to pick a fight with you,” juyeon retracts his legs and exchanged quick glances with hyunjae. “you can wait for your letter of expulsion to come in your letter box wherever you’re staying in school. and you better believe that if i see you anywhere near her, i’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life locked up behind bars.”

hyunjae turns and looks at you, allowing juyeon to finish his statement. he pats him on the shoulder, telling him to leave him alone. after a few moments of intense glaring between the psycho and juyeon, he finally backs away and follows behind hyunjae as they approach you.

you were back in your room, rocking back and forth with your rear mounted to the floor. hyunjae was on the phone telling the other boys that he and juyeon were sitting out from tonight’s drink session because ‘juyeon wasn’t feeling well’, while juyeon was sitting opposite you, watching you spiral into your own hole of thoughts and despair.

“they’re not gonna buy the excuse, but they let us off the hook,” hyunjae locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket, crossing his arms across his chest. juyeon nods at hyunjae, and the older boy takes his leave.

he shuffles nearer to you upon the door shutting, his legs on either sides of your hips and his feet under your bed. you were nearly leaning on it, with your knees hugged tightly against your chest. you were stuck between him and your bed, but who even cared anymore?

your vision was zoning out, but you feel him trying to take your arm when he notices the light bruises on your skin.

“i’m fine,” you muttered sharply, hiding your hand between your stomach and your thighs.

“why do you stay out so late? and alone?” he lowers his head, matching his eye level with yours. “i thought you would’ve learnt your lesson from last week.”

“i didn’t think he was going to circle back and find me at the bar again. i thought he’d scour the whole school looking for me, then give up once he realises i’m hiding from him.”

juyeon pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue and runs a hand through his blue hair. “but he knows where you stay.”

“and i thought he’d back off after seeing us--” you straighten yourself to finish the sentence, frustrated that juyeon was interrogating you and speaking the obvious. but then you realise you couldn’t say it without feeling butterflies in your stomach.

damn these feelings.

juyeon raises a cocky brow, though not obvious, but it was easy to notice. a soft smile creeps up on the corners of his lips.

“so you were riding on the hope that he’d buy our skit?” juyeon shuffles forward again, now that you were sitting up straight and that movement created extra space between the two of you. you crane your neck backwards, the lack of distance between his nose and your eyes becoming painfully difficult to ignore.

“i mean...” you look away, annoyed at his ability to turn such a horrible night into one of his little talking games. “if hyunjae or changmin saw it, maybe they’d buy it. i know i would, especially if i didn’t know the situation.”

“changmin?” juyeon was now grinning, his eyes halving into crescents. “all of a sudden, why changmin?”

“i was with a friend earlier tonight at the bar. she’s changmin’s cousin and i know the both of you are close.”

juyeon hums in acknowledgement, now scratching a spot on his cheek.

there was an awkward silence in the air, and you couldn’t hear much besides your heavy breathing, split second flashes of whatever happened just about half an hour ago still running on repeat in your head.

“do you want to know something?”

you look up at him through the corners of your eyes, slightly afraid to look at him all too directly. there was something in his voice that was so alluring, like he was about to tell you a world-class secret.

“do i want to know?” you cautiously returned a question. juyeon chuckles and stretches both his arms forwards, resting his hands on the mattress behind your shoulders. your eyes widen as the change in position further narrows whatever distance you previously had, and if you weren’t already dying at the fact that you were caged between his arms, you were combusting at how close he was to you.

so close, that you could feel his breath on your forehead.

“changmin and hyunjae would totally buy it.”

huh?

“do you want to know why? or are you capable of deciphering ‘why’ yourself?”

oh, god, no. please, no.

“if i said no, could you spare me the information?” you ask, still refusing to look at him. juyeon chuckles again.

time seemed to pass extremely slowly as you fail to react to him removing one of his hands from the bed, now reaching up to your chin and pulling it to face him.

your heart picks up its pace again, and instead of fear that ran through you previously, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies that were filling your stomach.

“if you’re about to confess, i’m begging you not to.”

juyeon’s smile disappears, and an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability and pity washes over you. your eyes don’t falter despite looking straight into juyeon’s. your words came out almost like a whisper, and if he wasn’t this close to you, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“why?” he asks quietly.

you feel your eye brow twitch, and your nose turn slightly sour.

oh, no, why do you choose to cry now?

“i can’t afford another heartbreak. i can’t afford feeling like i’m nothing again. not after i chose to give him my time, my heart... my body. only for him to use it against me, only for him to say that nobody will love me because of how depressed i am all the damn time...”

you shake your chin out of juyeon’s fingers, looking away as you feel the tears welling up in your eyes again.

you feel your tears dribble down over your cheeks, and before you could reach up to your face to wipe them away, juyeon beats you to it. but instead of wiping your tears, you found yourself stuck in another kiss.

this time, it wasn’t for show.

there was nobody else around for him to ‘scare off’.

you shut your eyes upon the contact, allowing all the cooped up tears to wash out from the crevices of your lids. juyeon has your cheeks cupped in his large hands that were probably the size of your face.

the touch reminds you of when you first kissed your ex-boyfriend. the feeling of melting chocolate fondue, the feeling of coming home to a warm cup of tea on a cold day--

you hurriedly pull away, panic slowly filling your heart again. “juyeon--”

“you begged me not to confess, but i hope that was enough to show you what i wanted to say.” juyeon interrupts, his thumbs now wiping away the droplets of tears hanging from your jawline and the trails left on your cheeks.

“but i’m never going to be able to act like i’m in a normal relationshi--”

“so be it,” he holds up your face so you had no choice but to look at him. “whoever said i wanted a ‘normal relationship’? it was my choice to choose you, and so it’s my choice to be with you as you are.”

you feel the panic slowly wear away, and his words warm your heart.

“give me time and i’ll prove that you’re the one i want to be with. i know it’s not easy to believe that with all the... girls chasing us around all the time... but i hope you’ll still give me a chance. one month ago, you told me you didn’t want an answer and all you wanted to do was to get it off your chest and get over me. i hope you haven’t succeeded.”

you feel your facial muscles relax at his confession, and the warmth radiating from his hands on your face made you feel so safe, so protected, in a long, long time.

“i haven’t,” you gently shake your head, reaching up to pull his hand away from your face and draw circles on the back of his hand.

juyeon gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen on him. he pulls you into his chest as you exhale all the worries from your heart.

it was definitely going to take a lot of courage and patience, but if juyeon was going to do whatever he said he would, then you couldn’t be any more happier to try.

#timetohajima #timetohajima playlist feels #juyeon #lee juyeon #the boyz #the boyz juyeon #angst #drama #tw abuse #tw depression #juyeon fanfic #juyeon imagine #juyeon scenario #the boyz fanfic #the boyz scenario #argh #my hearteu dieded

122 notes · View notes

ghostiewriter · 4 years

Note

44/66/69 jiara with angst if you please 😜

God this kinda escalated 💀but I hope this is what you wanted, nonnie!

Word Count: 2.3K

Prompts: “I can’t believe you didn’t remember.” // “K.” // “Can you just leave me alone?”

For as long as she could remember, Kiara Carrera was in love with JJ Maybank.

She had tried not to give into the social constructs that people place on a girl whose friends with three boys, the last thing she wanted was to prove them right. But she really couldn’t help herself when it came to that finnicky little blond troublemaker. Kiara couldn’t control it. One day, JJ was just her usual best friend who was gross and funny and overall quite cool. And the next day, she was starting to notice how he was beginning to build some more muscle and how she liked the way his hair was messy but still looked good and how his laughs started to give her butterflies. She honestly didn’t know what happened but she couldn’t deny it. She was in love with JJ Maybank.

It was around 8th Grade when JJ started to notice that Kiara was no longer Kiara. She was Kiara. It was stupid of him, truly. He knew the rules, and he would never want to do anything to ruin his friendship with Kiara. She was his best friend. But it was getting harder and harder to just see her as ‘one of the pogues’ and not as ‘Kiara Carrera: the super-hot hippie chick that was slumming it with them’. JJ had always noticed girls, he’d been noticing them for a while. But Kie was different. Kie had always been different.

The summer after 8th Grade was one of pure torture. The pogues spent every day together and yet, both JJ and Kiara were finding it harder and harder to deny their feelings. They were young, they were hormonal, and they were confused. They were a couple of months from entering high school and figuring out the feelings they had for their best friend was the last thing on their mind. As usual, Pope and John B remained oblivious to what was happening between their two friends. And that is exactly how JJ and Kiara ended up alone on the back porch of the Chateau as Pope and John B headed inside, claiming they were beat and couldn’t stay awake any longer.

Kie glanced down at the half-full beer can in her hand—they had stolen a few from Big John—before offering it to the blond who had finished his a while back. JJ grinned and took the can happily, taking a large swing of it. The silence between them was deafening.

“Everything is going to change, isn’t it?’ Kie eventually spoke up, causing JJ to turn to her with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s bound to, right? We’re starting high school.” She huffed out, watching him take another sip before he passed the can back to her. “It’s a whole different ball game over there.”

He frowned. “It’s still school, Kie.”

“Yeah but,” She paused, his gaze falling to his wrecked converse. “What if…what if we don’t survive through high school? What if high school is what it takes to break up the pogues?”

JJ watched her closely, seeing that this wasn’t just some joke. This was something that had really been bothering her. JJ sighed, quickly shuffling closer and knocking his shoulder against hers. “Nothing can break the pogues, Kie. We are invincible.”

She turned to look at him, her lips pressed together like she was contemplating something. “Are we though?”

“Kie,” He whispered, a small crease forming between his eyebrows. “We’ll always be friend, no matter what.” He paused for a moment. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Her eyes trailed down his face before pausing on his lips. It would be so easy. Their faces were inches away from each other. All she would have to do is lean forward.

“Jay…” She breathed out.

“Kie, we can’t,” He gulped, his eyes glancing between her eyes and her lips. “The rules…the others…”

“They don’t have to know.” She whispered, watching him closely, letting him make the move. And JJ contemplated it, for a solid few seconds before he wasted no time in leaning forwards and kissing Kiara as he so desperately had been wanting to.

That was how JJ and Kiara’s secret rendezvousing began. They never told Pope and John B, scared what their friends would say about the clear ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule. So they snuck around, had their secret little moments. It was exhilarating, it was their dirty little secret.

But just as Kiara had worried, things changed when summer ended.

A week before the return of school, her parents had dropped the bomb on her that she wouldn’t be attending Kildare County High School like the boys, but instead the prestigious academy that most of the kook children attended. She was furious and angry and she felt utterly betrayed that they had kept this from her for so long. So, Kiara found herself running into the arms of the person she needed most in that moment.

“I can’t believe they didn’t tell me!” She cried, arms wrapped around JJ’s waist as he rubbed comforting circles on her back.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Kie.” He muttered, sighing a little when her head snapped up.

“I’m going to be in a totally different school, Jay! It’s a pretty big deal to me!”

But he simply shook his head, gently bringing his hands to cup her face. “No, it’s not. Because you being at some stupid kook academy won’t change the fact you’re one of us, you’re a pogue.”

She sighed. “But—”

“No, Kie.” He said firmly. “I’ll always be here for you, remember? And we can get through this.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

And for a while, everything was okay. Against her parents’ wishes, Kiara found way to hang out with the pogues despite her demanding timetable. She always found space for them in the weekends. As for JJ, Kie would find herself missing Wednesday gym classes to go meet up with the blond. They would cherish these moments together, enjoy the crappy little picnics they would have in more private areas of the beach and take the HMS Pogue out whenever they needed to get away. It was perfect, she was living the best of both worlds.

Then Sarah Cameron happened.

It was subtle at first. Kiara would just rain-check a few of their general pogue hangouts. It was no big deal though, she had to somehow fit in the kook academy. Then, eventually she stopped showing up altogether. But her parents had made her take a bunch of extracurriculars. The boys didn’t think anything of it. But then they saw Kie all buddy-buddy with Sarah Cameron and her wee posse on an insta story one night and the truth hit them. They were losing their best friend.

JJ was in denial though. Kie was still showing up to most of their dates, and when she did she seemed like her usual self. He continued to live in ignorant bliss, especially as their six-month anniversary came up. To anyone else, it probably seemed stupid. But for JJ, it meant everything. Six months with his best friend, with the girl he loved, with someone he trusted blindly. And it just so happened to fall on a Wednesday. It was perfect.

He had everything set up. He borrowed the boat, he splurged a little with some of the money he saved from the tips he got the last few months and actually bought—not steal—a gift for her. A small necklace with the letter ‘J’ engraved into a small heart that was hanging from the chain. He even managed to convince Heyward to give him a bottle of champagne (with help from Yvonne who was a bit of a sap for the young love prospect). The point was that JJ had everything ready.

All that was left was for Kie to show up. So, he waited. And he waited. And he waited and waited and waited.

It must’ve been three hours later when JJ finally realised that after the lack of response from her calls and texts, she wasn’t coming. His heart was pounding, thinking of the possibility that something could’ve happened to her.

What if she got into a car accident? What if her parents had found out about her skiving class? What if she had been kidnapped or—

And then he saw it. That damn insta story on Rafe Cameron’s account, showing a perfectly fine Kie partying with some other kook girls. She forgot. She stood him up.

In a fit of anger, JJ clenched the chain in his hand, letting out a scream of frustration. The next thing he knew he was pulling his arm back, hand loose around the chain before he saw it fly through the sky and land in the sea with an unsatisfying plop. And for a second, JJ felt like he was drowning with that damn necklace.

It wasn’t until the next day when Kie realised she had missed her date night with JJ. She let out a small curse, head pounding as she reached for her phone and clicked on his contact name.

Kie: hey, sorry about last night, I wasn’t feeling well. make it up to you tonight?

JJ: can’t. working.

Kie: you don’t work on Thursdays tho?

JJ: I do now.

Kie: are you okay?

JJ: why wouldn’t I be?

Kie: idk you just seem weird

JJ: K.

Kie: K?

She frowned a little when the little ‘read’ notification came up but he never replied. After taking some painkillers for her head, she found herself in the car, driving to the Chateau where she noticed was empty except JJ’s motorbike outside. Without a second thought, she headed inside, finding JJ drinking away on the couch.

“So, this is working?” Kie asked, her nose scrunched slightly at the strong smell of alcohol in the room.

“Fuck off.” He slurred out, not even bothering to look at her.

“Who shoved a stick up your ass?” She scoffed, swooping down to grab the beer from his hand before he could take another sip. “Oh my god, JJ, how many have you had?” She muttered when she noticed the empty bottles around him.

“Like you care!” He laughed out bitterly, leaning back as he finally glanced up at her for the first time. “Shouldn’t you be with your little kook friends?” He snipped.

She froze, lips pressing together. “JJ, I can explain—”

“Oh, can you now?!” He exclaimed, pushing himself to stand up. He stumbled a little but he caught himself on the edge of the couch. “Please, Kiara, please tell me what bullshit excuse you have for missing our anniversary for some fucking stuck up assholes—”

“What?” She whispered.

He looked at her, eyebrows slightly furrowed before he let out a scoff. “Of course, what else was I expecting? I can’t believe you didn’t remember. Or better yet, I can’t believe I thought you’d remember!”

Her words got caught up in her throat. This was far worse than she thought. “JJ, I am so—”

“What? Sorry? What’s the fucking point, Kie? You’ve already broken my heart!” His words were slurred and messy, but they were honest.

“You’re being a little dramatic, Jay. You’re drunk—” She tried once again but that only seemed to anger him further.

“NO, KIE!” He snapped. “You…You don’t get to act like you aren’t the one that fucked up here, aright? I fucking loved you! I poured my heart out to you! I opened up to you! I even fucking used my tips on you!” He yelled, tears welling up in his eyes as he spoke. “But you have been nothing but a bitch.”

Kie had felt like she had been slapped. Loved. Past tense. “A bitch?”

“Just like your little fucking kook friends! The lot of you are a bunch of bastards that just laugh and mock people like me, don’t you? C’mon, Kie, tell me. Did you make fun of me to your new friends? Tell them about the poor fucker you’ve been stringing along like some lovesick puppy, huh?”

“You know I would never do that!” She argued back.

“No, I don’t! I don’t, Kiara, because I don’t even fucking know who you are anymore!” He countered, chest heaving. “And truthfully, I don’t want to know you anymore. Whoever you are, you aren’t Kie. Not my Kie.”

She felt the tears burning in her eyes, felt her heart pounding in her chest. But most of all, she felt her blood boiling. He didn’t know. He didn’t know how hard it was to finally fit in with the kooks, after months of dealing with their bullying and teasing. She was finally finding a place there. He didn’t get it. He would never get it.

“I never was your Kie.” She stated simply, her voice void of any emotion.

“Great. Perfect.” He replied. They both stared at each other for a while, no one saying anything. “You’ve changed. You’re not a pogue, not now.”

“Change can be good sometimes.” Kie countered as though his words didn’t shatter her heart.

“Just…go. Go be with Rafe Cameron and act like one of his little lackeys.” He scoffed. “Not like any of us want you here anyways.”

“Fine.”

“I’m going.”

“Go then.”

But Kie couldn’t find it within herself to actually move.

“Can you just leave me alone?” He eventually yelled out, fists clenched at his side. “Just fucking go! Be with them!”

That seemed to snap her out of whatever frozen state she was in and Kiara quickly turned, tears pouring down her face as she reached for the door handle.

“I hope they were worth it, Kiara. I hope they were worth losing us.”

She pressed her lips, taking a few seconds to compose herself as she wiped away a few tears. Then she spoke up, let her words be her goodbye, because deep down Kie knew that this was it. She had lost her pogues. She had lost her JJ. And she would never get them back.

“They are.”

Then, she left, never once looking back, not even when she heard the sound of a scream and glass smashing, not even when every atom in her body wanted to run back into his arms.

She never looked back.

#jiara #outer banks #obx #jiara prompts #writing prompts #my writing

18 notes · View notes

hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.10

a/n: so this was supposedly a one-shot but i realized it was too long so it eventually led to an ongoing full on fic xD thank you all so much for spending the time to read this! :) have a bit of action in this chapter :’) this a long chapter so...

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @awings @simpformiya @sayakaaaaaa @colorseeingchick @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 11

“Shall we?” Offering his arm, you gladly accepted it. This time, he couldn’t help the small content smile on his face when you fully held on to him. When the both of you were out of the gym, Bokuto had already turned around the corner leaving you two alone. “So, let me get this straight. You’re not from here, you have powers, and I somehow give you energy?”

“More or less.” Your other hand began to play with his fingers. “But it never goes past 35%.”

“How does it feel? To be stuck at that level? Is it frustrating for you?” He caught your fingers and intertwined them in his.

“Ooh~ You’re a curious one.” By now your knees were weak from being able to hold his hand. “At first, I was scared. Having to assess the situation is always tricky. When I realized that no one here has a quirk, I guess it was safe to assume that nothing could go wrong. It doesn’t necessarily suck. Being here for almost 3 months now, I actually like having not to rely on my quirk.”

“Do you ever think about what’s happening in your, uhh, dimension?”

“I do, every now and then.” For a second, you debated on telling him about being able to feel Todoroki’s warmth on your hands. “But, compared to my dimension, your world is a paradise.”

“What was UA, then?”

“It was the top school in Japan for producing great heroes.”

“Heroes?”

“Yeah.” God it felt so good to talk about home. Leaning your head on his arm, you continued. “I wanted to become a hero. Took the exam, passed, and got placed on the hero course. It sounds weird, I know, but it's pretty common there.”

“Your world sounds like a manga.” He stopped walking and faced you. Seeing you in a new light made him feel as if that tug he kept feeling had its purpose.

The moment he met you, Akaashi couldn’t help but want to get to know you more. When you took up the offer to be manager, it was the perfect opportunity. During the first day, he had managed to show off a bit by saving you from that particular chance ball. He could still remember the way you kept his eyes on him for longer periods of time.

He did feel that something was off. The bike-firecracker incident never made sense to him. Now that you told him, things just made sense now. But, with the knowledge that you liked him back, would it be unethical or selfish that he wished you would prefer to stay here?

“It’s not selfish, Akaashi.” His eyes widened. “No, I don’t read minds. It was just obvious because I’ve been thinking about the same thing too.”

The sounds of chattering and the aroma of the barbeque was much nearer now. Letting go of his arm, you made him enter the area first and trailed behind him. Walking back to your spot, you were met with empty plates and immediately assumed that Bokuto ate both your shares. Not minding it too much, Akaashi and you went with the team and ate there.

Hours had passed and the sun was now setting. Each team was now saying farewell to the others. Watching them board the bus, all of you were now waving the Karasuno crows goodbye. The next time you would see them would be in a few months. Not long after, the Fukurodani team was now lining up to enter the bus.

Taking the same seat, you stuffed your bag beneath you and wondered who would take the vacant seat. Bokuto had now entered the bus and he beamed when he saw the vacancy, before he could even sit…

“Bokuto-san.” Akaashi spoke with a deadly unemotional tone. “Washio-san has something he wants to tell you.”

Tossing his bag to the seat beside you, Akaashi had to smirk at the face his friend gave him. Pouty face and deflated hair when Washio denied the allegations about him. Crossing his arms to his chest, Bokuto had to nod and cheer for his friend. This would have to be the first time for him to actually see such a range of emotion from him. Though, if he were to be honest, Bokuto was going to give the seat to Akaashi.

“You don’t feel sorry for Washio-san?” You teased your seatmate.

“Bokuto-san falls asleep every time we head back to school.” Especially when he sits beside their # 2 player. “I can switch seats with him if you want.”

Holding his shirt, you looked down and avoided eye contact. Your palms glowed a bit and he covered the glow with his hands, bringing them to his thighs. Brushing his thumb on your skin, you relaxed and huffed at his little prank.

The scenery was now changing as the travel back home began. Feeling drowsy, Akaashi offered his shoulder with red cheeks. Not long after, your breathing slowed down and evened. He stared at your sleeping form and rested his head on yours. The rest of the team were now sleeping so a little PDA was safe.

Noticing how your palms would occasionally glow faintly, he made sure to cover them before allowing himself the privilege to fall asleep.

Around 30 minutes before the bus would reach the school, Akaashi woke up. With your head nuzzling his neck and your palms faintly glowing, he was sure he could have a stroke with the amount of blood rushing through his cheeks. Glancing at the view, it wouldn’t be long before the bus would arrive.

Slowly checking if the others were still sleeping, he took a look at your palms. There were a million questions running through his brain. How old were you when you found out about your quirk? What was life like with having quirks? When you stated you went to a school that nurtured heroes, does that mean the diversity of quirks were so wide and varied? Was this ‘Shoto’ one of your friends from your side of the dimension?

With the sun now low in the orange and red sky, he covered your hands once more. Just in time for you to stir and wake up. Stretching a bit, he saw how the glow began to disappear.

“Sleep well?”

“You make a great pillow.” It was true though.

“The coach will be gathering us for a short meeting later.” He explained. “Do you want to have dinner?”

“In the same cafe?” Not bothering to fight the smile, you felt your palms heating up. Taking them away from his, you hid them underneath your thighs. Your face and the tips of your ears red. “Sorry. That happens when I can’t control my feelings.”

“Yes. In the same cafe.” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of you being flustered and your quirk showing it.

Moments later, all of you were now seated on the gym floors. The small announcement the coach gave was nothing too important. He merely stated that the incoming practices will be a little longer and a bit more straining for the players. Everyone nodded and took note of the days with no practices. Next thing you knew, you were now saying goodbye to the others and walking down the streets with Akaashi.

“Can I hold your hand?” He needed to make sure you were on the same page. There was no answer. You simply held his hand and laced your fingers with his. Seeing you giddy always made him happy.

“I bet you have a lot of questions. Go ahead and ask.”

“What’s your world like?”

“Just like this except we had bad guys almost everywhere. One of the worst one’s sounds like Tsukki, by the way.”

“Oh. That’s why.” He did not expect you to cling on to him when you met the tall middle blocker of Karasuno. The way your tightness and slight trembling of your shoulders made him wonder if you had any kind of trauma. He was wrong, but not really. “Have you fought big time bad guys?”

“Once… No twice. No wait, three times!” There were just too many instances by now. “The worst would have to be the one where we tried to save a little girl from her guardian. I didn’t fight the big boss but I did fight one of his henchmen. It was troublesome and I got badly injured.”

Opening the doors to the cafe, the two of you ordered your respective dishes and sat in the same booth. This time, you sat beside each other. Akaashi’s hand still laced with yours.

“Why did you want to be a hero?”

“That’s what everybody, or at least a big majority, wanted to be.” He noticed how your stare became distant. “My quirk is pretty high up there and my parents were proud. Everyone told me and even I began to think that things would be a walk in the park.”

“What’s your quirk at 100%?” He just had to ask.

“Well…” You never used your quirk at 100%. “I’ve never used it to that percentage. I usually use it until 80%. But, the thing with me is that if my quirk is below 40%, I can only do basic things. If it’s changing properties, then I can do plants. If it’s at 80% then you can expect to see me breaking huge chunks of cement or lifting boulders 50 times my weight. It’s draining but we train everyday.”

“That’s a lot of information to swallow.” He admitted. The laugh you gave him was reassuring enough. “Why did you tell me?”

“I never intended on telling you today. I envisioned myself saving a cat or safely pushing an old lady away from danger.” Facepalming, you cringed at how you exposed yourself. Akaashi understood that his little flaunting act was the main cause why you two were now holding hands in a small booth waiting for your food.

“So, Ushiwaka being your ex?”

You laughed. A loud one.

“I have never met that person in my life!” Shaking your head with amusement, you explained how you had to search his nearly empty social media accounts. Or the shock you experienced when you found out about him.

“You hold no memories here? Not even random childhood memories from your mom?”

“The only memories I have are from my dimension. It’s creepy looking at pictures of your younger self and having zero recollection. I got used to seeing it though. Every now and then I get tidbits of information as to who I was here. But it just stops at the present.”

“You’re very brave.” He couldn’t imagine the mental stress you were going through. “You really are meant to be a hero.”

“Frankly speaking, being a hero might sound cool and all but it…” Without realizing, you squeezed his hand. Chewing on your lower lip, you let out a shaky exhale. “It’s petrifying. Having villains infiltrate your school activities, defending the weak, and having to face the uncertainty of making it out alive takes a toll on you.”

“I’m sorry. I touched a sensitive topic.”

“Is it sad to say that’s not even a sensitive topic?” You leaned onto his shoulder. “I’ve fought with my life on the line twice. The other one got me staying in the hospital for 2 weeks.”

“Well,” He raised your head, index and thumb softly holding your chin. His gunmetal eyes met your (e/c). “I may not have powers or a quirk, but I will try my best to become a hero to you.”

“Akaashi…”

Your eyes began to cloud and lower lip to quiver. Hearing such simple words may sound cheesy to regular people in his dimension, but as someone who came from an environment where you were trained to put others first, it was enough to let you blink a waterfall of tears. Each mental strain you had undergone, from the USJ Attack, the LoV infiltrating your training camp, and even having to help Fatgum and Kiri with the eight precepts manifested.

Letting go of your hand, he pulled you into his arms. It made him think what exactly did you go through to make you react to those words. He meant them with all his being, of course, but the impact left him speechless. Maybe life in hero centered mangas weren’t as great as he thought.

Right on time, when you calmed down, the food arrived.

When the both of you were now standing outside your houses, you took your phone and checked the time. Avoiding eye contact, you scratched your nape.

“It’s still relatively early,” You were being bold and that amazed you. “Do you wanna drop by my house and chill? BUT NOT IN THAT WAY, OKAY! Just like, you know, get to know each other more or some shit.”

Taking the lead, Akaashi dragged your red face all the way to your door. Opening the entryway for you, you stepped in with your mother yelling from the kitchen. Announcing that Akaashi was here and that the two of you would stay in your room, you heard some teasing. Going up the stairs, your o-mother yelled your name.

“(y/n)!”

“Mom?”

“...Use protection!”

“WHAT THE HECK?! MOM!”

You half expected she would add more salt to the burn but that was least expected. Leading the red faced Akaashi to your room, he was surprised to see it very empty and barely any mementos. You weren’t kidding when you said you had no memories until the day you arrived here. Telling him to put his bag on your bed, he complied and soon helped in getting some pillows from the storage room. Seconds later, both of you were now sitting on the floor.

“What was your childhood like, Akaashi?”

“Normal for my dimension’s standards.” He reached for your hands and admired how you activated the yellow glow. “Aside from volleyball, I also liked reading. No particular genre, anything that catches my eye.”

“Do you plan to go pro?”

“Not quite.” He truthfully answered. “Volleyball is my life but I would like to take up literature one day.”

“What made you choose Fukurodani?”

“I was sent a recommendation letter. I had the option to choose between 2 schools but I chose this one.”

“Why choose this school?”

“I saw Bokuto-san playing and I was just so mesmerized at how much he loved the sport. I had no idea just how much of a handful he was but I don’t mind. Bokuto-san is who he is.” His eyes followed the small glowing orbs you had formed again. With the privacy surrounding you two, the orbs were much brighter and bigger. “What was your childhood like?”

“A rollercoaster ride.” Focusing a bit on your quirk, you morphed the orbs into one. Slowly the balls began to mold into an owl. Akaashi’s eyes sparkled at the sight before him. “When my quirk fully manifested, my parents boasted me around. It caught the attention of some big pro hero. Next thing I knew, my parents signed some papers and I was meeting up with his kid.”

“I don’t quite understand, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” The owl landed on Akaashi’s head and a few feathers of light began to float in front of him. “In my world, we have this thing called quirk-marriages. It’s exactly like an arranged marriage except it involves the person’s quirk.”

“Y-you’re engaged?” The look of horror in his eyes was clear.

“Was.” You saw his shoulders relax. “The guy I was supposed to marry was Todoroki Shoto, not that the name even matters here, and the engagement got called off two years ago. Both of us were glad his dad had an epiphany. He was sweet and all but I never saw him in that way.”

“What was his quirk?”

“Todoroki was a special one. He was the result of a quirk marriage. He has two.” Akaashi’s eyebrows jumped at the thought of having two kinds of quirks. One was enough but two? “We teased him ‘half and half’ since his quirk is fire and ice.”

“Wow. He balances himself.”

“He really does~ Even his hair is balanced. Half white and half red.”

“Huh, this world really is bland compared to yours.”

“On the contrary, it’s not.”

“I highly doubt that, (l/n). Everyday is like an unknown chapter waiting to present itself. The prospect of living or dying high, but I’m pretty sure all of you find it to be worth the hassle.”

“There’s that but there’s also you.” It was your turn to see him with his eyes wide open. It felt so fluffy to see the prettiest setter staring at your palms and trying his best to control the blood rushing on his cheeks. “I know you’ve only met me for less than 3 months, but I can say that you’ve given me comfort in ways you can’t fathom.”

Feeling his chest swelling, he pulled you back into his arms. His soft hair tickling your cheek as you relaxed into his arms. Your warmth was comforting as he buried himself in your hair.

“Do you wanna see me use it on that plant?” You offered. Voice a little muffled from inhaling his godly scent. “You’ve been touching me a lot so I might have a bit more juice-- gods that sounds wrong but you get the point.”

“If you insist.”

Slowly unwrapping his arms, you pouted at the sensation of wanting to just stay still and hug him back. Caressing your cheek, Akaashi smiled a bit. Taking in sharp breath, you could feel your heart rate rising again. Screw it. There was no way you were going to ruin the moment.

Stretching your hand, your palm glowed the brightest it's ever been since you arrived in this dimension. Following the tugging sensation, you began to manipulate the air around the houseplant. Akaashi did a double take when he realized what you were doing. Watching the area around the plant distort, it only took a second before the small pot was now floating above your palm.

Placing the little pot in between you two, your mind was blank and you were not sure what to change it into. You could go bold and flashy by changing it completely into a new plant or just turn it back into a desert rose.

“What flowers do you like looking at, Akaashi?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Do you like roses?”

“I don’t see a reason not to.”

Nodding your head, you were now using both your hands. The Hoya plant now began to hover along with the soil. With each curl of your finger, the plant began to morph into something else. The floating orbs were nowhere to be seen. In the blink of an eye, Akaashi let out a small ‘oh’ once a single stem of a rose now replaced the bushy succulent from before.

The rose was not fully opened yet. Placing everything back into the pot, you were now using just one hand. Pointing your finger at the closed bud, you traced imaginary circles with your index and the man in front of you watched it bloom in front of his eyes.

“W-why aren’t there any floating lights?” He had to wonder.

“I like to be flashy sometimes~” You smirked. “I can make them but for small magical stuff like these, it’s all up to me if I want them or skip ‘em.”

“You just changed the entire composition of the succulent.” His finger touching the soft petal. “Are you tired?”

“Just a bit. My body gets used to it pretty quickly. This used to be a desert rose but I changed it into the Hoya plant last week. So by now, it’s not too tiring.”

“Your quirk is amazing.” Akaashi praised you. His hand found your cheek again. Leaning to his touch, you concluded that he was even more addictive than you thought. In small and delicate movements, his thumb brushed your pink tainted cheeks. “You must’ve been very strong.”

“I tend to hold back when I use my quirk.” You looked down. “My quirk isn’t that strong because of that.”

“Why hold back something so beautiful?”

“It can be destructive just like all the other quirks.” Patting your lap, the owl you made rested on the spot you touched. “If I’m in a neutral or content state, its glow is yellow or what I want it to be. But once my negative emotions come out, it tends to turn into either red or black.”

“How was it when you first came here?”

“It was yellow. Faint but yellow.” Shifting the colors of the owl, Akaashi took note of how faint the glow was when you first arrived. The glow was barely there from what he could tell. When it shifted to red, the soft edges were now replaced with torn and jagged lines. The cuteness of the owl faded away into a more feral and hungry looking bird. Snapping your finger, the creature disappeared. “You’re not weirded out?”

“I am.” Akaashi stared blindly into space. “It’s a lot to digest. A part of me thinks this is all a dream but I know it’s not.”

“It is information overload.” For a moment, you wanted to crawl into his lap and nuzzle on to his neck. Instead, you scratched your cheek and returned the plant to its original spot. “If I were to be honest, I’m not sure if telling you was the right thing to do. I would rather have you be ignorant than to be mixed into the chaos of my world.”

“You wanted to be a hero, right?” Noticing how you were chewing your inner cheek, he had to wonder. What other secrets were you keeping? “Then there’s no reason for me not to trust you. You may not be from here but you're a main protagonist in my personal world.”

“God. Even in times like this you’re so beautiful.” You uttered under your breath.

Stretching his arms out, you saw his smile once more. Giving a nod, he gestures for you to come closer and sit on his lap. With a fast beating heart, he adjusted his position to make you more comfortable. Once the both of you were good, he tucked a loose strand of hair. His mesmerizing eyes solely focused on you.

“Let’s be each other's hero, (l/n)?”

“You know,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Heroes aren’t supposed to leave debts.”

“I believe I don’t owe anybody.” Once again his large hand caressed your cheek. His thumb lightly brushing your lower lip. Pulling you in inch by inch, his eyes landed on your lips and back to your eyes. “Are you always this alluring?”

“Eh. Depends on whose lap I’m sitting on.”

Closing the gap together, your lips met his soft one’s. This was nothing compared to your first kiss. The way his lips molded with yours made each butterfly in your belly to flutter. Feeling him snaking his arms around your waist, you gladly pulled him in closer and hugged him tighter. By now, you were sure that Akaashi could feel your rapidly beating heart.

Feeling his tongue running along your lower lip, you happily gave him entrance. It was a rather sloppy and messy kiss from this point on. Shifting your position, you now straddled him and tangled your fingers through his hair.

As of the moment, the only thing in both your minds was the feeling of your lips and tongue dancing with each other. If this was a dream, then you would be too scared to wake up. In all the days of being in this dimension, it was only now you felt that you were truly safe and belonged.

Being human, the both of you broke the kiss at the same time. Panting and catching both your breaths.

Noticing your room was a bit brighter than before, the both of you stared at the small firefly like orbs that danced around the both of you. Hiding your face on his shoulder, Akaashi chuckled and wrapped his arms around you once more.

- - - - -

a/n: hope ya’ll like that smol kissing scene XD and yes Akaashi is still accepting in his lineup! :)

#akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi #akaashi keiji #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu akaashi

52 notes · View notes