#Decorative Butterfly Fridge Magnets | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonchildstyles · 1 year ago

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sin

y/n is an angel and harry is a demon whos taught her how much fun it can be to sin

wordcount: 7.8k+

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The first time (Y/N) floated down from the clouds, she had no idea what a Pocket was, let alone where to find one. That time felt so long ago with the way she could now navigate herself to her favorite Pocket without a second thought. The route had become one of familiarity, guiding butterflies flitting through her stomach the closer she made it with every step.

Slipping out of sight of the main street, she counted thirteen paces down the quiet alleyway before finding the brick that needed just the right touch before it would show off the hidden doorway she needed. The brick was grainy and rough under her palm, her skin catching on the mortar as she pushed against it until it finally gave away underneath. Just like that, the seemingly solid wall opened up, revealing an entryway for her eyes only.

(Y/N) felt giddy as she stepped inside, the doorway vanishing behind her when she crossed the threshold. She knew it was secure once more when there was a breeze that skated over her skin and fluffed through her wings, seemingly sealing her away from the rest of the world. In a way, it was, but there was still a waiting invitation to the one other person who knew about this Pocket—the one that had shown her the way in the first place.

Getting comfortable while she waited, (Y/N) was happy to see the place was untouched from her last visit. When she had first seen this Pocket, it was the closest thing she had ever seen to an interdimensional "bachelor pad". There hadn't been much of anything to see that first time, only the bones of someone’s presence though they were too busy to return much. She remembered it had felt stale as if it had been abandoned for years despite the unmade bed in the corner with messy sheets and tufted comforter.

Harry had told her it was a place he barely used—it was one of the first Pockets he conjured on his own, and he'd since honed the craft into bringing something more extravagant to life. He still visited just to keep the curse fresh, but he otherwise only stayed there if it was necessary and no other options were available.

His last resort had since become their hideaway. Special for just the two of them; another secret for them to share with one another.

It had come a long way from when she had first visited with Harry on her tail, leaving behind the less than ideal bed set up, and vacant walls. (Y/N) had used all of her inspiration from seeing countless humans decorate their homes, turning the dreary Pocket into a cozy getaway. Heaven didn't necessarily allow for a lot of individualism when it came to living spaces, seeing as how everything was ordained to be pristine and creamy. Here, (Y/N) got to use as much color as she wanted—as long as it didn't spur any headaches for Harry, anyway.

Now, there was an actual bed frame holding up a cushy mattress, the pillows feather soft and always cool to the touch. The bedding was a warm orangey color, playing off of the greens and pinks throughout the space. There were pictures—canvases full of paint Harry said he "found" through his travels—pinned to the walls, playing into the bright hues (Y/N) was toying with. A rug now sat in the middle of the room in the shape of a paint blob in a creamy green shade that made her think of Harry's eyes. The kitchen—though near unnecessary given their statuses—was given the same treatment as the rest of the studio-sized space. There were magnets covering the unused fridge, appliances and bowls of always fresh fruit sitting on the counter. A bouquet of flowers that never died were sitting on the bedside table, perfuming the air with a light fragrance that drew her in. Her favorite part was the mirror by the bed, ornate and carved with cherubs.

Walking in felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as she loved being an angel—guiding humans in need, taking care of those who needed her touch, changing lives for the better—being here in this Pocket was the one thing she could see herself loving more.

It would be a little bit better if she wasn't alone, though.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, fluffy wings tucked against her back, she fixed her eyes on the doorless portal, waiting for the telltale creek and scrape of concrete that would signal Harry's arrival. This was the bad part of being chronically early, she thought, never being sure when the other would show up and keep her from being lonely.

Lucky for her, it was only another handful of minutes before her ears picked up on the familiar sound of footsteps trailing over the pavement. Her breath caught when they stopped just outside where the Pocket's door was, a smile unfurling on her features when that first creek sounded through the room. She rose to her feet just in time to see the first uniform crack in the wall before the rest of the doorway came to be.

Slipping inside, Harry didn't wait for the portal to shut behind him before he was crossing the room to meet her.

"(Y/N)," he sighed, his grin toothy and completely with dimples, "Sorry I took so long."

Wrapping his arms around her, (Y/N) melted into his embrace. His hands settled just below her fluffy wings, holding her close while she rested her cheek on his chest.

"It's okay," she murmured, eyes fluttering to a close as she soaked in his warmth, "I'm happy you're here."

Harry's response came in the form of a small kiss being dropped on the top of her head, the contact decidedly delicate as opposed to his nature. He'd told her before that she was the only one that could draw that side of him out—the docile side that had no alignment with chaos or sabotage. This side of him was just for her, he'd shared.

Shifting his hands on her, his fingertips brushing her wings with a shudder shooting down (Y/N)'s spine, Harry repositioned until he had his hands cradling her cheeks as he tipped her head up to face him. His dark eyes shimmered green, taking in each of her features as if it were the first time again.

"I've missed you," he crooned, "So much, darling. What have you been up to since the last time I saw you?"

Despite there being no way for anyone, mortal or otherwise to overhear them, every word he spoke to her was uttered like a secret. Just for her.

"I missed you," she smiled, unlooping her own arms to settle with her hands on his chest, "But, I've been okay. Just doing angel stuff."

His lips quirked into a lopsided curve, his thumb brushing along the height of her cheekbone. "Always angel stuff with you. No breaks."

"No breaks," she played along as if she wasn't currently in the middle of a break with him right now, where not even her creator could spot her if she tried, "What about you?"

"Just the opposite of angel stuff," he teased, managing to bring a smile to her face despite knowing the reality of his joke. He had a certain way of putting it, describing his job, that made it not sound so bad when it came to (Y/N)'s sensibilities. (Truthfully, it could be because she just liked his voice. He could make anything sound heavenly).

"Fun?" she smiled, letting him walk her back towards the bed.

"Always," he hummed, escorting her backwards until her legs hit the edge.

Tumbling back, a bubbling laugh left (Y/N)'s lips as she clung to Harry. He fell atop her, her thighs splitting to settle him between. Underneath, the mattress conformed to the shape of her wings, Harry's hands pressing into the planes of her back as if she wasn't close enough as is.

Before the world had a chance to settle around her, Harry tipped his chin and pressed his lips to hers. Though she didn't have much to compare it to, (Y/N) had little doubt that there could ever be a better kisser out there than Harry. Her point was proven every time he sealed his mouth to hers, her top lip cradled between his two.

This was never going to get old, she knew. Not with the bubbling that ignited under her skin at the contact, the way there was nothing more she wanted than to cling to him and bask in his warmth. With every angling and tipping of their heads, movements made in tandem, she was drawn deeper and deeper in everything that was him. Tucked underneath him like this, mouth coming together and parting with soft breaths between, it was hard to think that the universe had crafted them to be enemies.

Tracing his mouth down from hers, dotting a line over her jaw, Harry murmured in her ear, "I don't have much time, darling."

"No?" she asked, a pout evident in just the single syllable, "Why not?"

Harry drew back only to give her an apologetic smile. "Opposite of angel stuff, remember?"

"Since when does that have a schedule?" She sounded petulant even to her own ears, but if there was one sin she was willing to commit, it was greed when it came to Harry.

"Since I told Sarah I would meet up with her soon," Harry offered the challenge with a raised brow. Sarah wasn't like the others of his kind, she was more stubborn and would actually go looking for him if he stood her up, if only to wreak havoc for him personally as revenge.

"To do not-angel stuff that I'll have to clean up later?" she pressed, feeling her attitude leak away now that she knew her time was limited with him.

His smile was brilliant at her words, wide with bracketing dimples. "Of course. That's why we work so well, darling."

It was that kind of language, the sweet one that made even demon activities sound silly, that had her splitting into a smile before tipping her chin in hopes of coaxing him into a kiss. It didn't take much convincing for Harry's lips to press into hers, resuming the lingering kissing he'd interrupted before.

On her back, Harry shifted his hands until he grazed the stem of her wings. The second his fingertips glanced against the base of one fluffy, tightly packed feather, a shudder wormed down her spine. Her breathing stuttered in her chest, a furrow pinching at her brow. From the way he had to keep from smiling against her mouth, she knew he was aware of the effect of his touch—undoubtedly intentional.

It was the easiest way to get her riled up, and that was exactly what he needed for their time limit.

Just as he'd surely hoped, there was a change in the pacing of their kissing. (Y/N) leaned into his touch, anticipating another lingering touch against her wings. Her hands slid over his chest, fingers denting the blocky muscles that made up his body, landing on the shelf of his shoulders. Her fingertips hooked into the solid muscle, clinging to him.

Her heartbeat stutters behind her ribs when she felt his hands shifting on her back. This time, he dared to run his fingers through the feathers, the structure underneath down was grazed by his warm touch. An involuntary moan slipped from her mouth and into his.

Instead of something smug crossing his features, Harry only kissed her harder. His mouth was hot, taking in her sudden pants from his touch.

"Harry?" she murmured, breathless against his mouth. He didn't bother drawing away from her as he hummed, the pillows of his lips dragging over hers. "Do we have enough time?"

This finally had his lips quirking. He nodded his head gently, the tip of his nose grazing her own. "I'll make time."

When she felt his hands drift away from her wings, she wanted to complain. She wanted to whine enough for him to know she didn't like that he was moving on, but that need was quieted when she felt his palm settle on the plush of her thigh. His touch was heavy and warm, denting into the soft skin while the other hooked around her waist in a cradle.

In one fluid motion, he had her on her back with her mouth dropped open in a gasp. Instinctively, she had tightened her grip on him, her legs wrapping around his waist during the roll. By the time Harry was underneath her, her surprise had morphed into laughter, her chest pressed to his as she slumped into him.

"You scared me," she bubbled, shifting in his lap with her knees bracketing his hips.

"Sorry, darling," he murmured with a soft smile, the pitch of his pupils blown wide as he took her in.

Steadying her, he settled his hand on her hips as she planted her hands on his chest to prop herself up above him. She could feel her wings fluff out behind her, no longer confined against the mattress. Harry's eyes followed the span of her feathers, the stretch reaching just slightly wider than her shoulders. He'd told her more than once how cute he thought her wings were—he'd never seen any quite as fluffy as hers, especially compared to his own.

He looked up at her with reverence in his gaze, something adoring and smothering dancing in his irises as he watched her from below. She felt warm under his eyes, her fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt to keep herself from preening like a dove under his attention.

His adoring gaze translated into his soft hands trailing over the curve of her form, his palms warming the ladder of his ribs with his thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts. Even through her dress, his touch elicited a round of gooseflesh to prickle her skin. Her breath lagged in her lungs.

Though time hadn't ever felt like much for (Y/N), seeing as she was immortal, Harry had made her impatient. It'd been a handful of days since the last time they had snuck off to their Pocket, but those days had felt like years to her body without his touch.

The trail of his gaze almost felt tangible, warm and heavy, the longer he watched her.

"What?" she asked, feeling breathless when he ran his thumbs against the swells of her chest.

He didn't bother to pull his eyes from where they lingered on her body, especially liking the way her thighs were split around his hips under the hem of her dress. "Nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head against the pillows cushioned underneath, "Jus' haven't had y'on top in a while. I like it."

She had thought before that greed was the only sin he could inspire in her, but lust was quickly overtaking the top spot. He was right; she didn't usually get a chance to look at him like this. While she loved lying underneath him, at his mercy while he drove himself home between her legs, there was something to be said about the perspective she gained while sitting astride his lap like this.

His hair laid in soft waves against the linen of this pillows, curling towards his face as if a frame for a portrait. His lashes were long and dark, framing his eyes and drawing his prey in at a glance. There was a spray of freckles glancing off the bridge of his nose, faint against the cream of his skin. Though his eyes were dark, there were shatters of green that could be seen if one were close enough to spot the hues. His body was made of strong lines and angles, his jaw, much of the same despite the soft skin of his lips and the gentle way he admired her.

He was the perfect demon—the perfect temptation. If not for the fact she knew what was hidden away, she would have argued he was an angel like her.

"I like it, too," she told him, breathless, "I like it when you look at me like that."

"Yeah?" he prodded, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth when he finally matched her gaze. His hands on her sides drifted down until he met the hem of her dress, taking the delicate material between his fingers. "Can I see more of you then, darling? Promise I'll keep looking at you like this."

Biting back her smile, she drew her hands away from his chest to grab for the hem of her dress. Moving his own hands back, he watched as she pulled her dress over her head, wings tucked against her back with the material drifting over her feathers. The familiar butterflies that came with revealing her body in a way she had never anticipated she would in her angel life flittered through her stomach. Their fluorescent wings flew high enough to glance over the chambers of her heart, feeling just as real as the warmth of his eyes draping over her newly exposed skin. Between Harry's legs, she felt a ridge thicken, pressing into her core with every drawing breath she pulled into her lungs.

Throwing her dress to the floor, her form was left with only a dainty pair of underwear sitting on her hips and a matching bra barely covering her breasts.

Harry's dark eyes seemingly left behind the slight hue of green, instead revealing only pitch black irises that blended seamlessly into his pupils. If any more of his control slipped, the whole of his eyes would match the inky darkness—a sight (Y/N) used to fear that now had her blood pumping.

He couldn't help himself before he had his hands on her once more. His touch was adoring, lingering and warm.

"Y'planned for this didn't you?" he mused, raising a brow when he met her eyes.

"What do you mean?" she asked, canting her head with her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

"You know," he drawled, his hips shifting underneath her own with a cursory roll, "I thought y'were an angel, and here y'are dressing in lingerie to seduce a demon. How'd y'even get into heaven, hm?"

The way he spoke to her was thrilling in a way that could rival his touch; he made her feel dirty, questioning how someone like the girl in his lap could have snuck into heaven, while touching and looking at her with reverence she could only keen under.

"I thought you liked it when I did this," she countered, her lips tugging into a faux-frown.

"Oh, I do, darling. Can't you tell?"

With that, the slow roll he'd given with his hips morphed into a strong buck against her hips. The ridge she'd felt before was now a bulge, heavy and pushing. Her wings fluttered recalling the last time he had stuffed himself inside her, her legs thrown over his shoulders and tears in her eyes.

The memory had her shifting her hips against his, rolling her core over the bulge she felt in his lap. Harry's breath hitched just as a petite moan hummed from her chest. His hands on her waist tightened, fingertips denting the soft flesh.

"Do that again for me, darling," Harry murmured, his voice a low rumble as if it were a secret only to be shared with her, "Put on a pretty show for me."

Planting her hands on his abdomen, feeling the blocks of muscle underneath his shirt, she steadied herself on him as she began rolling her hips against his once more. The rough texture of his jeans could be felt through her thin panties, both his thickening cock and the seaming of his pants pressing into her clit. Her knees planted on either side of his hips were digging into the mattress, spreading that much wider the more she rocked against him to sink herself onto him that much more. Her wings fluttered behind her, her feathers fanning in a short fluff at her back.

Under her hands, Harry's stomach was tense, muscles densely bunched together. She glanced up at him to find him watching her with hooded eyes, his gaze feeling just as heavy and tangible as his hands on her waist. The sight had her grinding her hips that much harder against his cock, a shiver thrilling up her spine until a breathless moan fell from her lips.

"I could watch you all day, darling," Harry mused, his voice rumbling under her hands as much as it reached her ears, "But, we don't have that kind of time, do we?"

"No," she answered automatically, a whine to her voice as she shook her head. She didn't really feel like thinking about how quickly their time would be cut short.

His hands on her waist slid down until he reached her hips, his grip solidifying until he had her stopped in her tracks. Her fingers curled in the material of his shirt, her bottom lip sinking under the weight of her teeth.

"Get me out, darling."

Maybe it was the deep rumble of his voice, or the steadfast contact of his eyes with hers, but (Y/N) could have melted in that moment. Her lungs squeezed with her heart rattling behind her ribs. It was only when a smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth that she realized she had lingered too long admiring him.

Unfurling her hands from his top, she fumbled at the waist of his pants. Every shifting of her hips against his lap had her in a daze, making it that much harder to concentrate on following his instructions—something he was well aware of with the way he had his own pelvis rocking upwards as if he didn't know what he was doing.

Pulling down his jeans enough to expose his black briefs, (Y/N) could have breathed a sigh of relief when she was able to hook her fingers in the waist of his underwear. A spray of goosebumps touched at his skin, his cock visibly jumping when she reached for his cock.

His skin was heated, shaft thick with his head leaking by the time she had her fist wrapped around him. Shoving his briefs down enough to pull him out, (Y/N) had her attention stolen and pinned to his cock. The head was leaking and red, a pearl of precum glossing from his slit. She instinctively wrapped her hadn't around his shaft, feeling the ridge of his head under her palm and the pumping of the vining vein wrapped around. A heavy breath shuddered through his chest at the touch. (Y/N) couldn't keep her eyes off of him, lusty adrenaline sparking through her system at the thought that he was in this state because of her.

"You're so cute, darling," Harry said, breathless as he drew her out of her head.

"Huh?" she murmured, tearing her eyes away from his ruddy cock and the shallow pumps she made around his shaft.

If he'd had an answer at the ready, he'd cut himself off as he sank into the mattress with a sigh. The pristine pillow compressed under his head when he threw it back in the preludes of ecstasy.

"Jus' you," he murmured, recovering with his eyes only opening to a slit, "'S always like the first time with, isn't it? Y'always look at me like you've never seen me before—'s cute."

She felt shy all of a sudden, as if she didn't have his cock in her hand. Her wings tucked to her shoulder blades, cocooning her together as if they could shrink and hide her.

"I like you," she told him, "That's all."

"Yeah?" he pressed smugly, his cheeks beginning to flush as (Y/N) just laid her hand on him without offering the relief of her fist, "Jus' like me?"

A bashful tug had her lips curling into a small smile. "I love you."

"That's what I thought."

With that, one of his hands on her waist abandoned post only to land on the back of her neck. His palm was a cuff around the warm skin as he curled upwards and tugged her down in the same sweep. His lips met hers in a warm press, his tongue snaking out with the tip dragging along the full of her bottom lip. She didn't have to think before she was opening up for him, running her own tongue across his to get a taste.

It was (Y/N)'s turn then to get a taste of his pleasure, a moan spilling from his throat and settling on her tongue. Her hand around his cock tightened, the grip snug and clinging. The longer he played with her, his hand tight on the back of her neck as if in fear she would pull away before he was ready, the seat of her panties grew that much more wet. Her toes curled in the bedding at his sides, her free hand pawing at his chest in the lone need to feel him.

Drawing away just enough to speak, (Y/N)'s lips brushed against his own as she whispered, "I-I want to see you, Harry."

"'M here, darling," he answered her simply before attempting to dive back in for more.

"No," she practically pouted, puckering her lips for one more kiss before pleading again, "No, I want more—it's not fair if I'm the only one without my clothes on"

She could feel him smile into her mouth, his hand offering an affectionate squeeze to the back of her neck before he pulled away.

"When have I ever been fair, darling?" he prodded, giving her a raised brow as if he wasn't going to give into each and every single one of her demands.

"You are with me," she countered with a cant to her head.

Something softened in his expression then, as if she didn't have her hand wrapped around his cock. "I suppose I am, aren't I?"

Peeling his shirt off, the material becoming a black puddle on the bed behind her to reveal the tan skin and inked marks covering his musculature.

(Y/N) had heard time and time again throughout her existence how demons could never be trusted, that they were a creation that an angel like her shouldn't taint themselves by even breathing next to. She had been told they were slimy skinned, rows of teeth stuffed in their mouths, with eyes that could pull you straight to hell if you looked into them long enough.

Looking at Harry the way he was now beneath her, she could see why her ancestors would craft such tales; if she had known there were creatures out there that looked the way Harry did, she would have tried to find him the first time she floated from the clouds.

She couldn't help the way her hands drifted up his chest. Her fingers skimmed over his chest, dancing over the butterfly inked on his stomach and he birds up high by his collarbones. There was a flight layer of goosebumps that rose in her wake.

A breathy laugh that fell from his lips brought her attention back to the surface, pulling her gaze to flick up and match his. Amusement floated in his irises, a slight smile on his raspberry lips.

"You're cute," he told her simply.

"I'm not trying to be cute," she answered, a stubborn set to her jaw.

That only seemed to amuse him more, a dimple now denting his cheek as his smile grew. "Right," he drawled, "As much as I love letting y'touch all over me, I don't think we have enough time left for y'to have too much fun."

The reminder was enough to have her mouth fixing into a pout. That wasn't what she wanted to hear.

"Oh, yeah," she answered sullenly, stilling her hands on his shoulders with her body leant over his.

"I know," he said, craning his neck to press a small kiss to the corner of her mouth in a lingerie draw, "Next time we're here, we'll spend all night together. I promise."

A dreamy sigh fanned from her lungs at the thought, her eyes falling closed. It'd been a while since they had been able to spend a whole night in the Pocket together—the last time had left her in love and flying wonky the next day.

She could hear the smile in his voice when he pressed, "Sound good, darling?"

"Mhm," she hummed, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, "I want that now."

"I know y'do," he murmured, "You'll jus' have to settle for me fucking y'fast, then."

He said it like it was a punishment, as if her heart wasn't in her throat with adrenaline when he flipped her over once more. She was flat on her back, wings cushioned against the mattress when he sunk in between her spread thighs once more. Now, she could feel the weight of the muscles she had grazed her hands over, the width of his form she had been grinding against.

The movement had stolen her breath, leaving her chest heaving as he looked down at her. The intensity was back once more, keeping his irises dark as he glazed his eyes over each and every line of her body. He lingered on the line of her bra, surely pinpointing where her rattling heart was scheduled by her ribs.

"What do y'need from me, darling?" Harry mumbled, the blunt of his nails grazing the soft skin of her stomach as he dragged his hands towards the waist of her panties.

Speaking through her shudder, she shook her head, "No-Nothing—I want you."

Harry looked entirely too smug, the curl on his lips one she recognized even as far back as the first time they met. Back then, she couldn't stand the sight—unsure of how a demon could be proud of anything they did. Now, it was one of her favorite things, knowing she had made him feel proud of himself (at least she liked to think of it that way).

"Y'can have me, darling," he assured her, one of his hands dripping from the waist of her underwear and down between her legs, "But, are y'wet enough for me, or do y'need some help?"

His thumb grazed her clit, her body jumping at the slight touch. She could feel her insides pulsing, grasping for something that wasn't there yet.

"I-I don't need help," she stuttered, pushing her hips against his hand in impatience, "Harry, please. I don't want you to leave before we're done."

A pinch appeared between his brows then as he hooked his fingers into the gusset of her underwear, pulling the material to the side. "I would never leave y'like that, you know that. I'll always take care of m'angel."

As if to prove his point, she watched as he fisted his cock and ran the head along her folds. The air had been seemingly sucked out of the room at that moment, leaving her with a shuddering breath leaving her lungs and eyes fighting to close. She could feel his heavy gaze watching her as he nudged his cock against her pulsing opening, a small tease before he pulled back to slide through her folds once more.

"Y'sure you're ready for me?" he teased, drawing out his words for just a second longer of the torture.

"Harry, please," she told him, sounding a bit pathetic to her own ears though there was no guilt in the act. "I need you."

He loved it when she pleaded with him like that. On longer nights, he would have pressed for more, taken any and every bit of begging she could offer, but she was sure the time limit was in the back of his mind when he didn't continue teasing.

With a fluid push of his hips, he sunk in between her hips. (Y/N)'s lips fell open at the stretch, a moan getting stuck in her throat to leave nothing more than a heavy puff of air falling from her mouth. Harry's gaze was concentrated on where they were connected, his length disappearing inside her. His hand stretching back her panties let go when he bottomed out, his base pressing into her budding clit.

His chest was heaving when he finally looked up at her once more. She could see the boundary of his irises beginning to waver, the black bleeding into the sclera. He was losing control in the most thrilling sense, the idea causing her walls to pulse around his splitting length.

"'S been too long, darling," he told her, voice a low rumble.

"Uh-huh," she sounded, giving a pathetic nod of her head with her hands fisting the bedding at her sides. She wanted so badly to reach for him, feel his skin under her palms, but feared flying away if she let go before she had her head on straight.

"Never gonna wait this long again, 'kay?" Rearing back his hips, he grunted when he pushed through her channel once more.

A puff of air left (Y/N)'s lungs once his hips pressed against hers in a slap, as if he had knocked it right out of her. Settling his hands on the bones of her hips, his thumbs stretched up towards the curve of her waist in a gentle sweeping that opposed the strength of his grip. He held her steady as he curated a fluid pace, knocking the breath out of her each time he sank inside her.

(Y/N)'s breathing came in puffs every time she felt his tip nudge deep inside her, her body being pushed further and further into the mattress. Without his hands on her body keeping her place, she would have hit her head on the headboard by now, she figured, the thought being one that would have made her laugh if not for the fact that she was in the middle of something.

"You're so tight," he gritted out, his voice deep and rumbling through his chest, "Thought y'said y'were ready for me."

"I am, I am," she rushed out, pausing when he gave her a particularly punishing thrust, "I-Its been too long, re-rememeber?"

His hands squeezed her hips that much more at her words. "I know, darling. Gonna have to make this one last then. Can't stretch y'out every time we fuck, can we?"

Mindlessly, she shook her head, willing to agree with any and everything he was saying at the moment. She wouldn't mind him taking the time to stretch her out every time he pulled her to bed, but now wasn't the time to get greedy—she already had his cock rearranging her organs, there wasn't much more she could pine for, was there?

Except for maybe touching him herself.

Not wanting to distract him from his job, (Y/N) unfurled her fingers from the sheets at her sides, reaching towards the thick of his arms. Her fingernails sunk into the skin, leaving small moon shapes that would no doubt still be pink by the time he was having to slip out and meet his friend. She liked the idea, her fingers clenching that much more, that a part of her would remain with him even when they couldn't be together.

Harry was seemingly spurred on by the touch, hips knocking into hers in heady strokes. She was going to have bruises tomorrow, but she didn't care. Her mouth dropped open, small uh's leaving her parted lips in time with every push of his hips.

"Harry, I-I," she started, her voice catching in her throat before she could say much more.

"'M right here, darling, 's alright," he attempted to soothe her though his voice was strained and breathy with every thrust he sunk inside her.

Her mouth was dry by the time she found her voice again, her eyes fluttering to a close. "I—Can—I want to touch—"

That was all she managed to get out before a bubbling moan fell from her lips when he dared to grind against her once bottoming out. Through her taut underwear, he pressed against her clit, her body jumping at the touch.

"But you are touching me," he drawled, bringing her back down as he pulled his hips back.

She knew he was only trying to goad her, get her stubborn and petulant in the way that always made him laugh, but she didn't care. It was going to work, but she would leave her scolding for later.

"You know what I mean, Harry" she argued, peeling her eyes open to find him looking at her with that smug smile as if he wasn't exerting all of his energy into stealing her breath away. "You're being so mean to me!"

"I'm being mean to you?" he repeated, the rhythm of his hips slowing just a hair when he brought the intensity of his gaze to match hers. "You really think that right now, darling?"

"Yes, I do," she whined, now upset by the fact he was slowing down and not letting her touch him. She wrapped her legs around his hips from where he was knelt between her thighs in hopes of spurring him on, feeling the ridge of his length pressing through.

One of his hands on her hips slid up her body, skating over her tummy and between her breasts until he landed on her neck. His palm laid flat on her collarbones with his fingers wrapping around her throat, a slight pressure. His hips worked in shallow thrusts, barely pulling his length out before he was pushing in once more.

"Are you sure?" he pressed, a slight pressure closing in on the side of her throat as he squeezed that much more, "If this isn't enough for you, I can show y'how mean I can really be."

(Y/N) felt her eyes round out as she gazed up at him, her heart stuttering in her chest. Time seemingly stood still in that moment, every detail melting away to leave only Harry in focus.

"Oh my god," she murmured, her voice squeaking through her throat.

A slow smile tugged up the corner of Harry's lips. "No god, darling. Jus' me."

(Y/N) couldn't help but to buck her hips against his, urging him for more. She could feel her walls fluttering around him, her wings at her back struggling against the mattress with their own restless energy begging to fluff out.

Harry kept his hand as an anchoring weight on her throat as he dropped back into the rhythm of his hips, tightening in pulsing squeezes just long enough to have her eyes rolling to the back of her head before lightening up once more. His own control—despite the facade he was offering to (Y/N)—began to waver that much more. His eyes were almost completely black, the inky veins snaking out to envelope the sclera with every punishing thrust. The moment (Y/N) was back on Earth, peeling her eyes open enough, she swore she saw glimpses of his glamor fading, revealing the large black wings shrouding his back.

He was close, that much she was sure of.

"A-are you going to cum?" she asked, voice rumbling under his hand.

Shaking his head, he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. "Not until you, darling. Angels first."

"But, I can see your wings."

His breathing came in pants. "I know, but you're still finishing first, darling."

Taking his hand off her neck, the ghost of his warmth left behind, Harry wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her off the bed. Repositioning himself, he knelt on the mattress as he dragged her into his lap. His cock was snug inside her when she settled over his thighs, feeling just that much deeper with the new angle.

Wasting no time, he had his hands stationed on her hips once more, setting a pace for her to bounce on his cock.

"Think y'can fuck yourself like this, darling? Do all the hard work for me?" he murmured, dragging his lips over the same parts of her neck where he had choked her moments before.

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she answered, a mindless reflex as he concentrated on matching his grip.

Using the leverage of her knees on either side of him, she lifted herself off his cock, allowing his head to stretch through her pulsing walls, before sitting herself back down in a smack of her skin against his. It was a relief to put her hands on him, feeling every inch she could reach. Her palms skimmed over the broad of his shoulders, planes of his back, and the thick of his arms all with her nails following closely behind.

Harry did much of the same, trailing up the curve of her spine until he found the base of her wings. (Y/N) couldn't help but to keen into his touch, back arching through it took everything in her to keep from getting distracted and keep riding him like he had asked.

The first graze of his fingers over her feathers was enough to get her stomach tightening, and mouth dropping into a moan. She could feel him smiling against her neck, too proud over her reaction.

"Always so cute, even when y'don't mean to be, you know that?" he murmured, dotting a kiss just below her ear, "All I've got to do is touch your feathers, and you're done for."

She wanted to say something, tell him that it wasn't that easy, but there was nothing that would escape her lips other than puffs of heavy breath and whining moans.

Rocking his hips up to meet hers, that much more pleasure settled in her stomach. As much as she wanted to argue with him that she wasn't that easy to make cum, there was some truth behind the fact that she was flying towards the finish line with every brush of his fingers and rock of his hips.

"I can feel y'squeezing me, darling," he murmured, dragging his mouth over the line of her jaw in a lingering kiss, "Y'gonna cum for me? Did I finally work hard enough for you?"

Despite the fact he'd asked her a question, there was no way he had been expecting an answer with the way he wiggled his fingertips through the brush of her feathers and coasted along the bony structure underneath. He knew she wouldn't be able to survive that, a long moan choking out from her throat with her stomach too tight to bear.

(Y/N) tried to keep her pacing as best she could—something she couldn't believe Harry was able to do all the time—, but the rhythm was undoubtedly interrupted as she came around him. She could feel every inch of him as her insides pulsed around him, taking in the ridge of his head and the length that had split her open in the first place. His base was pressed heavily against her clit, rivaling the pressure of his fingers dancing through her feathers.

She wanted to be present but the heavens called to her then, the Pocket left behind for a few lingering moments. By the time she was floating back down to Earth, Harry's hands settling on her hips as he lifted her off his cock, the sight before her was enough to get her back to square one, wishing they more time.

Harry's eyes were now completely pitch black, no more white sclera or shatters of green to be seen. His glamour had faded away, leaving the leather stretch of his wings visible, the span much larger than her own as they fanned out around them. The webbing cocooned around them, creating a curtain around her body as if there wasn't enough of him touching her already.

His cock shone in the low light between them, her slick coating him as he fisted the length. It only took a few passes of his hand before his cum blurted out in thick ropes across her stomach.

"Fuck—(Y/N)—I—" Nothing of coherence fell from his lips then, every bit of concentration laid to rest as he watched himself cum on an angel.

A furrow had his brows pinched together, his eyes hooded and dark. His mouth was stagnant in a gape once he stopped trying to speak.

It wasn't until the remaining spurts of his cum rolled down his shaft and his ruddy head was seemingly beginning to stain purple that he pulled his shaky hands away. Using his wings as well as his hands, he hugged (Y/N) to his chest with his softening cock between them. Even with the mess that was beginning to dry on her stomach, he held her tight, pressing hard kisses to her temple and side of her face until he met her lips.

"Y'okay?" he panted to her, the tip of his nose nudging against her own.

"I'm okay," she murmured, wrapping her own arms around his neck.

"Happy?" he asked, just the same as he always did in these quiet moments after the storm.

A small smile stretched over her lips. "Happy."

Gently laying her backwards, Harry kept himself glued to her, wings and all, as they settled among the sheets. Despite the fact he had no discernible pupil, she could feel his gaze traveling over her features and taking her in as he always did. She felt bashful under his eyes, her own wings shyly tucking into her back.

"What is it, darling?" he asked, sweeping a few stray hairs from her face.

"Nothing, just... You."

"Just me?" he countered, reaching blindly for his discarded shirt he'd tossed earlier.

"Just you," she repeated with a breathy laugh, allowing him to wipe his mess away with his shirt. (How he had the courage to clean her up with it knowing that he'd have to wear it out to meet his friend later, she wasn't sure). "How long can you stay?"

Harry's features took on a somber set at her words, just the same as she felt. "Not long, darling. Jus' long enough to make sure y'get to sleep, then I'll have to leave."

"What if I don't fall asleep?"

The smile he gave her told her that he was very familiar with the game she was beginning to play with him.

"Guess I'll have to stay."

Despite the black eyes and leathery bat wings sprouting from his back, the sweet smile and boyish dimples in Harry's cheeks could rival that of any angel in (Y/N)'s opinion.

That was why they worked, she thought as she snuggled closer to him: she brought out the angel in him and he showed her just how fun sinning could be.

—————

ahhhh I guess this is my little contribution to the valentines day vibe this year! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and if you have any ideas send them in!! I also have more writing available on my patreon if you want more :)

#writing #harry #harry styles #harry one shot #harry blurb #harry imagine #demon harry #harry x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #demon harry styles #harry styles x reader #pleasing #harrys house #fine line #as it was #Harry styles smut #Harry smut

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leolaroot · 4 months ago

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my list of crochet ideas for the craft market

- bandanas -adult and child sizes, borders and fringe variety, beaded

- bags -market/produce bags, simple shape purses

- keychains - lil amigurumis + lil shapes + pompoms/tassel type situations perhaps (mostly bc i want to have stuff for like . a variety of budgets.

-fridge magnets - tiny amigurumis + lil shapes + BUTTERFLIES

-car mirror danglies

- stuffies of various sizessss

how do i want to display?

ultimately i think a pegboard would be the best for keychains right......

i always imagine having the bandanas hanging somehow, let me sketch what i imagine

like a desktop wire clothes hanger rack with mini hangers displaying a few bandanas to show off the different styles, then have the rest folded and sorted by size into stacks maybe to the side? + i always envision having a lil mirror standing to the side + a claw clip for try-ons . bc you need a claw clip to keep your baby hairs out of the knot while you tie on a bandana lol.

i feel like. for the magnets i keep imagining displaying them as like. a cookie sheet stood up in a decorative plate stand. and then all the magnets on the cookie sheet. i could use a chalk pen or something to divide them into price groups?

also the next market isnt until literaly july im just getting myself very excited. i want this to be a thing i can do that works.

well do you like. what do you think. would you spend $15 CAD for an adult sized crocheted bandana? $1or2 for a pompom or tassel keychain ?

#my sister sells her crochet at markets she gave me tips #one was having something for all budgets bc often theres a kid running around with like. One Toonie. who wants just Anything they can buy #for themself. yk? so like i think tiny fridge magnet or keychain ? might be something fun?

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blingitandmore · 1 year ago

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Crystal Cross Vent Clip Car Interior Decor.

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pawsitivelycozy · 6 years ago

Photo

#kawaii #cute #adorable #kawaii style #kawaii aesthetic #pastel aesthetic #decor #butterflies #magnets #fridge magnets #pawsitively cozy

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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 3 years ago

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Neck kisses + Steve Rogers? 🥺

LOVER- S.G ROGERS

Pairing: Husband! Steve x Wife! Reader

Word Count: 809

Summary: You n Steve are lil lovebirds, and neck kisses in bed is the nightly routine.

Warnings: this is all fluff!!

Butterfly kisses. That's what you and Steve had called them.

Little innocent kisses, brushes of skin-on-skin contact. Every day on the playground, he’d run up to you after a game of soccer, gently sweeping your hand up to kiss it swiftly.

It tickles! you'd always giggle, a warmth spreading up your arm to your cheeks, the cool breeze soothing the blush. Like a butterfly's wings. he’d smile, tugging your arm so you'd run after him to the forest that dotted along the field.

Sticking his tongue out at the boys who'd call after him, claiming girls had cooties, he’d pull you along with him between the trees, to the creek that trickled through the brush.

The cool water always calmed you, the two of you sitting on the rocks by the running water. Sometimes the pair of you would go swimming, on the extra hot summer days.

Steve always caught the frogs and the bugs, chasing you around until you smashed enough water on him to flood a city to get him to stop, him ending up rolling with laughter.

There was no creek by your house, its landscape covered in an endless meadow of grass and wildflowers. Steve had built it for you as a wedding gift, although marrying him was the best gift you could have ever asked for.

The two of you had made a home out of the humble little shack, the walls dotted with photos ranging from your wedding day all the way back to his seventh birthday party, with you trying to shove his head in the cake. Magnets covered the fridge, little knick-knacks the two of you had bought on vacations across the house.

Here you stood, a glass of wine in hand as you smiled at the little glass butterfly Steve had bought you on your honeymoon at an antique store in Italy.

A warm embrace snapped you out of your trance, your husband's firm hands gently gripping your hips as he kissed the top of your head. “ My beautiful butterfly.” he murmured into your hair, his hands beginning to slide up and down your sides soothingly. “ Missed you Stevie.” you peered up at him, eyes filled with love as he bent down to kiss your lips tenderly.

“ You always miss me fairy.” he whispered against your lips, emitting a giggle from you. Setting down the glass decor and your wine, you twirled around to wrap your arms around his neck, placing your fuzzy socked feet on top of his, something you had done since you were kids.

Soft, gentle music played from the turntable, and Steve began to sway you side to side, spinning the two of you around the living room in tune with the music.

“Remember when Billy stole my dinosaur toy in the second grade?” you recalled, staring up into his crystal blue eyes as he chuckled. “ And I chased him down the entire recess until he gave it back. How could I possibly forget?”

The fairy lights draped across the windows flickered on, their warm light shinning a sparkle in Steve's eyes as he smiled down at you, kissing you again gingerly. “ You've always been my knight in shining armour Rogers.”

“ And you've always been my princess, Mrs. Rogers”

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

The two of you lay in the comfort of your bed, blankets draped across your bodies as Steve read to you quietly. His voice calmed you, luring you to a place of serenity as you curled up to him even closer, wrapping the blankets around his upper half.

“ Have I known you twenty seconds, or twenty years Cordelia? He murmured gently, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear that had fallen.” Your eyes fluttered shut, and you strived to keep them open, sleep threatening to pull you under like a wave.

The sheets shuffled as Steve set down the novel, reaching to take a sip of his tea from the bedside table. “ You're cute as an old man ya know. Drinking tea, reading books before bed.” you whispered, sleeping lingering in your voice. He snorted, smacking you playfully.

I’m three years older than you fairy. If I’m old, you're old.”

“I know…” you trailed off, snuggling up to pepper soft kisses against his neck. His breathing slowed, a happy sigh leaving his mouth as you placed little lovebites on his skin.

A shriek escaped you as he scooped you up in his arms to drape you across his body, kissing your cheeks and trailing down to lick and nip at your neck. “It tickles!” you cried, laughing when his hands came up to capture your ass, squeezing it tenderly.

“Butterfly kisses.” he whispered, placing a little kiss to the ink that swirled across your shoulderblade, a little black butterfly fluttering like the beat of your heart whenever Steve was around- the same as it had all these years.

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lovetorn · 4 years ago

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dream’s birthday bash [roommate!dream au]

Roommate!Dream x Reader

summary: it’s dream’s birthdayyyy!!!

warnings: alcohol, swearing

w/c: 2.9k+

a/n: happy birthday dream!! i’m in love w this. i hope u are too. also, there is a few references to past roommate!dream blurbs & one-shots, so i recommend reading those before you start this one or you may be a little confused at some things the characters say. thanks!! <3

roommate!dream masterlist

—

Dream’s birthday is something you haven't experienced yet since you moved in together in September last year.

Dream had promised the football team that his birthday party was going to be the biggest of the year, so you, being the party planner, had vowed to make it the best because Dream can’t organise—he disagreed and said that he only made you the party planner because he knows you’re good at it?? You gave him a confused look; you’ve never planned a party before.

Anyway, the 12th was approaching quicker than you anticipated and the only things you’d organised so far is the alcohol (thanks to George) and decorations. You had little notes on your phone with multiple checklists and you had yet to tick every last box off.

Organising food was probably the hardest thing. You knew that there were going to be around 100+ people squeezing into your apartment, drinking, so food is essential. You asked Dream what types of food he wanted, his reply?

“Chicken wings, not spicy.”

You rolled your lips between your teeth and nodded. Great. “Anything else? There’s gonna be a lot of people, Dream.”

He brought his fingers to rest on his lips as he thought about it. You knew when he got an idea because then he clicked his fingers and pointed at you. “Sandwiches. You know, like the little ones?”

Squinting at him, you sighed. “You think that’s going to be enough for more than 100 people?”

Dream nods. “Easy.”

You shake your head in disbelief and add sandwiches, along with other finger foods, to the list. “Thanks.”

Next to organise was Dream’s present. You spent days racking your brain, trying to figure out what he would want, eventually coming up with nothing.

So, you asked Sapnap, who was no help. “Fuck if I know, the man buys anything he wants himself these days.”

You rolled your eyes and took a trip to Target. Whilst there, you decided on an excess of small gag gifts: a Ron Swanson dishwasher magnet (so you and Dream can stop arguing over who put dirty dishes in with the clean ones), an engraved bottle opener, a ‘do not disturb sign for his bedroom door (chosen based on one too many run-ins), a Minecraft ice cube tray, a toothbrush holder (so both of your toothbrushes stop touching in the cup), and a pack of Minecraft socks.

You put the small presents into a gift bag, covering them with tissue paper, and then put in the final piece that wasn’t a joke gift—a mixtape of your and Dream’s favourite songs for his car. You brushed your thumb over the plastic case and let out a breathy laugh at the photo on the front—a selfie of the two of you in Dream's car, energy drinks in your hands and toothy grins with the text, ‘Dream & Y/n’s Gr8est Hits’ written in bright pink marker. You're excited to give it to him, but you're nervous and embarrassed, too—is it lame?

You shook your head and placed the bag in your closet.

George delivered the alcohol earlier in the day: 18 cases of beer and the same in White Claw, and a few bottles of vodka and rum for the close friends. You couldn't thank him enough for helping you, even more so after he helped put the covered trays of food in the refrigerator from the delivery truck downstairs.

You had (reluctantly) asked Sapnap to organise music because you had no time in between making sure the food order was correct and getting yourself ready. He agreed immediately and waved off your hesitance and told you he'd make the best playlist to ever exist—you put too much trust in him.

Before the party, you and Dream had taken a few shots together, just to get you to stop stressing over the planning of the party and Dream to stop worrying for you.

"Ready?" Dream smirked, his shot glass hanging loosely from his fingers. You nodded and then, at the same time, tapped the glass on the counter before you threw the shot back. The acetone taste of the vodka slid down your throats and you made disgusted faces at each other before a knock at the door indicated that your first guests were here.

Now, the party is in full swing and it's safe to say, there is definitely enough food.

When you see Sapnap at the food table, aka the kitchen counter, he thanks you for ordering non-spicy wings. You shake your head, laugh, and hug him tightly. "I'm serious," He mumbles with chicken in his mouth. "These are so~ good!"

The living room is cramped, but nobody seems to be complaining. Almost everyone from the apartment block is in your flat right now, with a few from other complexes. You lost sight of Dream a few hours ago, choosing to stay with your own friends while he hangs with his as the two groups don't usually mingle together.

“Niki!” You laugh whilst the girl finishes her second shot and passes the bottle of rum back to you. Shaking your head, you bring the large bottle to your lips, already regretting mixing different alcohols. You’d already had a few White Claws, thanks to Sapnap who kept challenging you to shotguns at the start.

Karl comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist before he snatches the bottle out of your hand and takes a swig.

“Karl!” Now, all three of you are laughing together. He slides his hand off of your stomach and stands to his full height, putting his lips to the White Claw can he holds in his other hand. You warn him about mixing alcohol, but he waves you off and assures you that he's fine.

The three of you stand on the dance floor, grooving to the beat of 'Super Freak' by Rick James. You grab Karl's hand to spin him around and then do the same to Niki, laughter filling the small space you have created in the middle of the crowd. You wouldn't admit it to Sapnap, but his playlist is actually good.

"Mi Amor!" The sound of Quackity's voice pulls you from your little group with Niki and Karl and you smile when you see his wide grin as he pushes past a few football players.

"Q! When did you get here? I didn't see you come in," You engulf him in a hug and giggle when he laughs loudly.

"I came in through the window," You pull back slightly to give him an incredulous look and shake your head. God, you are tipsy. "Nahhh, I had an exam, so I just got here."

You nod and feel the rum going straight to your head. Quackity then notices Karl and Niki behind you and gives them hugs too. You watch as your friends greet each other and turn to look at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. 10:33 pm.

“Guys, it's time for cake!” You shout over the music to Niki, Quackity and Karl and they smile and nod, all three of you migrating to the fridge to collect Dream’s cake and get it ready.

You pull a 3 layered vanilla cake out of the refrigerator. It is slathered in white icing and has rainbow sprinkles on the top with the words, ‘happy birthday dream’, in piped icing. Karl's mouth waters at the sight of the dessert and when he goes to get a dollop of icing from the side, you don’t smack his hand away—you have a plan.

Other guests see you preparing the candles and lighting them and turn off the lights for you. You smile at the 21 lit candles and pick up the cake, being careful not to trip on anything.

The entire room starts singing the ‘Happy Birthday’ anthem, their phones out to film as you spot Dream’s messy blonde hair over the crowd. He scrunches his face up in embarrassment and switches his beer from his right hand to his left to give you a side hug and a peck on the cheek when you approach him. The room sings and all attention is on him, but Dream only has eyes for you as you inch the cake closer so he can blow out his candles.

After he does so, the room erupts into cheers and then you give Dream a mischievous grin. There’s a little fear in his eyes and you launch the cake towards his face. Everybody laughs and hollers when you pull the cake stand away from him to see his face covered in white icing and rainbow sprinkles. Dream stands frozen for a moment, wiping his eyes with his free hand, before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him, rubbing the icing in your hair and on your cheek.

“Dream!” You cackle, trying to push him off, but failing and eventually succumbing to his hold. The phone torches shine brightly at the two of you as people continue filming. His laughter is music to your ears.

Dream smiles down at you, eyes lazy and cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” He whispers. Your heart flutters in your chest and butterflies swarm your stomach as you nod. Everybody disperses and carries on with their previous antics, leaving you and Dream together.

“I got you a present, I’ll give it to you when everybody’s gone.”

The sentence makes the present seem more sensual than it actually is, and it makes Dream’s heart skip a beat—but he knows it’s not what he’s thinking. You pull away from Dream and wave back at him, knocking into a few people which elicits a laugh from him as he watches.

“Dude, you’re so fucked,” George says, smirking as he follows Dream’s gaze on you. Dream elbows George in the bicep.

“Fuck off.”

“Yeah bro, if you don’t make a move soon, someone else will,” Sapnap comments, coming up to stand on Dream’s other side. The urge to punch the both of them is strong, but instead, the blonde groans and skulls the rest of his beer as he loses sight of you in the crowd.

—

“Bye, guys! Thanks for coming!” Dream tries his best to look composed, but he’s so drunk. As soon as the door closes, he locks it and lets out a huge sigh. You come out of your room with the gift bag in your hands. Dream raises his eyebrows and attempts to give you a surprised look. “Wow, a present?”

You giggle and lead him to the couch. He flops down, throws his feet up and puts his hands behind his head. You sit next to him and shove the bag into his hands. “It’s not much, but you literally have everything already, so this is what I came up with.”

You hold your breath and you watch him pick through the bag. A smile breaks out on his face when he sees the CD. He flips it around to show you as if you haven’t seen it before and opens the case. “A mixtape? How romantic.”

The heat that rises to your cheeks is scolding and you stop yourself from choking. Dream, however, doesn’t look at you as he digs through and comments on every item. When he’s gone through every gift, he picks up the mixtape again and looks you dead in the eyes.

“This is the most thoughtful thing I’ve ever gotten for my birthday. Thank you, Y/n.”

You’re surprised. “The most thoughtful? It’s only a CD.”

Dream’s face contorts into one of confusion. “Only a CD? You made this for me with your own blood, sweat and tears.” You wouldn’t go that far.

“Oh, well, you’re welcome, I guess,” You laugh, reaching down to grasp his large hand. The action causes Dream to tilt his head and shift closer to you.

“Seriously, thank you. You mean so much to me,” He confesses, although you can barely hear it. You feel tears pricking your eyes as you watch him wipe his own. “Fuck, why am I getting emotional? It’s that fucking vodka, that’s why.”

“Don’t make up excuses, D,” You tease, squeezing his hand a few times. He wheezes lightly then sighs. His green eyes are so bright and there’s still a little smudge of icing on the side of his nose from the cake. You reach up and wipe it away, licking your thumb beforehand. Dream closes his eyes as you do so, biting his lip as you pull your hand away. 2:29 am.

“Okay, I think it’s time to get you to bed,” You mumble as you stand up, the moment broken. Dream nods, collecting his presents and chucking them all in the gift bag before he follows you to his room, a little disappointed.

Dream stands in the doorway and watches as you pull back his bed covers and turn on the lamp on his nightstand. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight,” You push past him before you turn. “I’ll have Gatorade and Advil ready for you in the morning, okay?”

Dream gives you a loving smile and nods, still holding the bag in front of him as he stands in the middle of his room. “Goodnight, Y/n, thanks for everything.”

You close the door behind you and when you get back to your room, you kick yourself for not making a move. You peel your clothes off of your body and throw them in the corner of the room, the space becoming too hot for your liking—maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the fact that it's summer, or maybe it's your utter embarrassment and regret; you don't bother to choose which one.

You flop down on your bed, half-naked, and stare at the ceiling. Why didn't you make a move? It was the perfect opportunity—

Your thoughts are forgotten when there's a soft knock on your bedroom door. You scramble to put some pyjamas on as you call, 'just a second!', and then you're swinging your door open.

Dream stands there in his sweatpants only. You resist the urge to rake your eyes down his torso.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" The question surprises you—of fucking course it surprises you! The only reason he comes to your room at night is to vent; not like this.

"Uh, yeah," You reply, cracking the door open just a tad wider so he can slip through. Once he's inside, you sigh in confusion and close your door quietly. Dream is already sorting out the bed situation behind you, throwing your hundreds of throw pillows onto the floor and lifting up your duvet so he can slip under.

You tilt your head at him when he looks at you expectantly—you assume he's waiting for you to get in bed, which you do.

You rest your head on your pillow and turn your head to look at Dream, who is already staring at you. Your skin is hot and your heart is in your throat when you see how green his eyes are in the warm glow of your lamp.

"What's up?" You whisper although you didn't mean for it to come out so low. Dream's eyes trace your face; your eyes, eyebrows, nose, freckles, lips. "Dream?"

He's silent for a while and you guess it's because he's trying to figure out his drunken thoughts. "I just wanted to be with you, you know," He says, his voice breaking slightly. You suck in a breath, turning onto your side so you face him. "You planned my party all by yourself and I'm so happy you did."

You don't have the heart to tell him that George and Sapnap helped you, he looks so content. "I'm so glad, Dreamy," Your voice is velvety, and you can't help the warm feeling blooming in your chest. Dream's eyes travel from your own to your lips and stay there.

“C’mere," Dream mumbles. You barely nod before you lean closer to him.

You can tell Dream is figuring out what to do by the way his lips part and then close suddenly a few times, so, for the second time this week, you take things into your own hands.

You scoot closer to him, your breaths mixing in the small space between your lips and his nose bumping yours. You were so close. But not close enough.

"Dream, I'm gonna do something crazy, okay? Don't hate me," Here goes nothing.

"I could never hate you, baby," Dream murmurs, adjusting his head on his pillow. The pet name goes straight to your head and throwing out any and all rational thoughts, you lean in and place your lips softly on his.

It takes him a few seconds to react and in those moments, you fear you've made a huge mistake, but when his hands find your hips and pull you impossibly closer, you're glad you kissed him—are kissing him.

This is nothing like wine night a few weeks ago.

Your hands find the back of his head and tug on his hair lightly, earning a throaty groan. The sound makes you clench your fists and pull a little harder. You move your lips across his jaw and towards his ear. "Happy Birthday, birthday boy," You whisper.

Dream lets out a breathy laugh and hugs you closer. His face presses into your neck and you feel him leaving feather-light kisses on your skin. The feeling makes you giddy.

"I'm one lucky birthday boy, aren't I?" He mutters, pecking your neck firmer now. You giggle softly, running your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

"You bet your ass you are."

940 notes · View notes

oro-e-diamanti · 3 years ago

Text

Quiet Music: Poco a poco forte

In collaboration with @bethanysnow (whose askbox is always open!)

Jealousy was never a good look with stardust in the other’s eyes. Boundaries are tested. Fantasies are made hot and heavy with some alcohol. Will they make it back to the hotel all in one piece?

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 5845

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys @luvbadass @buttercup-beeee @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv @tryymebitch @mell-bell @fenhakwe @solacestyles @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree

***

Copenhagen was a whirlwind that barely left any time to breathe. Even the short break Y/n was granted in between was promptly used to make a dash for the nearest tourist shop. Adding a fridge magnet to her growing collection. No misses so far. She’d be lying if she wasn’t proud of it. Victoria gave a little tour through the city, giving ample opportunity to provide the fans with content via various social media platforms. A mad scramble back to the venue, soundcheck, dinner. A gig full of little mishaps, including Ethan losing a drumstick halfway through and Damiano almost tumbling off stage. At least the crew had gotten into a groove, ‘new tour’ jitters finally forgotten. That night, at the hotel, Y/n had found herself standing outside her door, empty ice bucket in hand. Somewhat wondering, hoping, someone would join her. Not just anyone. Him. But she wouldn’t knock on his door and he didn’t come to hers. It wasn’t to be. At least not that night.

The morning had brought the band another wake-up call from Y/n. Everyone was starting to settle into their routine. Get ready, get on the bus, get handed coffee by Y/n. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying this little comfort of domestic bliss, taking care of the people she was starting to consider friends. It felt right.

***

Damiano’s morning wasn’t quite as peaceful. His thoughts were plagued by images of Y/n. His decision to ‘cool it’ and back off a little seemed to be biting him in the arse. When she had come around to wake him up, she had been in a partially sheer blouse, black jeans and boots and he thought she looked like the perfect little alternative housewife. Luring him out of bed with the promise of coffee and breakfast. Now he was sitting on the couch on the bus, watching Y/n fly around the little kitchenette and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her bum in those jeans.

Nope, he wasn’t going to do anything about it. Not now. The conversation with Victoria two nights ago was still ringing in his head. He had decided she was right - no use in pursuing anything unless he was certain what he was feeling and what he wanted out of it. He would still have enough time to make his move once he figured it out. Right? He didn’t know what Y/n was thinking. Or what she thought of him, so no use dwelling on it. Still the thought struck him, he barely knew anything about her. He should probably talk to her more. Infallible logic, he thought to himself. Backing off and talking to her at the same time. Great.

“Y/n… how do you usually take your coffee, by the way?”

“Lots of creamer, usually. Sometimes a bit of sugar, if I’m feeling fancy. Or if I’m feeling really fancy at a café, I might get a caramel macchiato.”

“Caramel is always nice.” Of course, she would like caramel, he thought to himself. “Do you normally drink coffee or are you more or stereotypical British tea drinker?”

“I enjoy a cuppa when I’m home, definitely. Italians aren’t exactly known for their tea now, are they?” A smirk appeared on her face, maybe a little baffled by the conversation, but happy to humour him. “Lady Gray is a particular favourite. Followed by breakfast tea with some sugar and milk. Before coffee. I can make you some tea sometime if you fancy?”

“That’d be great. You know, I just had an amazing idea actually,” Damiano grinned. “When we first went to Berlin, there was this amazing tea shop - would you want to go when we have the gig there?”

“That sounds lovely,” Y/n replied. “Of course.”

Another step closer to getting to know her.

***

“Right, we’ve all got an hour until soundcheck and some press things, I’m gonna go take Chili on her walk, you lot do whatever you want until then.”

Y/n had expected a few non-committal grunts, a wave, maybe a “see you later, I’ll go have a nap”, but instead, the whole band seemed to be on their highest energy levels. All of them immediately scrambled to their feet, looking for shoes and jackets, proclaiming they wanted to see the city, maybe take some pictures for Instagram along the way. Y/n wouldn’t dare complain about the company.

It didn’t take them long to reach the harbour, walking along the river as they enjoyed the bustle of town and the view. Y/n found herself pulling out her phone, telling everyone to gather around her.

“I’m no photographer, but I do need some memories of all of this. Thomas, stop pulling that face!” Thomas quickly dropped the grimace as she took the picture, the historic old town in the background. Chili was busy running around between the five of them, loving whoever gave her the attention the most. Y/n thought Victoria was reaching for the leash, already preparing to hand it over, but instead the bassist grabbed her hand. Obviously in a giddy mood, she began swinging their intertwined hands between them as they walked. Y/n couldn’t bite back a smile. She had missed having a close friend ever since she had moved to Italy leaving her best friend behind in the UK and she felt like this blossoming friendship with Victoria could truly begin to fill the void in her heart.

The blonde girl pulled her into a deep hug as Chili decided to go bother Ethan instead.

“I want a photo with just you,” Vic explained, pulling out her own phone for a snapshot. Y/n complied with a sigh but wrapped her arms around her, ready to take the picture. Right as the click went off, Victoria pressed a kiss to her cheek, taking her by surprise. Neither of them could hold back a giggle at her face in the photo.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, by the way,” Y/n spoke up as a little break in the conversation offered itself. If only to distract from the affection and it worked perfectly. All eyes and ears on her. “I’ve booked a little dinner for tonight. But not just any dinner. A burlesque one!”

The group let out various cheers. Thomas immediately ran ahead of the group, shamelessly faking a striptease as they kept walking. Damiano made sure to record the performance, already giggling to himself. Thomas was in the middle of shrugging off his jacket, walking backwards, when - ouch! - he bumped into a pole, heavily bonking his head. Everyone erupted into hysterical laughter, and after rubbing the back of his head with a pour for a moment, even the guitarist joined in.

“You alright?” Y/n asked breathlessly, trying to hide the giggles in her voice, genuinely concerned about him still.

“Besides the fact that I just got all of you to drop your panties for me? I’m great!” The blond grinned at his own joke, as everyone else rolled their eyes.

“Yes! Oh my god, take me Thomas!” Damiano gasped dramatically, pushing himself up against Thomas, who grabbed onto his leg to dip him.

“Wait! Hold on!” Y/n shouted, once again grabbing her phone as the captured the moment. “Now that’s one for the fridge.”

***

Backstage was business as usual. Y/n once again took the time to watch the band soundcheck, always feeling soft looking at the way they played without having to be ‘on’, without putting on a big performance. Yet, she was still in work mode, phone displaying the name of a reporter she was waiting on, along with the name of the magazine she was working for. It didn’t take long for her to appear.

The woman was undeniably beautiful. Thin figure, long, red hair, picture perfect makeup. Even her clothes were pressed, luxury brands decorating her, adding to the pristine image. A press pass hung around her neck, acrylic nails tapping something into her phone. Leaning back, Y/n noticed the particular red leather on the bottom of the woman’s heels.

It was only after putting her phone away that she acknowledged Y/n at all.

“Anywhere I can sit down with the band?” Her eyes barely even met Y/n’s.

“Uh, yeah, once they’re done with soundcheck, they will be in the greenroom,” Y/n said, mustering the woman. “You the reporter?”

“Sure, sure. Can I go there now, sit down, get ready?”

Y/n studied the press pass on the woman’s neck, making sure she was actually the person they were looking for and shrugged. “Alright, follow me.”

She led the reporter further backstage. The greenroom was fitted with a couch and a couple of chairs, a vanity in front of the mirror and makeup already carelessly thrown around. A costume rack in the back.

“Make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” the woman muttered, looking around the room, obviously dissatisfied with it’s slightly chaotic state and - probably - lack of style. “That’s all I need you for, then.”

Y/n’s eye twitched, busying herself with the clothes, reorganising them to distract herself.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but rules are rules. Can’t be in a room alone, privacy reasons and all that. I’m sure you understand.”

“Well then.” She carefully placed herself on one of the chairs, highly aware of her posture, her face, and the fact that she’d be right in view of everybody entering the room. “Maybe you can be a bit of help, then. You know, a little insider information between us girls… How into the whole, you know, rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle are they really? I’m talking, drugs, alcohol… groupies?”

It was no question as to what she was hinting at.

“Well, Damiano has a whole tattoo verifying that he hates parties. Plus, they’re not really known for that kind of stuff. And for the interview, I’d rather you stick to the approved questions that your magazine has discussed with our management. There’s no ‘insider information’ here -” Y/n was about to talk herself into a whole rant, when the door opened and the band moved into the room, joyous and hyped for the show that evening.

Victoria was the first to bounce over to Y/n, kissing her cheek, before collapsing on the couch next to her. Ethan, Thomas and Damiano followed suit. Chili had followed the band, now hopping onto the couch and making herself comfortable on Y/n’s lap. Ethan looked over at the reporter, brow raised. “You here to do the interview?”

“Oh you know it,” she winked. Y/n didn’t miss how her whole demeanour had changed and she couldn’t have been more annoyed. “Lovely to meet you all.”

She held out her hand to Ethan, the smirk never leaving her face, before greeting the others in a similar fashion. She held onto Damiano’s hand much longer than the others.

“Nice to meet you,” Damiano said, politely, sitting down as well.

“Oh, that’s no trouble at all,” she beamed at the singer. “Now, you’re here in Hamburg today, and in the part of town most notorious for having Europe’s largest red light district. Do you feel like that’s the perfect background for your gig tonight? You know, with the music you play and the way you dress - it’s not like you’ve been shy about sex in your career so far.”

They all chuckled slightly.

“Well, sexuality isn’t something to be ashamed about, at least we don’t think so. It’s part of everyday life and part of our own experiences so we put that into music,” Victoria eloquently explained. “And what we’ve seen of the city so far has been very beautiful.”

“Well, maybe I should give you a little tour then, show you the naughty parts of town,” she laughed. “Back on topic though, I imagine touring can be hard, being away from everyone. Do you ever get lonely on tour? For friends or… something else?”

Damiano coughed. “Sure, we get lonely, like anyone else would. But we make a family out of the crew. Everyone on our team is very close to us.” Y/n could clearly see in his eyes that he knew full well what the woman was hinting at. “We love touring, so when you love something, it doesn’t feel like work.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. Y/n could see through all of them easily - none of them wanted to be there.

“Yes, of course, touring can be difficult, but we have fun, so not that bad,” Thomas added.

Y/n didn’t miss the way the reporter briefly looked over her shoulder to muster a reaction from her. “Well I’m sure you’re easily able to find some fun away from your… crew. Lots of parties on tour so far?”

At that point, Y/n was ready to rip the reporter to shreds. But she knew she had to stay professional, and the band was more than able to hold their own, so she stayed quiet. Ethan next to her sat up a little, obviously uncomfortable.

“No, we don’t party. No time.” His vision went dark as he looked at the woman in front of them. As kind and mindful as he usually was, he didn’t shy down when it came to showing his scarier side when he needed to.

“Yeah. We sometimes go to a bar on a day off, but that’s about it. Work is more important,” Victoria threw in as she put an arm around Ethan on the back of the couch.

Y/n felt a wave of pride at the way the band was holding up. It was absolutely no secret to her that they were desperately waiting for this interview to end, annoyed with the reporter and the lines she kept trying to cross, but they stayed polite and professional. She thought that this was what made them real rockstars in that moment.

“Okay, one more question, then. You entered this business really young, you still are, yet you write quite mature music, how do you manage that?”

“We write what we want to write. Perform how we want to perform. I don’t think that has an age limit,” Damiano spoke curtly. His eyes flickered over to their assistant. Y/n was sure he didn’t miss the way she was staring daggers into the back of the reporter’s skull. “And music has always been a passion of ours. We just got lucky really early in life, I guess.”

“Well thank you very much for your time,” the reporter said, standing up, and once again reaching out her hand to say her goodbyes. “Hope to see you around…” As she came to Damiano, Y/n didn’t miss how she stuffed a little note in his hand. “...hopefully.”

“Can I go kick her face now?” Y/n stood up, seething, as soon as the reporter had left the room. “Sorry, no, that’s actually rude. But I’m going to call management and report that woman.”

“Yeah, that… wasn’t cool,” Ethan contemplated. “How about you make that call and then we take your mind off it with the dinner show you booked for us, yeah?”

Y/n took a deep breath, looking at Ethan, whose eyes had turned back to show nothing but kindness. She couldn’t wait to forget about this disaster for the rest of the evening and enjoy herself. With the band in tow, she was sure she would.

***

Damiano hadn’t been quite sure what to expect from dinner that evening - but it wasn’t a table smack in the middle of the first row right in front of the stage. He should have seen it coming, really. When Y/n planned and schemed, she always made sure to get them the best of the best. Determined to make sure everyone was having fun. She truly took care of them like no other.

A waiter was at their table in no time, taking orders for drinks and food, and the openers started before Damiano even had a chance to take a sip of his wine. As soon as it became obvious that the first act of the evening would be pole dancing. The rest of the band started snickering, nudging Damiano’s side. Still, they all watched in amazement as the dancer started their performance, music filling the room.

“You know, I could do that,” Damiano whispered in Y/n’s ear as he leaned in close. She looked over at him - at the performer - back to him.

“Sure you can,” she giggled.

“Oh I can,” Damiano insisted, leaning in closer than necessary now. “And in heels.”

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from coughing, choking ever so slightly on her drink, as her eyes widened and a slight shade of pink appeared on her face.

Damiano simply couldn’t help himself. He knew he had meant to back off, give her a little space, give himself some time to think, but the words simply slipped out. “I can always offer you a private show, you know?”

This time, she only paused for a moment before whispering back, “You teach me pole dancing, I’ll teach you rumba, yeah?”

Fuck, he hadn’t expected her to get the upper hand so quickly. Still, he never once lost his smirk, murmuring a “sure” back at her. She had gotten back her cool, focusing back on her meal now, only looking up to watch the performance every now and then in between bites. She was making it way too hard for him to back off. He wondered if she knew what she was doing to him.

Leaning back into his chair, Damiano watched the performer on stage. They were beautiful, no question about that. Amazing at what they did. It was impossible to keep your eyes off them, even Y/n kept getting distracted. He wondered if she’d look at him the same way if it was him up there. Or if he did a little show himself that night, on stage at their own gig. Catching her attention like the dancer was doing now. Maybe making her lose her mind a little bit. It was worth a try…

The performance was over much too quickly for his liking and only shortly after, the main dancer of the evening was announced to go on stage soon. It didn’t take long for the lights dimming, before fading to black completely. A hush falling over the crowd. A spotlight found a petite, blonde bombshell in the middle of the stage. Perfectly sculpted hair, blue boa feather skirt, a glitter corset that dripped with silver and gold accents. She seemed to be glistening under the stage light, body glitter accenting all the right curves and features. Then she turned around.

Damiano’s jaw dropped - along with just about everyone else’s. She was così bella, un angelo. She walked to the front of the stage as the crowd cheered and whistled. Damiano was enraptured by her. She was mystifyingly beautiful. Each move was carefully planned out, knowing exactly what she was doing and how to do it. She was feeding off the crowd, spurred on by the shouts and comments, as she moved across the stage.

Damiano’s eyes followed her closely. He felt hypnotised by her performance. He had never given burlesque much thought, but this show was changing his mind rapidly. The only thing to pull him out of his was a sigh - a disgruntled noise maybe - coming from his left. It was hard to make out Y/n’s face in the dark, he realised as he turned towards her. But if he’d learned anything about her body language in the past days, he was certain that she wasn’t happy. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she was leaned back in her chair in a way that tried to suggest she wasn’t bothered. But she was. He just couldn’t figure out why.

He was distracted when the dancer was back in front of their table, looking down at them from the stage. She sent all of them a wink, before pulling the elbow-length gloves off one by one and throwing them to the side with a smile. She mesmerised him, even as she moved away from them to give another table some attention. Yet, Y/n was playing at the back of his mind.

Why did she seem so mad? She was the one who had booked this dinner, why wasn’t she having fun? Was she still preoccupied with the reporter from before? Sure, that one had definitely stepped over lines, but he thought they’d all gotten out of there pretty unscathed. And the reporter's number had wandered into the bin immediately. He considered the matter closed.

The woman on stage slowly lowered herself into a split, causing pretty much the whole audience to lose their minds. This was too good. More cheers and applause from everywhere. Damiano heard Vic shouting vague words of encouragement as the woman lost her bra, only pasties covering her nipples now. Y/n let out a little groan and from the corner of his eye, he could see her rolling hers. This time, Damiano wasn’t the only one who noticed. He watched as Victoria and Ethan exchanged looks, then nods, and finally shrugs.

Finally the performance ended, the dancer leaving the stage with another wink and kiss blown towards them. Damiano wished it could’ve gone on for longer. These people knew how to turn sex into art, and he’d by lying if he said it didn’t inspire him.

“Okay, gather up, no time to waste,” Y/n order, getting up from her seat the second the lights were turned back on. “You have a show to play and I don’t want you to be late.”

Damiano threw another look around. Even Thomas, who had been too preoccupied drooling over the dancer to notice anything else, was now staring at Y/n questioningly.

“What’s going on with her?” The guitarist asked as they all gathered their stuff and followed their assistant outside.

“Fuck if I know,” Damiano mumbled. “But I wanna find out, sooner or later.”

***

It wasn’t like her to be jealous. She didn’t care much about what other people found enthralling. But Damiano had looked at the dancer as if she was god’s gift to humanity. Yes, she was pretty, yes, she knew how to shake her arse. Was it all that special? The dancer was petite, a perfect fit for Damiano’s arms. A perfect figure to match his. Y/n was confident, she knew she was beautiful, but unfortunately the rest of the world didn’t always think the same. Unlike the dancer on stage. That woman was more than beautiful… She was palatable, sexy, perfect in all the ways a woman should be. Qualities that Y/n was currently convinced she didn’t possess any of.

Okay, maybe she was jealous. But she didn’t have any right to be. The dancer was simply doing her job. And so what, if Damiano had fancied her? It wasn’t like they were together. She worked for him, that was all. She didn’t have any right to want anything from him beyond that.

The fresh air hit her face as she left the venue, forcing some clarity onto her. She’d have to get a grip and get back to focusing on her job. It’s what she was there for, after all.

***

Victoria bounced over the Y/n as she left the venue, full of adrenaline and happiness from the show she had just watched.

“That was amazing, Y/n! Where did you get the idea for this being today’s dinner?” She asked, hooking onto the assistant’s arm.

“Looked up places we could go online, found this one in a travel blog. Said it had amazing wine so I thought we could check it out,” she explained without looking up from her hands, which were toying with the receipt.

“Well, you sure do have impeccable taste,” Victoria grinned and kissed her cheek. It seemed to pull Y/n out of her head enough to look up at the bassist. But Vic’s smile vanished quickly when she saw the look in her eyes. It was cloudy, gloomy, enough to make Victoria freeze up. Thomas was excitedly chattering about the show in the performance in the background, how hot he thought the performers were, especially the last dancer. Damiano eagerly agreed. Y/n’s seemed to have a flash of venom on her face, and suddenly it clicked in Vic’s mind. Oh, she knew that look well, had carried it herself a couple of times in her life.. She was jealous. Y/n was jealous of the way they all - or maybe, someone in particular - had reacted to the woman on stage. And she was doing a bad job hiding it.

As soon as the car pulled up, everyone scrambled to get it. Y/n immediately started bouncing her leg, still a stormy look in her eyes. If it didn’t seem so serious, Victoria would be amused at the state their assistant was in. Yet, with the expression on her face right then and there, the bassist didn’t dare make a joke.

Damiano was sitting next to Y/n, and Victoria desperately tried to catch his eye. It took a slight kick against his shin to get him to look at her. She flickered eyes back and forth between Damiano and Y/n, motioning him towards the woman. Hoping he would understand. Luckily, they’d long gotten used to reading the other’s face, no need for a verbal conversation. Damiano looked down at Y/n’s hands, still picking at the receipt, and he quickly grabbed one of them. Interlacing their fingers and offering her a smile when she looked up. Her leg stopped bouncing immediately.

“You alright?” He whispered.

“Yeah. Am now.”

Victoria couldn’t bite back the smile on her face, quickly turning towards her phone to be less oblivious. Those two would do just fine, sooner or later, she was sure of it.

***

The concert venue was smaller than some of the others they’d been playing on this tour, but if anything, it had caused the crowd to be even more rowdy. Y/n once again sat to the side of the stage, engrossed in her phone. Damiano snuck a peek through the curtain, before retreating and watching Y/n instead. She didn’t seem half as gloomy as she did at the dinner show. But a certain forlorn quality was still obvious. She had never been this type of obviously sad or upset before. At least not to his attention. Well, he was determined to get her to laugh tonight. Whatever had ruined her mood, he was going to fix it.

The band was getting hyped up, gathering around, some last minute fixes to their instruments among excited chatter. Yet, apparently, it hadn’t been only him who noticed Y/n’s mood. Once again sharing a look with Ethan, Victoria motioned her head over to their assistant. He nodded, before walking over to Y/n, taking her by the hand to get her to stand up, and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Victoria quickly followed suit, then Thomas, who had caught on. Damiano quickly gave a wink before kissing her forehead instead.

“For luck!” He shouted, as he ran on stage, welcoming the crowd. A quick look back confirmed a bashful smile on her face.

Everyone was on fire that night, even Y/n seemed to let go of her bad mood more and more. Damiano didn’t miss the way she sang along to their cover of ‘Take Me Out’, obviously getting into the show more than previous nights. Knowing all the lyrics, dancing ever so slightly… Damiano realised he really had it bad for her.

He decided to go for it during “For your love”. With a pointed look towards her, he slowly started rolling off one arm of his jacket. Then the other. A little mock burlesque show of his own, dramatically shimmying his shoulders as he got rid of the jacket completely. The crowd more than appreciated his little performance, judging by their screams. The rest of the band was eating his energy up, playing harder, going crazier. As Damiano jogged over to grab some water, he didn’t miss the opportunity to turn his back towards Y/n, shaking his arse in a bad attempt at twerking. Turning back, he could see that she was desperately trying to bite back a smile. But he wasn’t done yet.

Making sure she was still looking at him, he began playing with his microphone. Giving it a teasing lick and sending her a wink at the same time. Watching her as he let his hand rest on his chest, slowly wandering lower with a teasing touch, until it rested in his lap. He only managed to keep it up for a second, before he couldn’t hold back the laugh at her expression anymore and turned back towards the audience.

But apparently, Y/n had some trick of her own. Well, it seemed like she wasn’t even aware of them, but they worked on Damiano all the same. She was taking her hair out of the pony tail for the night and he thought the way it cascaded around her face was beautiful. He felt like a movie cliche, watching as the main character let her hair down and everything suddenly happened in slow motion. Yet, here she was, trying to shove a bobby pin back into place, and he was losing his shit. He thought it was ridiculous though. The crazier her hair went, the crazier he went about her. She swayed to the music and for a second Damiano could swear time stood still.

I wonder if she likes her hair pulled… The thought distracted him to the point that he forgot what he was singing, quickly covering it up by animating the audience to sing it instead. He was glad to be nearing the end of the set. He’d never wish to go off stage, per se, but Y/n was once again occupying his thoughts and the way she was moving to the music now didn’t help.

Another song, another bow towards the audience, another well-practised “Danke!”, and they were off stage. Damiano briefly considered going over to Y/n, only to see Thomas basically chasing her away, threatening her with a sweaty hug. Her slightly panicked squeals proved she wasn’t a fan of the idea. He didn’t mind. He’d make sure there’d be more time to catch up with her later.

Briefly dropping into the dressing room, Damiano grabbed his cigarettes and a hoodie, before heading outside for a smoke. The backstage door led to a quieter alley than the famously busy Reeperbahn on the other end. But there were still more than a handful of people walking past, singing, dancing, shouting into the night, beer bottles in hand. It didn’t take long for everyone else to join him. Ethan headed outside first, bumming a cigarette off the singer, before Thomas and Victoria followed. They were once again involved in some sort of mock argument. Y/n stepped outside a minute later, phone in her hand, already back to work-mode and probably checking the plan for the next few days. Everyone was still on a high from the gig, chatting and giggling, but Damiano felt himself taking a step back. He loved watching his friends, loved what they did, loved that he got to do it with them. And now Y/n too, in a way. Not even a full week in and he knew that this tour wouldn’t have been the same without her.

He was rapidly pulled out of his thoughts as a group of men came towards them, obviously way past drunk. Yelling and hollering for no reason but to be annoying and get everyone’s attention. Damiano hated those kinds of drunks. In his experience they were nothing but trouble. He had half a mind to retreat back inside before they reached the group, but even in their inebriated stupor; they were quicker than expected.

“Now, who are these beautiful girls?” One of them slurred, stepping forward.

“Yeah! Bet you give a man a good time,” another one laughed loudly. “And a cheap one too.”

One of them was moving closer now, almost touching Victoria - but without even a moment to process what was happening, Y/n acted. Damiano watched, fascinated, as she grabbed the man’s extended hand, twisting it around his back and shoulder checking him into the brick wall of the alley. No second thought, no hesitation. Shouldn’t the men have been the one to react and take care of their girls? Well, it didn’t seem like Y/n was one to wait to be saved.

In a tone that he had never heard before - and neither had the rest of the band judging by their reactions - Y/n spoke, “You couldn’t afford me, mate. Or my friends. So I’d take your piss drunk self elsewhere, m’kay?”

The men were gone faster than lightning, stumbling to find their footing as they ran, only starting to comment on how she was a “fat fucking bitch” and how they “wouldn’t have wanted her anyway” when they were far enough away. Y/n wordlessly rejoined the group.

Damiano found himself releasing a breath. The whole scene had been over so quickly, he barely registered it. He wasn’t the only one either, he realised. As the other three kept staring at her, amazed and maybe slightly intimidated, while Y/n didn’t even react.

However, Damiano wasn’t just mesmerised by her behaviour. He was thrilled by her - in more ways than one. The way she had handled herself was downright hot. She was fierce, self-confident, and strong. He couldn’t keep himself from contemplating whether this was a side she would let out in the bedroom as well. Was she the type to take control? Order him around? Push him to a wall like she’d done that guy, only with very different intentions? He would be 100% okay with taking orders from her, he decided.

Y/n finally looked up from her phone, apparently feeling everyone’s stares on her.

“...What. I told you I worked security before.” She looked at Victoria, quietly asking her if she was alright. She simply nodded. Damiano still couldn’t keep his eyes off of their assistant. Damn, that woman had more to herself than she let on.

***

Damiano was still thinking about it an hour later. After everyone had gathered their stuff and gotten back to the hotel and split up into their rooms. After he’d gotten in the shower. His mind was still running wild. He quickly turned the water to cold, letting out a hiss at the change in temperature, but he knew he didn’t have the time or the privacy to do anything about his thoughts. Neither would he be knocking on Y/n’s door, desperate for some kind of attention.

Not tonight.

#maneskin fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david fiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #quiet music #bethanysnow #mywriting

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miy4bot · 4 years ago

Text

HQ boys and things they do

genre: fluff; romantic; domestic; gn!reader;

warnings: atsumu, hot guys waking you up, tendou on crack;

mornings are never boring with iwaizumi. he wakes up at 7 a.m and pulls you out of the blanket warmth to do his stretching routing together. never falls for your inarticulate mumbling. don’t even try.

sugawara lip syncs to "marry you" by bruno mars while looking directly into your eyes. after that he just smiles widely and turns around so you can't see how peachy his cheeks are.

when you and tsukishima fight he takes his 500 dollar four-foot tall tyrannosaurus rex and demonstratively hugs it. you probably didn't even know about its existence.

aone is trying real hard to not make any noises in early morning, but ends up spoiling everything. last time takanobu almost broke every plate in the house trying to get the pan out. no plates were harmed in the process, but the mess woke you up pretty fast.

nishinoya always brings home some strange decorative magnets from the countries he visits. when there's no any space left he suggests just buying another fridge.

when you lie on the couch and try to continue reading your book, akaashi comes to spoon you, burying his nose in the crook of your neck, while processing the plot. for some reason, he already knows beforehead every plot twist.

terushima suggests helping you to relax with scalp massage. he makes his way to sofa, puts your head on his lap and gently rubs his fingers through your hair. maybe being hair stylist wasn’t the worst idea after all.

hinata makes you come late to any event you're going just because he has the audacity to not let you leave the bed. shoyo pouts cutely and continues wrapping himself around you, waiting for your surrender.

after coming back from practice, all stinky and nasty, atsumu tries to find some comfort in you and whine loudly when you tell him to not even exists near you until he's clean and showered. definitely drags you into bathtub. to accompany, you know.

yamaguchi always wants to practice making cute hairstyles on your hair. once he brought home some cute-ass flower & butterflies hairpins and how could you say no, when he's so enthusiastic about it?

sakusa loves laying on your stomach. whenever you're watching TV, doing work or just vibing he rests his head on your tummy, lazily rubbing circles on your thigh.

tendou sends you cursed memes at 4 a.m and adds an audio of him laughing for one minute straight. it never makes sense, but it can cheer up your mood, i guess.

taglist: @oof-she-needs-therapy @imconfusedanditsok

#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi x reader #sugawara x reader #tsukishima x reader #aone x reader #nishinoya x reader #akaashi x reader #terushima x reader #hinata x reader #atsumu x reader #yamaguchi x reader #sakusa x reader #tendou x reader #haikyuu fluff

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totallycorrectteentitansquotes · 5 years ago

Note

More inconveniences plz? They are cool to read :)

this is referring to this post with power inconveniences (i’m assuming) and i reread it to refresh and bro past me is so big brained look at me go

anyway

cyborg has this thing where he can turn off the feeling in his fingers, so he only has the limb/body sense (so his fingers aren’t like, numb) but not the specifics, so he can just grab hot things out of the oven without needing an oven mitt. he does, however, forget to flip the switch to No Feeling before grabbing things. this causes. issues. as one might imagine.

he does get phantom pain in his cyber limbs

when its rlly stormy out he’ll sometimes shock people rather violently on accident

most fridge magnets stick to him. raven discovered this and cyborg walked around with a magnet that said “dishes clean/dirty” and starfire and robin had a BLAST in their attempts to flip it without cyborg knowing

sometimes if cyborg is sleeping on the couch then starfire will decorate him with glittery magnets, many of them self made from stuff she found in cyborg’s room

he makes magnetic remotes and stuff so he can “summon” them to his hand though and bb is jealous

speaking of bb

when he’s startled he’ll turn into something small

once robin jumped him from the top of a doorway. bb shrieked and turned into a butterfly, causing robin to faceplant on the ground

sometimes he’ll think he has a tail when he doesn’t or forgets he has a tail when he does and has, unironically, chased his tail as a dog. cyborg never lets him live it down

when he’s feeling particularly bratty he’ll turn into a bird and SCREECH. especially at early hours. if HES awake then THEY are awake and he is now their problem

raven hates direct sunlight and her pale skin means that she is very susceptible to burns. she also hates the feeling of sunscreen and, as you can imagine, those do not mix. there’s a reason she stays under an umbrella when they go to the beach

she hyperfocuses like crazy when she’s reading, all the books floating around her, but if someone breaks her focus books will fall and they have fallen on her head before. this has happened with robin and cyborg and they both cried laughing

sometimes she shadow teleports into a room and sees things she would rather Not See. at least with doors the other person KNOWS she’s coming

listen, starfire can do her, but raven, personally, is not so liberal with cleaning things with her TONGUE

sometimes robin will sit on top of doors and get testy when people move the door. like they get it, he doesnt like being moved, but also doors are for OPENING, robin, WHAT ARE YOU–

robin leaves his weapons absolutely everywhere. sure, “easy access”. tell that to cyborg who accidentally sat on a birdarang that exploded and caused cyborg to need to repair at least 30% of his body

beast boy: ooh what’s this do–

every other titan, wordlessly taking a step back:

this is already so long rip starfire i’ll do some quick for her

if she spends too much time in the sun (self care) her skin Burns. shes a little radiator. but ouchie

when she’s excited about something sometimes she’ll bonk her head on the ceiling because she started flying much higher than intended

they figured out that in verryyy specific voltages her power can charge phones. there have been Many Casualties

robin, taking more money from bruce wayne’s bank account:

cyborg: are you sure this is fine

robin: yah totally

cyborg:

cyborg: in that case can you buy me super expensive part it’s vital to my continued functioning–

#long post #anonymous #teen titans headcanons #the squad #whoops got a little carried away #not a quote #Anonymous

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noisycowboyglitter · 6 months ago

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jasonbehrs · 3 years ago

Photo

let me be your guarantee

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

"You could stand to be a bit more selfish, you know."

"You could stand to be a bit more courteous in general, so I guess we both have things we need to work on."

fandom: kpop, super junior characters: ryeowook, kyuhyun ship: kyuwook genre: friendship, romance themes: genderbent, rule 63, high school, a day in the life, fluff (arguable) word count: 5.2k

read it below or on ffnet, wattpad, aff, or (new!) ao3

A/N (8.27.2021): I have no heterosexual explanation for the effects Ryeowook and Kyuhyun in drag have on me (or my creative process, evidently).

Rating for mildly suggestive language and graphic depictions of geometry. Title comes from Poster Girl by the Backstreet Boys. Cover art made by me. Thanks to Amy for the beta! (Even though you're already so over high school, haha.)

Uploading this as part of kyuwook month on twitter! I actually was gonna publish it wayyy back on July 21, but I waited so I could participate in ryeonamickyuo's #kyuwooksaturdays event on twitter lol. #marketing

~~~

A soothing chime alarm wakes Ryeowook up before dawn. She lets herself stretch in bed, enjoying the warm comfort of her blankets for a moment longer before getting up for a shower. She changes into the outfit she had prepared the night before: a sparkly white sweater and a pink skirt fluffed with tulle, and she painstakingly dries and curls her long lavender hair just the way she likes it before applying some light makeup. After scrutinising her appearance for another minute, she decides to add a small braid to her hair for fun.

With ease and minimal noise, Ryeowook flits through the kitchen to make enough breakfast for her and her parents. She's feeling like sweet potatoes and tofu this morning. She leaves her parents' portions in the oven to stay warm before serving herself, and she mentally checks through yesterday's to-do list to make sure she's all set for today while she chews.

Her homework is printed and neatly filed in their own plastic sleeves as a sustainable alternative to staples.

The cinnamon rolls she made the night before, with a small batch of gluten-free versions set aside, are individually packed in a tin waiting in the fridge.

After she brushes her teeth and puts on her silver flats, she'll be all ready for the walk to school.

Satisfied with her preparations, Ryeowook hums softly to herself as she washes the dishes after eating. With the sink by the kitchen window, she is able to catch the first rays of sunlight streak across the brightening sky, and she smiles. Today is going to be a good day.

~~~

Today is already a shit day.

The alarm blares once again after snoozing it for the third time just as someone bangs on her door, and the annoying sunlight shining through her bedroom window manages to directly hit her eyes. Kyuhyun frowns into her pillow. She was having an excellent dream about kimchi ramen that is already slipping out of her grasp the more she joins the land of the conscious.

She spares a second to flip the bird in Ahra's direction, knowing full well her older sister won't see it through the closed door, before rummaging through her unruly closet for whatever passes the sniff test. She changes into a pleather bodycon skirt (just long enough to meet the school's dress code, but no longer) and a long-sleeve red crop top in a half-awake daze.

Kyuhyun offhandedly recalls she left her homework in the printer last night. Hopefully she remembers to stuff that in her bag before she leaves.

Not one for morning showers, she simply runs a brush through her silky blonde hair a few times just to get the birds' nests out, wipes the oil off her face, and swipes on a thick cat eye to complete her look.

At the breakfast table, Kyuhyun eats in silence while ignoring the looks her dad gives her, no doubt at her mildly revealing outfit. She gives him a side hug anyway before leaving her dishes in the sink for later. She finishes her morning routine, grabs her keys and homework, and shuts the door behind her when she leaves for school.

~~~

Ryeowook cheerily pushes open the school doors with plenty of time left before the first bell. Instead of her locker, she walks purposefully through the hallways for the principal's office.

"Good morning, Ryeowook!" the matronly receptionist-cum-secretary greets when she sees Ryeowook sweep in.

"Good morning, Mrs. Oh!" Ryeowook chirps. "How has your hypoglycemia been treating you?" she asks as she gathers the paperwork she needs for her homeroom duties.

"Probably better if I remembered to eat breakfast in the mornings," Mrs. Oh responds with good humour, pushing her butterfly-themed sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose.

"I thought you might say that," Ryeowook says while rummaging through her bag. "Here, I made these last night. It's gluten-free, and you can't even tell!" She offers a cinnamon roll from her tin, and she smiles at the way Mrs. Oh lights up at the sight.

"Oh, Ryeowook! You're such a dear!" Mrs. Oh effuses.

Ryeowook bows in acknowledgement and waves goodbye, the papers for homeroom loose in her hand. She finally makes her way to her locker—the inside decorated with magnets, pictures, and a helpful calendar—so that she can get the books she'll need for all her pre-lunch classes.

In the hallways, she is greeted at every turn.

"Hey, Ryeowook! I hope you had a great weekend!" "I did, thanks! Happy Monday!"

"Oh my god, your outfit is completely adorable. It really brings out the lavender of your hair." "Wow, you think? I'll invest in more pink then~"

"Thanks so much for helping with the banner last week! It was a hit at our event; everyone wanted a photo with it." "No problem; I'm so glad to hear that! Like I always say, there's no such thing as too much glitter!"

These microtransactions of joy she gets while walking through the halls energise her like nothing else. She loves being helpful and knowing people care about her enough to say hi. It makes her life as a member of the school's community and as a student leader so fulfilling.

She makes it into homeroom with a minute to spare, sets her stuff at her desk, then places the tin of cinnamon rolls on the teachers' desk for everyone's enjoyment.

The bell rings, and the wattage turns up on her smile. "Good morning!" she calls out, easily cutting through the chatter with her high and bright voice. "There are cinnamon rolls at the front for everyone. Feel free to grab some while I take attendance. The ones swirled in a clockwise pattern are gluten free, so please save them for those with that dietary restriction!"

The typical gratitudes spill out—"Oh my god, these taste amazing." "You're so thoughtful, Ryeowook!" "Please marry me."—and she preens at the praise as she goes down the list in her hand.

It isn't until she gets to a specific name near the top, until she doesn't hear the typical 'Present!' that should follow, that she gives her first frown of the day.

She quickly shakes it off and finishes up, returning to her seat with every intention to rehearse her presentation one more time before the bell ending homeroom rings.

~~~

Kyuhyun steps into school right after the warning bell for first period rings, and she seamlessly joins the throngs of people hustling to their first class.

Well, she would join them, if there were throngs to join. Students stop in their tracks and fall silent as soon as they sense her presence, causing nearby students to quiet in confusion then in understanding such that a bubble of non-motion and non-noise follows her as she walks. The typical morning chatter resumes at a lowered volume from a safe distance of six feet behind her, and she is vain enough to presume at least 40% of those conversations are about her.

The stares go unacknowledged of course. So do the hapless love declarations from desperate freshmen and presumptive date offers from cocky upperclassmen. They might as well have said, "Kyuhyun, I bet you don't have better things to do with your time than stroke my ego and go dutch on an oily dinner at a chain restaurant after school." As if.

While leaving another potential suitor in the dust, a janitor accidentally turns on an industrial fan facing her direction just as she takes off her sunglasses. Coupled with the paused state of her classmates, her languid pace through the hall looks like a slow-motion runway walk that even Naomi Campbell in her prime would envy.

Kyuhyun's locker is empty save for the jacket she just shoved into it, then she goes straight to her first class of the day. She slides into her seat—not all the way in the back; cliche, much?—and, as if on cue, the whispers start.

"Do you think her hair is natural?' "Of course not, look at her eyebrows." "She could be dyeing her eyebrows!"

"I heard she drives to school? I thought only third-years and up were allowed to do that!" "I don't think allowances are all it takes to stop someone like her."

"Cho Kyuhyun in red should be one of the seven deadly sins." "That sin already exists, and it's called 'lust,' bro." "No no no no no. There's lust, and there's Cho Kyuhyun in red."

Strangers referring to you by your full name in some sort of layman's equivalent of a celebrity mononym has such a satisfying, powerful feel to it. Alas, save for a sly smirk, these too are ignored.

The smirk is promptly wiped off her face as soon as the teacher walks in, as if their life's greatest joy is teaching 16 year-olds about Korean peninsular history at 8:30 in the morning, and Kyuhyun already lolls her head back in disinterest.

~~~

Ryeowook snaps her hand up, a lone beacon of preparedness in a sea of bored or anxious faces.

"Thanks for volunteering, Ryeowook! Whenever you're ready." The teacher gestures to the podium with a sweep of their hands, pleased with the student's enthusiasm.

Ryeowook flounces out of her seat to the front of the classroom and loads up her presentation on the laptop hooked up to the projector. "S.E.S. as a Pop Culture Juggernaut" appears on screen in bold letters, and the subtle sounds of rustling fill the classroom as students sit up in interest.

"Good morning, everyone! Today I'm going to present on the seminal idol girl group S.E.S. Through interdisciplinary and anthropological analysis, I will illustrate how the mark they've left on Korean culture at the time of their debut carries ripple effects on the entertainment industry that can be observed to this day."

She takes a moment to look over the surprised and interested faces of her classmates and teacher, then smiles internally. She's going to crush this.

She clicks to the next slide. "S.E.S. is a girl group that debuted in 1997 under SM Entertainment. That may seem like a fairly innocuous sentence on its own; in which case, I'll inform you that they are the first girl group ever debuted in K-pop history…"

When the class learned their Forensics and Communication midterm assignment would be free-form, many of her classmates asked if she'd partner with them for a debate. Their topics were interesting enough. She would have customarily had little problem arguing on the cost-benefit analysis of a college education or the validity of prison sentences served overseas (to name a few).

But she graciously turned them all down. In her heart, she knew she'd simply enjoy it more if she gave a presentation on something more personal… and studies show passion for your work drives results. She expects nothing less than an A+.

Thanks to the confident excitement lacing her voice and a powerpoint that took her two weeks to perfect, she handily grabs the interest and attention of every student in the class, even the ones typically uninterested in idol culture. She winds up leading the class in a discussion on the inherent greater interest the Korean general public reserves for girl groups in contrast to the supersaturated boy band market, and the teacher has to regretfully cut them short to allow for the other midterm assignments that had to be seen that day.

"Thanks again, Ryeowook, for that illuminating and impassioned presentation! Why don't we keep that energy going, hmm? I know it may seem like a tough act to follow, but who's ready to present next?"

Expecting the worst, the teacher is pleasantly surprised when a majority of the class raises their hands to volunteer. The teacher looks over at Ryeowook and sends a quick wink in thanks, and Ryeowook gives a thumbs up in acknowledgement.

~~~

Kyuhyun clicks 'downvote' on a thread in the r/poppunk subreddit. As if Retrieve Me the Skyline has anything on Querying Quinn.

Just then, she senses a presence walk up to her desk. She lifts her eyes up from her phone—hidden behind an obviously strategically upright notebook in a semblance of respect for the teacher—to find said teacher looking at her disapprovingly. She sighs without remorse and puts her cellphone away, not one to fight once she's caught red-handed.

"Thank you, Ms. Cho. Now, as I was saying: Just like how Korean borrows from Chinese and English words, English borrows words from many other cultures. This is part of why their grammar rules are so inconsistent. Therefore, it may be helpful to learn the etymology of certain words to reinforce these rules. For example, 'geese' is the plural form of 'goose' because 'goose' was borrowed from German, and Proto-Germanic grammar does allow for plural forms for their nouns. On the other hand, 'moose' does not pluralise to 'meese' because it was borrowed from an Indigenous American language which did not pluralise their nouns."

Kyuhyun barely has the presence of mind to suppress a groan. If this is supposed to be an English class, why is the teacher talking about German all of a sudden? She isn't gaining any more while paying attention as she was while scrolling on her phone! This is why she doesn't bother. It would take her less time and less effort to simply read the textbook.

Honestly, that's how she usually spends her classes. She's not against learning necessarily—if she has to be here, she might as well—but she is against the fluff shit that most teachers feel the need to sprinkle in to keep people's attention or reinforce learning. If it's not going to be on the national exam at the end of the year, it's just a waste of time.

It doesn't help that Kyuhyun's a whole league above the mouthbreathers in this high school anyway. What other people need several hours of studying to understand sinks in for her after a single lecture. She has the makings to be every teacher's dream student, but she's made it very clear: Don't make her participate in class, and she won't eviscerate their self-esteem in exchange. It's an elegant system with an 87.5% success rate.

As her schedule has it, the only class where it doesn't work is her next one. The phys ed grade is almost entirely predicated on participation; and unfortunately for her, the venn diagram of men who have already had their insecurities abused to the point of desensitisation by their superiors during conscription and men who decide to become high school PE teachers seems to be a circle.

Her solution for this class is admittedly less elegant.

Even as the next period is just about to begin and the halls thin out, Kyuhyun still manages to easily breeze past the bumbling office receptionist trying to prevent her from leaving the grounds during school hours.

(Hey, she's gonna get a 0 for participation whether she's wasting time sitting on the bleachers and bored out of her mind or whether she's going to the mall to grab the new Napping with Nixies album. Might as well do the fun one. Bonus: instead of paying the Korean public school system for the rehydrated prison rations they consider 'food,' she can grab lunch at the foodcourt!)

~~~

Ryeowook spends her lunch period like a jetsetting CEO, the precious few minutes taken up by meetings with various teachers, students, and—today—even an administrator.

"Thanks so much for taking the time to meet with me, Ryeowook."

"Of course, Mr. Park! I'm happy to represent the needs of my class. Let me know if I can help with this initiative again later once it gains more momentum."

"I certainly will. Have a good rest of your day, Ms. Kim," Mr. Park replies warmly, his deep voice and barrel-chested physique radiating authority and paternity.

The administrator walks her out of his office, and they bow to each other at the door. The clock in the hallway tells her there is barely any time to make it to the cafeteria and eat a meal, so she sighs and resignedly walks back to her locker to exchange her books with the ones she'd need for her post-lunch classes.

She remembers there is a vending machine along the way to her next classroom, so she pivots her route slightly so that she can pick up a granola bar and a bottle of water. They'll be easy to finish before class starts.

"You know, you'd have time to eat a real lunch and attend your precious meetings if they just expanded our lunch hour to be an actual hour," a voice says from behind her just as she feeds a paper bill into the machine.

"I don't mind. It means we have more time spent in our classes."

She bends at the knee to retrieve her purchases then gracefully hops back up to twirl on her heel, steadfastly ignoring the other's presence as she continues on her way.

"I think we can definitely stand to spend less time in class. Come on; we already sacrifice the most formative years of our lives confined to these 'hallowed halls,' and they can't even let us digest our meals properly?" her nuisance heckles as Ryeowook is followed.

"I bet the Student Council would love to have an impassioned, opinionated person such as yourself on the panel. If you have ideas for change, you're free to share them with people who are empowered to do something about it," Ryeowook comments mildly, gaze trained forward even as the other pulls up beside her.

"The student council is a mockery of democracy and only serves as a mere figurehead for the students' collective political and bartering power to the school administration, and you know it."

Finally, Ryeowook stops. She squares her shoulders and looks her antagoniser in the eye. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mock an extracurricular about which I'm very passionate to my face, Kyuhyun-ssi."

The taller smirks. "As much as you'd appreciate time to sit and eat lunch with your friends for once?"

They are not alone in the hallway they've entered into. With an almost imperceptible turn of her head, Ryeowook can even see some students eavesdropping on their conversation, eager to hypothesise with their friends what the two most popular girls in school yet for completely opposite reasons are doing talking to each other.

"Hey, isn't that Kim Ryeowook?" "Talking to Cho Kyuhyun?" "Hold up, they know each other?"

If she could hear them, then they could certainly hear her, and that reminder is enough to reign in her annoyance. She allows herself ten seconds to collect her composure.

When she speaks again, her voice is airy and pleasant. "Well, if that's all, I have to go and spend what's left of my lunch period doing something a little more constructive than arguing with someone who'd rather complain than make the best of a situation. If you'll excuse me."

"You should have gotten fig newtons!" Kyuhyun calls as Ryeowook moves around her. Ryeowook counts it as a small blessing that the other does not follow. "They're easier to eat in class! Less noisy."

"You're not allowed to eat food in class," Ryeowook retorts plainly without even turning her head.

She can feel the other's eyes on her as she walks away, but she ignores it as she takes a swig of her water.

(She finishes her bar before crossing the threshold of the classroom, arriving before even the teacher does and finding a half of a sandwich wrap from the deli across the street waiting on her desk.)

~~~

The surface of Kyuhyun's desk is empty save for her arms and elbows organised to support her languid daydreaming. Outside the window, she watches as three red cars pass by.

More so than her other subjects, math just makes sense to her without even trying. There's less up for interpretation, there are consistent and logical rules, and patterns are clearer with numbers.

If she doesn't need to try, then why would she? So she hands in passable attempts at homework, texts throughout lecture, and is generally unresponsive during the class. Ms. Kang would love nothing more than to suspend her for insubordination and churlishness; but Kyuhyun is her best student by far, and they both know it.

"If the altitude of right triangle ABC intersects with the hypotenuse at D, what equation is always true?"

In fact, Kyuhyun would want to skip this class too, but there's just something about its specific learning environment that keeps her attending lesson after lesson.

In her periphery, the student in front of her and one row over hurriedly draws out the question in her notebook to analyse it. She raises her hand in excitement a moment later.

"Yes, Ryeowook?" "AD over AC is equal to AC over BD!"

Kyuhyun suppresses a scoff. The teacher smiles sympathetically, knowing that Ryeowook is doing her best, and says, "Sorry, but no."

Ryeowook pouts. "Aigoooo," she intones as she looks back at her drawing, no doubt trying to understand where she went wrong.

Encouraged by Ryeowook's attempt, more students try their hand at the problem.

"AC over AD equals BD over BC?" "Nope."

"AD over CD equals DB over CD!" "If you bothered to write that down, you'd immediately see why that cannot possibly be the correct answer."

The class lapses into silence, and Ms. Kang begins calling out desperately. "Anyone? Anyone else?" When it was apparent no one else knew the answer, she sighs. "Kyuhyun?"

"AD over AC is equal to CD over BC," she recites boredly, gaze still trained beyond the window. Forget being capable of immediately answering a direct question; if anyone had been observing her during this lesson, they would have thought she wasn't even paying attention at all.

"That is correct," the teacher admits begrudgingly. "Remember class, due to the AA Similarity Postulate…"

Kyuhyun lets the teacher's words drift in one ear and out the other, heeding no further sounds until the bell rings.

The end of the school day is finally upon them.

As much as she looks forward to this point every day, she sits in her chair and lets every other student file out first before packing her things. She's in no rush.

Kyuhyun drops her bookbag off at her locker and wanders the halls aimlessly instead, spending extra time in the art corridor to see the latest student works. The freshmen are working on watercolours, apparently.

After an unfortunate encounter in the bathroom, she beelines for the cafeteria, which happens to be in a completely other building, and runs into the second-to-last person she wants to see right now.

"What are you still doing here, Ms. Cho?" Mr. Park asks with suspicion.

"Just hanging out," she says with a shrug.

"I know you refuse to partake in any of our extracurriculars, but don't you have something better to do than loiter? I'm sure you have homework or some such."

"Maybe if this school started offering a curriculum that actually required me to reinforce what I learned at home, I would."

Mr. Park's eyes narrow in contempt. "Whatever delinquent nonsense you're up to, do it outside of my high school!" he bellows.

Kyuhyun's phone buzzes in her hand just then, and she uses the same hand to offer a sarcastic salute. "Your wish, Mr. Park," she offers in parting before rushing as fast as she can to her locker. She can't wait to get home.

~~~

When her home's doorbell rings its seasonal chime, Ryeowook is several pages deep into her biology packet. She begrudgingly sets down her work and gets up to look out the window.

Her view is exasperating.

"You weren't in homeroom this morning… again," she says in lieu of a greeting, walking back to where she was doing homework in the living room after letting in the guest.

"Babe, don't be like that," the guest whines while she takes off her shoes. "You know that homeroom is a gigantic waste of time. It's just Big Academia's way of—"

"—'Training students to get used to being herded like cattle,' yeah yeah. Tell it to someone who cares."

"Oh? This isn't a suggestion I should take to your precious student council?"

"I don't have time for you right now. I have a whole biology packet to complete before I can start baking," Ryeowook says as she waves said packet in the air for emphasis.

Kyuhyun pouts with her whole face. "Why bother letting me over if you're not even going to pay attention to me!"

Ryeowook sighs and repositions her laptop to rest on the arm of the couch, invitation unspoken. Kyuhyun drops her petulant act immediately and happily trods over to stretch out on the couch and rest her head on her girlfriend's lap. She wiggles in place to get comfortable and pulls out her phone. Ryeowook's typing provides a light, inconsistent soundtrack to her mindless scrolling; and it feels nice.

"How'd your presentation go?" she asks after a while.

"I almost accidentally commandeered the whole period because people were so excited about my topic." Ryeowook tried going for deadpan, but the pride in her voice was unmistakable.

"Well, duh. No one can listen to you talk about something you're interested in and stay indifferent."

"Yeah, it's cool how emotions are infectious," Ryeowook comments offhandedly.

"Sure, but I meant specifically you. You're, like, the most passionate person I know. I bet you had the best topic out of anyone there, anyway."

Ryeowook doesn't reply, but Kyuhyun cranes her neck just enough to watch a grateful and pleased smile cross the other's face.

Satisfied with how awesome of a girlfriend she is, she keeps going. "Did you like the wrap?"

Kyuhyun can somehow feel the change a split-second before she hears it. "It was delicious; thank you; and never do it again," Ryeowook responds with a clipped tone.

Kyuhyun rolls her eyes. "Stop sacrificing your lunch time for things that can be handled over email, and maybe I will."

"I meant skipping class; and don't even try to deny it!" Ryeowook adds as soon as she hears Kyuhyun's sharp intake of breath in preparation for a non-sequitur argument. "I know you. You thought to do it only because you passed by the deli on your way back from wherever truant kids spend their time."

"Napping with Nixies released a new album," Kyuhyun defends.

"And the store would have still had copies for you to buy during the weekend," Ryeowook retorts.

"First day sales are important, Ryeowook!"

"So is your education, Kyuhyun!" Ryeowook parrots back in the same whining tone.

"Spoken like a true cog in Big Academia's machine."

"This sentence probably won't make sense to a self-inflicted lone wolf, but collaboration happens best in person. And I prefer a small lunch anyway." Ryeowook tacks on that last bit like an afterthought. Kyuhyun might have believed her, except she's seen the way Ryeowook packs for picnic dates and knows that statement to be patently untrue.

"You could stand to be a bit more selfish with your time, you know."

"You could stand to be a bit more courteous in general, so I guess we both have things we need to work on," Ryeowook fires back easily.

Kyuhyun strikes the couch with her arms in offense. "I'm plenty courteous! I bought you lunch 'cause I knew you wouldn't have had a real meal otherwise!"

"I meant to people that aren't me!" Ryeowook clarifies exasperatedly.

"Hmph. People that aren't you don't deserve it. It's like Kanye-sunbaenim says: 'Asshole to the world but never to your girl.'"

"… I don't know what's worse: that I'm dating a girl that gets her love advice from Kanye West or the fact that I had to hear the phrase 'Kanye-sunbaenim' with my own two ears."

"Well, what if I told you I also get my life advice from Kimmy K-unnie? That way it counts as women empowerment. Don't you like that kind of stuff?"

Ryeowook finally tears her focus away from her work to eye Kyuhyun incredulously.

Kyuhyun innocently looks up through her eyelashes to meet the other's gaze. "Well if you're not into what I'm posting, don't look."

Mercilessly, Ryeowook shoves Kyuhyun off her lap. "Goodbye," she says as she places her laptop back on her folded legs.

Kyuhyun scrambles up from the floor and looks at the laptop with thinly veiled disdain and jealousy. "Let me back!"

"Not until you're nicer to people."

"I'm nice to people! Today, I heard Yom Syejin gossipping in the bathroom that the only way I could have avoided detention this year is by blowing Mr. Park, and I managed to walk away without dunking her head in the toilet. That seems plenty nice to me."

"Excuse me, Yom Syejin said what?!"

Ah shit, Kyuhyun knew she shouldn't have said anything. This is what she gets for thinking humourous delivery is enough to mask unfortunate content.

"Really, it's not a big deal. I handled it," Kyuhyun maintains.

"I'm sure you did, honey. Come on, help me bake some snickerdoodles," Ryeowook says as she immediately heads into the kitchen.

This would be an excellent idea, except that Kyuhyun can clearly see Ryeowook's biology packet is still unfinished and that Ryeowook's tone of voice sounded disingenuously peppy.

~~~

Ryeowook makes it into homeroom the next day with a minute to spare, sets her stuff at her desk, then places a tin of snickerdoodles on the teachers' desk for everyone's enjoyment.

The bell rings, and the wattage turns up on her smile. "Good morning!" she calls out, easily cutting through the chatter with her high and bright voice. "There are snickerdoodles at the front for everyone. Feel free to grab some while I take attendance. I didn't have time last night to make as many as I wanted to, so I evenly divided the batch into goodie bags for you all! I wrote your names on them too, so please only take one. I'll know if you don't," she faux-threatens with a cute wink.

The typical gratitudes spill out—"You're the best!" "Thanks, Ryeowook!" "Please marry me?"—and she preens at the praise as she goes down the list in her hand.

It isn't until she notices one person in particular eagerly grabbing her designated bag that Ryeowook lets a private smile cross her face.

~~~

from: Kyuhyun-ssi (Geometry) oh my god yom skank-jin just bolted out of my english class like the new galaxy was on sale tf?

from: wookie💜 Maybe if you bothered attending homeroom this morning, you'd have an answer to your crudely-phrased question.

from: Kyuhyun-ssi (Geometry) oh my god what did you do

from: wookie💜 Did you know Syejinnie's favourite cookies are snickerdoodles?

from: Kyuhyun-ssi (Geometry) OH MY GOD WHAT DID YOU DO

from: wookie💜 Bathrooms are for shitting, not shit-talking.

from: Kyuhyun-ssi (Geometry) i am madly in love with you

from: wookie💜 Stop texting me and pay attention in class!

from: wookie💜 And I love you too 💛

~~~

A/N (8.27.2021): Thanks for reading! To prove my thanks, here is fanart that almost made it into the cover photo.

#super junior #super junior fanfiction #kyuwook #kyuhyun #ryeowook #cho kyuhyun #kim ryeowook #jaso*

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astraeagreengrass · 5 years ago

Text

The Best One

Summary: Chris Beck wakes on the morning of December 13th to a little surprise

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader

Word Count: 1.906

Warnings: Just fluff and Chris Beck - that man should have a warning of his own! English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

A/N: This is my submission to @interestedbystanderwrites 12 Days of Christmas Drabbles! My prompt was "December 13: Think about last Christmas. How was your life different then? How is it the same?" with our precious space boy Chris Beck. Thank you Cass for hosting this amazing challenge and allowing me to participate! ♡

My masterlist

Christopher Beck, astronaut, renowned doctor and flight surgeon of the Ares III mission to Mars woke on the morning of December 13th to the loud sound of something big toppling to the ground.

He grumbled into his pillow before raising his head, a dark mop of chocolate curls shielding indigo eyes from the soft morning light. The digital clock on his night stand let him now it was a little past seven - way too early to be awake.

His bed was cold. One body was not enough to keep it cozy the way he liked it and he wondered where his bedmate could be at such an ungodly hour. Remembering the noise coming from the living room, Chris abandoned the last remnants of his slumber and rose.

He had a stupid grin on his face as he made his way down the stairs. After nearly three years in space and over a month of recovery therapy, he was finally home. His house, his bedroom, his clothes on the closet, his ring on his fiancée’s left hand. It had been four weeks and she would still find him playing with the magnets on the fridge debating whether he should order pizza from the place that opened while he was away or just go to Target again.

Chris Beck was, by definition, shy. He’d never been one to excel at socializing or enjoy crowded spaces. Now, after all the time he’s spend interacting with only five other people, he was making conversation with Mrs. Baldwin, his elderly neighbor or calling his distant cousin in Japan in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep. Even the cold couldn’t stop him when he just needed to go to the mall because “he missed so much on fashion”.

The joy of his life, however, would always be you.

And you were currently surrounded by an explosion of Christmas decorations.

A Christmas tree laid fallen halfway across the living room - so that was the source of the noise. A rich assortment of ornaments were strewn on the couch, lazily spilling to the floor: balls, pendants, ribbons, string lights and a beautiful gold star. A garland hung above the fireplace and, on the mantel, were two red stockings: one for Chris and one for you.

Scratching his head he yawned, taking in the mess. You hadn’t noticed him yet, too busy trying to get the tree to stand back up. Still in your pajamas, fuzzy pink socks on your feet, you were perfect to go back to bed and cuddle him until noon. Then you could start whatever decorating business you wanted.

“Baby?” he called for you, voice still a little hoarse from sleeping.

Chris’ voice startled you. You lost your grip on the Christmas tree and it fell again, a whoosh of fake leaves and metal clanking on the floor. Turning around, you were disheartened to find your fiancée awake and your Christmas surprise ruined.

“Oh no!” you exclaimed, running to him and covering his eyes with your hands. “You were supposed to be asleep.”

“What…? Sweetheart, what the hell?”

Chris tried to free his gaze, but you were persistent, leading him back to the upper floor with one hand over his eyes and the other on his back, guiding him on the steps.

“I can’t believe you’re up so early. You absolutely cannot be here right now!”

“But why?” he whined as if he were a baby and not a 30-something man who’s been to actual space.

“It’s the first Christmas you’re spending at home in so long! I’ll be damned if it’s not perfect.”

You had reached your bedroom now. Yours - finally yours again rather than just your own. The air even smelled different, like it did when you first moved in to this house and you and Chris made it your home. Then he had to leave and it became too big for you and the loneliness that grew roots in his absence. You would never tell him how much you hated his job, and NASA and the over 900 days you slept in a bed without him, in a bedroom that was supposed to be his as well. However you would give him an unforgettable Christmas to celebrate his return, even if it mean leaving said bedroom early in the morning to set up the decorations.

Chris sat on his side of the bed. His t-shirt was rumpled and just the thought of snuggling to him under the covers, inhaling his scent on the soft cotton, brought butterflies to your stomach. A single ringlet of hair fell over his forehead - it was getting longer and shaggy now. Yesterday he jokingly said he was of thinking of letting it grow and asked if you'd still walk down the aisle to him if he looked like that guy from the Marvel movies.

You just laughed. He knew you'd marry him even if he was wearing his astronaut suit.

“Stay” Chris whispered, gently tugging on your pants.

You sighed, eyes fluttering shut. You knew if you looked at him - your soft lover, so at peace and at home - you’d cave, Christmas surprise be damned.

“I wanted to surprise you with the best Christmas ever.”

“It’s already the best one, sweetheart. I’m home.”

That sly motherfu-

You opened one eye and caught him grinning. Of course he was.

You huffed then threw yourself on the bed right on top of him. Life with Chris Beck had it’s assurances - you knew he could always trick you with more hours of sleep; he knew you would always give in to his charm; the universe knew you’d throw yourself at him and he’d catch you: warm hands under your shirt, swift arms rolling you over so he could kiss you better.

When Chris fell asleep again, he dreamed of a bright July morning, daisies blooming on the front porch and the clearest blue sky. The Christmas decorations would make way for white linen towels and champagne flutes, but the string lights would stay, hanging from the backyard trees lighting up the way for you, his bride. Even in his dreams, Christopher Beck longed for the summer, for your white gown and your new ring, finally on your right hand.

For now, he would let you throw the biggest, most extravagant Christmas party you could possibly come up with. You were doing it for his sake, and he would play along for yours. Indeed, he missed too much, but nothing as much as he missed you.

#chris beck #chris beck fanfiction #chris beck x reader #chris beck x you #interestedbystander12days #the martian #Sebastian Stan #christopher beck #cornelia barnes #my writing

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simple-heroics · 5 years ago

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Class 1-A Girls as Roommates

Oh, my god, they were roommates

Momo Yaoyorozu

First of all, you lucky bastard I hate you. Secondly, I’d like to make the point that Momo is wealthy af and has no financial need of a roommate. So, if you two are living, you’re probably already great friends with her or more.

Momo loves to share. She is an extremely generous person, so she'll totally offer you some of her food when she cooks and even some of her shower products.

Totally lets you borrow her clothes. Different sizes? She's gotchoo! Can and will create the best clothes for you. This is especially helpful if you have a date.

Speaking of her Quirk, its usefulness becomes really apparent when you two first move in and are still figuring out where things are or what you still need for the house. Bought that knife set but somehow forgot a can opener? Momo’s gotchoo again.

A great communicator and takes the initiative to make sure you guys are on the same page about chores. Despite her busy hero career, Momo still does a great job keeping up with her fair share.

Please sit and drink tea with her. She'd love it. Probably the best thing about being Momo's roommate is coming home at the end of the day to this beautiful woman omg are you're okay with just being roommates and catching up over cups of freshly brewed tea.

If something happens and you’re unable to pa your rent one month, Momo can cover it. Will not guilt or shame you over this. No matter what kind of petty roommate argument you two might have, she will never hold that over your head. Ever. Things happen, and Momo understands that.

The not so great...

Yaomomo is such a sweetie but...she's also a rich girl who is used to a lot space. Her furniture will fill up the whole apartment. An entire kitchen cabinet is stuffed to the brim with her teas, so you'd have to find some other space to shove your cereal.

Nonetheless, she tries very hard to be a good roommate - especially if it's her first place after moving out of her parents' house/school dorms - and this sometimes leads to her being overly accommodating. That and the above can lead to some tension between you two.

Momo has such long, beautiful hair...and it absolutely gets clogged in y'all's shower. Good luck.

Mina Ashido

Mina is the fun roommate! I’m talking late nights spent goofing off, playing video games and watching movies or even just talking if you want. If you two weren’t best friends before moving in together, guess what?

You’re best friends now. or more?

Alien Queen is also Snack Queen. Our pink homegirl buys lots of snacks and is more than happy to share.

Um, garbage? What garbage? Her Quirk dissolves it and that’s one utility y’all are saving money on now to get Kaminari to help with the electricity

No matter how bad your day was, how shitty your boss, how long your commute, Mina can always make you laugh. Which is a nice way to end an otherwise completely shit day.

Actually pretty good about keeping the apartment tidy! Living in the UA dorm taught her a lot about being considerate of shared spaces and she’s always out and about anyway. So almost no worries about messes

Because she’s either out and about or doing patrols, you actually get the apartment to yourself quite a bit?? Ummm, SCORE! Until you start missing your pink roomie/bestie

That is, if she’s not inviting/dragging you out to do stuff with her! If you’re someone who needs a bit of prompting to get out of the house, Mina is great for that!

Also...the roommate who is constantly trying to hook you up with her friends. Like, I’m serious. If you’re not already seeing anyone, this die hard romantic will constantly try to set you up with people hey, roomie, pls introduce me to Kirishima. You won’t need a dating app ‘cause Mina Ashido is your roommate and girl knows everybody.

The not so great...

If you're pretty introverted or just really prefer quiet at home, being roommates with Mina can be hard. Mina is a social butterfly - loud and bubbly and all these other wonderful qualities that simultaneously don't mesh well with most introverts.

Speaking of social butterfly, she invites her friends over. A lot. And y’all know that the Bakusquad spells c h a o s

It would also not surprise me if Mina had a number of...ahem, overnight guests. So prepare for extra (awkward) company at breakfast.

Sometimes gets so caught up in her social life, all those hobbies, and hero work that...she forgets that rent or utilities are due. Whoops. You’ll have to remind her sometimes. 😬

Good luck if you have wooden floorboards. Mina loves to dance and this means a lot of scuff marks.

Ochaco Uraraka

This cutie! 12/10 would room with her if I could

When she first started UA, Ochaco had to move to Musutafu and live on her on which I'm sure was a little scary for a 15-year-old girl and definitely lonely. She wasn't looking forward to being alone again after graduation but wait! She has you!

Really appreciates your presence in your shared home and will undoubtedly cherish you, even treating you like family. It makes her so happy when she comes home after a long day of patrols and having someone respond when she says, "I'm home!" Ochaco, lemme be your housewife

Video game nights with Dekusquad? Video game nights with Dekusquad!

Pretty clean and always does her dishes which automatically puts her the top tier of roommate categories, let’s be real.

She knows where all the deals are, when certain sales are happening, and where to go for the best discounts. And she shares all this hard-earned knowledge with her precious roomie (that's you, boo). Grocery shopping with her is intense because she gets super competitive about getting those deals before everyone else but it's also so much fun.

Master couponer. You knows those ladies that clip so many coupons that they sort them into little bags and actually sell them in bundles? That's Ochaco. She's even part of some online couponing groups.

But she always hands you the coupons for your favorite snacks.

The not so great..

Ochaco works really, really hard and takes on a lot of missions. So, when she gets home, the usually upbeat hero can be a little...grouchy. By grouchy, I mean snappy and sulky and -- who is this woman and what did she do to your sweet, adorable roommate?

Seriously, just don’t talk to her or make a lot of noise until she sleeps for 10+ hours and eats or she might send you floating to your shared ceiling.

That roommate who will get on you if you leave any of the lights on or stay in the shower for too long. She is NOT shelling out extra cash on utilities next month because of you!! honestly same

Toru Hagakure

Another fun roommate!

We’ve seen her room, and we can tell by looking at it that she loves to decorate. If you (probably) have different tastes than hers, Toru will find ways to compromise and combine both your preferences to decorate your shared apartment! You know what that means?

Ikea trips. Toru’s enthusiasm alone makes it so much fun but it’s not as fun when you inevitably lose her in that Swedish labyrinth. (Hint: Check the various kids’ sections. She got distracted by the cute plushies.)

If you two are not constantly updating your interior design, you’re at least adding to it. it makes the space just uniquely yours and feel so homey.

Toru has some real 👌👌 taste in movies. Her movie collection makes for some awesome movie nights. Bring all the blankets, plushies, and the like and you’re in for a chill night.

Out of everyone on this list, I feel like she’ll be the easiest to convince to get a pet. She skips the “well, who is gonna pay for food?” talk and doesn’t spend any too much time deliberating over her busy hero schedule - just jumps right on in to the nearest adoption agency.

Congrats, you’re now parents of an adorable, slightly grumpy rescue cat. Which - bonus - actually makes it so much easier keeping track of Toru because it’s almost always brushing against her legs or on her lap.

The not so great...

Definitely the nosy roommates. She wants to know all the details about your life and is the type to peak into your room because she's curious. Her Quirk only makes all the easier for her.

She likes to leave cute or funny messages on the fogged up bathroom mirror or with magnets on the fridge which is cute but...unnerving when an invisible being sends you random messages in your apartment.

....and according to the wiki, she loves hidden-camera prank shows? Welcome to Jackass, roomie. You’re gonna get pranked.

Also because of her Quirk, she often has to remove her clothes to make full use of her invisibility but this has also lead to a bad habit of leaving articles of clothing throughout the apartment. You often find random socks and gloves and even shirts out throughout the apartment.

Tsuyu Asui

A+ roomie. Seriously, give this girl all a gold star.

Super tidy, super considerate, and super stoked to live with you. She’s used to a full house and honestly wasn’t so sure about living on her own straight after graduation. Then came you!

Tsuyu looooves to cook with you. If your cooking skills need work, she’ll happily teach you. Out of everyone else on this list, you share the most meals together.

Soooo many blankets and pillows in your apartment! Tsu needs the extra layers during winter and honestly, just build a blanket fort for you two. It’s great. just roommates huh?

Absolutely will text you just to check in if she makes it home before you and has no problem either waiting up for you or even walking to meet if it’s dark. And honestly, what’s better than

Being super straightforward, Tsuyu always lets you know if there’s something up with the apartment or just if she’d like you to be a little quieter coming home. Also an observant person and checks in on your needs/preferences as well. Y’all rarely have any typical roommate spats because she’s direct and makes sure to communicate.

We stan a sweet, considerate frog roommate in this household.

The not so great...

Because she grew up taking care of two younger siblings and then lived with the entire 1-A class (19 teenagers in one building -- that's insane) in the dorms, Tsuyu actually has little tolerance for messes in common spaces.

Tsuya Asui ain’t your momma. You're both adults and you both pay rent, so she expects you clean up after yourself and will call you out if you don't.

Especially about those dishes left in the sink. You can say that you just left the pots in there "to soak", but Tsuyu ain't buying it. And she tells you as much.

Not above shaming your messes on her Snap story i’m that petty roommate or bringing up that you forgot to take out the trash in front of other people.

Kyouka Jirou

She's the cool roommate. By that, I mean the one you’re lowkey bragging about when you describe her to your friends. Girl is a hero, plays pretty much every instrument, and is just a cool person in general. It’s hard not to brag.

Seriously, just her mere presence alone makes your place at least 70% cooler than it would have been if you lived by yourself. That’s how cool she is.

Super respectful of your privacy. Like, she won’t even know what your room actually looks like unless you actually invite her in.

Great roommate banter. Kyouka has a great dry sense of humor and likes to tease people, so you two can go back and forth all day.

Great texter. She always gives you a heads up when people are over or if you guys need anything for the apartment. Bonus: lots of hilarious pics of Bakusquad being idiots.

Don't tell her that you can hear her when she sings in the shower; it'd just fluster her and make her self-conscious. But being able to listen to that amazing voice in your own home?👌👌👌

If you're someone who doesn't necessarily need or even want a tight knit relationship with a roommate, Kyouka is your best bet. She's generally really chill and won't get hyped over being best friends.

That said, she’s a pretty empathetic person and easy to talk to. She’ll absolutely stay up late with you just to talk if you need it. Gives great advice.

The not so great...

You will lose track over how many times you ask her to turn the music down.

Like Mina, Kyouka comes as a package deal with the Bakusquad. Kyouka doesn’t invite them over often because even she doesn’t want that chaos in her home but sometimes it’s inevitable.

She’s not much of a cook. Plus she’s pretty busy keeping up with her hero career, music, and group of friends, so she doesn’t have much free time anyway. This means she orders out - a lot. Good news? Hardly any friction over cleaning dishes. Bad news? Her take out boxes leave little room in the fridge for your food.

BONUS: Regardless of who you room with, you’ll hardly ever worry about a break-in or any crime in your neighborhood because your roommate is a professional hero and will kick any home intruder stupid enough to try anything.

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