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paymechildsupport · 7 months ago

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I've never done a request before so please bear with me🥲

I was wondering if you could do another Francis Mosses x reader.

I really enjoyed your Spouse!Reader x doppelgänger!Francis and wanted to see your take on D.D.D. trainee!Reader x doppelganger! Francis, where we get sent out to 'take care' of Francis.

Really excited to see what you do with this prompt🙏🏾

>nahhh this is a devious prompt, -- I gotchu 🙏😈🙏😈

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“Does this please you, Officer?” // Doppel!Francis x DDD Officer Reader

--Doppelgänger!Francis x DDD Reader tasked with his neutralization 🙏

-!! AFAB Reader, -- though genetalia isn't outright explicity stated -(?) -- there is room for your imagination though 😋

-!! CW: nsfw- (smut), ; Dubcon /// Hand-job; sex against a wall; degradation; implied overstimulation

A/N: the number of Francis requests are CRAZY, -- and I completely understand why, -- man's actually majestic <3.

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...

This was not how you planned to spend your Tuesday night,— grumpy and exhausted, woken up mid-sleep by an emergency dispatch.

“Mm… hello.?” Your groggy voice speaks into the ringing phone, eyes still sticky from sleep.

“Emergency Dispatch: Doppelgänger identified at Complex II,— repeat, doppelgänger identified at complex II,— dispatch agent, neutralize the threat”. They clicked off, leaving you alone in the dark.

Fuuuuuuck….

You fit yourself to your uniform quickly, practically ripping the hazmat suit in an attempt to get inside. Stupid cheap uniform.

Hurriedly, you grabbed your gear before rushing out the door, immediately stopping to softly tiptoe down the hall, (it would be inconsiderate to wake your neighbors at this hour).

You bolt out the complex, trying your best with the minimal light from the lampposts to groggily stumble your way to Complex II. You recall briefly the mention of a new doorman, a rookie. You figured it made sense,— poor new guy’s first day and he’s greeted by what you can assume as a particularly aggressive doppelgänger.

Trudging up to the looming building, you approach the iron bound mechanical door. You can see immediately the shutters to the doorman’s office are closed, bits of movement visible from the gaps in the blinds. The poor dude was in shambles.

You approach the gate, eyes locking on the figure of the doppelgänger,

Hmm, let’s see who it is tonight…

You’re surprised to see the handsome face of your milkman staring back at you, eyes looking as dead as ever. The air was knocked right outta your lungs,— holy shit these doppelgängers were getting good.

Clearing your throat, you address,

“Uh,— right, sir,” you look at the doppelgänger, “I’m gonna need you to come with me.”

He says nothing, opting to just stare. It’s then you notice the gaping hole that was his mouth, the two black chasms that were supposed to be his eyes. From afar, he’d look perfectly normal,— but in the light all the inhuman imperfections stuck out like a sore thumb

Holy smokes that’s hot.

“I’m going to take you with me now,” you don’t even know why you’re telling him this, why the hell were you being all nice with a doppelgänger? Sure, he was good looking,— sure, you were curious what that mouth could do—-

But that’s besides the point.

You approach hesitantly, hooking an arm around ‘Francis’, giving him a light tug to signify him to follow you.

Surprisingly, he does. Without a single word or complaint. He just… stares. With those beady white pupils. It sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

Leading him away, you look over your shoulder at the doorman who just peeked out from behind the shutters, giving him a reassuring thumbs up as you walk away with your new companion.

“Threat neutralized,” you repeat into the bulky walky talky attached to your belt, “order complete, over”. You place it back in its compartment, continuing until you and ‘Francis’ reach the anomaly compound for all things strange and odd.

‘Francis’ looks at the compound with horribly disguised disgust. You only chuckle grinning,

“No no, don’t worry. You aren’t going in there…” he seems to breathe a sigh of relief— if that’s even possible—, before you finish the last bit,

“— don’t worry, I have… other plans for you..”

——

“Strip.”

“Excuse me?” He whirls around, taken aback.

“You heard me, strip”

“And why,” his eyes narrow, “would I do that?”

You shrug, “safety protocol,-- we’re in the decontamination room,-- can’t let you in if your clothes are contaminated, y’know?”

'Francis' is absolutely flabbergasted.

“Oh, and for security measures someone else has to be in the room at all times, – but uh,-” you grin, “we’re a lil’ short staffed at the moment, so it looks like it’ll just have to be you and me.

'Francis' only looks at you through narrowed eye lids, thinking, “and if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll strip you myself” and you step closer to do just that.

'Francis' skitters backwards to the other end of the room, back hitting the wall, “h-hey! No need for that, I’ll do as you ask…” he mutters

Chuckling, “at least you can be obedient”

'Francis' looks away almost bashfully as he begins to undo the buttons on his shirt, fabric peeling away to reveal the pale skin underneath. His hat rests on a nearby bench

“Fully,” you purr, “I want it all off.”

You swear you see the tiniest hint of red tinge his cheeks, and you can’t help but wonder just how advanced this doppelgänger was. Good thing you were about to see for yourself in a moment…

The air is heavy, tense, almost, as 'Francis' slowly undoes the buckle on his belt, pants sliding down to his ankles, – his boxers the only scrap of clothing left hiding him from you.

He wearily regards the way you look at him, not missing the growing flare of hunger behind your eyes,

“Does this please you, officer?” his words are clipped, tension building up behind each one. Biting your lip, your breath almost catches at the way he smiles, teeth a little too sharp to be human.

“No.” The words are thick in your throat, forcing them out a bit of a struggle, “Get rid of the rest of it, now”

He bites his tongue, making no move to do so. In a second you’re on him, pinning his figure to the wall, bodies pressed up together. He has no time to react as you hook two fingers around his boxers, harshly yanking them off.

“Oh.”

Free of the confines of his pants, his erect cock springs loose, tip already dripping with precum.

“Huh.” 'Francis' can’t even turn his head your way, face hot and sweating slightly, “Who would’ve thought,” – your hands curl around him, taking him fully in your fist. His eyes fly to your face, pupils blown and dilated, staring in horrified arousal as you began to knead the hardened flesh, “--what a sick little thing you are, getting off on my reprimands, hmm?”

'Francis' sucks in a sharp breath, muscles tensing almost to a breaking point. His entire body shook with an animalistic need. More strands of precum build up on his tip, all read and agitated. Your thumb rubs the tiny slit, coating him with the sticky fluid. You found it hilarious, – no way this freakish creature had a fucking thing for degradation.

His mouth opens in the shape of a small ‘o’, eyes rolling back as you teasingly pull at his dick, your hands making wet squelching noises playing with the soaked meat.

“Mm,” you hum as you continue to play with him, dumbifying the creature in your hands. His legs start shaking like a dog’s, lewd whimpers flowing from his lips, glistening with saliva and drool. He desperately thrusts himself against your hand, chasing his pleasure farther. Jerking him off slowly, immense satisfaction burning in your stomach at the way your hand milks him. Each low groan went straight to your pulsing heat, drenching your own pants.

Panting, unfamiliar with the immense, foreign pleasure curdling through his gut, 'Francis' seems to forget the guise of his human appearance, pornograpic moans mixing in with groggy animalistic growls and grunts. Carnal desire ripples through his veins, building up in his stomach, molten hot, and threatening to explode from his twitching cock in your hands. Poor thing can’t even formulate words, getting his brains fucked out just by your hand alone.

He gasps, right about to climax into your hammering fist when you suddenly retract your hand. 'Francis' looks at you with wide eyes, looking every bit the kicked puppy, cruelly robbed of his orgasm.

“Hh. huh… nghu..- ga-?..”, panting.

You chuckle slowly, “no, not yet…”

He can only watch with teary eyes as you skillfully unbuckle your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear. You grab him by the hips, positioning him (which isn’t hard, considering the only thing keeping his shaking body up was your torso), and aligning your pelvis, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You carefully slip him into your drenched hole, gasping softly at the sensation of him.

“Hah… like I said….” ‘Francis’ can only gape as you adjust yourself, cock twitching madly inside of you,

… “I’m not done with you yet…”

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muniimyg · 7 months ago

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chaebol!jungkook (4) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist closed.

note: have safe sex & don’t be like these two <3

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @kekerrreke @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

monday

jungkook comes home around lunch time. no words can describe how happy he is to see you half asleep on his couch with bam curled up with you. it's weird. his heart has never matched the pace of his dick before.

he wakes you up by joining you. as he lays his body on top of yours, you wrap your arms around him. he snuggles in closer, leaving kisses on your neck. "what'd you tell your husband?" he murmurs. you sigh as you play with his hair. "told him i went to visit my cousin, jiun."

he nods along, "that makes sense. didn't she just give birth like three months ago? three months is a good time to visit a new born." you're shocked by his memory. "how'd you remember—"

jungkook laughs hearty as he sits up and pulls you with him. "you wouldn't let me cum in you for like two weeks then. got all paranoid about having my baby or some shit."

you shrug. "having your baby wouldn't be so bad."

jungkook's eyes dim. "if you didn't have a husband, right?"

tiptoeing, you plant a kiss on his lips. "aren't you my husband?"

that night, jungkook fucks you like you're the only thing that matters to him. he missed you so much that he had no time to buy condoms. his heart goes on overdrive when you tell him it's okay. you say, "you can fuck me raw. i wanna know how you feel... give this to me, okay? give me all of you."

so he does. in so many ways, he gives you himself.

tuesday

the morning starts off with sex.

the coffee you brewed for the two of you goes cold as it sits on the nightstand, untouched. tangled in his bedsheets, you can't help but giggle at every gentle touch he places on you. it's different. sex with him has never felt like this before. it feels like lightning.

jungkook shoves his cock inside you for the nth time, causing you to squeal. as he towers over you, you moan at the sight of his chain dangling. you feel every inch of his cock pump inside of you, each stroke hitting your g-spot. it's so insane. like, you've never liked sex so much before this. before him.

in the back of your mind, you wonder if you can ever let this go. could you ever forget about this? how tuesday morning sex feels like with the man that you're practically forbidden to be with?

it doesn't matter.

right now, it's him. he's the only thing you see and feel... and he feels like a dream.

as the day goes on, jungkook does a lot of sweet things you never expected him to do. he helped dress you. he started you a bath. he made you lunch. he asked you a lot of questions about your family, ultimately trying to get to know you more. at one point, he looks at you a little too fondly.

"what's with the look?" you ask, hiding your face with your hands.

jungkook moves them, bringing them to his lips. kissing your hands, he looks at you with the sweetest eyes. "you're... evergreen. you know that? you blow my mind. that's all."

you cover up the fact that your heart melted by smirking and taking his hands back. "yeah, yeah... you know what else i can blow?"

wednesday

jungkook can't say he hates this.

you tied him up and spent the past hour edging the shit out of him. between you two, your sweat and pre-cum could fill buckets. he loves the way you're out of breath. he loves the way you're gliding your pussy against his dick, struggling not to cum.

"j-just put it in, wifey." you feel shivers go down your back as he calls you that. "fuck me like you love me."

you freeze.

"like i what?"

jungkook hisses. "s-shut up."

you shake your head. "no. say it again."

jungkook struggles with the rope. "untie me."

"no. say what you said again."

"why don't i show you instead?"

that's all it takes. you untie him and he fucks you like he loves you. as you cum and feel him throbbing inside of you, you want to say it. you want to make a confession. instead, you mumble his name in between kisses and hope he simply knows.

thursday

jungkook spends most of his day at work. he textes you a million times, acting all clingy. you text him back with the same energy and enjoy your day with bam. you clean his penthouse a little and start on dinner.

you make his favourite.

when he comes home, his fatigue posture goes away the instant you greet him at the door. "jungkook?" you peer out of the corner, bam following you.

"hey," he smiles, collapsing into your embrace. "d-did you cook? it smells like—"

"yeah," you flush. "i did. i also made seaweed soup."

"it's not my birthday," he laughs, taking his shoes off. he holds you by the waist, guiding you to the kitchen. over the stove, he watches as you lift the lids off the dishes.

"i saw your calendar when i was tidying your study. your birthday was a few months ago but the date was empty? you didn't celebrate with anyone, did you?"

jungkook blinks at you.

"so i made you seaweed soup. at the very least, we can celebrate together. i hope that's okay—"

jungkook kisses you.

then, he fucks you against the kitchen counter. against his kitchen island, he has you bending over. at one point, you jump on him, legs wrapped around like it belongs there. he brings you to his couch, and lifts your legs. jungkook eats you out for a good hour. he plays with your pussy, switching from fucking you to fingering you until your squirt. when you do, you stain the cashmere throw blankets he has on his couch. it's okay. he'd display them if he could.

jungkook has your legs in the air for so long, they hurt so bad. to soothe them, he runs you both a bath. sitting in his bathtub together, you two giggle uncontrollably over the bubbles and bath salts. you two are so close. so intimate.

he kisses your shoulders. he kisses behind your ear. he kisses every part of you that he can.

by the time you two clean up, the meal you prepared is cold. as you put on your pjs, jungkook reheats the food. you join him by wrapping your arms around him, hugging his back. his heart is filled with so much love as you two sit down and eat together. you feed him a few bites of the soup, sing him happy birthday, and cuddle him to sleep.

that night, he hates your fiancé the most.

friday

jungkook invites his friends over.

at first, you're nervous. completely confused why he would do such a thing, but when you meet them.. you get it. they're all so funny and sweet. it confuses you how jungkook has such a douchey personality when he has such amazing friends.

"i've never seen him like this," his friend jimin comments. "he explained the whole thing to us... and obviously, we've been begging him for months to give up and stop bothering you... but after meeting you; i get it. if i were him, i'd hate your husband too."

you don't know what to feel. a part of you is upset that jungkook would talk about your life with others but another part of you can't help but feel flattered.

when his friends leave, you pick a fight.

jungkook doesn't yell. he apologizes instantly and tells you that he would kill his friends if they ever outted you. you take his word for it, but still hate the feeling.

"make up sex?" he suggests.

you roll your eyes and shove his chest. "get over yourself, you big mouth, ignorant chaebol kid—"

jungkook grabs a hold of your wrists and pulls you close. he throws you over his shoulders and takes you to the bedroom where he shows you just how sorry he is.

you accept his apologies 5 orgasms later.

saturday

jungkook makes an effort to make sure you aren't seen exiting his penthouse. he hires security and makes sure your husband isn't around. for the first time ever, jungkook takes you on a date.

he brings you to an outdoor movie. it's set up on this little hill that overlooks a field of flowers. he tells you that it's his grandmother's field. that he grew up running through them with his brother and one time, he got stung by a bee. he refused to come back ever since.

"why are we here then?" you ask, feeling a little bad at the memory he has.

"they're pretty," he answers simply. "you're pretty. it made sense."

you smile at him. tilting your head, you kiss him. he chases your lips when you pull away. moving closer to him, you lean against him. he holds you as close as he can, watching the sunset and wondering if this is how it will feel like forever.

if every flower field and every sunset from here on out will remind him of you.

sunday

he was dreading for this day to come.

he hoped the world ended by now... because it will. the moment you walk out his door tonight, it will.

jungkook is an angel the entire day. you two wake up slow as the sun shines through his curtains. you two have a quickie in bed. you make brunch together. lazily cuddle on the couch and watch each other's favourite movies.

just like that; it's over.

he looks for every excuse in his head. he wonders if he should just print the divorce papers for you already—but that didn't make any sense. you weren't even married to him yet.

he still had a chance.

jungkook thinks fast. he wonders if he should do it. if he should take his grandmother's ring out from his nightstand and offer it to you. he should, shouldn't he?

then, just as he's about to excuse himself to get the ring—your fiancé calls. you pick up after the second ring.

"hey, love..." you say gently, offering jungkook a smile and excusing yourself to his study.

he curls his fists and wonders just how selfish he could be. he concludes that it doesn't matter. if he could have you—he'd give everything else up. he'd do it. he really would.

but when you come back, your warm eyes break his heart.

"what'd he say?" jungkook asks, breaking the silence.

"he asked how my trip was going. he asked when i'd be coming home... and if we could move the wedding up."

jungkook's heart breaks.

"up by how much?"

you gulp. "next month."

he has no words. all he does is nod and back away. you move forward, wrapping yourself around him.

"we have a few more hours left," you comfort him. "let's be together for a little longer.. okay?"

he looks at you, utterly conflicted.

then, you kiss him and his mind clears.

you'd win.

no matter what he says or does, you'd win. you'd win him, you'd win your fiancé. but fuck that because it doesn't matter who you choose. you'd always have jungkook.

he kisses you until you're out of breath. he fucks you in such a fulfilling way, you swear you see stars. it's so different from the other times. it's loving. it's wishful. every handful of your breast he squeezes, every lick of your pussy, and every thrust he shoves his cum in deeper inside of you—it's mesmerizing. it's unforgettable. it's everything you've ever wanted and ever thought to want.

jungkook gives you everything. every plea you whimper, every kiss, and every touch in between you two—he tries his best to remember.

jungkook fucks you like there's no tomorrow.

because there isn't one.

this was the end.

#bts smau #bts scenario #jk cheater #jk x oc #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts cheating au #bts ceo au #jungkook ceo

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mariahcarreyyy · 8 months ago

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love tropes with max?

# send me a driver and I’ll tell you which love tropes i associate them with ! suggestive themes 18+ below

mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post

Look, I was going to say 'enemies to lovers' because, well, have you seen Max? But let's talk about Max and a nanny/caretaker!reader.

He and Kelly broke it off a while ago, but Max couldn't handle saying goodbye to Penelope, so they settled for split parenting. Sometimes, though, Max would have to leave for short periods of time—media duties, race weekends, etc.—and that's where you came in.

A friend had recommended you to him, and after signing multiple contracts and NDC's, you were officially caring for P on all days of the week except Tuesdays (you suspect it's because Max is always home on Tuesdays). Anyway, at the same time that you had grown incredibly fond of his daughter, she had too.

It was not hard, Max thought; you were undebateably beautiful.

He tries to dismiss his heart soaring whenever you'd laugh at his poorly made jokes. He tries to ignore the urge to touch you if he were in the same room as you—hands gripping your waist to slide past a tight hallway, back pressed against yours to help you reach P's cartoon cup on the top shelf of the kitchen—all not so platonic or discreet.

Max would insist you stay for dinner most nights, despite you not having any real reason to. You'd never agreed to something more enthusiastically in your life. His blue eyes soften as he watches you wipe some of the pasta sauce off the corner of P's lips.

It awoke something primal in him.

He wants to have you here, sitting and giggling before him, forever. For as long as you'll have him. If you even want him. After his daughter had been successfully tucked in bed without a refuting sound, he'd come back to a clean dinner table. Glancing through the kitchen aisle window, he could see your figure wiping the dirty dishes in the kitchen.

Grinning cheekily, Max tiptoes behind you, cockiness fading into adoration when he hears you humming some Dutch songs he'd play around the apartment. He shakes his head, his eye on the prize. Just as you'd been placing a plate on the dishrack, Max grips your shoulder blades, whispering a hushed 'boo'.

Your heart nearly fell out of your ass. A loud yelp escaped your lips, your fingers loosening around the plate. Max's eyes widen, and he holds the plate before it shatters onto the ground in all his driver reflex glory.

Turning to face him, both your cheeks tint pink when you register how close Max is from reaching for the plate behind you; chest grazing against your nipples, a shared minty breath shared between you, identical flushes on your faces.

Like magnets, the two of you push past the tension in the air, and your lips meet halfway. His massive hands burn through your clothes, one on the swell of your ass and another cupping the side of your neck, deepening the kiss and squeezing lightly.

You gasp at the momentary constriction, a pathetic moan escaping your mouth. Max swallows it, takes it as an opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips, and smiles against them when you pull him flush against you.

"Max," you whimper, lips close enough to brush against his.

"I know, I know, liefje," he coos, tucking his hands underneath your thighs and hauling you onto the kitchen counter, snickering at your loud gasp when he pulls you to sit on the edge.

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pickingupmymercedes · 8 months ago

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Ways to say "I love you" - Lewis Hamilton

I'm back with more Lew ❤️

warnings: mostly fluff, bit of angsty

wordcount: +3k

important: each drabble was writen as a snippet into different moments with Lewis. There's 10 more of those, but this was getting huge, so this is part 1.

With a hoarse voice, under the blankets

Life had been hectic, as it tended to be around the weeks before the final couple of races. You and Lewis had been on the road since mid October, not really going back to Europe since the US GP in Texas. The week off between São Paulo and Las Vegas the perfect opportunity to take a few days off in California with his friends. It was tiring, but you’d never complain of having a full passport as a down feature for your job.

The week of the Las Vegas GP was packed of events and promo for everyone, and to top it off a quick impromptu meeting with the board in the media day of the GP turned into a 5 hours long debate, that went well into the night.

You got back to your suite almost at midnight in serious need of a shower and some sleep. What you didn’t predict was Lewis already tucked into the bed, sound asleep.

You tiptoed around the room to try and find your things, not being lucky in the slightest you settled for a shirt Lewis had used in the road trip from LA to Vegas. The quick shower, only meant to decompress, had you engulfed in Lewis’ perfume, from both his shower products and shirt.

Lewis soft breathing guided you to the bed in the darkness of the room and when you got under the soft covers a pair of arms guided you to his chest, the one place sure to get you blacked out in minutes.

“They're in serious trouble for keeping you for so long” his horse voice an indication he had been in deep sleep already

“Sorry, took longer than we expected”

“Can’t wait to have you all to myself. Gonna have to lock you up at home during winter”

“No need, I’ll always find my way to you”. You mumbled into his neck, already nestling closer to him, ready to drift off.

A scream

“I love you” You screamed when you realized you’d never catch him, mid airport track, hoping the wind would somehow carry your words. His head turned abruptly, his face had confusion written all over his features, he was stuck in place, too stunned to comprehend the sudden confession you were hollering to the world but couldn’t say aloud to him just hours ago. You ran to him, security, people and restrictions be damned, that was your one chance.

“I love you, Lewis. I have loved you for longer than I care to admit, I have not stopped loving you even when I said I didn’t, even when hating you was all I wanted.” within arm’s reach you admitted breathlessly, doe eyes looking at you with such intensity you were sure he could see into your soul. His hands cautiously outstretching towards yours, waiting for you to take it, waiting for your mind to catch up to the feelings you had just admitted, waiting to see if you’d finally let your heart take over.

You didn’t take his hand though, going instead for the back of his neck, caressing the soft skin at the base of his hairline with your fingers, his overwhelming gaze waiting for your next move, for you to fully give in, looking from his eyes to his mouth until his scent and his touch were all that you felt. His hold on the lower of your back, the brush of his eyelashes on your cheeks and his taste on your lips were all you could ever want. The decision of a lifetime, one that after that day you would make every day, over and over.

On a random Tuesday afternoon, the late sunlight glowing in your hair

The thing with Lewis was he was too much of an Capricorn for his own good, the earth in him urged for stability and trust, and in the familiarity and serenity of home he urged for security, not that he wanted a predictable life, but he wished that no matter what, he had someone he could fall back on.

“Move in with me” He blurred out of nowhere causing you to lightly laugh at him, scotching closer to his chest as if there was any space left between you, both laying comfortably tangled in each other in his house in London. Pillows and blankets around you on the floor, the late afternoon sunlight hitting the glass on the dining table and reflecting up at the ceiling, a movie on the tv neither were paying attention to.

“I mean it. I don’t see myself without you, I don’t want to anyway.” he almost whispered in your ears, the low volume to his voice amplifying the seriousness in his proposal. Turning your head to look at him you held your gaze into his for minutes, almost daring him to call off the offer, but he never did. His warm smile spreading onto his features when you crocked your head and smirked, specks of the late sunlight glowing where they hit your hair.

“I’d love to” you murmured, straddling him and pushing his chest so he’d lay back down on the blankets, hovering your face over his, leaving ghostly soft kisses on his lips, coming back up to look him in the eye, time and time again. Convincing yourself that it was okay to finally let your walls down for good.

“I love you; you know?!” a statement so surely presented to your, so pure. He didn’t wait to hear it back before pulling your to his chest and his lips, he didn’t have to.

When baking chocolate chip cookies

“We’re baking chocolate chip cookies!” You exclaimed as you entered his home gym in London mid-winter break, supplies in hand already anticipating half of the ingredients wouldn’t exist in his fridge.

“Excuse me?” He questioned as he set the weights down and reached for the towel to get the sweat dry from his forehead

“C’mom, vegan chocolate chip cookies” you rushedly told him already half way back inside, leaving a confused Lewis searching for any meaning to what had just happened.

As he approached his kitchen, he could hear the soft music playing in the speakers in the background while you danced around arranging the things you’d need.

“Care to explain, love?” He leaned at the stool just under the glistening spotlight and the couple of trays spread at the kitchen island.

“Your niece and nephew are coming over tomorrow” She retorted, almost a duh expression on her features as she chopped the vegan chocolate bar.

“Y/n, they know I’m preparing for the season” He lovingly replied, getting closer to you.

“Oh, they’re not exactly for you, Lew. I mean, they’re still vegan if you want to try them.” You turned into his embrace, leaving a kiss to the corner of his lips before wiggling back to where the many food items were.

“You show up at my house midafternoon, fully stacked, to bake vegan cookies for kids that aren’t coming until tomorrow and don’t really expect to eat anything but fruits ?!” He crocked his head, smirk fully on display as his eyes gleamed.

“That’s like half the reason I came. Apples and bananas are fine, but they are kids.” You shrugged as that was the most obvious thing.

“We’re really baking cookies then, I guess?!” He reached to you and grabbed the flour off of your hand, pouring it into a bowl.

“Chocolate chip cookies” You corrected him, laughing as he stole a few of the chopped chocolates still sitting on the chopping board

Not said to me

You jolted up from your sleep when you heard a loud cry, frantically looking around the room you remembered you weren’t home when your eyes found the luggage in the corner, yours and Lewis’s belongings neatly tucked in the adjoining closet, a stark contrast to the baby clothes and toys scattered around the floor and armchairs. Slowly coming to your senses, you realized the crying was in your dreams when you heard a happy babble, followed by your husband’s low voice coming from the balcony of the hotel room.

“Sshh love, we don’t want to wake mamma up now do we? She’s taking a nap so we can go for a walk down the beach later.” The little girl instantly responding with a babble at the word she knew all too well.

Getting up you didn’t have the heart to interrupt the scene that played out when you peaked from the opened French doors of the room, deciding to quietly watch from the threshold as he kept blowing raspberries onto your daughter’s tummy, the chunky toddler in nothing but her diapers, in the hot afternoon summer breeze of Italy in July, excitedly clapping her hands for her dad while sitting on his legs.

“Oh, I miss her too baby, even when she’s just in the other room… I’ll tell you a secret though, even if momma tells the world we’re twins, every time I see your eyes, I see hers, the same one I’ve been in love with for a long time. Everyone says you are my hard carbon copy, but I love that I get to look into a piece of your mommy whenever I look at you".

When we lay together by the sun

The sun in your skin felt divine, a stark contrast to the wintery end of year you’d been having back in Europe, the heat and humidity in the air bringing to your senses the familiarity of northeast Brazilian weather in the hottest months of the year. His touch on your shoulder blades providing even more warmth, big hands massaging your whole back with sunscreen.

“By all means I’m the biggest fan of your back massages, but I put on sunscreen just a couple of hours ago” you giggled looking at him over your shoulders, sunglasses on the tip of your nose.

“Just making sure you’re protected, will you do mine?” He asked after tying the strings on the upper part of your bikini and giving your bum a checky light smack.

“Yeah… come here you Briton” grabbing him by the arms you sat up on the lounger and guided him to sit in between in your legs, his back already hot from the sun exposure.

“Thank you for coming here with me, I know we made it a 4 times header not going home to rest for a bit after Mexico.” You told him while spreading the white content of the Brazilian sunscreen you’d bought, throwing away the british one, not properly suited to sun in the tropics from your past experiences.

“Any time, love.” turning to face you he pulled you by the waist, his signature smirk and relaxed eyes scanning yours. “Especially when it includes this little paradise.”

“Have I told you I love you yet?” You questioned, the toothy grin he loved so much splattered on your face, his strong arms around you, the sounds of crashing waves in the background, white sand in your toes and his skin smelling just like your favorite childhood memories did.

“Not today, I don’t think so. Eu te amo” a questioning look as he tested his Portuguese around you, crushing his lips in yours while you giggled, raising you up to his body so he could hold you in his lap, his touch also how home felt to you.

Over and over again, till it’s nothing but a senseless babble

He felt the first little droplets of rain hit his skin as soon as she screamed “run”, laughing while holding her oversized hat to her head. He sprinted towards her, grabbing her waist, effortlessly stopping them both and turning her body to him, her eyes holding the warmth that lately he could only find there, his face adorned with adoration, her dimples fully showing as her lips plastered the sweetest of grins.

“I love you” He couldn’t help himself, those 3 little words coming out as easily as breath, the thought of how hard it’d been to get them out in the first place long forgotten. She held his gaze as if trying to eternalize those memories, the afternoon summer rain falling hard around them whilst rays of sunlight hit the concrete, their clothes drenched, drops of water running down their tangled bodies.

“I love you; I love you; I love you” senseless babbles that professed his utmost emotion, holding her up to him and kissing in the pouring rain like they were teenagers in a cheesy movie.

A whisper in the ear

Being back to Europe always took you some time to get acclimated, and it didn’t help that that particular winter had been the coldest in years, so much colder than what your body was used to, so you wrapped yourself up in blankets waiting for your boyfriend to get out of the shower and join you in bed, hopefully helping you to warm up.

His parents, siblings, niece and nephew were gathered for an impromptu 5 days getaway in the mountains, in the middle of wintery January, snow everywhere and days filled with winter sports, fireplaces and laughter from the people that had welcomed you as family.

“Hey gorgeous, I thought you’d still be down there” he smirked his way to the open luggage on the little sofa by the bed, towel low on his hips and another in his hand for his face.

“Everyone went to bed, something about getting some sleep to beat you on the slopes tomorrow” You giggled the last part, knowing how competitive they could get. He chuckled and made his way towards you, getting under the blankets and bringing you over to his side, just his presence enough to soothe away the tight muscles from the cold.

“How come you’re always running so cold?” he whispered in your hair, wrapping his arms around your waist and hips and bringing you to his chest. His skin radiating warmth and the smell of your body wash, since he’d forgotten to pack his. Fingers absentmindedly tracing random patterns on your thighs, your eyes lazily trying to focus on the news on the tv but failing miserably, the world could wait until the next morning.

“I love you” was the last thing you heard he whisper, his hoarse voice heavy with sleep, his arms scooching your body closer to his while making sure the blankets covered you both before he let his own sleep take over.

As we huddle together, the storm raging outside

Sundays after races would always be busy for the both of you. The rain was falling hard as you entered the small RV as quietly as you could, founding Lewis ingulfed in his own thoughts and feelings when you finally cleared through your duties, way past the time you wish had.

Taking in how his arms and back looked tense while he rested his head on both his hands sitting in the small sofa, you brought yourself to stand right in front of him, softly running your finger on his neck until he looked up offering a sad side smile and tugged you to his lap. You hadn’t spoken to each other since before he got in his car, well over 4 hours prior, but you didn’t have to.

He needed time to process what happened, he always did. Lewis could always come to interviews looking like he had it all together, always with the right words, but you knew, from the crease in his forehead and the way his shoulders dropped whenever he breathed a little deeper, that his calculating-looking actions and words were just knee-jerk reactions.

“I love you” you said into his neck, a consolation of sorts, huddling together, sitting on his lap with his head resting on your chest and his arms holding your waist tightly. At least in that small room, neither of you had to think about the storm brewing outside, not yet anyway.

Over the shoulder

The championship had, yet again, came down to the last race and the doom could be felt even from outsiders. The last time it happened Lewis wasn’t even a Ferrari driver, but everyone remembered.

You had tried to block the subject from your conversations with him, warned everyone he had enough of the comparisons, made sure he had all the space to breath, concentrate and shield all the noise from the outside. Yet, in the apparent serenity of the hotel bedroom, the quietness would scream back at him.

“What if it’s not meant to be?” He snapped you out of your thoughts as you finished some reports on your computer. His eyes a mix of something you couldn’t quite pint point, his walls up even for you.

“Then you’re still a 7 times world champion, a driver who’s won for McLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari, a trailblazer in the sport, entrepreneur over a variety of assets, founder of Mission 44, British knight, Brazilian honorary citizen, Anthony and Carmen’s son, Nicolas’ brother, my mom’s favorite son-in-law… oh and Roscoe’s dad, of course.” He smiled as you got to his family, scootching over to be by your side on the balcony sofa and laying his head on your lap.

“I would hate to be an almost champion… twice”

“Yeah, we would all hate that too. And it’s okay to feel all kinds of way about possible results, but we’re not gonna known until we know, right?!” You felt him humm in response, your fingertips going through his braids, trying to sooth the tensions away from him.

It wasn’t until the soft humming of a phone in the bedroom that you realized you had fallen asleep in the balcony, his body moving almost automatically to get him up while his features revealed how he too had dozed off.

“Will you still love an almost champion?” He prompted suddenly, almost like he had just remembered he had to know, eyes twinkling under the lights.

“Babe, I stayed even in the timbs phase, didn’t I?” You smirked back earning a full soundless chuckle, those that had him reach for his diaphragm and shake his head left to right.

“You’re lucky I love you; you really are.” You heard as he looked over his shoulders just as he got back inside.

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1

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romanshomeonwattpad · 6 months ago

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Girl in New York

pairings - art donaldson/reader | challengers au! |

“__” = Y/N

masterslist | next chapter

sypnosis - men would call you a siren, and women would call you a bitch. but all he knows is that you’re his.

warnings - future smut

word count - 1.5k

authors note - this fic will be having a part two. its completely out my comfort zone, and i wanted to experiment my skills as a writer to create a character super complex. any hate will be deleted and blocked. reminder that this is purely fiction!

His pink lips glistened with beads of sweat that resembled diamonds. Unknowingly licking your own—your thighs clenched as his girlfriend pecked his cheek. You didn’t know why, but having the attention of every man in the vicinity made you feel as if you were worth something. The pain on girls’ faces after seeing their man’s arms wrapped around your figure always made you….

…….bite back a smile.

Your current subject was taken. It was perfect. A challenge never bored you—but only encouraged your habits.

Art Donaldson was on every girl’s agenda at the moment. Whenever you went to your local gym, he was playing on the tv screen at every treadmill with hunger in their eyes. These suburban women go crazy for a pretty boy with nice eyes and a fit bod. And the fact that you’ve never seen him smile, is a plus. He wasn’t a pushover.

He was a challenge.

The blonde haired girl got on her tiptoes, wrapping her tiny arms around Art’s shiny neck. You could see his defined muscles slightly bulge beneath his completely soaked t-shirt, making him look absolutely delicious. He offered her a smile, mumbled something, and she nodded before going to the snack bar.

Taking this as your chance, you dug into your purse and pulled out a cherry sucker from a few days ago. Plucking it into your mouth, you hummed at the sweet tart like taste—carrying your long legs that were hugged tightly by a pair of tiny workout shorts towards the tennis player. He had been tying his shoe when you paused before him.

You cocked out your hip, clearing your throat. His eyes slowly trailed up your figure, jaw clenching as they finally met yours. “Cute girlfriend of yours. Looks pretty young, though….” you sigh afterwards, swirling your tongue over the top of the pop. Art’s eyes slightly widened at the sight, gulping. “I’m _ _! What’s your name, pretty boy?”

You already knew it. As soon as he had shown up on your tv screen.

His eyes were bluer in person, if possible. It was as if there were thousands of diamonds carved into his eyes as the sun set on them. Sun-kissed skin had a thin gloss of sweat from his tournament, his broad shoulders quickly going up and down as he breathed heavily. He was considerably taller than you. He had to look down at you.

“Uh…Donaldson. Art…Donaldson.”

Bending over a tad, making sure your large breasts slightly spill out your bra—you smile innocently. Your lips release the suction on the lollipop with a loud pop! “Pleasure! I was wondering if you offer private lessons?”

Shamelessly, his eyes darted over your hardened nipples. His tongue poked out and slid across his puffy bottom lip, “I um, I charge 20 bucks an hour.”

“Deal. But I’m sure we can come up with a way to give me a discount,” you winked, pulling out your phone from your bra. You heard his breathing turn ragged as you handed him it. “Put your number in. I’ll let you know when I can start.”

His teeth sunk into his lower lip, narrowing his eyes at you. “Just meet me here next Tuesday same time. Make sure to bring cash,” he muttered, looking away from you. Your brow rose at his sudden dryness—but realized you probably intimated him with your forwardness. And to make matters worse, his air headed girlfriend had returned with a boba drink in her hand.

“Art, who’s this? A friend?”

“_ _ Smith. And no—we aren’t friends. I’m only a customer, a happy one at that.” Excusing yourself, you made sure to not even glance at her. You sent a brow towards Art, his eyes filled with a storm.

“See you soon, Mr. Donaldson.”

When next Tuesday rolled around—to say you were ecstatic was an understatement. Your black tennis skirt stopped right at the bottom of your ass, a black skin tight jacket hugging your breasts tightly. The side of your heel hit the bottom of your racket as your hair swayed in its ponytail. A smirk grew onto your lips as you spotted Art, waiting for you at the court.

Pulling your glasses down, you noted how his intense eyes burned holes into your body. “Hello, again. Your girlfriend here?”

“Why does that matter?” His tone was cold—a challenge. Every second seemed to get better and better.

He looked scrumptious. There was a hickey poking out from beneath the collar of his white tennis shirt. His girlfriend probably left it there so you wouldn’t try anything—to mark her dominance per se. But the problem with that is, you don’t respect anybody’s property. What’s yours….

……..is yours.

Your brow raises. “I’m getting the impression you don’t like me to much.”

He scoffs, “I know what type of girl you are. Not interested.”

You didn’t realize this was an assessment.

“I’m unaware of what—“

“I have a girlfriend for fucksake, and you’re dressed like—like—“

You innocently round your eyes at him, deciding to play it off as if you’re hurt by his words. But he didn’t actually know the real you—he was just trying to paint a picture for his own benefit. He was scared of what you were capable of. Which meant he was cracking.

“I didn’t come here to be slut shamed,” you shrug, taking a step back. “I’ve been watching your tournaments on tv for a few months now, and thought you were beyond talented. I tried my best not to act too starstruck and got carried away.”

His eyes soften.

Bingo.

“But I’ll leave—“

“Look, I’m sorry. Let’s just forget about this and start over.” He ran a hand through his hair, then leaving it on the back of his neck.

You bit back a smirk.

There were pleading undertones laced in his words, feeling guilty for judging your outfit and questioning your morality. You knew this time to come off less forward, figuring out he liked submissive women instead. Women who go with what he wants, who let him control the situations.

“Understood. Shall we get started?” You offer, in which he chuckles and agrees.

For the duration of two hours, Art accessed your abilities. He complimented you multiple times on how quick you were. Although he was significantly faster when it came to hitting the ball—you knew he didn’t expect you to be at least a little good. After the session, Art when to retrieve the both of you water as you grabbed the cash from your purse.

You should’ve paid him triple just for how good his butt looked in those shorts.

“Thanks,” Art handed you your matte black hydroflask—snatching you from your thoughts. He watched you take a couple swigs from it, a drop of water rolling down between the crack of your breasts.

He licked his lips before chuckling, hoping you didn’t catch him stare. “You hate the color black, huh?”

Looking down at your hydro, you laughed before holding out the cash for him. “It’s my favorite color. Besides, it goes with everything.”

“Hm,” his eyes fall to your hand offering the cash. Instead of taking both 50 dollar bills—he takes one and sends you a smirk.

“You get a half off discount for me being a dick. One time offer.”

You nod and chew on your bottom lip as he swallows thickly. “Perhaps I can at least buy you a smoothie or something. It’s pretty hot,” you offer, adding a suggestive tone to the end of your sentence. Noticing a hard tent forming in his pants, Art steps back, clearing his throat.

“I can’t today. I’ll see you on Thursday—same time.” He mutters, turning around and offering a sheepish smile before walking away. You wondered if he was going to rub one out in his car, or fuck his girlfriend and imagining it was your pussy he was driving into.

The thought made a pool begin to seep through your panties.

The tip of his cock poking out between his fisted palm, leaking with drops of creamy pre-cum. A mouth of pure ecstasy pulling at his features as his mouth hangs open, gripping his center console as he finishes all over the interior of his car.

Or fucking his girl from behind, imagining your bouncy ass rippling with every thrust. His fingers tugging at your strands, reaching the deepest spot inside your dripping pussy. He would think of you—not her. He would….

……cum for you.

Patrick, your cousin, had been visiting from East Boston and staying at your family’s house. He was passionate about tennis, just like you, and pretty much taught you everything you know. That’s why you were so skilled. Learning from Art was simply to get into his pants.

And of course, he wanted to crash your tennis class with Art. Said some bullshit about Art and him meeting at a summer tennis camp—whatever. You were plotting on snatching Art from his perky titted girlfriend—but with Patrick there, it may be a bit hard.

“For fucks sake, I said no!” You shout before lighting a cigarette, painting your big toe a glittery cherry color you bought at the drug-store. You heard your neighbor slam their window shut before Patrick slides open the screen door and comes out to the backyard where you were. After taking a puff, you blow the smoke into his face. “Love you, cuzzo. But you’re cockblocking me here.”

Patrick snatched the cigarette from you, taking a frustrated hit of his own. “Didn’t you say he had a girlfriend?”

“And?”

You receive a glare, causing you to roll your eyes and snatch the cigarette back from him. “Fine. Whatever. You can come.”

He gasps before hugging you, causing you to scoff and push him off you. It would be cool for him to reunite with his old friend, but this was so not the time for that. Patrick got on your nerves but you had love for the dude. It’s always been hard to say no to him. It was despicable.

You took another hit. The rancid stench filled your senses, smoke swirling around your figure. After finishing your last toe—Patrick pulled up a chair and sits on it backwards. “You like this dude or what?”

A laugh couldn’t leave your lips after. Who does he think you are?

You haven’t truly dated a guy since you were seventeen. Ever since your ex, you didn’t grow feelings for another individual. And it had nothing to do with him—you just outgrew relationships. It was fun to have options. Especially when those options, were already taken.

Men with girlfriends are harder to obtain. They had settled already, and it takes a lot for them to trust you. But once there’s a clear understanding you don’t genuinely care for them…and only what’s in between their legs—

That’s when the real fun begins.

“Hell no. He’s hot. That’s it.”

Patrick lights another cigarette, nodding before blowing out the white ropes of smoke. “Ah. I see. You wanna fuck his brains out.”

“Precisely.”

“Back when I met him, he was dating this cute tiny little thing. What was her name? Tracy? Tara? Tam—Tiffany!”

Your smirk twitched, taking another hit of your cigarette. It was almost finished at this point. “Is she blonde?��

He looks over at you, sending a brow. “You know her?”

“I’ve seen her prancing around.”

“He told me she’s controlling and shit. Wonder if that’s still true,” he pops open the cooler and pulls out a beer, tilting his head back and taking a swig. You suddenly perk up at his words as he swallows the fermented alcohol harshly.

“Heard they took therapy classes together.”

You pressed a finger on your chin, giving him a mischievous look. “They’ve been together for a while now…huh?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Hm.

It was going to feel all the much better to steal him.

#mike faist #faist #art donaldson #donaldson #art donaldson smut #mike faist smut #challengers #challengers fanfic #challengers fic #faist smut #smut #challengers smut #patrick #patrick zweig #zweig smut #Patrick zweig smut #mike faist fic #mike faist fanfic #patrick zweig challengers

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jamessluttythighs · 1 month ago

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@moutainrusing @reguluskeys - taller regulus agenda - word count:491 - (because they both encouraged my taller reg antics)

“There will be times when you doubt your abilities but that is when you have to push even harder. You are in the last 50 metres before the finish line, don’t give up.”

McGonagall’s words echoed in James’ head. It was almost 11 on a Thursday evening and his Potions essay wasn’t nearly finished. Tomorrow would be hell if he didn’t hand anything in to Slughorn. Head boy excuses could only get you so far.

Polyjuice potion effects on modern day society: Describe the process required to achieve …

James rolled his eyes. The Restricted Section. That place always gave him the creeps but he, for the life of him, could not remember if the lacewing flies went in before or after the boomslang skin. Reluctantly he left his work nest, collected the key from the kid on duty and made his way to the back of the library.

The scent of old parchment and dust sat in the air. The candles burned low as he sauntered to the ‘Potions’ section. The silence in the room was eerie. Trailing his finger along the spines he reached the ‘P’s.

“Shit,” James muttered under his breath. He looked up. Of course it was just out of his reach. Now he had to fetch a stool. Great. A splendid day, really. As if he wasn’t tired enough. Stomping to round the corner, he slammed into a firm chest.

“Fuck, Potter! What are you doing here?”

Regulus looked slightly flustered. His curls falling loose from where they were tucked behind his ears. The book that was in his hands, now laying on the floor.

“Reg, what are you doing here?,” James exclaimed.

“It’s a Tuesday, I have shifts on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Regulus whispered back, looking at James as both of them bent down to retrieve the book. Their hands brushing accidentally. A warm feeling spread up James’ hand, leaving his arm tingling.

Regulus cleared his throat. “What do you need from the restricted section?”

“Potions essay tomorrow”

Regulus’ eyes lit up. His love for the subject bubbling to the surface. “Oh so you’ll be needing this,” he said.

In one swift motion he reached up, crowding James against the shelf. Coconut and sandalwood filling the air around James. The heat of the younger boy’s body created a fire in James. Regulus didn’t even need to get on his tiptoes. The proximity left James breathless.

“How’d you know?” James asked as Regulus took a step back and held the book out to him. James wished that he didn’t move away.

“I tutor Benjy Fenwick.”

And he’s a year ahead in Potions? James knew he didn’t stand a chance. Smart, gorgeous, slightly mean. What more did James need?

“Any chance you could give me a hand? I am so screwed for tomorrow.”

James could swear he saw a small smile dance at the corner of Regulus’ lips.

“I don’t know, Potter, what’s in it for me?”

#dead gay wizards #marauders #james potter #regulus black #the marauders #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #taller regulus agenda

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thezombieprostitute · 1 month ago

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Tech Tuesday: Steve Rogers

Summary: It's only your first day on the job. That's way too soon to have an office crush. Right?

Warnings: Workplace stress and bullying. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Part 1

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Bucky sits across from Steve, a cocky smile on his face. Steve raises an eyebrow and Bucky says, "I gave her my number." Steve doesn't know that it wasn't about a date, but he doesn't have to know.

"You didn't."

"I did," Bucky smirks. "Which means, it's your turn."

"It's...it's not the same," Steve tries to argue. "You've known your Sweetie for months now, right? This girl is still a newbie. She's barely been here a month!"

"Deal's a deal, Punk," Bucky shakes his head. "One of us gives our number, the other one has to as well."

Steve's cheeks are incredibly pink from embarrassment. He's never been good at flirting, always stumbling over his words. Sure, his body attracts attention, but inside he's still the scrawny kid who always got laughed at when he tried to talk to a girl. Especially a girl as sweet and pretty as you.

The two of you had run into each other in one of the break rooms a few times. Every time Steve talked with you, he found himself getting lost in your eyes, but that led to him not knowing what you were saying. His face would turn red and he'd quickly run out of the room. Another time you'd complimented his art and he got scared you'd see one of the drawings he did of you so he quickly closed his book and you felt bad, like you had overstepped.

And now, thanks to Bucky, Steve needs to admit he'd like to spend more time with you. Admit that he thinks about you every day. Admit that he likes you. He can do this, right?

You were crying in the ladies room for the third time since you were hired. There was so much, so fast and your coworkers were already blaming you for things. Especially things you didn't even know were your responsibility. No one had told you or shown you how to do them but they still blamed you! It's not like you were entirely new to this kind of work, but the systems were very different and, most importantly, you didn't know what was and wasn't part of your job because they hadn't told you! When you finally calm down, you head to the sinks and wash your face, trying to hide the tears.

As you tiptoe back to your cubicle, trying not to draw attention to yourself, you end up literally running into Steve, the dreamy guy from the IT Department. He manages to catch you before you fall, bringing you in for an accidental hug. You find yourself instinctively hugging him back, squeezing him tight.

"Are...are you okay?" Steve isn't going to complain about being hugged by you, but he's worried you're not in your right mind.

"Oh, sh-shoot," you break the hug and jump away. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean...I'm just..." you fight a resurgence of tears and run to your cubicle. When you get there, Maggie, your least favorite new coworker, is glaring at you, arms crossed.

"Really, Newbie," she admonishes, "you've been here a month and you still don't know how to update the most basic fields in the database?"

"I...every person does it diff--"

"Enough!" she cuts you off. "Really, you should be able to do this. You're killing our metrics!"

"I'm...I'm sorry," you hang your head, trying to not cry again. "I keep getting told different things about how to do the updates."

"Empty apologies and excuses!" Maggie retorts. "I don't know why you got hired. You're bringing us---"

"Margaret," Steve interrupts her. You jump, not realizing he had followed you. "Tell me, Margaret, how do you think your boss would react if he knew you'd been spending half your day on Facebook?"

She fumes at both of you for a minute before going back to her own cubicle.

"I really wish you hadn't done that, Steve," you whisper. "I'm already on their sh-crap list. This is only going to make it worse."

Steve takes a breath, "you're right, I'm sorry. I just really hate bullies."

"Me too," you nod. "But right now I've gotta make these bullies happy, okay?"

"It's not okay," Steve shakes his head. "But I promise I'll be more careful."

"Thank you."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen;

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly

#tech tuesday #tech tuesday: steve rogers #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers x reader #it!steve rogers

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restlessmaknae · 14 days ago

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i'll be the sun // taesan

The last person Taesan - the leader of the school band - expected to bond over music with was you, the head of the Maths club.

➳ Characters: high school senior!Taesan x high school senior!female reader/you

➳ Genre: high school au, rich kids au, slow burn, coming of age, fluff, some real-life bittersweet parts

➳ Words: 8.1k

➳ Warning: mentions of parental pressure, insecurities, reader had a fall-out with her ex best friend, crying

➳ A/N: This story had the most votes in my recent poll, so here it is! I had a lot of fun writing it because music, Taesan and slow burn stories are a good combo.

This is also a spin-off to my Leehan story, but you don't have to read that one to understand Taesan's part

➳ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️

VOTE HERE IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN A TAESAN POV CHAPTER!

You couldn't say that you were looking forward to senior year to start. Moreso, you were looking forward to it to end.

After all, if it was over, you would be over your exams, and if the exams were over, you would be closer to your dream university. Until then, all the assignments seemed daunting, all the extracurricular activities seemed bothersome, and all the tests seemed life-changing. The last thing you expected was to fall in love along the way, but alas, life had a funny way to change your plans.

It all started on a Tuesday. At least, for you, it did.

Since you were the head of the Maths club, you left school later on Tuesdays because that's when you had your weekly club activity. After wrapping things up, you usually stayed behind to print out some more materials for next week and to organise the ones you collected. You also cleaned out the classroom you booked since the cleaning lady usually cleaned the basement during your time slot, not after.

So it was well past 7PM when you made your way back to the homeroom to pick up your PE bag because you didn't want to drag it with you all the way to the basement. You had some books left on your desk either way.

You stepped inside the classroom mindlessly, but you stopped dead in your tracks when you caught sight of someone already there. Taesan was leaning against his seat in the last row, playing on his guitar and bobbing his head to a song with his earphones in. He turned towards the windows with half of his body, so he didn't see you coming in. You noticed that he also closed his eyes while he was playing.

You weren't afraid of Taesan's reaction as per se, but he seemed like he was in his own bubble, and you didn't want to burst it. Alas, you had to get your bag and books, so you tiptoed into the classroom, hoping that the boy wouldn’t hear you moving.

You scooped up your books and threw the sports bag over your shoulder, and not until you turned around, did you realise that you knew the song Taesan was playing. You knew it all too well, and the momentary realisation made you halt just in time for Taesan to open his eyes and take in your presence. He removed his earphones and gazed at you - a bit tentative, but mostly curious.

For a moment, you had no idea how to react. The boy was as unbothered as you were, but there was still some awkwardness lingering in the air, not because it was embarrassing to be in the classroom with someone you didn’t usually talk with, but because you two were very different students on the verge of adulthood, and it was awkward to get caught up in a situation like this.

Not to mention that it felt a bit like déjavu, the flashback from the summer class trip pulling you back to reality.

“It was ‘I Don’t Love You’, right?” You found yourself asking, holding onto the straps of your sports bag to hold onto anything, except the memory from that night during the class trip.

Something flashed in Taesan’s eyes, and you knew immediately that you were right, though there was no reason to deny it. Even though Taesan was the leader of the school band, thus he knew quite a lot about the technical parts of making music, you had never heard him make a comment on anyone’s music taste. What he thought internally was a different question.

“Do you listen to MCR?” He quirked an eyebrow, and still, there was no malice in his voice. If anything, his interest was piqued.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Cool. Me too,” he bobbed his head casually, and you were about to say that you had a feeling that he did since he was playing the band’s song when the cleaning lady marched into the classroom, and made her presence very much known with her high-pitched exclamation:

“What are you doing here at this hour, kids? Go home!”

You heard Taesan scoff behind you, but you didn’t object. You both packed up your stuff and headed out of the classroom, the now empty corridor filled with the cacophony of your footsteps. As far as you could remember, you had never walked side by side with Taesan like this. You had very different interests, he had his own friend group and well… you didn’t, so your interactions were limited to strictly school-related things like group projects, helping out the boy with a Maths task, and being sat beside each other on a class trip.

Yet, it seemed that you now had something to talk about, and Taesan took advantage of that.

“What’s your favourite MCR song?”

You didn’t even have to think twice about the answer.

“ ‘Teenagers’. You might find it funny, but whenever I step foot into the school, this song comes to mind,” you shared with him as you craned your head to look up at him, just in time to catch an amused smile playing along his lips. You had a feeling you didn’t need to tell him why, all those teenagers at school really did scare you sometimes. “What about you?”

“My favourite one is ‘I Don’t Love You’, but since you recognised it, you must know it already,” he answered a bit shyly, scratching the back of his neck as if he was embarrassed.

It was a new sight for you since Taesan was usually straightforward and confident, someone who seemed to be totally at ease with himself. You sometimes envied the way he carried himself; so coolly as if nothing could bother him, and as if he knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. When you looked into the mirror, all you could see was anxiety and question marks floating around your head, and even though you thought you would gain some confidence from being a straight-A student, it did just the opposite. It fuelled your insecurities even more.

You directed a half-smile at the boy, not sure what to do with his reaction, and kept walking towards the entrance on the ground floor. Taesan inquired what kind of artists you listened to other than MCR, and he seemed so excited to talk about his favourite ones that he barely realised that he was waiting with you at the wrong bus stop. You knew that he usually went home with the bus departing from the stop opposite yours because having no friends anymore meant that you were observant like that.

“Oh sorry, I have to go,” he excused himself when you pointed out that his bus was coming. “See you tomorrow!” He bid his farewell while already running towards the vehicle, his guitar case rhythmically hitting his side and his school bag sliding down his right shoulder.

You watched him leave and take a seat on the bus while panting, his hair dishevelled, his tie loose around his neck. He was so different from you who knew the whole bus timetable by heart, never ever even ran after a bus, and always kept herself in check. However, as he caught you staring and gave you a little wave of his hand, you realised that deep down, you wished to be more like him.

And what was sad about it was that you knew that the only one holding you back from being more like him was actually you.

With the third week of the new term starting came the announcement of the random draw for the annual sports’ day. KOZ International High’s sports’ day was your school’s version of ISAC, and even though you were all coming from influential families and all the students had probably enough money to attend the Olympics games in the VIP section, no one complained about the event. In fact, it was all the school magazine and school radio could talk about for almost two months, and everyone tried to put effort into practising for their own games to not lose face.

Each year, all the classes participated in four different categories - mixed 4 x 100 m relay, archery, swimming and dance -, going up against one another within each year. The only category that allowed students to sign up for was dance as only groups could participate, and they needed to be formed in time to seem somewhat professional. Each year, this was the competition everyone was looking forward to the most since usually professional dancers signed up - like Baekseung, Minwoo and Haruto who always won the dance category in your year.

For all the other categories, there was a random draw during homeroom where your teacher announced who should be participating in which category. For freshman and sophomore year, you had been selected for swimming, last year for archery, and this year, you were asked to do the mixed relay with Millie, Pierre and Taesan. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if Pierre hadn’t insisted on making a groupchat for you all and having practice sessions each week to prepare for the sports day at the end of October.

“We can practise in our own free time. I don’t understand why we should all be gathering in one place each week,” you pointed out matter-of-factly when you had your first “team meeting” on the day of the draw.

“Because it’s about team spirit, you know? You might feel more motivated to run your part if you can see others cheering you on,” Pierre pointed out with unnecessarily grand hand gestures, and you needed to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. However, you caught Taesan watching him with an unamused stare, and the sight made you feel less edgy.

“Besides, we need to practise giving each other the baton. I’ve heard that it can make or break a team’s performance,” Millie chirped in, looking up from her phone on which she was typing up until this moment.

This was exactly the reason you had enjoyed doing archery and swimming for the past 3 years. You had been alone with no team to weigh you down or ask you for unnecessary team meetings. You had practised in your own time at your own pace, problem solved. However, the first obstacle came already when you realised that there was not a single day during the week when you could all be free after classes.

“Can’t you just change the time for your band or club activity?” Pierre asked Taesan and you because you two had your extracurriculars on the same day, the only day when Millie and Pierre would be available.

“No.”

“No way,” you said at the exact same time as Taesan did, and you exchanged a glance, knowing all too well what those Tuesday after-school hours meant to both of you.

“Well, can’t you schedule your family dinner for the weekend, Millie?” Pierre tried again, and the deadly glare she got from the British girl was more than enough to shut him up. Even though none of you had a scheduled weekly family dinner, you knew how it was with rich families: studies and family came first, anything else second.

You brought your notebook closer to your face to examine your notes, and tried to calculate which day could work for everyone. Apparently, none did, so you came up with a different idea:

“Why don’t we practise in pairs? Since you and Millie are free on Tuesday afternoons, you can practise then. Taesan and I are free on Thursday afternoons, we can do it then.”

“But then it won’t be the saaaaame,” Millie pouted as if she had been told something awful, to which Taesan said dryly:

“That’s the only option.”

That managed to convince the two of them, and after a few more minutes of painfully cringe team spirit quotes, you could go on your own way. You immediately bolted off, having had enough of this nonsense, but Taesan fell in step with you, and asked if Thursday was really okay with you.

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just don’t want to sacrifice too much time for this, so maybe 30 minutes will do?”

“I was just about to suggest that,” Taesan nodded, a lopsided smile invading his lips, and it felt so easy, so light to talk to him that it actually surprised you. For a second too long, you watched that smile bloom on his lips, and for the first time in four years, you took in the boy’s pitch-black locks that sat messily on top of his head, his equally dark almond-shaped eyes, the defined features of his that were becoming more prominent by the day the closer he got to adulthood, and there was his lanky built, too…

Taesan caught you staring, and you immediately averted your eyes to the mess of the corridor around you instead of the boy’s face because for the first time, it felt scary to feel so light beside someone.

Pierre was very much not the leader type, but he could complain and spam the group chat with gifs of idols running (and failing sometimes). You didn't know what he was doing with all those hagwon classes he claimed to have which made your 4-member practices not work out because you all had hagwon after school, but he was chronically online. You noticed that from the class group chat either way, but it was different when there were only four of you this time and one of them was Taesan, the other one you - the two students who rather focused on their own duties, not this particular group chat.

It was all what students talked about though. Haruto chirped everyone's ears off about their (supposedly jaw-dropping) choreography, Leehan couldn't stop pouting that he and the class president didn't get selected for running, so that they could be in the same team - since they had officially started dating after the summer trip -, and the usual banter between classes started about who would win. This year, Anton - the national swimming champion - didn't get selected for swimming unlike last year, so even that would be an unpredictable competition for the boys.

Honestly, you weren't one for running, but it was something that you could enjoy at times because it helped you concentrate on something other than school. Other times, running around the field wasn't enough to take your mind off the deliberating amount of school work. Especially not when your ex best-friend, Selina, showed up on the field to practise the choreography she and two other girls had come up with for the dance competition.

It was like she was a completely new person - wearing a noticeable amount of make-up instead of her usual no make-up make-up, trying out dancing that she had never dared before and hanging out with girls she had claimed to not particularly like -, and it hurt to see that. Not because you felt envious because of the 180-turn of hers, but because she had said on that one night during the summer trip that she was sick of feeling like second place beside you.

Just because you usually performed better than she did, you had never ever looked at her like a competition, like a charity case. What's more, you enjoyed studying together with her because you were around the same level. Even though your mother cared about your 2nd place at school (after the class president who was always 1st), you had never cared about Selina's 3rd or 4th place.

Clearly, she felt differently.

"Is everything okay?" Taesan's raspy yet gentle voice brought you back to reality, and you immediately turned your head towards him.

"Yeah. Everything's fine," you answered, though you could feel how uncertain the words sounded. How feeble you sounded. "I just... I think it's enough for me for today," you announced, looking down at your wristwatch that indicated that you had started running only 10 minutes ago. You were nowhere near the end of your usual 30-minute session.

"That's fine. I don't really feel like doing it anymore today," the boy shrugged nonchalantly, and you wondered if it was true, or if he was just trying to make you feel better. Either way, you felt grateful for his cool attitude, and went to the changing room without as much as looking back at Selina and the two other girls.

After you got changed and grabbed your stuff, you still found yourself walking towards the windows that were overlooking the school field. Selina did seem a bit awkward, her limbs not catching up with the rhythm, but you couldn't tell whether she actually enjoyed it or not, and that was what gawked at you. The fact that it had been mere months, and you already couldn't tell how she was feeling. Were you always this bad at recognising her feelings? Was this why you had never noticed her feeling like she was someone less worthy than you? Was she right? Had you really made everyone feel insignificant around you?

Something broke in you at the thought, and you found yourself breathless for a moment, holding onto the windowsill for support. You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you were too preoccupied with the tightness of your chest to care. You tried so hard to hold it back, to hold your feelings back ever since the term started that you believed that you could do it without breaking down.

Turns out you were wrong.

"Hey, Y/N! What's wrong?"

Even though Taesan was only a few steps away, his voice felt like it was coming from many miles away. You didn’t look up at him, you didn’t dare to because you didn’t want him to see your tears. Have you ever achieved anything by crying? No. Just more humiliation and more disapproving words from your parents.

“Gosh, this is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, hoping that Taesan would just leave. On the other hand, Taesan didn’t budge for a few seconds, but then, he gently directed you to the closest room and closed the door behind you two.

Suddenly, you were surrounded by the smell of leather and there was this unmistakable smell of a storage room coming from all the different types of sports equipment you used for PE classes. You had rarely been here before since it was usually the class-president and vice-president who had the duty to collect the equipment for class, but it was quiet, and there were no curious eyes around, just Taesan’s concerned ones.

You were waiting - no, anticipating would be a better word - for the boy to speak up, to tell you to stop crying, but he stood there, looking up from under his long eyelashes, orbs shining worriedly. He then reached into the pocket of his bag and reached out a few crumpled yet clean tissues.

His gesture just made everything hurt tenfold.

“Why aren’t you telling me that it’s indeed embarrassing, and to stop crying?” You inquired, confused, eyeing the tissues in his hands. The boy looked taken aback by your question at first, eyes furrowed, creases deeping on his forehead, before his features smoothened out, softened to a gentle degree.

“I can’t tell you how you should feel. If that’s how you feel, I don’t have the right to go against it, but personally I don’t feel embarrassed by the sight of you crying,” he confessed so genuinely, so honestly that you teared up immediately. It was like something awakened inside of you, a part of you that you had hidden so deep that now that it surfaced, it felt unfamiliar and wrong.

You reached for the tissues to dry your eyes, but the tears just kept falling, and somewhere along the way, accompanied by your pained sobs, you found yourself telling Taesan the story behind your argument with Selina. He had been there at the peak of it anyway - just trying to tell you and your ex-best friend that you could come down for the bonfire, but Selina hadn’t heard him behind her and kept on going. She had told you that you had been a terrible friend for not feeling sorry for her when she had always been a worse student than you, and that you didn’t see that you made everyone feel insignificant beside you, that’s why you had only her.

It had started so innocently, not even an argument, just talking about your senior year, but it spiralled down way too quickly, you had just stood there, listening to the girl you had called your best friend for 3 years tell you everything as if you had forced her to bottle things up. Back then, you had been too shocked to react in any way other than numbing your feelings, but now it all burst out. It was ugly, it was messy, but it was also very human, and Taesan didn’t say a derogatory word, he hummed at times to indicate that he was listening, but let you speak freely.

Which was odd, and at first, you didn’t even know what to do with it. Usually, your parents stopped you when you started complaining, and said that you shouldn’t overreact things. However, he didn’t interrupt you even when you were searching for words or blowing out your nose between sobs. He also kept giving you tissues, though he ran out of them after a while, and tucked his hands into the back pocket of his jeans to cover up his awkwardness.

By that time, you were feeling better but also worse. You were lighter than minutes ago, but you were also very, very tired. Maybe holding everything back was actually more exhausting than letting everything out in time.

“Thank you.”

You let the words hang between you two, let Taesan ruminate over it, but he just nodded as if it was nothing, and said with all the confidence in the world:

“Anytime.”

You couldn’t tell if it was intentional or accidental, but after a while, you and Taesan started walking towards the bus stop together on Tuesdays after both of you wrapped up your extracurricular activities. You talked about school to a certain extent, but more often than not, you exchanged song recommendations, sharing not just your favourite ones, but explaining which part was your favourite and why. Taesan was obviously more eloquent when it came to music, but he was always interested to hear your opinion, and didn’t put you down even if the best you could mutter sometimes was that the song made you feel something, though you couldn’t tell what.

You also had your relay practices on Thursday afternoons, and after the first two relatively quiet sessions, you developed the habit of cheering for the other when you measured your time, to see how much you improved. Pierre and Millie did the same, sharing their records with you in the groupchat, so that you could decide in which order you would be running at the event. It was going well, and even though it was exhausting to do this on top of schoolwork, at least you were with Taesan, not Pierre. Sharing silence with Taesan didn’t feel awkward, but you were sure that it would have felt horrible with Pierre.

September passed some lingering sunshine onto October, but as the weather turned colder, you chose to run in the gym hall instead of outside on the sports field. That day, Anton and Jungwon were practising archery together while you were running, but you were the first two to leave with Taesan.

You had heard that it would rain that day, so you had packed an umbrella with you, and how smart of you! You noted that it was indeed pouring inside while walking from the changing room to the entrance of the school. Your steps echoed the way the raindrops were hitting the ground on the other side of the big windows, a constant, never-ending melody. Drip drop, drip drop, step by step, step by step…

You halted only when you pushed the front door open, and found Taesan leaning onto a pillar, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. The tip of his Converse shoes was not fully covered by the roof he was standing under, thus, it got dotted with raindrops. He didn’t seem to notice. He did notice you though, and snapped his head back when he heard you take a few steps towards him.

“Are you waiting for someone?” You inquired casually. Not many of you commuted by public transport because most students lived in the student halls on campus. As it was an international high school, and the school attracted talent from all over the world, there were always enough rooms to accommodate every single student if they wished to make use of them. However, since you were from Seoul, and your parents liked to keep an eye on you during term time, you commuted, but it wasn’t bad, only a 25-minute bus ride.

On the other hand, you had always seen Taesan take the bus, so you wondered if it was different this time. Or maybe he was just trying to wait out the rain.

“Ah no,” he shook his head. “I just stopped to check my messages,” he held up the phone in his hand, and you nodded. He scratched the back of his neck, looking up at you with those big, affectionate eyes, and some icy part of your heart melted, drops of water accumulating around it like the puddles on the ground.

“Do you want to walk together? I have an umbrella,” you offered as you pointed at the big black umbrella in your left hand. Taesan looked at it, then back at you, and his lips curled upwards ever so slightly. From him though, that curve was equal to a grin.

So you opened your umbrella, holding it so that it would cover the boy who was taller than you, and it meant that you instinctively started leaning towards him. It didn’t go unnoticed by him, not when your shoulder bumped into his as you came to a halt at a crossroads. You exchanged a gaze, something that you broke almost immediately because you were sure that your face was flushed. You usually didn’t have a problem with closeness like this, but with him, it was different. It was somewhat more intimate.

“Your shoulder is getting wet,” he pointed out when he averted his eyes to your left shoulder, and caught sight of the raindrops sitting on your autumnal coat.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“Let me…” He mumbled as he reached for the handle, and you let him hold the umbrella over you two instead. He was taller either way, you decided, but then you saw that it was his shoulder that got rained on because he was holding it over you way more than he did it over himself.

“Gosh, you aren’t any better,” you huffed, not letting it slide. You grabbed the handle of the umbrella, but Taesan didn’t let go, so you just stood there, staring at each other in beautiful agony, your hands touching. Your heart fluttering, heat reaching your cheeks, you yanked your hand away, but stepped closer to the boy instead. “See, we can fit under it if we stand close enough to each other.”

“Is it close enough now?” He quirked an eyebrow, and there was a twitch in the corner of his mouth. You couldn’t decide whether there was a teasing edge to his words or a flirtatious one, and you weren’t sure which one would be better.

You gulped, looking away, and noticed the traffic lights turning green. Hence, you prompted the boy to start walking, so you could fall in step with him. He shook his head, and you swore there was an amused smile playing along his lips, but you were too focused on your own thumping heart to care.

You asked Taesan for a new song recommendation if he had any, and you shared one of your new favourite songs, too. It was ‘Beaches’ by beabadoobee, and for some reason, this song reminded you of the times you spent with the boy: light-hearted, reassuring, comforting. Like the first signs of spring - awakening, blooming, bringing warmth - after a long winter.

Of course, you didn’t tell him that, just that you liked the lyrics and the instrumentals used, but you were curious about his opinion. That’s what you did after all: sharing song recs, the other jotting it down in their notes app, listening to it and sharing their opinion on it either the next time you met in person or via Kakaotalk. This way, you always had something to look forward to in your days, and it was like a little safe haven from all the studying.

For the first time in forever, you didn’t even go through the timetable in your head to calculate when your bus would be coming, you only noticed it when it was already there.

“See you tomorrow,” Taesan said as he handed the umbrella back to you, and you found yourself smiling at his words. How reassuring it was to know that you would be meeting the next day as well.

“See you tomorrow,” you echoed with a lighter heart, watching while he was running to the other side of the road to hide from the rain under the bus stop’s shelter.

It was odd how your perception of Taesan could change in a matter of weeks. You felt a certain kind of fondness towards him now that you couldn't really put your hand on because you had never felt this way before, but you wanted only good things for him. You really wished he could become a musician one day because he truly deserved it. His band 'Insomnia' already uploaded covers onto Youtube, and had a fair share of views, and you liked to indulge yourself in their videos more often than you would admit. Even though all of them were very talented - Jungwon on the drums, Gyuvin on the synthesiser, Yechan and Taesan on the guitar -, your attention always gravitated towards Taesan and his voice. His voice was similar to his personality: multiple layered with many unexpected charms and softness hidden behind that edgy tone of his.

Though Taesan once inquired if you heard their songs and you admitted that you did, you thought that it wasn't that big of a deal. Most girls - and even guys - at school listened to them because they were fairly popular. Though Leehan was the most popular boy in your year, followed by Yechan with his jokester personality and ever-growing Youtube channel, the other members of the band also had their fair share of popularity. Then, there was Anton who was a national swimming champion, so naturally, everybody knew him, but he didn't really let his presence be known outside of the swimming pool, so it was a quiet kind of fame in his case.

Not that popularity really mattered in your eyes, but you found it somewhat heart fluttering that Taesan would be interested in your opinion regarding their band, and your conversations didn't stop even after the sports day when you came in second with your team. Only Pierre made a ruckus about it though, you and Taesan merely exchanged high-fives, and agreed that you were glad that it was over.

However, you didn't think that the boy would one day ask you if you wanted to hear a snippet of a song he was working on.

“Sure. If you don't mind,” you told him after a few seconds of silence while you were contemplating whether he was serious about asking for your opinion.

“It's not finished yet, I'm still trying to see what direction it should go in, but I'm curious what you think about it,” he explained as he brought his earphones out of his pocket, plugged it into his phone, tapped something on the screen and reached it out to you.

It was just you and him in the classroom as usual on Tuesdays, Taesan sitting in the seat behind yours. You turned around to face him, reluctantly grabbing his earphones and putting them into your ears. There was just something so intimate about this gesture of his: sharing his own song idea with you and sharing his own earphones with you that you needed to pacify your crazily beating heart to actually hear the song.

The snippet that you heard seemed to be the beginning of a love song, and the first thing that came to your mind was how cosy it was, and how easy it was to listen to it. It was something different from Insomnia’s usually punk-rock heavy songs, but the instrumentals were still there, just softer. Like how he had been acting around you despite his seemingly colder facade. The lyrics were about keeping ‘you’ in their memories, and promising to protect ‘you’ which sent a chill down your spine because for a moment, it felt like he was really singing to you.

Taesan kept his eyes on his phone's screen to see where the recording was at, so he immediately looked up when the song finished. He quirked an eyebrow in question while you took out the earphones.

“So…” He cleared his throat before continuing, albeit rather reluctantly. “How did you like it?”

“I liked it, I really did. It was softer than the songs you usually play, but I liked this side of you,” you remarked with a gentle smile, and something caught in his eyes which made you falter. If he was more shocked or just intrigued, you couldn't tell, but you... you were horrified. “I mean, this side of your music... uhmm... your music style.”

You were sure that you were blushing like crazy because how could that have just slipped out? Gosh, this was so embarrassing…

“But I would have made the beginning part a bit longer, so that it could stand out a bit more,” you added, hoping to save yourself from further embarrassment.

You averted your eyes to the desk instead of his face, so you couldn't tell how he reacted, but he jotted down your opinion nevertheless.

“Thanks. I was actually thinking of changing up that part, so thanks for reinforcing that idea.”

You dared to look up at him at this time, and there was this soft smile playing along his lips that made your stomach do somersaults. It was so rare to see him smile like that, and when you were the reason for it, all of your tenseness regarding your own actions melted away.

“Actually, I wanted to show you this song because…”

“Is it you two again?” Came the cleaning lady's indignant voice from the classroom door, and you both snapped your heads back to look at her. Hands on her hips, eyebrows furrowed, the elderly woman didn't seem too happy to find you two in the classroom after 7 o’ clock yet again.

You had to suffer through a few more reprimanding sentences of hers while you were packing up your stuff to leave. Once outside of the school, you asked Taesan what he was trying to say before.

“Ah nevermind,” he shrugged, looking away, and you didn't push him to tell you.

So you continued your walk to the bus stop like always, as if nothing happened, as if he hadn't just showed you a song that could make you question your own feelings towards him, and ultimately, his own feelings towards you.

On Tuesdays, it was usually you who finished sooner, and Taesan was already in the classroom by the time you made your way back there. Not this time though.

You managed to bump into the whole band when you walked out of the room you booked for the Maths club. Unbeknownst to you, you halted in front of the four boys, your eyes darting between Taesan and the rest of the guys.

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Yechan cheered excitedly, grinning widely. You reciprocated his greeting and his smile, holding the notebook and the folder you used to your chest.

“Done with the Maths club for today?” Gyuvin inquired, and you immediately confirmed that you did, but then you realised that he didn’t necessarily have to know what you were doing there. After all, if it hadn’t been for Taesan, you wouldn’t have known that Insomnia was practising on Tuesdays at this time around.

“How do you know that?”

“Oh well,” the boy boasted a childish grin, gazing at Taesan from time to time to signal his answer to you, but the head of the school band appeared nonchalant. “Somebody did tell us about it.”

“Not even just once, but multiple times,” Jungwon chimed in, sharing the boys’ teasing, and you had to sniffle a giggle at Taesan’s reaction. The boy tried so hard to seem totally unaffected by the obvious callout, but he was avoiding your eyes, chewing on his lower lip, his hands flying to the back of his neck to scratch it. Something that he did when he was ever so scarcely embarrassed.

“I see,” you hummed knowingly, amused by the guys’ little display of playfulness before Yechan smacked his head.

“Oh guys, I think we need somewhere to be! You know, the thing I told you about before practice…” He announced out of the blue, and even though a flash of surprise crossed Gyuvin’s face, he recovered quickly, and both him and Jungwon acted like they knew exactly what he was talking about. Taesan, on the other hand, seemed awfully perplexed with his furrowed eyebrows and forehead creases.

“Now let’s go, let’s not waste any time. See you at school tomorrow, Taesan! And Y/N, of course,” Yechan hollered before exiting the scene, followed by the grinning Gyuvin and a smiling Jungwon who looked like he came straight out of a toothpaste commercial.

You watched them leave with a light-hearted smile, then looked at the boy in front of you who seemed awfully nervous. It was vastly different to who he really was - the usually cool and composed Han Taesan, the leader of Insomnia, someone who had never lost his patience before. Now, he seemed like a lost kitten who couldn’t find their way around an alley, and the thought made your lips curve upwards.

“Heading to the bus stop?” You asked matter-of-factly, hoping to ease the slight awkwardness in the air.

Taesan’s shoulders visibly dropped when he caught your gaze, and he was about to open his mouth, but closed it in the end. You quirked an eyebrow, suddenly confused by his gesture, but then he spoke up:

“Actually, do you remember that song of mine I showed you last time? Do you want to hear the final version? I finished it yesterday,” he suggested casually, but there was a hint of doubt lacing his words. On the other hand, you couldn’t have been more sure of an answer, so you nodded, and followed him into the practise room they usually occupied.

Even though the room already boasted many musical instruments, the boy got his guitar out of his case with as much elegance as only a well-practised artist could. After setting it up, so that he could play comfortably, he started playing the song from last time. He did work on making the beginning of the song longer, and there were parts that he changed a bit, but overall, it had the same cosy vibe. The lyrics were also extended, him singing that he wanted to be a hero, an angel or whatever you wanted to call someone you could lean on to ‘you’, and when the words left his mouth, a pleasant shiver ran down your spine.

You were totally caught up in your feelings - as if the melody wrapped you up, and you were just spinning inside the hurricane of his, going round and round with each passing second. There was nothing else around you, just him and the song. It felt a bit like you were in your own world, something that just the two of you had, that’s why the silence that followed the last accords felt so striking.

Taesan put his guitar to the side after he finished, and you found yourself clapping instinctively. You didn’t think too much into the gesture, but the boy was fighting a smile, and eventually failed. A beautiful, grateful smile blossomed in its wake.

“Before you ask, I liked it a lot. It felt light and comforting,” you admitted before asking about the inspiration behind the song because you were genuinely curious about it. He had mentioned before that a lot of his songs were inspired by books, movies and stories he heard from others, so you wondered if it was the same this time as well.

His eyes widened a bit hearing your question, and for a moment, you thought that you asked something intimate. Then, he sucked in a deep breath before confessing:

“It was inspired by you.”

“By me?” You repeated, exasperated.

“Yeah. I started working on it after I saw you crying that day,” he started, and even though his voice didn’t waver, you could feel that he wasn’t completely confident in his answer. “I don’t think I was the best at reassuring you back then, so I wrote this song because this is what I wanted to say then. I’m just not really good with words, you see,” he let out a little, somewhat ashamed giggle by the end, averting his eyes from your face to the strand of cotton he was currently picking on his pants.

You were speechless for a few seconds, digesting his words - or rather his confession. You were convinced that he had been the best kind of reassurance he could have been at the time, and you appreciated that he had listened to you, that he had told you that you could feel however you wanted, he wasn’t embarrassed by the sight of you crying, and then there had been his crumpled tissues, too.

The reason you didn’t mind spending time with him, rather, you felt comforted by his presence was because of that night: because he had seen you at such a low point, he had heard your sob story regarding Selina, and he hadn’t turned his back on you. Not out of pity because Taesan would be the last person who would do something like that out of pity, but because he truly wanted to get to know you better.

“I… I think you did enough back then. I was the one who felt ashamed because I thought I said too much, and I didn’t want to open up to someone in case…” In case they would leave you like Selina did. In case they felt insignificant, and called you a horrible person. In case they broke your heart just enough to make you never want to lend it to another person, ever again.

Taesan hummed, playing with his fingers resting in his lap before finding your eyes, and he gave you that soft smile that you were so grateful to see on him.

“You don’t have to worry about that. As I’ve said in the song, you can lean on me,” he reassured you gently, and everything ceased to exist in that moment, even time itself. It felt like your heart - that had not been thumping before - now beat for the very first time, awakening from its deep, deep sleep.

And you welcomed this warm, fuzzy feeling inside your chest with open arms.

To be honest, you were scared of this newfound feeling at first. It was as if everything was so easy, so natural. Nothing ever felt forced with Taesan. Sometimes you had lunch together at the canteen, sometimes you didn’t. Sometimes you stopped by each other’s desk in the morning to talk, sometimes you didn’t. Sometimes he asked you to help him with a Maths problem, sometimes you talked about anything but school.

On top of that, you were scared of this feeling because of the timing as well. Senior year seemed like the worst possible time to fall in love. However, after a while, you couldn’t deny it. You tried, you really did try to push these feelings aside, and Taesan was gentle enough to not push you for an answer. Even though he hadn’t confessed as per se, you highly doubted that a song like his would be inspired by someone who was just a friend.

As time went by, Christmas break rolled around, and you didn’t see him for some time. Then, he didn’t show up at school the following week because he had come down with a cold or so you were told by Leehan. So the next time you saw him, you had every reason to be looking forward to seeing him, and it was just your luck that it was a Tuesday as well, so you were more than sure that you would leave the school together.

You were right, but as you were leaving the building, you stopped the boy, and reached a knitted wool scarf out to him, something that matched his dark winter coat. Taesan eyed it for a few seconds before you broke it down to him:

“It’s for you. I wouldn’t have to give you one if you just got yourself a scarf, especially after being sick last week,” you told him, and you realised that you were almost reprimanding him. How could you not though? He was still not wearing a scarf, and it was freezing cold now.

“It was just a cold,” he justified, but there was an amused smile in the corner of his lips. Mind you, this was not a usual behaviour from you, but last week, you had enough time to ponder about his whereabouts before asking Leehan. Because apparently, it was embarrassing to tell you through Kakaotalk that he was sick, so you had to ask his best friend.

“Still, I was worried when you didn’t show up on Monday.”

“Oh, so you were worried about me?” He raised an eyebrow, playfully leaning closer to you while grabbing the scarf. For a few seconds, you two just stared at each other, stared into each other’s eyes, and it was so easy to get lost in those deep, dark galaxies. Then, you willed yourself to tear your gaze away, and pushed the scarf into his hands once and for all, a bit more forcefully than you intended.

“This is not funny, Taesan. I just don’t want you to get sick again, okay? I couldn’t help but worry about you last week, and I’ve missed spending time with you, so if you don’t want to skip out on that, I suggest you take that scarf and dress warmly.”

“You missed spending time with me?” Taesan repeated, the playfulness slowly leaving his voice, his tone taking on a more serious and curious layer. He eyed you for a good second before asking: “Why?”

“Because I like you, why else?” You threw your hands into the air, exasperated, because you had enough of his teasing for the day, but when you realised what you had just said, your hands flew to your mouth.

You didn’t expect to tell him that so straightforwardly, let alone do this just in front of the school with the scarf you had gotten him still in his hand, but it just burst out, and there was no stopping it. Not that Taesan seemed to mind as his lips slowly curled upwards in a somewhat coy manner, and his reaction immediately made you feel relieved.

“That’s good… because I like you, too,” he confessed, and put the scarf around your neck to pull you close to him. You smiled into his embrace as his arms slowly enveloped you, and although it was winter, it felt like being embraced by the sun.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think! 😊

Click here for my BND masterlist

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for BOYNEXTDOOR or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here. 🥰

Also, some fun little details and researches because they heavily inspired the story:

Title taken from Taesan's self-composed song called 'sink into the memory' which is also the song that was inspired by reader in the story (when Taesan finishes the song in the story, the lyrics' interpretation is totally made up by me)

Here is Taesan singing MCR's 'I Don't Love You'

Here is Taesan talking about his top 3 MCR songs

Header taken from this WHY Concept Film

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

#boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x you #bnd x reader #bnd imagines #bnd scenarios #bnd x you #taesan x reader #taesan x you #taesan scenarios #taesan imagines #boynextdoor fluff #bnd fluff #taesan fluff #boynextdoor angst #bnd angst #taesan angst

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paisleypens · 6 months ago

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too cool pt. 2 | spencer agnew x f!reader

the hair i’m crying.

thank you for the love on the last one!! here’s part 1

i was so busy recently but i love this story so let me know what you think! new part soon trust

~~~

In the days that followed their impromptu trip to the park, Spencer panicked over his feelings for Y/N. He hadn’t felt this close to anyone in a non platonic way in a while. After endless hours of thinking about her and their excursion, Spencer realized something haunting. No way was he cool enough for someone like her. Yes they could nerd out together, but why would she want to be with someone like that? He concluded that Y/N would never choose him as the ideal guy for her.

The next few days passed in a blur of meetings, rehearsals, and editing sessions. Spencer and Y/N maintained their easy rapport, but the unspoken tension simmered beneath the surface, growing more palpable with each passing interaction.

It was during a casual lunch break that the topic of relationships surfaced. They sat at a small table, sandwiches forgotten as they engaged in a lighthearted debate about romantic comedies.

"I've never been a fan of those over-the-top love stories," Spencer commented, taking a sip of his Kickstart.

Y/N raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, really? You’re too cool for a good slow-burn romance?"

Spencer chuckled, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "Well, I suppose there's something nice about the anticipation, the build-up between two people. But maybe I'm just not cool enough to get it."

Their eyes met briefly, a shared misunderstanding of their words passing between them before they both looked away, the moment lingering in the air like an unspoken confession.

As the days passed, their dance of denial continued. They buried their feelings beneath layers of professional camaraderie, exchanging playful banter and supportive gestures while tiptoeing around the undeniable chemistry that crackled between them.

It was a delicate balance, a silent agreement to keep their emotions in check for the sake of their work and friendship. But with each passing day, the longing glances and fleeting touches spoke volumes, unspoken desires waiting to be acknowledged.

As the days turned into weeks and the unspoken tension between Spencer and Y/N continued to simmer, Spencer found himself grappling with a realization he couldn't ignore—he was falling for her.

It was an unusually quiet Tuesday afternoon in the office, the usual hustle and bustle replaced by a serene calm. Spencer sat at his desk, fingers tapping absently on the keyboard as he tried to focus. But his mind kept drifting, thoughts consumed by Y/N and the unspoken emotions that had taken root in his heart.

He replayed moments in his mind—the shared laughter, the stolen glances, the way her eyes lit up when they discussed their favorite games. Each memory was like a whispered confession, a testament to the depth of his feelings. Spencer leaned back in his chair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He knew he couldn't continue denying his feelings, couldn't keep pretending that his heart didn't ache every time Y/N walked away.

“Hey, you good man? You’re looking pretty… gone right now.” Spencer's friend and closest working relationship, Shayne Topp, asked him.

“Yeah… yeah uh what’s up?” Spencer coughed out.

“Well I was going to ask what your dinner plans are but… do you want to talk?” Shayne asked, his eyebrows sewing together in worry.

“No it’s dumb I don’t- I don’t even know what i’d say.” Spencer answered, slumping down in his chair farther.

“Shoot.”

“Well… I really like someone. I- I can’t get her out of my head. I can’t work, I can barely sleep when I could just stay up thinking about her.” Spencer admitted.

“Damn, to be honest I never thought I would see this day. What’s stopping you from getting her?” Shayne questioned, laughing at his school yard confession.

“I don’t man have you seen me?”

“Uh yeah you’re the ideal man.”

“Very funny. But no I'm serious she’s- let’s just say she is way too cool for me. Very far out of my league.”

“Dude have you seen my relationship? If you like her that much it’s dumb to torture yourself like this.”

“Yeah but, we're friends. What if I screw it up?”

“But what if you don’t?”

#smosh #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew #smoshblr #smosh x reader #smosh fanfiction #fluff #paisleypens

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st7rnioioss · 8 months ago

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౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ arguments with bf!matt headcanons pt. 2

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: fluff, idk??😫 some are kiiind of suggestive, sorry i cant help it

a/n: hello hello, long awaited part 2😛 enjoy😇 i fell asleep btw HELP i’m so sorry i took so long

part 1

౨ৎ

- Wanting to sleep on the couch because you got into an argument? Not happening. Matt is picking you up when he’s sure you’re asleep, gently placing you in your shared bed, pulling you closer (angry cuddles - pt. 1). Even tho you’re still upset with each other, he’s not going to bed without you beside him.

- (suggestive!!) Matt noticed you had gotten jealous because he posted a picture with a past girlfriend. He’d laugh it off at first, laughing at your stern face, pulling you in to kiss you. He quickly made sure to show you how much he loves you. (as in spending the whole night in his room, making sure when you wake up tomorrow you’re sure he’s the only girl he could ever want).

- I can never imagine Matt fighting for real with his girlfriend. I feel like both of you would realise it was built up stress or tiredness and had nothing to do with each other. After yelling for a bit he’d pull you in for a hug, whispering ‘sorry’.

- (suggestive!!) If he’s cocky enough he’d have make-up sex with you. Soft, slow sex, whispering countless times how sorry he is and how much he loves you. He wouldn’t do this all the time as he prefers to talk it out. Getting to understand exactly what you’re feeling and why, and the other way around.

- Taking you on late night drives!! He’d pull you into the passenger seat even tho you protested, driving around town, maybe getting food, talking it out like this. You didn’t protest though, deep down this is one of your favourite ways to spend time with Matt.

- One time you had gotten so upset you left his house to go to your own, even tho you practically lived with the triplets. Friday rolled around, and Thursday night there was no car video recorded yet. Saturday morning you checked your phone, realising they hadn’t posted their Friday video. You got concerned, going to their house to find Nick and Chris in the living room.

‘Is everything alright? I noticed you guys didn’t post anything yesterday.’ you asked as you sat beside Nick, Chris looking up from his phone.

‘Yeah, Matt is fucking miserable. I don’t know, he said you guys got into an argument this Tuesday. He haven’t left bed.’ Chris mumbled, looking back down on his phone.

Immediately you sat up, finding Matt huddled up in his bed. There was dark, the curtains still shut, no light from his phone. You tiptoed closer, realising he was asleep. He looked peaceful, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty.

Your clothes was in Matt’s closet, taking a hoodie and a pair of pyjamas pants to cuddle up against Matt’s back. He must’ve waken up, because he mumbled a low ‘is it you? y/n?’, turning his head.

‘Yeah, it’s me. I’m so so sorry, Matt.’ you smiled apologetically, caressing his cheek with your thumb. His expression softened, leaning in to kiss your lips.

‘God, I’ve missed that.’ he whispered, a smile tugging on his lips before he leaning in again.

- After having an episode like this (literally one time), he’d take you out the next day. You insisted it should be the other way around since you had been in the wrong, but Matt insisted on taking you (in reality he just wanted to be ‘friends again’).

- I CANT STOP MAKING SCENARIOS, BUT FOLLOW ALONG.

‘Matt, you’re annoying. Go away.’ I hissed, pushing Matt away from attempting to kiss me with a hand on his chest. I was keeping my gaze on my phone in front of me. I had moved to the couch after our tiny discussion.

‘Oh, come on. Are you still mad?’ Matt smirked, kind of amused by your reaction. It seemed like nothing to him, but you were pretending to be pissed.

‘You’re not funny. Move, I can’t see my phone.’ I pushed his head away. Matt stood up, looking at me for a second before returning to his room.

After a tiny hour, I felt my eyes getting droopy. It was scrolling mindlessly, my eyes half closed. I decided to stand up as my head was literally tilting to the side.

Almost falling over my own feet, I stumbled into Matt’s room, dropping to my knees onto his bed. ‘Someone changed their mind, hm?’ Matt teased, looking up from his phone.

‘Shut up.’ I mumbled, closing my eyes as my head hit his chest, cuddling up in his covers. I almost instantly fell asleep, the last thing I noticed being Matt turning off the light, pulling me closer with a kiss on the top of my head.

- If Matt had to leave early the next day after an argument, I’m so convinced he’d leave a small note or letter along with a flower (or two) on the kitchen counter

a/n: if you couldn’t tell, i was running out of ideas🤩

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost let me know if you'd like to be added!

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allywthsr · 1 year ago

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THE SONG OF OUR LOVE | (h. lewis)

summary: a normal day in the Wroetoshaw household

wordcount: 2.1k words

pairing: harrylewis x singer!reader

warnings: none

notes: first imagine! please be nice and comment your thoughts! The song Y/N is writing is : all 4 nothing by lauv :)

On this surprisingly warm Tuesday morning, you woke up at around 9:00 am. Despite having an early studio session, which didn’t start before 11:00 am, you decided to get up early.

Your boyfriend of eight years is still sound asleep on your shared bed.

The cutest little snores came out of his slightly opened mouth.

You looked into the mirror you had put up on the wall, seeing your T-shirt, well, Harry’s T-shirt, an old Sidemen merch you pulled out of the other side of the closet a few days ago. And an old pair of shorts you bought from your favorite shop when you first moved to London.

On your tiptoes, you sneak out of your bedroom trying not to wake up your favorite person.

You had this song idea stuck in your head and you needed to write it down or record it somehow. Thinking of the recording app you had installed on your phone, you went to your home studio, which the boys of your crew had set up for you.

You opened the door and to the left, all of your guitars were hanging on the wall. Yet your favorite guitar was standing next to the fluffy white couch you picked out for this room. Wanting to have a comfy and nice looking space for when you were creative.

The couch was mostly used by your boyfriend Harry when he was lounging on it while listening to your recording or mostly writing melodies and lyrics.

Across from the couch you had your little setup. A table where you placed your monitor, attached to the table is a microphone which you could move around to any position you‘d like, some noise-canceling headphones were placed on top of the microphone, ready to be picked up. And last but not least, the matching white fluffy chair, where you spend hours and hours trying to write the perfect song.

When you woke up, at around 1:00 am, when Harry went to bed after a little work dinner with Callux, Calfreezy, Chip, and Will (which turned into a ’who can down the most Sambuca shots in 10 seconds‘ challenge), you had this song stuck in your head. You just needed to write it down somehow, too scared that you wouldn’t remember it when you went to the actual studio.

You sat down on your couch and picked up the guitar next to you. Getting your phone out, you opened the recording app and pressed play.

You started to play the guitar quietly trying to play the melody you had stuck in your head.

After finding the right tune you started to hum quietly.

”I‘m so in love, I‘m so in love

I don’t ever wanna stop this ride that we’re on

I don’t ever wanna say goodbye

Then all of these nights they would be just for nothing“

Thinking of Harry, you wrote another love song. This boy is stuck in your head and you can’t seem to get him out of there, not that you wanted to.

The thought of saying goodbye to him made your heart clench. After being in a relationship for a bit longer than eight years and knowing each other since primary school, you couldn’t imagine a life without him.

He was your soulmate, and you were his.

You’ve spent so many nights talking, laughing and just enjoying each other’s presence while both of you had a busy day ahead, often oversleeping in the morning and being late to important meetings, these nights couldn’t be for nothing.

”Third of October

We were never sober

First few times that we hung out

But we fell in love somehow“

Third of October, the day that Harry asked you to be his. It was back in Guernsey. You guys went for a walk and that’s where he asked you.

The first time you hung out with him as in ‘I like him more than a friend‘ was at parties. With him being 19 and you 18, you were allowed to legally drink alcohol and both of you did that. A lot. You don’t remember much, but some of your friends took pictures of you that first night you went out together. It was in July 2015 and you came to London for a visit, Harry insisting to go for a ‘few pints‘. The few pints turned into a few shots and before you realized both of you were peppered.

The picture shows you on a bench near a park as Harry clung to you while you were trying to hold your puke in.

Not one of your greatest moments but definitely a key one for your relationship.

After that you started to visit Harry more often in London, always going out to clubs but you guys also had your quiet moments.

Cuddling with a raging hangover after a wild night out. Or playing Mario Kart when you both couldn’t sleep, getting too angry at the other for throwing blue or red shells.

In October he came to Guernsey and that’s where it happened.

”First time that I met you

I didn't have a damn clue

That I love everything about you

Now I can't think of life without you“

The first time you met him was the first day of primary school. You instantly clicked and hit it off perfectly. With playdates, sleepovers, and exploring the island together.

It was clear from the beginning to both of your parents that you would end up together.

You never thought of Harry that way until you turned 16. Suddenly your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, you felt nervous to talk to him and whenever you guys touched, you thought a lightning struck through your body.

Thinking back to that time, brought a smile to your lips, not able to imagine a life without him anymore.

”Eh, did you know that you're my whole heart?

Eh, did you know that I never stop? No

Giving you everything I got 'cause I'm so

I'm so in love, I'm so in love“

You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have Harry by your side. At this point, if he would leave, you would follow him, because he‘s yours and you’re his.

”and then just repeating the beginning and maybe another verse not sure about that yet“

You told basically yourself so you wouldn’t forget what you wanted to do with the rest of the song.

Just as you were about to press the stop recording button, the door to your studio opened and a very sleepy Harry came through it.

”what are you doing? I woke up and you weren’t by my side anymore“

You let out a laugh, ”I had this song idea stuck in my head since you came home. I needed to record it somehow.“

You put the guitar back onto its stand making sure the app was still recording, as you loved putting little extras of talking at the beginnings or endings of songs.

”Oh really? Can I listen to it?“ Harry came closer to you. You stood up and gave him a hug.

”I wanna record a demo in the studio later and then I can show you,“ Harry not being happy with this answer looked at you with a pout on his lips.

You giggled and kissed his lips, which just looked absolutely delicious this morning, with his beard being a bit longer than usual.

Harry being Harry, tried to deepen the kiss.

”No Harry come on, I have to go to the studio soon and you have meetings and a video shoot later, we don’t have time.“

”I only need five minutes, Y/N please.“

You shake your head and looked at him with your stern look.

Harry let out a sigh.

”Get a girlfriend, they said, it’s going to be fun, they said,“ he looked at you playful.

You slapped his chest, and now it was your turn to pout.

”Harry I‘d love to, but we really have no time. Later, alright? I wanted to ask you something anyway,“ you loosened your arms from the embrace you still shared. ”I wanted to go to Talia later, to talk about recording a song together, do you wanna come? Talia said Simon is going to be there too.“

”Yeah sure,“ he nodded while a grin started to form on his face, ”but if you want to see Mushu, you can just say so, you know. Don’t have to pretend that you want to record with Talia.“

You looked at him offended. You loved Mushu, ever since T and Simon got him, you‘ve been nagging Harry to get a dog. He‘s still refusing, constantly reminding you what happened to Herb. Your argument, that you both were practically kids and weren’t even able to take care of yourself when you got little Herb, does not convince Harry in any way.

”I love my Talia and we‘ve talking about recording music together for ages now. Even thought about making a whole album and just call it ’the sidewomen‘ to get more money, you know using your name and stuff,“ you grinned at him. ”But yeah, Mushu is also a reason I wanna go there,“ now changing into your baby voice, ”I mean have you seen that sweet fluffy face? He’s a furball, how can you not love him?“ A smile appears on your face just at the thought of Mushu and his incredibly soft fur.

”You know, sometimes I‘m scared you will leave me for a dog,“ Harry voiced his concern.

”Maybe you should start barking before I actually do.“

”I love you, Y/N, I really do.“

Your heart forms into a puddle and the pout appears on your lips again.

”I love you too, you’re the sweetest.“

You shared a kiss, as Harry’s hand connected with your right ass cheek, creating a loud slap sound.

”HARRY,“ you let out a shriek.

”I would love you even more if you would finally join me in the bedroom again.“

A grin appears on your face.

”Alright, but we really have no time. Let me just save the recording and then I‘ll come.“

With Harry leaving the room, you turned around and walked to your phone which still lays on the couch, where you left it.

You pressed the button, to stop recording. With a smile you saved it, making sure you could hear Harry and you talking, as you knew what to put at the end of the song you just recorded.

Taking your phone with you, you walked to the bedroom where Harry was waiting for you.

/////////////////////

When you and Harry both returned from the duties you had for the day, it was around 4:00 pm. You’ve been in the studio all day, recording the song you thought of this morning.

And Harry had a recording session with the boys for more Sidemen and Side+.

You’ve been excited all the time you’ve spent in the studio to finally show Harry the new song.

With Harry lounging on the couch, typing away on his phone, as you walked through the door of your living room, you couldn’t wait to be in his arms again.

You threw yourself on top of him. Harry immediately put his arms around you and squeezing you close. With your head propped up on his chest and the perfect view of his face, you couldn’t believe he was yours.

”Hiya“, you smiled at him, looking into his eyes.

”Hey there“, he smiled back at you, as he started to rub his hands up and down your back.

”I have the first demo version of the new song I started on today, you wanna listen to it?“

Before he answered, he moved your legs on both sides of his and sitting up straight, so you sat on his lap.

”What a question, of course Y/N. Show me right now.“

You giggled at his serious expression and pulled out your phone where the producer of the studio saved one of the versions.

”But have in mind, this is only a demo version, it’s not perfect and still a lot is missing.“

”As if I care, just show me.“

You selected the file of the final demo version and clicked play. Turning up the volume a bit more and your voice filled the room.

”I'm so in love…“

After the last chorus was played Harry wanted to start talking, but you only placed your index finger on his lips to shush him.

Harry looked at you confused with a tilted head, curious what’s gonna come after the song was finished and then he heard his own voice.

”You know, sometimes I‘m scared you will leave me for a dog.“

”Maybe you should start barking before I actually do.“

”I love you, Y/N, I really do.“

”I love you too, you’re the sweetest.“

#harry lewis #w2s #w2s x reader #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw imagine #harry wroetoshaw #singer!reader #sidemen #sidemen imagine #british youtubers #youtube

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just-jordie-things · 1 year ago

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[part five] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 4.4k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist

[part five] : "Quality Time"

___

With Satoru’s watchful eyes gone for the week, (y/n) was able to sneak off campus during most of her free time after classes were finished.

On Tuesday, she stopped by the Fushiguro household to get started on chores. She spent the whole afternoon and evening cleaning and organizing. And when the day was done, she happily made the kids a big dinner and dessert. She won Megumi over just a little more with strawberry shortcakes.

On Wednesday, she picked them up from school, much to their surprise. She took them on a shopping spree for some new clothes. Tsumiki happily brought dresses, skirts, blouses, and shoes to her dressing room. Megumi had a little more trouble picking out the things he liked, but after waiting forever for his sister to try everything on, he finally chose a few items for himself. Again, (y/n) sent them to bed with full bellies.

On Thursday, she finally got a call from Tsumiki, who was only calling because she was hoping that (y/n) would come by again, just to hang out. (y/n) happily agreed and told her she’d be there first thing that afternoon. When the call ended, she held her phone to her chest and couldn’t contain her grin, happy to be wanted. When she arrived, she suggested they go to the park. Megumi blew off some steam from school on the swingset, while Tsumiki sat in the sandbox and made little castles. (y/n) spent the afternoon listening to Tsumiki open up more, about her friends at school, what subjects she was good at and which ones she needed help in, and (y/n) was happy to hear all about it. She could only hope that soon Megumi extended the same notion of friendship.

On Friday, Tsumiki asked if (y/n) would read to her before she left for the night.

“Mom used to,” She admitted in a small voice. “It helped me sleep”

Lingering in the doorway of her bedroom, (y/n’s) heartstrings were thoroughly tugged. How could she possibly refuse?

“Of course,” She said softly, and stepped into her bedroom, glancing over the small bookshelf. “What would you like to hear?”

A small tug on the back of her shirt made her turn around. You could imagine her surprise to see Megumi standing there, a book outstretched in his little hand. (y/n) recognized it as the book he often read when he went to bed. She’d never taken a second glance at the cover.

She took it from him, examining it closer, now.

“Charlotte’s Web, huh?” She mused, smiling down at him.

Megumi looked away, but she saw his pink cheeks anyways.

“I loved this book when I was your age,” (y/n) said. “I haven’t read it in forever”

With that, she wanders over to Tsumiki’s little desk, dragging the child-sized chair there with her to the side of the bed where the little girl was patiently but eagerly waiting.

Megumi hesitated at the bedroom door, unsure of whether or not he wanted to come inside and stay for the story, or go back to his own room. His small hands play with the hem of his pajama shirt. (y/n) didn’t pressure him to come in, instead she just flipped to the first page and began reading.

The boy never did come and sit in Tsumiki’s bed, but he did listen for a while, until he was too tired and retreated to his own bed for the night. Soon after, Tsumiki fell asleep as well. (y/n) marked the page they left off on, and tiptoed out of the room, turning off the lights and quietly wishing both the children a good night’s sleep.

As she leaves the house, she draws a curtain of protection, which she’d done every night for the last week, and makes her way home.

When she got back to Jujutsu Tech, it was far later than any of the previous times she’s snuck back on campus. Almost eleven o’clock. The long walk home was tiring enough, but she’d grown quite tired just from reading aloud back at the Fushiguro house. So when she finally crossed over the threshold of the barrier, she was lazily stumbling, a bit tired.

Unbeknownst to her, Shoko Ieri was having a late-night smoke break on the roof of the dormitories. The perfect place for viewing the front gates, and the familiar figure of her best friend dragging herself onto the property.

Curiously, the short haired woman pulled the cigarette from her lips. She hadn’t even known (y/n) had left campus today, she thought that she had a tutoring session with one of the first years. She’d been offering her tutoring services for a week or so now, supposedly looking for some extra cash. For what, Shoko wasn’t sure. But she wondered if it had anything to do with her sneaking back home in the middle of the night.

A smirk plays on her lips as her mind wanders with the possibilities. Whatever it was she was doing, it must have been mighty interesting for her to sneak around to do it.

A boy, perhaps? She wonders. Or girl?

The idea has her chuckling, as she replaces her cigarette between her lips and leans back against the roof’s tiles comfortably. She could keep this to herself, for now, she presumes. Just to see how exactly this plays out.

With Satoru having been gone all week, there wasn’t much drama to keep entertained with, anyways.

As she blows a cloud of smoke above her, watching it slowly disappear into the sky, Satoru crossing her mind raises an interesting thought. What would he think of (y/n) sneaking around Tokyo past curfew to meet up with some mysterious stranger?

Shoko smiles to herself, shutting her eyes as she takes another, slower drag.

This was bound to be interesting. ___

On Saturday, (y/n) finally allows herself some extra time in the morning to sleep in. The past five days she’d woken up first thing in the morning to train with her cursed technique, only to rush to her classes for the day, tutoring first thing after, and then off to tend to the Fushiguro kids for the rest of her night. It had been a nonstop week, but she knew that was what she was signing up for when she told herself she would do right by Toji’s children.

Tutoring had helped her to get some money in her pocket, and she wasn’t so bad at it either. But it took up any extra scrap of free time she might have had between school and the kids. She was lucky that Yaga hadn’t extended any assignments her way in the last couple weeks, but that only meant the more time passed, the more likely he was to approach her with one.

And it wasn’t like she could refuse, it was her duty to protect non-curse users by exorcizing curses. However… she had grown quite fond of taking care of Megumi and Tsumiki. And if she wasn’t mistaken, they were starting to warm up to her, as well. Tsumiki more so than her brother, but she was bound to crack Megumi soon enough.

When she finally got up and around, she was slow to shower and get herself dressed for the day. She planned to go into Tokyo for the day, since Satoru was back tomorrow and she likely wouldn’t get another chance to for a bit. She’d promised Megumi and Tsumiki that as long as they had all of their schoolwork done today, that she would treat them to something special.

She hadn’t decided on what that would be yet, maybe ice cream, or a movie, or both. Whatever they preferred, she would happily fulfill their wishes.

Her fondness for them might have been turning into quite the soft spot.

After deciding on her outfit for the day, a simple button down shirt and pair of jeans, she excitedly grabbed her purse and her phone, and hurried out of her room.

Just as she whipped open her door, she ran straight into someone.

With a squeak of surprise she jumped back, only to have two hands steady her by her shoulders before she could recoil too much.

Gojo Satoru grinned down at her, wide and toothy, always happy to have her so shocked to see him.

“Satoru!” She yelped, half surprised to see him home early, half scolding him for startling her. “You’re home?”

“Miss me?” He asked.

His voice was soft and smooth, like fine silk. It worked it’s way into her head and made her a little dizzy, even though he wasn’t a Cursed Speech user.

“Is that what you were hoping?” She teases, cocking her head to the side.

He chuckles, and releases her shoulders.

“Got sent home on good behavior,” He tells her. “Now I have an extra day to spend with my favorite little hex”

Her breath hitched in her throat at the nickname, not having heard it before. Normally she would roll her eyes when he called her nicknames or affectionate pet names, but this time she didn’t react, unless you counted the rosy hue in her cheeks.

(He did)

“Ah, I can’t possibly train today,” (y/n) told him. “I’ve been pushing it all week, and with all the tutoring I’ve been doing I just want a break from-”

“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugged, pursing his lips. “Where were you off to?” He asks, nodding to the purse and phone she held in her hands. “I’ll join you, then”

(y/n) looked down at the offending items, cursing them for giving her away.

Fuck.

“Oh, just, to go kill time in Tokyo” She said, shaking her head nonchalantly before looking up at him.

“Nothing in particular?” Satoru asked.

She chewed on her bottom lip, wishing that a decent excuse would present itself.

You’ve been troubling Satoru, (y/n) thinks back to the night Suguru had stopped her in the hall. He’s been looking forward to some time with you away from here, you know.

She releases her bottom lip, shaking her head in answer.

Sorry, Tsumiki and Megumi.

“No, nothing in particular” She answers.

Satoru beams.

“Wonderful! Now we finally have time to catch up,” He says, stepping away from her door so she could follow at his side. “Come on, let’s start with breakfast”

Begrudgingly, she follows beside him out of the school. Her heart sinks in her chest, knowing she was going to be letting the Fushiguro children down by not showing up today. Maybe if she was lucky she could find a way to wiggle out and still sneak by their place tonight. But from the animated way Gojo was telling her about his mission, and the way he’d smiled when she’d agreed to spend the day with him, it wouldn’t feel right to just ditch him either.

If only she had the cursed technique to multiply herself, to be two places at once. Then she wouldn’t have to let anyone down with all of her lies and excuses.

As they wander off campus and make their way to town together, (y/n) feels guilty for even thinking of ditching Satoru. He pressed her to hear about everything she’d been up to while he’d been away. Even though besides her double life, she didn’t lead much of an interesting week.

“Come on, something interesting had to have happened,” Satoru whined. “I just told you, like, twenty minutes worth of stuff”

“You were exorcizing Special Grade curses,” (y/n) replies. “That’s interesting. Tutoring first years isn’t interesting. It’s boring”

“You like tutoring?” He asks.

(y/n) shrugs. “It’s alright. They’re nice, and I nee- I like the extra money” She catches herself, but it was too late.

“You need money?” He asks, already reaching for his pocket.

“No!” (y/n) says quickly, her hand snatching his wrist before he could grab his wallet.

For the second time now, she’s surprised she’s able to actually touch him. He raises a brow at the defensive maneuver. She quickly lets go of him, and goes back to walking along the path.

“So you need money but you don’t want my money?” He asks cheekily, following after her with his hands folded behind his back.

(y/n) stares straight ahead, even as he bends forward enough to be at her line of sight.

“I don’t need money,” She tells him. “I like having extra money. There’s a difference”

“Mhm,” He hums thoughtfully, not believing her bullshit. “But if you needed money you know you could always-”

“I know, Satoru,” (y/n) says, peeking at him from the corner of her eye, only to find him still staring at her. “You’re the wealthiest person I know. Of course I’d ask you first”

He grins, and returns to his full height.

“So I saw Haibara Yu last week,” He mentions, not very casually.

(y/n) fights the impulse to whip her neck around to stare at him, instead biting her tongue and waiting for whatever he was going to follow that with.

“You know him well?”

She raises a brow at him, a little confused by the sudden change in subject.

“I suppose?” She replies, unsurely. “He's a kind man. Very friendly” She added.

Satoru hums, eyes scanning the restaurants that line the streets, trying to find the right place for breakfast.

“Right. Well. Turns out he’s got a bit of a crush on you” He tells her.

(y/n’s) face grows hot, and she shakes her head in disbelief.

“And where did you hear that?” She asks. She’s giggling nervously.

His mood sours a bit at her giggling. Did the idea of the second-year having romantic feelings for her excite her?

He keeps his expression neutral.

“Yu,” He replies, voice dry of emotion. “Well, Nanami. But Yu was there and didn’t exactly debate it, so, you know,” He stops walking, and (y/n) turns after taking a few steps ahead. “Figured you’d want to know”

Her expression is hard to read, with her brows slightly pinched together, and the smallest of smirks on her lips as she was trying to figure him out.

“I see,” She says, thoughtfully. Her arms cross over her chest. “So that’s why you told me? To ruin his fun?”

Satoru frowns. That wasn’t exactly the response he was aiming for.

“Well, thought I’d give you a heads up, that way you can let him down easy” He replies.

“Let him down easy?” She laughed to herself, and took a step towards him. “Bold of you to assume I’ll be letting him down at all”

He grinds his teeth, and she can tell from the way his jaw moves back and forth. He’s annoyed.

Finally, she begins to understand why he loves to get under her skin. It was fun to get a rise out of someone who always kept themselves so well reserved.

He reaches out suddenly, his hand sliding around the dip in her back. (y/n’s) eyes widen at the action, but she doesn’t say or do anything to protest.

“Here,” Satoru says, in a low voice, before pointing to the restaurant they were stopped in front of. “This is where we’re having breakfast”

She turns to where he’d pointed, nodding as she takes in the small diner that didn’t seem as busy as the other restaurants on a Saturday morning.

He keeps his hand on the small of her back as they head towards the doors.

“Actually,” A thought dawns on her then, and she steps back until his hand falls away from her. “I just need to make a quick call, do you mind getting us a table?”

He nods, but he looks confused.

“Thanks, I’ll be right back” She says, already pulling her phone out as she steps back outside to be out of earshot.

She’s quick to click on Tsumiki and Megumi’s shared contact in her phone, and hopes that they pick up.

On the second ring, Tsumiki’s voice rings through the receiver.

“(y/n)?”

“Tsumiki, good morning,” (y/n) answers. “How are you and Megumi doing this morning?”

“We’re good,” She replies. “We got all of our work done! I even answered all the questions on my math homework”

Math was the subject Tsumiki struggled with most. She often skipped questions on her homework sheets because she couldn’t figure them out.

It was like someone had a grip on (y/n’s) heart, and began squeezing mercilessly.

“That’s great, I’m so proud of you both,” (y/n) said, but the disappointment in her tone was clear. “But, I’m really sorry, I don’t think I can come by today”

It was silent for a few beats, before, “Oh…”

“Something came up that I can’t take time away from,” She told the young girl honestly. “I promise, if it wasn’t important, I would be there right now”

“It’s okay, (y/n), I know you’re really busy, with the monsters and stuff” Tsumiki said as comfortingly as she could.

(y/n) shut her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. These kids were too kind for their own good.

“I’ll try to come by tomorrow, okay?” She tells her. “You guys be safe today… go treat ourselves to some sweets, or something, I’ll bring by some extra money when I’m around”

“You don’t have to, (y/n), there’s still brownies leftover from the last time you were here” Tsumiki says.

“You’re right, there’s plenty of sweets, huh?” (y/n) replies. “I’m spoiling you too much,”

Tsumiki giggles on the other end. “Well, tell Megumi I’m sorry, okay?”

“Okay, I will”

“I’ll call you later tonight, I want to hear all about your day, okay?”

“Okay”

“Be safe. I’ll see you later”

“Bye (y/n)”

“Goodbye, Tsumiki” (y/n) says, before pulling her phone away, seeing the girl must have already placed the phone back on it’s hook.

She frowns, tucking her phone back into her pocket and quickly wiping her eyes. She couldn’t go into the restaurant and have breakfast with Satoru with such a heavy sadness sitting on her shoulders. She’d have to pull it together.

With a deep breath, she turned around and walked back inside, quickly finding Satoru alone at a window seat, wistfully looking outside.

“Sorry about that”

He looked up to her as she sat across from him, picking up the menu on the table and skimming over it.

“Had to call Haibara to tell on me?” He asks.

Glancing up, she sees him with his elbows on the table, propping his head up in his hands as he gives her a teasing grin.

“I just might have” She replies, smirking back down at the menu. ___

Despite the clawing feeling of guilt in her chest, she enjoys her day with Satoru. After treating her to breakfast, they wander around the shops a bit. He’s relentlessly trying to spoil her, but she continuously turns him down. Nonetheless, She continues to present her with jewelry, snacks, accessories, books- anything he finds that he thinks she would enjoy or would look pretty on her, he asks her if she wants it.

“Satoru,” (y/n) huffs as he places a pretty porcelain hairpiece in her hair, sliding the combed edge in carefully, so as not to scrape her scalp too rough. “Could you give it up already?”

“Of course not,” He says with that toothy grin of his. He’d finally gotten the piece to stay put against the neat bun she’d put her hair into that morning, and he steps back, proud of his own work. “Okay, just take one look at this and tell me you don’t want it. It’s perfect”

(y/n) rolls her eyes, but he’s already taken a small hand mirror from the clerk, and was holding it before her so she could see her reflection. She gives him a look, but when she finally looks in the mirror, even he can see the way her demeanor changes.

Her playful expression fell, a bit taken aback by how beautiful the glass piece looked, how the colors complimented her eyes, and stood out just enough in her hair without being too flamboyant.

Just as quickly as she was admiring herself, her fingers reached for the porcelain comb, plucking it from her head and placing it back on the display.

“What a ridiculous waste of money,” She chuckles. “I couldn’t possibly own something like that”

“What?” Satoru asked in disbelief. “It was beautiful! Come on, I know you liked it”

(y/n) glances back at him, just for a moment, before turning back and heading along to the next display.

“I have no occasions I could wear that for,” She says honestly. “So I couldn’t justify buying it-”

“I would buy it for you!” Satoru replied, slinking around to stand in front of her, stopping her from distracting herself with whatever the next thing was. “And we could make our own occasion for you to wear it to” He adds with a charming smile.

(y/n) scoffs.

“Satoru, a piece like that is meant for a ball, or an elegant dinner, or something,” She deadpans. “I don’t think I could squeeze that in between exorcizing curses, or class” She laughs at the thought of wearing a piece of jewelry so luxurious during one of Yaga’s lessons.

“We could go to dinner,” Satoru shrugs. “I’d take you to dinner”

“Sure,” She chuckles, shaking her head as she walks around him. “With what time?”

“I have time right now,” Satoru shrugs, following beside her despite her trying to put some distance between them. She hoped space would relax her racing heart. “We could go tonight”

“We’ve been out all day, and now you want to take me to dinner?” (y/n) muses, raising a brow at him. “What’re you getting at?”

“Do I have to be getting at anything?” He replies smoothly. “Can’t I just take you to dinner because I want to?”

“Dinner implies that it’s a date” (y/n) says.

“So was breakfast a date too?” He asks cheekily.

“So dinner is a date?” Her response is even quicker.

Satoru just shrugs his shoulders, gazing down at her with that ever so charming grin. She stares back at him inquisitively.

“You’re being silly,” She tells him. “What is this anyways?” She asks. He feigns ignorance, as if he doesn’t know what she’s referring to. “All the shopping, you trying to buy me things, and take me places,” She clarifies. “What’s that about?”

“I can’t spend time with you?”

“You weren’t like this before,” (y/n) comments truthfully. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to keep me occupied”

Satoru throws his head back in a laugh, which takes her by surprise. She was sure that he’d bristle up like a cactus and call her ungrateful for the immense amount of kindness and spoiling he was showing her today.

“That pretty head of yours thinks too much,” He tells her, finally resuming their casual stroll through the antique shop. “You think the world is out to get you, that everyone who wants to be around you just wants something from you”

“That’s not entirely untrue” (y/n) quips.

People wouldn’t stick around if they didn’t need something, she thinks. That wasn’t always a bad thing, but it was true.

“Maybe sometimes,” Satoru agrees, and when he looks down at her, she gets a peek at his eyes from over his sunglasses. It was like seeing the ocean for the first time. “But I promise you sweetheart, I’m just trying to spend some quality time with my friends while I can”

He stares at her a moment longer, before he’s off to show her something else again, this time a vintage bookshelf. While he’s admiring the hand-carved wood that’s designed in pretty spirals, (y/n) feels her heart weakening just a little bit for him.

He’d been on so many assignments in the last six months, she realized. Ever since the incident with the Star Plasma Vessel, the higher ups had been singling him out to take care of anything they didn’t feel like doing. He was stretching himself too thin, she worried. He was barely home for a few days to a week before being shipped off somewhere else in the world. Despite the bragging he’d done around her and their friends, she could see now that it wasn’t what it was cracked up to be.

Being the strongest wasn’t just a title. It was a weight that he had to carry.

Satoru must’ve realized that (y/n) was lost in thought, not paying an ounce of attention to the bookshelf he was trying to convince her she needed. He glances over to her, catching the look of concern on her features before she quickly returns to a blank expression. He frowns for a second, wondering what was on her mind, but he doesn’t ask.

Instead he suggests they head somewhere else, to which she agrees, and happily follows him wherever he wishes to take her next. She realizes that this was his way of reaching out. His own odd way of saying he needed more, because he couldn’t possibly admit such a vulnerable thing. She should have known as soon as he started cornering her for more alone time, and again, Suguru’s words rang in the back of her mind.

He was looking forward to some time with you away from here, you know.

Now she understood what he’d meant. Satoru was losing more and more time with the friends he’d once spent every single day with. And soon, he’d probably be so busy with assignments from the higher ups that he’d barely be around at all.

The thought brings a frown to her face. The idea of him being gone more than he was around filled her with an inexplicable… sadness.

(y/n) glances over at him now, admiring the way the sun seemed to make his hair even brighter. A soft smile adorns her lips. Satoru catches this when he peeks down at her from behind his sunglasses, curious as to what she was staring for. He pretends not to notice.

There’s still guilt eating inside of her for having let down Megumi and Tsumiki. But for a passing moment, she almost forgets, as she’s filled with a warmth she couldn’t explain.

He’s been a little less annoying lately, she thinks. It’s been nice.

___

taglist: @whats-humanity-lol @malinq-ashida @mor-pheus @bekahtaylorgriggs @pookiea @megumimind @thealchemical @pearlstiare @niallerhere @96jnie @purpleguk @peqch-pie @yukinemaroop @makis-girl @sadtoru

xoxo - jordie

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fanfiction #satoru gojo #satoru gojo imagine #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk imagine #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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bidisasterevankinard · 7 months ago

Text

Tease tidbit Tuesday

More from I want to dance with you tonight (and for the rest of my life) (it's 10k but we are finally near the wedding!!!)

Going out of the bathroom, Buck hears the start of the ‘Playing with the boys’ and runs to the kitchen to not miss any part of Tommy singing and moving his hips dancing around the kitchen. No song can make Tommy dance and sing so actively as this one.

Quietly, making sure not to make any sounds, Buck enters the kitchen and leans on the doorway, admiring his boyfriend in simple black shorts and gray tank hoodie, who sways his hips in the rhythm of the song, with spatula working as a microphone. The sun from the big windows around the kitchen creates perfect lighting around him, making Tommy look brighter, almost shiny like the sun himself, and his hair looks almost like caramel.

Buck enjoys the show, smiling so hard his cheeks can start aching, but he doesn’t care. Tommy looks so good, happy and free, trying hard not to scream the song in all his voice, as he thinks Buck is still sleeping, and Buck can't be happier too. He was looking for this simple happiness of waking up to someone singing and cooking in the kitchen, waiting for him to wake up, for so long, he started to believe he would never have it. But he has it now. With Tommy not caring if Buck would see him like that or not, he just simply enjoys to sing and dance and take care of them both with tasty breakfast, because somehow even though Buck is definitely better cook overal, omelet with bacon is something Tommy beats him in.

When the song nears the end, Buck decides to finally show he’s not asleep anymore. He hugs his boyfriend from behind leaving the kiss firstly on his naked from the tank top shoulder and then stands on tiptoes to kiss Tommy's cheek and forehead, smiling when the man turns his head to peck his lips.

“Morning sunshine,” Tommy kisses his nose and gets his attention to the food.

“Morning handsome,” Buck gets comfortable behind Tommy’s back, putting his head on Tommy’s shoulder. “I enjoyed the show.”

Tagged by @theotherbuckley @rainbow-nerdss 💜

Tagging @wikiangela @watchyourbuck @ebdaydreamer @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbi-ckley @rogerzsteven @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @tizniz @pirrusstuff @aspecbuddie @spotsandsocks @spaceprincessem @saybiwithme @fortheloveofbuddie @devirnis @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @daffi-990 @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @cal-daisies-and-briars @bibuckbuckley @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @bewilderedbuckley @bi-buckrights @neverevan @monsterrae1 @icecreampotluck and anyone who wants to

#Tommy is movie geek like Chim we know from begins episodes and this song was during basketball scene which was amde to be top gun reference #so ofc I chose it #fic: I want to dance with you tonight (and for the rest of my life)#evan buckley #911 #evan buck buckley #911 abc #bucktommy #tommy kinard #tevan #kinkley #kinley #my wips #Spotify #made*

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uzumaki-rebellion · 9 days ago

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youtube

"Up early that morning, Spy Boy ready

I got my machete, Ooh na nae

What they say? We on our way

Downtown Indian, Uptown Indian

West Bank Indian, Back o'town Indian

Lord I'm pretty, my Big Chief Pretty

My whole gang pretty, we the best in the city"

Shotgun Slim – "Injunz Comin'"

The soft patter of rain woke Celeste up.

She hadn't been asleep for long. The darkness outside hadn't lightened up enough to herald the coming of dawn and she guessed it was only a little after two a.m., maybe close to three. Terry slept beside her quietly, his right arm thrown over her waist. She untangled herself and tiptoed into the kitchen to drink water. Dehydration caught up to her after the third vigorous sexual union of the day with Terry. The aches and pains of lovemaking wore out her back, neck, and inner thighs with a dull soreness. She did much better this time around, better than their first time together the night before.

The man had kinks. Spanking. Biting. Rope binding using the red satin Shibari rope she'd bought for her fetish content. She rubbed her wrists from the indentation marks the rope made. They spent all day Monday making love, smoking weed, talking, munching cookies, and napping in between. She had eaten no real food for over twenty hours, and now she was hungry and thirsty.

She feasted on the leftover food Terry didn't eat from Durand's and then stretched her legs to get them used to walking again since they lived in her bed for nearly two days. Nicotine cravings called to her, and she straggled into the living room to find a pack of smokes. She lit up and inhaled, blowing a smoke ring out toward her French doors.

The fuck?

She froze, staring at her curtains.

The shadow of someone standing in her backyard shocked her, even more so when it looked like the profile of Terry…naked. She gasped, and the figure turned to face her…started floating toward the double doors. The lingering effects of the weed in her system had her doubting reality.

"Why are you up?"

"Jesus!"

Celeste jumped out of her skin when she heard Terry's voice. He slid his hand around her waist.

"Don't scare me like that!"

"I wasn't tryna scare you, just wondered where you went. I woke up, and you were gone," he said.

"Do you see…"

The shadowy figure disappeared.

"What?" Terry asked.

"There was someone standing out there."

Terry moved her behind him and strode toward the double doors naked. He pulled one curtain aside.

"I don't see anyone, Celeste."

He unlocked one door and stepped out. Her motion sensor light came on bright, illuminating the yard. She walked behind him and avoided stepping outside. A light drizzle of rain fell on him.

"We're naked…get back in here!" she said, pulling on his arm.

"Give me a minute," he said.

Terry inspected the area thoroughly and walked back inside, locking the door behind him. His damp body trickled in water on the hardwood floor.

"It was probably a cat or a possum," he said.

"Shaped like a man?"

"There's nothing and no one out there."

She peeked out of the glass. Perhaps it had been an elongated shadow from a tree. The floodlights would've come on if someone was there and they didn't for the first time. Not until Terry went out and activated the motion sensors.

She let it go and snuffed out the cigarette.

"Come back to bed," he said.

A devilish twinkle in his eye signaled he was feeling horny again.

"No more sex. We need to rest and save our energy for tomorrow."

Terry pouted, pushing out his lips that she loved to ride on and kiss. She hugged him around the neck, enjoying his warm, wet body touching her.

"You can pout all you want mister, but we're done for the night."

He spanked her right butt cheek and lifted her off of her feet, carrying her back to the bedroom. She rested her head on his chest once they settled in for the night.

How long would this last?

After Tuesday, he'd probably head back to see Miss Irma before going back to where he came from, which was about a five-hour drive away. A long distance relationship wasn't something she envisioned for herself.

She watched him sleep.

He reminded her of a handsome prince in a deep slumber waiting to be kissed and awakened from a spell like some fairy tale. She loved the wideness of his nose and how it matched the proportion of his soft lips. She loved how his ears stuck out, giving him a jovial, big kid look when he smiled.

His body took up most of her double bed and she thought about ordering a king-sized bed to accommodate him better. Would a king-size mattress even fit in her bedroom? That thought jolted her. Was she seriously contemplating new furniture for a man she just met?

"My God tuh-day," she mumbled.

The absurdity ruffled her feathers. In the sobering reality, after all the mind-blowing sex, Celeste wanted to put a lid on any thoughts of a future. Every time she felt a way about a man and started making plans and setting boundaries, nothing came to fruition, and she always ended up with heartbreak or bitterness. She resolved to keep it cool with Terry. This was fuck buddy fun. Plain and simple.

But look at that face!

The thick eyebrows and heavy lashes softened the sculptured forehead and chin. His goatee gave him a dashing look of a rogue, and it matched his energy in bed. She ain't never had a man talk her through so many orgasms. When she rode him like the pony express, bouncing so hard that her cheeks clapped against his thighs with the power of cymbals crashing, she was already planning long luxurious vacations with him to exotic resorts on the other side of the world. All because his voice sounded like it came from the top of a mountain heralding the coming of the Lord.

His dick was a magic stick that had her talking in tongues in the key of brreb-bababy-ah-ashantay by the time they finished their last entanglement. Was it crack? Did this negro have crack in his penis? Cuz babygirl was definitely hooked. Even with a condom on, that dick still had her spellbound, satisfied, and doing full splits on it like she was Simone Biles.

Sleep finally overtook her disjointed thoughts, and she slumbered through eight restful hours. She woke up on a sunny Fat Tuesday morning grinning, smelling the odor of cooking that she wasn't doing coming from her kitchen. Wearing the afterglow of heavenly lovemaking, she threw on a robe and sauntered into where Terry stood at her stove sprinkling grated cheddar cheese inside an omelet. He'd already taken a shower before she got up. With only a dark blue towel draped around his waist, he looked like a tawny Greek Adonis.

"Morning. Did you sleep well, beautiful?"

Butterfly wings fluttered in her belly every time he called her beautiful. He always showered her with pet names and compliments. If he was bread crumbing her for more sex, she was falling for it. She was a sucker for love bombing and all the fortitude she built up before she fell asleep yesterday went out the window. She hugged him from behind.

"I slept like a lazy cat."

"Listen, I have to run back to my B&B to get fresh fits. What time do we have to roll to see your grandfather?"

"Big Chief will be outside before nine."

"I'll go get dressed and we can ride over in my truck."

"Okay."

"Sit, I'll fix you a plate and then I'll bounce."

Celeste propped herself in her kitchen chair and ogled Terry's backside wrapped in the towel. So taut. Round the way she liked it. The muscles in his back flexed and her gaze followed down his spine to where the towel hung on his tapered waist. The gods of body blessings built him to perfection. She rested her cheek on her hand and studied everything on that man. He folded the omelet over and slid it onto a plate of fried alligator sausages.

"There you go," he said, serving her the plate.

She puckered her lips, and he kissed her.

"Thank you, sir…wait, you're not joining me?"

He placed a mug of fresh coffee on the table next to her fork.

"I ate while you were still snoozing, so I could get outta here on time. Be back before you know it. Enjoy breakfast."

He left her in the kitchen and she didn't like watching his wide back move away from her. Digging into the omelet, she was delighted to find he cooked onions and diced tomatoes in it, too. The hot and spicy sausage woke her up completely, and she took a moment to sip the coffee and glance out of the kitchen window, grateful no rain would hamper the day.

She enjoyed a long shower and rubbed her body down with jasmine and honey blossom lotion. Slipping on comfortable underwear, she worked on her make-up and face-painting first, choosing an avant-garde style that mimicked Mardi Gras colors with a West African geometric flair, turning half her face into living art. The other half she glued a partial green carnival mask that had three slender purple feathers sticking out from it like a hand fan. She pulled her carnival outfit from the closet in her sewing room and checked for any last-minute re-stitching she needed to do. Celeste had painstakingly decorated the purple and yellow keyhole halter top with sewn-in cowrie shells she hand-painted a shiny, metallic gold. A pair of sequined gold shorts she bought online rounded off the ensemble and had her booty sitting up. She'd added Mardi Gras beads on the sides of the shorts to make her shimmies and shuffles on the streets extra dramatic. Reaching behind her neck, she untied her black satin hair wrap and released her locs. The last task was to pick footwear to run the streets in. She had a nice pair of neon yellow sprinting shoes she used for track in highschool, but there was also a cool pair of green Chucks. Choosing the sprinting shoes that were less bulky, she laced up and threw a crossbody sling bag across her shoulders, stuffing her cell phone, keys and cigarettes inside. Digging in her nightstand, she tossed a couple of joints in the bag, too. It was Fat Tuesday, after all. She could repent on Ash Wednesday at St. Augustine Church.

Street food would be in abundance, and every corner would have someone selling quarter waters. She waited in her living room for Terry and checked on text messages from friends wanting to gossip about the pretty man she unabashedly kept locked in her bed. All of her girlfriends were happy that she was safe. Nae Nae sent eggplant emojis, and Joyce sent water splashes and yellow smiley faces with tongues out looking like they were sweating.

A knock at the door sprung her into action. She grabbed her tambourine, swung the door open and twirled.

"How do I look?"

The man at the door wasn't Terry.

"You look like you're ready to show out. How ya doin', Duchess?"

Freddie grinned like a cat with the canary caught between his gums. His silky mahogany skin gleamed in the sunlight and so did his tangerine carnival suit with the Money Wasters Social & Pleasure Club sash slung across his chest. From the tangerine gators on his feet to the matching fedora on his head, Celeste's ex looked elegant and much better-looking since the last time she ran into him. Of course, she was cursing him out of his name at the time after receiving a break-up text in the middle of Sunday Mass.

"Why are you here? Who gave you my address?"

"Calm down now, gal. Your Mama said you were still doing poorly, and I just wanted to check on you. Us not being together doesn't mean I don't still care about you. I figure carnival morning is a good day to see ya."

"You seen me, now bye."

"Don't be like that, Celeste. Let the past be the past...today is Mardi Gras, a little buck jumping and celebrating is good for everybody's soul."

Celeste's stomach churned at the sight of him. She didn't need any turmoil today. Music blasted from various corners of her street, kicking off the bright festive mood she wanted to indulge in. Freddie leaned toward her.

"Listen, Duchess, men make mistakes. They do! Don't roll your eyes at me. They fuck up and grow from it. Six months ago, we weren't in a good place, and instead of acting like a grown man, I acted like a boy and hurt you. I wasn't ready to commit to anything or take on the responsibility of marriage."

"But you were willing to play house with me, enjoying all the benefits of a marriage without the strings? Is that how that works? See, that was partially my fault for letting it go on so long because I actually thought there was a chance you would step up and show me we were a team."

"C'mon now, you were pressuring me all the time."

"Asking where you saw us in the next five years was pressure?"

"Duchess—"

"No. We aren't doing this. If this is your way of spinning the block, you can keep on driving partna. I gave you so many chances to prove your worth, but you chose to move on without me in the bed of another woman. Go fuck that bitch…better yet, fuck all the bitches you want, because I'm done with your lame excuses. You were mad that I asked you to put up or shut up, so now deal with the consequences of your actions."

She wagged a finger in his face.

"You had a good one, Freddie, and you blew it."

"Baby, I hurt you bad…I know. I want to make amends. That's why I came here today. However long it takes to wait out the hate you have for me right now, I will do it."

A deep rumble shook the streets as a late-model gray Chevy Silverado truck pulled up behind her car. The heavy bass made her windows rattle, and she grinned so hard that Freddie jerked his head around to see what caused all the showing of teeth.

Terry stepped out of the truck sporting a Mardi Gras-themed graphic T-shirt and custom oyster-gray joggers. She noticed his walking shoes were Kuru athletic slip-ons that looked comfortable as hell.

She exhaled so loud looking at Terry that Freddie sucked his teeth.

"You good, baby?" Terry asked, his gaze locked on Freddie as he spoke.

"Ready to go. Give me a second to lock up," she said, pulling out her keys.

Terry leaned against the passenger door of his truck and waited for her. Freddie followed her down the four steps of her stoop.

"Hey…how you doing, man?" Freddie said.

Freddie held out his hand and Terry shook it, his face neutral, but not mean-mugging. However, his eyes were icy daggers. Celeste took pleasure in the height difference of the two men. Freddie had to look up at Terry's face like she did.

"Nice suit," Terry said, looking over Freddie's sartorial finery.

"Well ya know, gotta show out tuhday," Freddie said.

"I hear you. Best day of the year," Terry said.

"Better than Christmas!"

Freddie laughed, and it irked her nerves.

Terry stared at Freddie and the cool silence he gave unnerved her ex. Celeste found it delicious and didn't jump in to make introductions or anything, just let Freddie stand there with an awkward grin stewing on his face.

"Well, guess I betta head out. Y'all have fun now," Freddie said.

"Lose my address," Celeste called to him.

Freddie walked around his white Audi and grumbled something under his breath. He drove off and Celeste groaned her annoyance.

"I swear, when I see my mama, she's going to get a piece of my mind."

"She told him to come here?"

"She gave him my address. I've been living here six months in peace, and now he knows where I live."

"Is that a problem?"

Terry's voice hinted at concern. She threaded her fingers with his.

"He's not a stalker. I think he planned to use this day for a chance at reconciliation, and it backfired with you here."

"Tail between the legs, huh?"

"Yep."

She glanced at his truck.

"Are you open to walking over to my grandparent's house? It's about a thirty-minute stroll. It'll warm up our legs for partying," she said.

"Lead the way."

Celeste tapped her tambourine and pranced in front of him like the Pied Piper, shaking her ass to the music bubbling up from the streets. Tons of people were already walking about, celebrating and greeting strangers and friends with smiles and excited shouts. Being with Terry enabled Celeste to see the carnival life through his eyes. It awakened a new appreciation for her culture and her people. There was always a second line every week because of funerals, social club events, or convention parties and she tended to overlook how unique it was as a local. But with Terry...it became brand new and magical.

They arrived in front of her grandparents' old white double shotgun house amongst a growing audience of paraders. The right side was where her grandparents stayed, and the left side belonged to her aunt and uncle. The narrow street teemed with family and spectators waiting for the Big Chief to come outside. Celeste introduced Terry to her cousins, and gave a proper introduction to all of her girlfriends who patiently waited to see what type of suit Big Chief had sewn all year.

Joyce and Avis welcomed Terry into their fold, unlike Nae Nae and Mercy, who remained reserved a lot longer knowing Celeste stayed in a tender place emotionally after Freddie left her. Hoots and shrieks from the left side of the street roused the throng of bodies packed around them. The ninth ward Headhunter Tribe resplendent in gold and navy blue feathers, stomped and called out for Big Chief to show himself. Other spirited shouts on the right brought forth the Uptown Indians, those from the West Bank and Back o' Town. Celeste counted five tribes in their colorful regalia waiting for her grandfather to show himself on a fine Mardi Gras morning. Terry's eyes looked thrilled to be in the middle of all the pageantry and people. She linked her arm in his, happy to have him by her side.

The front door opened on the right side.

"Here come my Big Chief!" Celeste shouted.

She ululated, and other Treme women joined her in the galvanizing sound. It ricocheted among the squawks and whoops of Black men dressed in enormous headpieces and extravagant works of folk art. With her girlfriends, who waved handkerchiefs, Celeste led the singing of a stirring rendition of "Indian Red" as her Big Chief slowly walked outside in the majestic colors of magenta and royal purple. Celeste let out a long breath of anxious air. Big Chief didn't wear all white. He was going to stay in the game for one more year.

She couldn't hold back the tears and thanked God she spent money on water-proof face paint and kept a handkerchief ready. She dabbed at her eyes, even through the partial mask on her face. Her Uncle Claude, the Second Chief, and Man-Man their Flag Boy helped Big Chief place his crown on his head. A sea of smartphones went up, everyone wanting a picture of one of the oldest Indians alive still masking. Celeste had her phone out too, snapping away from every angle. The low raspy pitch of a tuba sounded off, and soon a full on brass band Treme anthem kicked off the march around the neighborhood.

Celeste squeezed through bodies with her hand clasped around Terry's wrist. She kissed Big Chief's cheek and took a selfie with him. Big Chief squinted at Terry with curious brown eyes.

"Who your people is, young man?" Big Chief asked in his scratchy tone.

"They not from around here, sir. I'm from up north, not too far from Shelby Springs," Terry said.

"A big country boy, huh?"

"Yes, sir."

Big Chief tilted his head, but Terry stepped back to make room for Grand-mère and other tribal members wanting more pictures before her grandfather took off down the street. Bursting with pride, Celeste danced and rattled the jingles on her tambourine.

The streets crackled with high-spirited life and they merged onto other streets, taking careful consideration of Big Chief's energy level throughout the day. They arrived at the I-10 underpass and joined up with a mass of people marching and dancing.

"I like this type of carrying on better than the big parade on canal street," Terry said.

He maintained a bounce in his step, impressing Celeste with his skillful dancing despite his size. Terry shook his hips and tried to move his feet like her. He kept a smile on her face all day and eventually Nae Nae and Mercy warmed up to him after seeing how happy she acted with him.

She pointed out the parasols, baskets, and ostentatious fans she made, snapping photos with her phone and stopping to buy water along the back street route. So many white people mingled among them. Even they knew where the genuine party was at.

"She cutting up now!" a reveler called out.

Mercy started staggering her steps and shuffling to the music as second-line horns blared and coaxed everyone to shake their moneymaker. Celeste jumped right next to her, strutting in the middle of the street. Mercy held her parasol high above her head as she hyped Celeste up.

"Get it Duchess! Work it!"

Avis and Joyce kept yelling, "Aye! Aye! Aye!" every time she dropped low to the ground. Her cousin Micah recorded her on his phone, and hot stepped with the rest.

The onlookers snapped photos and taped Celeste cutting loose like it was the last day of her life on earth. It helped that her shorts let her backside bounce in time to the music and she jumped around shaking her tambourine, moving her feet like they were on fire. Mercy worked the street with her, showing off uptown footwork, but Celeste showed the crowd how the downtown really got down. She bounced and kept her knees bucking up high, spinning and dipping, matching Mercy's high energy and showmanship, keeping her steps syncopated with the tuba, drum, and other horns. Onlookers moved closer to videotape them. Avis took Celeste's tambourine to help keep a hot percussive beat going with her steps.

From the corner of her eye, she caught the Moneywasters Social and Pleasure Club prancing in step, rounding the corner. Freddie was front and center, and he noticed her right away and she really started turning up.

Celeste put her hands on the ground and alternated lifting each foot up with the beat of a cowbell and the whistles being blown. She jumped back up knowing Freddie locked in on her and started wiggling her backside and moving backward by the power of her ass, gyrating until she broke it down further by doing her well-known sexy model catwalk. She strutted and bounced at the same time, moving to the left of the street, and then back to the right. She hopped and twisted her hips around until she surrendered to the moment, her body simply a conduit for whatever African spirit wanted to experience a little bons temps rouler. Her friends were right there with her, dancing and moving their feet fast.

"Yeah, you right!" Nae Nae yelled at her.

"You wild, Duchess!" Joyce shouted.

Celeste dipped around Freddie, and her ex shook a feathered fan at her, dancing his way closer. She dropped her hands on her knees, tooted her backside, and let her hips wind, enticing plenty of people to catcall and whistle at her. The soft crush of Terry's crotch rubbed up against her ass, pleasing the cheering crowd. He blatantly cock blocked Freddie from grinding on her. Celeste marveled at how sensually Terry moved on her. That big dick print of his felt nice between her cheeks. He laced his fingers with hers, and they kept their arms up in the air together, dancing to the raucous beat in total sync, moving along with the sea of exuberant faces flowing toward another street intersection.

At a crossroads, two other tribes faced off on a street corner, singing chants and challenges about who sewed the prettiest suits. Big Chief's singing voice carried over the hundreds of heads near Celeste. It soared across the hundreds more behind them. The Wild Treme's Spyboy stopped and hollered a boastful rhyme about the prettiest chief around. She kept a smug look on her face as no other tribal suit could rival the skills of her grandfather. Her cousin Angie preened in a gorgeous tribal suit, representing the queen of their tribe with grace standing next to Big Chief.

By late afternoon, Avis passed around a flask filled with spiced dark rum and they shared oyster po'boy sandwiches from a middle-aged Korean man who set up shop on the corner of Treme and Governor Nicholls street. She finally witnessed Terry eating something when he took a few bites from her sandwich. All around them, people walked, danced, and shuffled along, following whatever tribes they could catch sight of.

"That's my church," she said to him.

Across the street was St. Augustine church. Since Hurricane Ida, the main sanctuary had closed for roof repairs. Celeste and other parishioners held Mass in the Parish Hall for the time being. She pulled Terry over to see a special part of her church, pointing out a giant rusting iron cross made of giant chain locks sitting on the ground and tilted on its side, marking the hallowed ground of the unknown slave. Several medieval-looking metal shackles hung from the body of the cross.

Terry stood a respectful distance from it. His once joyous emerald eyes dulled in solemn reverence.

"Avis, may I see your flask for a minute?" he asked.

They all thought he wanted a sip, but he stooped down to one knee, unscrewed the cap and poured out some rum. Celeste crossed her arms in front of her midsection. Her friends watched him from the side.

"Awhile back, they started finding so many unmarked slave graves that our church wanted to remind everyone about it. I was a little girl when Father LeDoux, our old priest, and the parishioners placed it here. It honors all the enslaved lost to us."

"It's a holy place," Terry said.

His voice was so soft and trembled with emotion. Celeste ran a gentle hand across his scalp and plucked a cowrie shell from her costume and placed it on top of the spot where Terry soaked the ground with rum.

"Father LeDoux passed on five years ago. But he left us this memorial to cherish."

"Sister Celeste, I thought that was you."

Father Mbenga, the new priest recently assigned to St. Augustine, pushed his glasses up on his nose and gave her a warm smile.

"Father Mbenga," Celeste said.

Her friends slipped away across the street, avoiding any church talk while they were tipsy, leaving her alone with Terry.

"I will see you tomorrow in the Parish Hall no doubt?"

"I'll be here."

Terry rose to his feet and wiped his hands. He held Avis's flask behind his back.

"Father, this is my friend Terry. He's visiting from out of town."

Father Mbenga held out his hand. Terry was hesitant at first, but he offered his free hand.

"Young man, you are very welcome to attend Mass. We have a wonderful Ash Wednesday service and newcomers always have a church home here."

Terry nodded and gave a weak smile, humoring the man.

"Don't let me hold up all your fun. I wanted to say hello since I heard your voice."

Celeste tugged on Terry's arm and pulled him away.

"You don't have to go with me tomorrow."

"He invited me. I'll go with you."

She grinned, happy that he wanted to stay longer with her.

"Don't you have to see Miss Irma tomorrow, too?"

"I'll see her. Thinking about staying a little longer."

"Yeah?"

Celeste's cheeks nearly touched the sky with happiness.

"You not tired of me yet?" he asked.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her nose against his.

"Not yet," she whispered.

He lowered his lips and kissed her out in the open. After the sweet moment, she pointed out parts of the church building, especially the refurbished bell on top of the belfry, and proudly bragged that it was the first Black Catholic Church in the country.

"You love this church, don't you?" he said.

"I sure do. We're hoping the main sanctuary will open back up in the fall. I can't wait. So many memories here. Weddings. Christenings. My confirmation. It's been standing here since 1841. Hurricanes still can't knock it down. In a couple of decades, it'll be 200 years old. Imagine being around for that long, huh?"

Terry glanced at her, and a weird expression washed over his face. It passed quickly, and he held her hand tight.

They rejoined her friends to mingle and drink until the sun lowered. The Quarter jumped and so did they, bar hopping all night. Celeste knew it was time to pack it in when Terry kept rubbing on her booty and nibbling her ear, whispering nasty things that warmed her face up. He exuded so much charisma that people stepped out of their way wherever they went just to watch him pass by. Even she fawned over him, feeling like she had won the lottery with such an attentive man.

Doubt crept into her mind as they interacted with people and the liquor in her system marinated on her brain. Other women flirted with him when they thought she wasn't looking, and an uncomfortable and familiar sensation pestered her. Insecurity. He was a complete stranger blowing through the city. There might be an entire complicated life hidden away somewhere, with women and kids involved. Once, while they were in bed listening to music and sharing random thoughts about life, she asked Terry if he had any social media. He said he didn't like being online. She let it go. Watching him move confidently through the party atmosphere and drunken revelry, she didn't want to trust anything shining like gold that fell into her lap easily. There might be a lump of coal in the middle of it. Freddie had been charming and attentive, too. He'd said all the right things. Gave her good sex. Women had flirted with Freddie when they were out, but this thing she witnessed with Terry was different. He caught the attention of everyone. Men and women. Queer, straight, and everything else there was to be in the world. Every color, creed, and nationality folded when he was near.

Celeste's insecurities got the better of her and she reasoned that their union couldn't last. Men that fine knew it and used it to their advantage. The sooner she conceded to that fact, the easier it would be when he left New Orleans. Whatever fantasy she made up in her head lying in bed with him had to go. Her first step would be to stop sleeping with Terry. She would let him return to his B&B and give her pussy a rest.

Eventually, the time came to say goodnight to her friends. Terry insisted on walking Joyce back to her car to make sure they all got there safely. She had parked in a gated and fenced hotel lot for a fee. They exchanged hugs and kisses with sloppy drunk goodbyes. Joyce had stopped drinking once they hit the Quarter, and she was good to drive back uptown. Celeste and Terry stumbled on a circuitous route back to his B&B . She was determined to drop the magic stick off at his spot and walk home alone to sober up. The further away they moved from the major action of the Quarter, the fewer people they ran into. Even the sound of music dwindled until they arrived at an eclectic little neighborhood B&B with two courtyards and lots of cool roof statues on top of the three little bedroom cottages, two bungalows, and a carriage house. A large Batman figure overlooked the street, along with funny-looking owls with googly eyes, and a couple of squat yellow minions from the animated movie "Despicable Me". Celeste pulled out her phone to snap some pictures of the roofs.

"We should've walked to your place first to get my truck," he said.

"We can still walk over there for you to get it and come back here. I'm just three blocks down, remember?" she said.

"Or you can spend the night here with me and enjoy these silly roof statues?"

She smirked. Nope. She wasn't going to fall for it. Her buzz still had her floating, but she wouldn't be a sucker for some dick.

"What statue do you have on your roof?"

He thought about it for a second.

"I have a courtyard room, and I think it's some anime character. I don't know. They all have a movie theme. Let me run in here and grab a jacket for you and I'll walk you home."

"I'm close by. I can live without a jacket."

"You're shivering…been shivering the last fifteen minutes we were walking. I'm getting you a jacket. C'mon."

He clasped her hand. She pulled away.

"I'll wait here. I have to go to church at eight-thirty and I'm not falling for any tricks to keep me in bed all day."

Terry slapped her butt and walked onto the property. Celeste took another photo of an inflatable green dragon with cartoon eyes and Mardi Gras beads strung around its neck. She ended up taking another picture of it since the first one came out blurry. The flash revealed a statue hidden behind the twisting tail of the dragon. An ornate, yet grotesque looking gargoyle appeared stuck on the slope of the roof. Its three-foot wide stone body showed ornate wings curled into a ball, shielding it from the glare of decorative white string lights hung around the eaves. It blended in perfectly with the roof's russet coloring. She might've missed it if the dragon picture hadn't been so bad. Slanted stone eyes looked down toward the street in a menacing way.

"Ugly little thing," Mercy said under her breath. "Don't even match the aesthetic."

Terry returned and draped a heavy jacket around her shoulders. Celeste bounced as she walked to the strained sounds of music coming from a house several blocks away.

"Today was so much fun," she said.

"I had a good time."

"I promised you would."

"You made it ten times better."

Celeste sang some fun chants for him and once she stood back on her stoop, she pulled the jacket off her shoulders. Handing it to him, she kept her back toward the front door.

"Call me and I'll pick you up in the morning," he said.

"Just come by at eight. I'll be ready."

He climbed the first step and kissed her forehead.

"Rest well," he said.

She watched him climb into his truck and drive away, feeling proud that she had willpower. Regardless, her limbs were exhausted. There was no way to enjoy him bending her like a pretzel again with sore joints.

"Oh, thank you Jesus," she said out loud to the stars and the moon in the sky.

Grateful for a joy-filled day, she entered her home and took a long, hot shower.

Toweling her hair in the living room, she reached for a joint inside the crossbody bag and turned on the TV. Tucking her locs under her satin hair scarf, she caught up on the news segments showing the celebrations all throughout the city and smoked. She flipped through channels and paused on a late night news broadcast because of two faces highlighted on the screen. The two white guys from the Quarter that tried to lure her away from her friends.

Carl and Jacob.

She turned the volume up and learned that they were missing since the night she met them. Despite authorities finding their rental car abandoned near Lake Pontchartrain with no signs of foul play, their family insisted that harm had come to them.

Celeste sat on her sectional recliner, reeling from the story. Had those men convinced her to party with them, she might've ended up missing too. It creeped her out that she may have been one of the last few people to see them before they vanished. Terry, as well.

She turned off the TV and finished smoking her joint, letting it relax the anxiety fighting to control her thinking about Carl and Jacob. In the dark, she rested on her recliner, too lazy to walk to her bedroom. Shifting onto her side, she glanced at her French doors and bolted upright.

That shadowy figure was back. She could see its curved shape behind the curtains. Grabbing a long rain stick she had lying against the wall, she unlocked the doors and ran out to knock whoever it was upside the head. Her motion sensor lights came on and she swung the rain stick wildly about, hoping to strike down the intruder.

A breeze rustled the leaves of her neighbors tree and the flood lights cut out since she wasn't moving anymore. Celeste noticed the shadow of the tree branches moving across her nightgown and doors. That's all it was. The damn tree.

Nothing was out there. Just like the previous night when Terry checked her yard.

She walked back into her cottage, locked the doors and kept the rain stick next to the bed. The weed allowed her to drift on a magic carpet ride of untroubled sleep.

"No more weed," she whispered to herself.

Chapter 8 HERE.

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