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navybrat817 · 2 months ago

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Feel the Pulse Beat: Intro

Pairing: Old Money!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Bucky didn't want to go to Tony's club, but he'll be glad he did by the end of the night.

Word Count: Almost 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, frenemy behavior, family issues, bit of world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Oh, look, lovelies! A new AU no one asked for. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Why am I even here?” Bucky asked, eying the neon sign for Extremis. The one and only Tony Stark owned the club. A mix of people in clothes that ranged from expensive suits to revealing dresses stood in line with the hopes of getting in. “Because I have a car I could be working on as we speak.”

He could fit in at clubs, but he’d take greasing up his hands over dressing up any day. With cars, he didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than himself. There was no need to impress people who didn’t care about him beyond his name or fortune.

Steve, his best friend, sighed. “Because we promised Tony we’d show up. He’s our friend.”

“You promised, not me. He’s more your friend than mine and he acts like I wronged him in another life or something,” Bucky said. Tony didn't outright hate him, but didn’t seem to care for him and loved to give him a hard time. “I doubt he’ll notice if I skip this.”

“He will notice and he’s not that bad,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I swear, between Tony and Sam, it’s like you go out of your way to not be friends with our friends.”

Bucky didn’t comment on Sam for the time being. “Not that bad? Tony has the biggest ego in the city. I’m surprised he didn’t call the place 'Anthony’s' or plaster his name all over the building,” he said, tilting his head. “Given the outside, it wouldn't surprise me if the inside was just as bad.”

Steve snorted, used to his humor after all these years. “You’re in a mood,” he said. Bucky didn’t deny it. “Let me guess: another argument with your dad?”

Bucky hesitated. “What else is new?” He wished he could clock the guy, but he was his old man.

George Barnes couldn’t wrap his mind around why his son preferred cars to the boardroom and networking. Or why he chose to “destroy” his body with tattoos. Or why he wasn't dating an elitist. It was like he couldn’t stand that Bucky wasn't just another version of him. Thank God for his mom who encouraged him to forge his own path and respected his choices.

And, yes, she occasionally allowed him access to the family funds if he wanted or needed them because she adored him.

“I'm sorry,” Steve said, clapping him on the shoulder.

They had grown up together, which meant they either witnessed or heard the ups and downs of their families. Steve wasn’t just his best friend, he was like a brother to him. He knew how his dad could get. And his dad was a good man most days, but he could also be a real pain in the ass.

“Don’t be. Not your fault,” he replied, looking at the sign again. “Never is.”

“It may not be my fault, but it doesn't mean I don’t care,” he said. He was lucky to have a friend like him. “Come on.”

Bucky felt eyes on them as they bypassed the line and approached the man at the door. Even if their names weren't on the list, the confidence he and his best friend carried would've been enough to pique the security’s curiosity. They also had enough money in their pockets to not necessarily flaunt their wealth, but to show that they had it. The same applied to their suits.

“Steve Rogers,” his best friend stated with just the right touch of pride. It was a fine line to walk between confidence and arrogance and he did it well. “And Bucky Barnes.”

“You’re on the list, but those aren’t the names the boss gave me and he won't let you in without them,” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Aww, that’s too bad.” Bucky shrugged. It was the kind of shit Tony liked to pull and he wasn't in the mood to play. “Let’s go, punk.”

Steve held out an arm to stop him. “Just wait, jerk,” he said, shaking his head as he looked at the bouncer. “Golden Boy and Tinman?”

The bouncer to his credit looked thoroughly unimpressed instead of amused when he stepped aside to let them in. Bucky grit his teeth anyway, anger coursing through his veins. “That fucking-”

“Hey. It’s just Tony being Tony.” Steve trying to placate him wasn't working. “It’s better than Cyborg, right?”

Tinman. Cyborg. Tony tried to say the nicknames were because his left sleeve looked like a metal arm, but the man said in passing once that he was cold. Heartless. Just because Bucky didn’t show his emotions to people he didn't care for didn’t mean he didn’t have them.

“Tony being Tony doesn’t give him a pass to be a dick, Golden Boy,” he said, holding up a finger. “One hour. You get one fucking hour.”

“Please, don’t call me that,” Steve begged. The man with a heart of gold to match his hair and a pair of fists ready to strike for anyone who needed defending. Everyone in their circle looked to him as a man who always tried to do the right thing. “And fine. One hour.”

As they walked further into the club, vibrant energy surrounded them. Red and yellow lights cast a warm glow to create a welcoming ambience, while plush seats and sleek decor added a touch of glamor and sultriness. The bar, illuminated and inviting, beckoned patrons to select their drinks. The music was perfectly balanced, not too loud or overwhelming, allowing for easy conversation amidst the lively atmosphere.

Bucky didn’t want to give Tony too much credit and make his head swell more, but it was a nice place.

“So, where are we sitting?” He asked.

As if on cue, a woman in a smart black dress approached. Not a single hair out of place. “Pepper, good to see you,” Steve smiled at her. Bucky recognized her now. Tony’s personal assistant, had been for years. She did her job well and the man’s schedule and life would fall apart if he didn’t have her around.

“Good to see you, too. And you two are the first to arrive,” she smiled. “Right this way, please.”

Bucky looked around again as Pepper led them to a quiet VIP area flanked by a couple of guards. The space was just as bright as the main room, but above the center table hung a large, modern crystal chandelier: a focal point that hinted at the Stark fortune. The small stage set up at the back of the room surprised him. Was it for performers or merely for show?

“About time you showed up,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. Tony Stark, the man himself, sat in the middle of a sofa with a glass of whiskey in hand. With his three piece suit and perfectly trimmed dark goatee, he looked very much like the king of one of his many castles. Even had on a pair of his signature sunglasses because who didn't like wearing sunglasses indoors? “Or did it take you old men a while to figure out the names? Told Sy not to let you in without them.”

An apologetic look crossed Pepper’s face. “For the record, I told him not to do that,” she said, gesturing for them to sit. Bucky opted to sit in a chair that he didn't want to admit was extremely comfortable. “But he never listens to me.”

“You still love me,” Tony called after her as she left the area. “No hard feelings about the nicknames, right? It’s all in good fun.”

Bucky huffed as Steve took a seat beside Tony, effectively dividing them. “First the nicknames, and now you call us old men? You look older than we do,” Bucky said, pointing to Tony’s hair. “In fact, I think I see some gray you missed on your dye job.”

As Bucky got older, he had come to love the gray in his own beard and hair. It was a good look. Maybe the right girl would appreciate it.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Barnes. Always a pleasure.”

“Stark,” he said, baring his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Never a pleasure.”

“Cut it out,” Steve chastised, giving Bucky an exasperated look, which only earned him a shrug in response. Did he expect him to play nice when he didn't want to be there? “Tony, the place looks great.”

“Of course it does, Rogers. Did you expect anything less? Though it’s always nice to get a compliment from you.” Tony set his drink down and tapped the screen of his phone, causing the red and yellow lights to switch to blue and white. “That’s your cue, Barnes.”

“Nice lights,” he mumbled, leaning his chin on his hand. One hour…

Tony scoffed. “Would it kill you to give a real compliment, or are you holding back because I own it?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Does my opinion even matter? You already think it’s perfect. I’m sure everyone else has kissed your ass about it, and I don’t feel like chapping my lips.”

Tony sat up straighter. “If I really wanted my ass kissed, I’d call your little sister,” he sneered, nudging Steve’s arm. “She’s free, right?”

“Tony, stop.” Steve warned when Bucky's jaw clenched.

“What?” Tony smirked more. “I heard she just got out of a relationship and maybe I can help her get over that broken heart.”

Bucky almost got out of his seat. Becca was a sweetheart and Tony didn't deserve to breathe the same air as her. “You even think about touching her, I’ll break your fucking-”

“Hey! That’s enough.” Steve sounded pissed off enough that they shut up. “Tony, he’s not trying to be a dick. He just wanted to work on a car tonight. Doesn't mean you need to bring his sister into it,” Steve said to Tony in a calmer tone, giving Bucky another look. “And you know he wouldn't fool around with Becca. You’re letting your fight with your dad get to you.”

Bucky slowly exhaled. “I know.” He felt a pinch of guilt. He had let his dad sour his mood and dismissed Tony’s club when Tony was at least nice enough to extend an invitation. It also wasn't fair to make Steve play referee when he deserved a fun night. “And I think we’re all varying degrees of dicks here.”

Unexpected respect and understanding filled Tony’s eyes, replacing his usual disdain. “Rather tinker with something than hang out here? I get it. And asshole fathers, I get that, too,” he said, downing the remainder of his glass. Bucky had nearly forgotten that Tony had issues with his own dad. “But let’s be serious, we all know I’m the biggest dick here.”

That brought a chuckle out of all three of them. It was the closest thing to an apology. “I would drink to that if I had one,” Bucky joked.

Tony tapped the screen of his phone again in a short pattern and the middle of the table rose up to reveal a decanter and empty glasses. “Top shelf and on the house even though you can afford it.”

“We’re still going to tip. You can give it to the staff working tonight,” Steve offered, pouring each of them a glass and passing one over. “And now that we’ve gotten some of the unpleasantness out of the way, can we get on with the evening? Please?”

The men nodded, but Bucky still needed more than one stiff drink to get him through the hour. At least Tony brought out the good stuff for them to indulge. “I have to ask, where are the rest of your friends?” He expected the VIP section to be overflowing with his usual crowd instead of being nearly empty.

“On their way,” Tony said, waving a hand toward the stage. “I wanted you two to get a private show with my new star because I have a feeling you’ll appreciate her talent more than the others. And when I say this one is special, I mean it. Voice and body of an angel. Or a siren. Whatever you’re into.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. A new star? That was why he wanted them to stop by? “Have you slept with her?” Steve asked pointedly. Bucky almost asked the same question. Tony had a reputation for a reason and being a member of his staff wouldn’t stop him from trying.

“Nope. Not this one. Not for lack of trying,” Tony said, checking the time before the lights dimmed. “She told me to ‘kindly fuck off’ when I hit on her and I gave her a raise because why the hell not?”

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “She turned you down? I like her already,” He smirked, instantly intrigued by this mystery woman who didn't fall for Tony’s charms like so many others. “I may even have to buy her a drink.”

“Just wait ‘til you hear her sing, Tinman,” Tony said, resting back against the sofa. “Even you will love her.”

A spotlight illuminated the stage when soft music began to play. The curtain opened wide enough for a stunning figure in a long red dress to step through. Bucky leaned forward in his chair, captivated by your beauty. His heart raced, and his throat went dry as your gaze met his. He tightened his grip on the glass, nearly downing it in one gulp as you moved toward the microphone, but couldn't look away as you smiled.

Where the hell did Tony find someone so enchanting?

Bucky waited with bated breath before you began to sing. One note. That was all it took. He was lost. Gone.

Yours.

Oh, I just had to end the intro there. 😇 I wonder what our reader is like and what she'll think of Bucky. @targaryenvampireslayer @yenzys-lucky-charm @ghotifishreads @tavners @holacia3 a certain edit may come into play later... 😏 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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jade-jini · 1 year ago

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could i request my loser gp!sakura who keeps getting a hard on during rehearsels because of seeing reader doing the throwing it back move in Perfect Night 😓 and ofc reader has to helo help!!! duh!!!

(Pervert Sakura is a popular favorite am I right or am I right yall?)

Sakura looking at you like this as you kept practicing the same moves over and over again ‘cause you couldn’t seem to get them right. At first she was just cheering you up, calling your name and clapping so you could feel supported and motivated by her as the good member and unnie she was<3 but when you were throwing it back -

Even after you got that part perfect, she kept telling you to work on it ‘cause “you weren’t there yet”, she’d say while discreetly fixing her boner in her shorts. What a good unnie, even offering to stay with you when everybody else left so you wouldn’t be alone practicing :((. Whole time she just loved how you moved and wanted to watch you without the risk of the other members and the choreographer catching her. Having to constantly check she wasn’t drooling ‘cause she kept staring at you with her mouth open like a dumbass 😭. Telling you she was gonna help you fix your posture, but it was just an excuse to get her hands on you, rubbing herself against your ass hoping you wouldn’t notice it ‘cause she wanted that feeling in her brain for later on that night when she gets home and touches herself thinking about you.

But Ofc you noticed, girlie was hard af, and too much of a stupid pervert to realize she was being too obvious.

“Unnie, what’s that?” You said, trying to turn around to see what was it that was poking your low back lmao

“W-what’s what?” She asked, trying her best to sound calm.

“I think your belt is hurting me wait”

“No! y/n wait-” she argued, trying to stop you from turning around, she didn’t need one of her members knowing how dirty minded she is :( but as you guys struggled a bit, she fell on her ass. With her hands still on your waist, she took you with her, making you fall seated on her lap. “Oh fuck..” she groaned, the pressure on her cock hurting but not in the bad way at all.

“Oh God, unnie I’m so sorry, are you ok?” You asked her, worried that you might have hurt her since the sounds she was making made it seem like it.

“Hmm y/n wait, stay like that please…” Sakura practically begged, starting to lose a grip on herself, having you so close to her like this making her forget she couldn’t just have you without making sure you were ok with it first. Her hands firm on your body stopping you from getting up. Her behavior got you a little confused, did you actually hurt her? If you did she would’ve tried to get you off her, right?

“What? Kkura unnie are you sure you’re ok? And what’s this on your pocket that keeps poking my leg-” you moved a bit just to give your hand enough space to check what was it on Sakura’s pants, and stopped when you realized. How stupid were you not to think about that possibility before. Sakura gulped, both ‘cause of the contact of your hand with her member, and because you caught her in such an embarrassing state. She was a little scared, what if you were disgusted by it? What if you didn’t wanna be friends with her anymore? What if you tell the others? Oh god, how would this affect the whole group? A million thoughts running through her head, while her other head stayed hard as a rock. However, you were everything but disgusted by this.

“So that’s why you kept telling me to continue practicing, huh?” You said, teasing her neck with your nose, your breath causing shivers on the older girl. “Tell me, unnie. When did I actually get it right, hm? For how long you kept me going just ‘cause you wanted to see me?”

“y/n, I-I’m sorry. I really am, I didn’t mean to-” she started apologizing, her voice trembling.

“Shh, it’s ok. You’re already having a hard time right now anyways, aren’t you?” You asked her, your voice softening as your eyes moved to her covered member. “Does it hurt, unnie?”

She didn’t say anything, she just nodded while her eyes followed yours, ashamed to look at you.

“Then I guess I should help you.”

“Eh?!” Sakura asked looking at you so fast with eyes wide open, not sure if she could trust her ears.

“Oh please, don’t act silly now. We both know this is what you wanted, right?” She nodded again, her face red. “Then let me be good and help my unnie. She helped me enough today with my practicing, right? It’s just compensating.”

And that’s how you ended up sucking her dick while she was seated with her back against the wall, the mirror in front of you guys as she enjoyed looking at you from time to time. Sakura’s cock was so sensitive though, that with every lick your tongue gave it she left out whimper after whimper. The tip turning from a pinkish to a more red color, you couldn’t help but play with it with the tip of your tongue. This making her not know what to do with her hands, they went from rubbing your back as she moaned “so good, baby. So fucking good…” to biting her fingers, to grabbing her own neck slightly with one hand, to her nails scratching the floor and the wall behind her, trying to grab anything while her brain became nothing with the delicious sensation of your mouth on her length. The deeper you got it inside your mouth, the closer you were pushing her to her orgasm.

“Ugh baby I’m so close, just like that…” She asked, her hands grabbing your head and keeping you close, making sure you stay right where you were. “Be good and keep unnie’s cock in your pretty mouth when she cums, ok?” She cooed you, letting you breathe for a few seconds only.

“Yes unnie…” you said, catching your breath as you quickly put her back inside your mouth.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” the older girl moaned, her voice hitting higher tones as she started fucking your mouth. You looked up and felt yourself clenching around nothing as Sakura looked so hot lost in her pleasure. Her eyes closed, biting her lip to try and fail to contain the obnoxious noises coming from her mouth. “Oh my god…” you heard her at the same time that thick ropes of cum went down your throat, barely allowing any air to enter but you didn’t care at all, you felt so good knowing it was your Sakura unnie using you like this. Knowing she was this horribly horny just ‘cause she watched you dancing.

You swallowed everything Kkura gave you, and when the grip on your head got loose, you finally took her cock off your mouth. When you sat next to her, she was still not there, clearly. Processing her orgasm, she just sighed and whispered “thank you..” and Omg she just looked so cute, with her hair all messy and her facial features clean of makeup and relaxed. You just giggled “anytime, unnie~” and kissed her cheek before resting on her shoulder, hoping practice becomes this interesting next time soon.

Ngl I went back to watch the dance performance and I got distracted🧍🏻‍♀️

#kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #le sserafim #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim scenarios #le sserafim x y/n #miyawaki sakura #miyawaki sakura x reader #g!p loser Sakura x reader #le sserafim sakura #miyawaki sakura smut #le sserafim smut

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soobrat · 2 years ago

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cool off; ldh

🖱️⤻ pairing; afab!reader x haechan 🖱️⤻ word count; 4.6k 🖱️⤻ genre; smut & fluff 🖱️⤻ synopsis; haechan lets you in on a practice room secret that leads to a new hang out buddy during practice 🖱️⤻ warnings; unprotected sex (this is getting ridiculous), oral play (hyuck receiving), piv, doggy style, dirty talk, pet name (angel), public sex(?), switch!ish, soft but fun

⌨️⤻ How’s this for a meet cute lol. This is not accurate because Haechan oozes confidence. Most of my works aren’t accurate tho bc I don’t know them so it’s alright.

"See you guys at the dorm." Johnny tacked on just before exiting the practice room. Mark and Haechan don't answer, just collapse to the floor. Their chests heave in unison as they lie under the vent. All the sweat that was bothersome ten minutes ago was now welcome as it chilled under the cool air. Being comfortable with each other, they felt no need to voice any of their thoughts or fill the air with conversation, Haechan and Mark just sat quietly and enjoyed their moment of rest. It was easy to forget where they were this way.

After what felt like hours of lying under the vent, they jump as they hear the door click open. Expecting a member that forgot something made for a lot of confusion when you peek your head through the door. You gasp, eyes blowing wide before you pull your head back and close the door. Mark and Haechan stare at the closed door as you and a choreographer go back and forth.

"What's the matter? Go back in there." The manager chuckles.

"There are two members of NCT in there!" You whisper the name like it's some forbidden word.

"It's fine! I'm pretty sure they're on their way out. Just go in there with them!"

"Are you crazy?!"

Haechan had never seen your face before. No regular trainees were allowed in this practice room. Only debuted idols, groups preparing for debut, and special trainees. Any of those were possible, but what if...

"You think that's her?" Haechan rolls his head toward Mark with raised eyebrows.

"What? No way." Mark continues to stare at the door, hiding his disbelieving look from Haechan. "Well..." He lifts his shoulders, quirking one of his brows, "I guess it could be. But what are the odds? We were just talking about her and now she's here."

"Good odds, I'd say." Haechan mumbles, lifting his body slightly to peer over Mark at the door.

Some of the boys thought you were a pain. Technically, you weren't a proper trainee. Just someone the CEO really wants to be one, so he's giving you the full star treatment. Letting you practice here, use their studio to produce songs (hopefully more for their artists), and even let you around the artists themselves. None of them have ever seen you, for reasons that are now apparent, but the fact that the company was allowing this was unbelievable. Some may even say unfair. Haechan just thinks you've proved your talent enough to open doors. How could he not admire that?

"How many amazing producers have we had? None of them have gotten this treatment." Said Johnny a few days prior. "She's probably just pretty." He brushes off.

He was wrong. You weren't pretty. If you were truly who Haechan thought you were, you were absolutely breathtaking. Haechan swallows hard.

--🖱️▷

"Good job!"

You groan loudly, completely blocking out the choreographer's praise as you flop to the floor. "It's hot!"

"Well!" She claps her hands together before continuing. "We'll practice again tomorrow. And by that I mean we're practicing together tomorrow. Don't you dare stop practicing on your own." She scolds and you groan again.

This is what was expected of you. You wanted to be a soloist for the sake of your irrational fear of all your members hating you. It's just a little easier on your social anxiety this way you told yourself. Now you have to work twice as hard. All eyes are on you. Was all this worth it? Should you just go back to being behind the scenes? You did enjoy singing and dancing. Being an idol was something you dreamed of since you were a little girl. But perhaps you were being a little unrealistic. Maybe you're just not cut out for this...

Why is it so hot?

You stand up from the ground, sweat was starting to collect on your back. Plus, the heat was accumulating from lying there. You wander around the room, in search of relief before you continue practicing.

As if the heavens themselves open up above your head, a cool gust of air hits your body and you all but faint. "That feels so nice." You breathe, sweat trickling down your neck. Your body goes rigid as the door creaks open.

From across the room, you stare at Haechan like a deer caught in headlights. He chuckles to himself before he makes his way toward you, noting the way your limbs draw together like you're trying to physically shrink into yourself. Haechan plants himself right in front of you. You try to look at his face but you're so flustered it's almost debilitating. Did you do something wrong? Were he and his members not actually done as your choreographer suggested? Was he about to chew you out?

Haechan huffs, resting his hands on his hips before looking at the ceiling. The corner of his mouth twitches. He inhales slightly, tilting his head back down before fixing his eyes on your anxious face.

"You know, it actually feels better if you lay down."

You finally build the courage to look up at him. Once you do, you find it hard to look away. The way his face melts into a warm smile makes your heart do flips. Your tongue darts out to wet your increasingly dry lips. "R-really?"

Haechan's smile grows. "Yeah." He chuckles. "When you stand up, it only hits your head and shoulders, maybe your arms a little bit. When you lay down, it hits everything, and it's easier to relax."

You nod, but it's hard to focus on anything else but every muscle that moves on your body. You're just wondering if this celebrity noticed how hard you just gulped in front of him.

"Try it." Haechan takes a step back, gesturing toward the wooden floor. You blink up at him before whispering a small 'oh'. You awkwardly settle onto the floor, feeling utterly embarrassed as Haechan watches you lie on the floor. As soon as your back hits it, you gasp. The crisp air hits the entire front half of your body. It's almost too cold as it cools every drop of sweat exposed to it.

"See?" Haechan raises his eyebrows and you nod again.

"Thank you for showing me this." You say quietly, eyes moving everywhere but on him. You clear your throat.

"Is something wrong?"

"No... it's just... this is kinda weird." You gesture up at him from the floor.

"Ah!"

You watch in awe as Haechan lowers himself to the floor as well, lying right next to you. You can't possibly ignore how close your hands are to touching. "Is this better?"

"To be honest, I'm not sure if it is." You say bluntly, turning your head to look at him. Bad idea. He has these round puppy dog eyes. The kind that could melt ice cream with their intense warmth. You would verbally swoon if you were out of your mind.

"What, is there something on my face?" Haechan instinctively wipes the corners of his mouth. Just then you get a bright idea. Nothing breaks you out of that ‘this is painfully awkward please end this interaction immediately’ phase faster than some lighthearted joking.

"Mhm," you nod before pointing at his forehead. "right... here."

"Really?!" He stands up and hobbles toward the huge wall of mirrors you forgot about. You see, he was supposed to ask you to guide him to the spot and after a few seconds of misdirection you'd go 'just kidding!' and laughter would hopefully ensue.

What were you supposed to do now?! Now he was behind you and it'd be awkward to turn around and say 'just kidding!' from the floor, should you get up-

"Where? I don't see anything?"

You plant your palm firmly on your face.

"Wait... did you trick me?" Haechan laughs loudly in disbelief as he walks back over to tower over your body.

"Yeah." You say after you've had your fill of facepalming.

"Ha!" He laughs again before kneeling beside you. "Are you embarrassed?" He narrows his eyes at you.

"Yeah." You repeat before snorting.

"Okay." Haechan crosses his legs before pursing his lips. "I'm a little insulted that you just successfully embarrassed me without even being confident in your own prank." He nods slowly, clearing his throat awkwardly. You giggle, covering your mouth.

"I'm sorry." You squeak, closing your eyes.

"No, it's okay." He draws out the 'no', clearly not sincere in his consolation. "Just a little pathetic." He gestures with his fingers to illustrate how little. You gawk at him in disbelief.

"Huh?"

"I mean, my little cousin can pull off that prank perfectly. He's seven." Haechan rests his hand on your shoulder to further his faux consolation.

"Hey!" You sit up from the floor. "This is not making me feel better."

"Good, you made me think I had something on my face while I was talking to a pretty girl."

You gasp before slapping your hand over your mouth. Haechan rolls his eyes. "Oh, what? You don't know that you're pretty?"

"I-I mean... I-I don't know..." You stammer like an idiot.

"Well you are. And that's putting it lightly." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs as he peers up at you. Saying such pretty words with those constellation-filled eyes. If your heart was doing flips earlier, it was doing an entire gymnastics routine now. You play with your fingers, tearing your gaze away from him. You weren't sure how to respond. You were never good at taking compliments about your appearance.

"I uh... I have to continue practicing." You point your thumb behind you before settling it back into your lap.

"Oh, right." Haechan nods as he stands up from the floor. "Practicing is important."

"But we can talk another time." It sounds more like a suggestion than an act of disclosure, but just to be sure you don't sound too pushy you tack on a "Right?" at the end.

Haechan exhales amusedly. "Of course, how else are you gonna learn the ins and outs of the practice room?"

--🖱️▷

You didn't learn much, but you were definitely much cooler. You spent every break you had lying on the floor with Haechan. It wasn't the most picturesque location, but you didn't mind it. Spending time with him made it easy to ignore the strangeness of lying on the floor. It was a bit harder to ignore once his members started calling you his "floor buddy", but it wasn't too humiliating. Even less so since Haechan never protested. Seems like he didn't mind it either.

If he were honest, he doesn't understand why he catches you staring at him. What is more puzzling was the way you get flustered when he brings it up.

"You're not gonna prank me again, are you?" Haechan looks at you with suspicion sewn into his expression. You press your fingers to your cheek like you're checking their temperature.

"No! I'm not."

"Just checking now that I know you're this big prankster."

You throw your head back against the floor in defeat. You don't stand a chance against Haechan's teasing. He always manages to make you tap out.

"No, but really..." Haechan starts and you turn your head toward him. "Why are you always staring at me?" He tries to keep a straight face, but his confusion seeps through when his eyebrows furrow slightly. Your mouth hangs open as your eyes dart around the room. Truthfully, you had no honest answer that didn't make you seem suspicious. You're sure some people think you're a rich brat who's here just to hang around idols and ogle at them. Admitting to Haechan that that's exactly what you were just doing felt wrong. Could he trust you enough to continue hanging out with you after that? Perhaps keeping it a secret was worse, but perhaps you were okay with being a little bit selfish. Being with Haechan was making all this grueling practice bearable.

"Uhh... subject change! How was that variety show-"

"Nice try. Actually, horrible try. Why would you announce-?"

"I don't know." You hide your face in your hands, muffling the incoming whines.

"So tell me what I need to know." Haechan shifts his body to the side, resting his head on his hand. Your eyes flicker around the room, feeling something uncomfortable stirring inside your stomach. Not only would Haechan find out that you were ogling him, but he'd also find out you thought he was attractive this whole time. There's no way a confession like that would leave your relationship unscathed. Sure, Haechan says it all the time. But his excuse of 'it's just a fact' was starting to work on you. The way he'd nonchalantly shrug his shoulders after every "you're beautiful" was believable. Your heart reacted nonetheless.

There's no way you'd be able to play it off as a simple observation. You'd gulp and stammer and squirm, no doubt about it. But there was no backing out of this apparently, so here goes nothing.

"I-I think you're very handsome, Haechan." You try to keep your eyes on his blinking ones, but ultimately fail. You groan, hiding your face again.

"Haha. Very funny."

You peel your hands from your face to peer at Haechan who had turned off his side. "Funny?"

"You're getting better at the pranks, I'll admit it." He laughs dryly.

"What prank? Haechan, I'm serious." You maneuver closer to him, puzzled by his reaction. He flops his head to the side, a scrutinizing look on his face.

"You don't have to lie to make me feel better. Like I said, you're pretty and that's just a fact. You don't have to try and return the compliment."

You lie there quietly for a moment as he fixates back on the vent. "Do you seriously think I'm pretending to stare at you?"

"More like there's a different reason you're doing so."

"What? Like me thinking you're ugly or something? That's not it at all!"

He sighs. "Don't lie."

You push yourself up with your elbow, ready to pour your heart out about how he makes you go crazy every time you see his face, but you get a different idea. One that fills your body with nervous excitement. You overcome the nerves as you look at his face again. The slight annoyance on his face made him look irresistibly adorable. Those damned puppy dog eyes glitter like the stars. How soft his caramel-tinted skin looks. His lips look... inviting. You grab his face, smushing it between your hands as you deliberate once more. He looks at you in confusion before you lean down slowly and press your lips to his.

It was a short and sweet kiss, lips still adhered for a moment as you pull away. His lips glisten with the lip balm that transferred to them. He was dazed, and a bit shocked for a moment, but soon enough his lids grew heavier as he sits up and dives in for another kiss. Just as sweet as before, but with a bit more longing. Both of his hands made their way to your jaw, fingertips sneaking into the nape of your hair.

He tasted like mint and the sugar from whatever he was snacking on earlier. His lips brushed against yours as he readjusted to suck on your bottom lip. You sigh against him, fingers finding the back of his shirt before clenching onto it. You felt dizzy, almost like you were drunk. That must be what was stopping you from stopping this. Someone could walk in at any moment. Hell, someone could walk past and peek in. This was not safe for either of you, but none of that mattered more than your need to feel and taste each other.

You tasted so fucking good. Your vanilla-flavored lip balm was the cherry on top. It made both of your mouths soft and slick so your lips glide against each other with more ease. Haechan was getting riled up fast. More than anyone, he should stop before he does something stupid like acting on his primal urges. Urges that grew stronger when he tugs on your hair, eliciting a pretty noise from you. He pulls away with a chuckle. "Having fun, angel?"

You miss his lips already, so much that you feel spontaneous. You lift your thumb toward his bottom lip, smoothing your thumb along the plump flesh. You're mesmerized by your own actions, and he's mesmerized by you.

"What has gotten into you?" He asks in a hushed voice.

"Haechan..." You start, still staring at his lips. "You're so hot," You finally look at him, watching as his eyes go wide, "so annoyingly, devastatingly hot. Not just your face, but how you talk, how you carry yourself. I... I just can't get enough of you." You rush out before heaving as you stare into his eyes. It was a bit entertaining to watch him be the one flustered by compliments. Seems like the teddy bear can dish it but not take it. You smile with a giggle. "You're so sexy Haechan-"

"Shut up." He crashes his lips against yours, pushing you over so that you're laying on your back. He rests his hands beneath your head, lifting it up so he can move his lips against yours properly. You feel something protruding against your stomach. You gasp lightly against his mouth, yearning stronger for him when he bites your lip. “You talk too much.” He growls.

He was doing a great job at shutting you up. You were too preoccupied with trying to inconspicuously push forward for a better feel of his bulge. You couldn’t even do it a second time before he catches on to what you’re doing. He shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you. “You are just full of surprises.”

He slides lower until the outline of his heavy member is resting directly on your mound. You can feel his thick shaft so vividly through the thin cotton of your shorts and underwear. “This what you want?” He quirks up an eyebrow at you. You nod, though your lip caught in your teeth and wanton expression already gave it away.

“Okay,” Haechan sits up on his knees, ceasing all friction. Your hips chase his, huffing when you can’t reach him.

“Take it.” He nods at his steadily hardening member. Settling on your forearms, you look at him confusedly. “I wanna see how many more surprises you have for me.” He smirks, voice deep, shooting right to your core. He looks so cocky. Unlike most men, it fits him so well. His lowered lids with a slanted smile suggested he didn’t think you were capable of taking the lead.

With how flustered you constantly are, Haechan expects you to be a whimpering, whiny mess in bed. He’d find it cute, of course, but he wants to see you act with a little confidence. Someone who looks like you should be the most confident motherfucker around.

He was always teasing you and gaining the upper hand with his certitude and wit. After getting a taste of how he acted when he was flustered, you needed to experience it more. So you lean forward, sliding your legs from under him and pushing him back. You catch a glimpse of a shocked expression as you press a splayed hand against his chest and it nourishes your determination. With a single, swift motion you pull the bow his drawstring was tied in loose. He watches eagerly as you push his pants down, lifting his hips to aid the process.

The sight of his more prominent outline makes your mouth go dry. His tan thighs are a sight you could get used to. You run your hands up his thighs, feeling how hot his skin is and how it erupts in goosebumps at your touch. You move them further until they’re resting on either side of his member. He puffs out a frustrated exhale.

“I’d love to take my time with you angel but we haven’t got all day.”

You grin up at him mischievously. And who said you weren’t good at teasing? If the Donghyuk from the first day you met saw how you slid his underwear down his legs and looked hungrily at his hard cock he wouldn’t believe his eyes. Not that he’s any less surprised right now. Your eyes are blown out as you inspect his phallus. Sufficiently veiny and thick, making up for where it lacks in length. You brush your fingers up the shaft, feeling the silky skin. He hisses, face tensing as he watches. He switches between watching your hand and your curious eyes before he exhales amusedly.

“You’re a virgin aren’t you?”

You place your entire hand along the base to get a proper measurement. The angle of it solidifies in your mind how well it’ll hit your g-spot.

“Nope.” You push him down so his upper body is flat against the floor. There’s a fondness to his gaze that lights a fire behind your cheeks. You lower yourself between his legs and begin kissing up his thighs. Just this is enough for Haechan. He makes a mental note to let you mark up his thighs when there’s more time to spare. But for now, he wants you to get on with it.

“Need I remind you where we are, angel?” His face pinches in pleasure when you plant a kiss on his balls. You ignore him and seek out that reaction again, sucking one of them into your mouth. His hot shaft raises the temperature of your hand as you wrap around it. A salacious moan breaches from his throat as you transition from no stimulation to sucking his balls and pumping his dick. Getting your fill from one side you switch to the other, coating it in a thick layer of saliva with a lengthy lap of your tongue. You pull your face away to let a little spit dribble from your tongue before sucking again. Arousal pumps fiercely through Haechan’s veins as you stimulate him. He tries and fails to keep quiet, choked groans slipping through every now and then. He squeezes his lips tight when you suck both sides into your mouth.

What he was witnessing was a masterpiece. Such a beautiful face dirtying up his dick and balls. So dedicated to get him off while looking so fitting for your pet name. “Angel,” he shudders, “I wanna fuck.”

“Hm?” You ignore him. You’re sitting pretty on your high horse with no intention of getting off any time soon. You want him to either whine and beg for it or cum all over your face. It’s a welcome change of pace to see him like this. And just for you? You could cum untouched. You release his balls with a pop before trailing your tongue to his shaft. He drops his head back with a heavy sigh as you trail wet, sloppy kisses up his shaft. “Fuck–” He breathes harshly and you can tell he’s getting there.

You run your spit-slicked lips up and down his member, poking your tongue out to kitty lick here and there, until his member starts twitching. He whines something under his breath and the sound makes you buck against his leg. “What was that?”

“Need you, need you…” He murmurs mindlessly, flicking his hips up involuntarily. You deliver full-on licks to his shaft until his stomach starts tensing and his moans pick up in frequency. “Please– fuck!”

You don’t listen again, you just give his tip the same treatment you gave his balls. Haechan’s torso jumps up from the floor as he moans louder than you’ve ever heard him. You giggle, “Hm~ I found the sweet spot I think.”

“Think this is funny?” He looks flush, hair beginning to stick to his forehead and pupils blown wide. If he was setting out to hypnotize you, it was working because you were entranced by his eyes. He takes the opportunity to push on top of you and flip you over. You nearly yelp but he covers your mouth with his hand. “No more slip-ups, we can’t get caught okay?” You nod within his grasp. “Good, because it would suck if we had to stop.” He purrs as he slips your shorts down as well as he can with one hand. You nod again and he coos a bit of praise.

He slips his hand from your mouth and kisses your cheek softly. You just about melt, and you feel like you actually could after what he says next.

“I told you I needed you and I meant it.” He shoves your shorts the rest of the way down and lowers his hips until his tip is spreading you open. Your lips part like softened butter until he’s fully submerged inside you. He pants next to your ear before peppering more feather-light kisses along your jaw and neck. When he bottoms out you feel a groan rumble in his chest. You keen, pushing back until there’s no space between you.

Haechan rises further on his knees to make up for it before dropping his hips down. You gasp and his hand is back over your mouth, not stopping his onslaught of pounding. Countless coos of praise fill your ears as he fucks the sense right out of you. Your eyes roll up, legs twitching as he fills you up slam after slam. You mumble your own praise incoherently behind his hand which makes him chuckle beside your ear. “Knew you’d be cute getting fucked.”

He angles his hips to brush against your frontmost wall and rubs at your g-spot again and again. “F-feels so good.” You know he can’t hear you but it was just mindless blabbering anyway. You worry for a moment that all this drilling will leave your legs hurting and prevent you from following instructions, but every thrust wipes your worries away. You feel connected and close to Haechan in a way you didn’t know you needed until now. You pull his hand away and chuckle slightly. “Need you too, Haechan.” You breathe until you’re whimpering again and he has to re-cover your mouth. “I love to hear it, angel.”

You can feel fractures of your orgasm beginning to form, tingling up your thighs and collecting in your groin. You suck in a harsh breath as your legs quiver. “‘m fucking cumming.” Haechan mutters as his hips stutter and his knees slide against the floor. Hearing his sounds build in desperation makes your abdomen clench and in turn, your walls. Haechan bites your shoulder in an attempt to muffle the resounding cry that crawls from his throat. His hips buck wildly into you, jolting you forward until your orgasm fills your channel and joins his spurting semen.

The two of you are only afforded two or three minutes to come down, but it feels like an eternity of bliss so you’re okay with it. Haechan pulls the both of you up and embraces you while he stays inside. Then the sound of multiple people thundering toward the practice room cause you both to jump up and situate yourselves as quickly as possible.

--🖱️▷

The rest of 127 watch as you and Haechan talk across the room. Taeyong is the first to talk. “They had sex didn’t they.” He narrows his eyes at Haechan leaning in and whispering something in your ear, he notes your shocked expression and subsequent slap of is arm.

“I caught onto that like… last month.” Mark mumbles.

“Really? I thought she’d be too shy. She doesn’t seem like the type.” Doyoung says before reflecting. Then one, two, three beats pass before Taeyong speaks again.

“You guys think they did it on the floor?”

The rest of the members react in audible disgust which makes the two of you look over. “Where do you think they did it?” Johnny asks, suddenly panicked about everywhere his feet land.

Mark looks around sheepishly before mumbling, “Just steer clear of the vent."

likes and reblogs are very appreciated! 🖱️⤻ nct dream & 127 masterlists

#800 #I've been waiting to post this for AGES #FiNALLY #haechan #donghyuck #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #nct #nct dream #kpop #smut #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #lee haechan smut #kpop smut #nct smut #nct dream smut

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upat4amwiththemoon · 2 years ago

Note

Hey can I have a platonic teen gn reader who has dyslexia( it is a reading and writing disability) x Avengers who goes to Peter’s school. They feel worthless and frustrated because they need help yet they can’t help others with English. So they try very hard yet it barely gets noticed. They are working so hard to the point they break. It is ok if you don’t do it. Thanks

Struggles

Summary: Working twice as hard just to reach their level.

Pairing: Avengers x gn!teen!reader

Warnings: I have a limited knowledge of dyslexia

Word count: 706

a/n: hopefully this is what you had in mind

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

Y/N mumbles a paragraph from the assigned book again. It’s the third time they are reading it through, struggling to fully comprehend what’s being said. Frustration is starting to rise, as the book has to be read by the end of the week, and they have to write a short essay on it to prove they read it.

“This one had a mast thin as a sapling. Its sail hung skewed and fraying, its sides were patched. I remember the jump in my throat when the sailor lifted his face. Burnt it was, an shiny with sun. A mortal.” They read out loud slowly, taking time with each individual word. Sighing, they rub the space between the brows, starting to feel a tension headache coming.

They don’t have a lot of motivation to do this, because they work so hard on every single assignment, but the grades aren’t showing it. It seems like everyone else in her English class is getting effortless As and Bs, while they are crawling along with Cs and Ds.

Slamming the book shut, they throw it to the ground. Y/N leans their head against the table, shutting their eyes tightly. The amount of work they have to put in their school work is starting to get overwhelming.

Taking a deep breath in and letting it out, Y/N lifts their head and gets back to reading. They know they have to use more time to finish the work, even if it’s starting to feel like too much.

Y/N stares at their paper as they and Peter walk into the compound. D. All that work for a D. Their eyes are burning as the two come up to the living room, where some of the Avengers are hanging out. Although, Peter doesn’t live at the compound, he spends a lot of his time there, being good friends with Y/N.

“Hey, kids!” Tony is the first one to greet them. “Got your English assignments back today?”

Peter nods, taking out his paper. “I got a B+.” He smiles.

“Great job, kid!” He claps his hands together once.

“I know the Avengers work takes a lot out of the both of you, so we want you guys to know we’re proud of you.” Steve smiles before turning to Y/N. “What did you get?”

“A D.” They mumble, eyes and cheeks burning. Their gaze is cast downwards, away from their team’s eyes. They don’t want to see any disappointed looks. “I’m sorry, I really tried. I worked so hard on it. I did my best, but it wasn’t enough.” Their voice starts to crack and their whole body shake.

“Hey, hey,” Natasha gets out of her seat, walking to Y/N, “it’s okay. Grades aren’t everything, you don’t need to apologize.” She wraps her arms around them.

“But it’s not just this assignment, it’s every single one.” They lean against Natasha.

“Why didn’t you tell us? Or ask help from anyone?” Steve asks.

Y/N hiccups, lifting their head. “I wanted to prove I could do it by myself, that I could be just as good as everyone else. But I couldn’t.”

“We all need help with something.” Peter sets his hand on Y/N’s arm. “I always need Steve’s help with history. I just can’t remember all the names and years on my own.” Steve nods in confirmation. “I’ll help you out with English, okay? We can work on the assignments together.”

Wiping away their tears, Y/N nods lightly. They didn’t necessarily feel good about crying in front of everyone, wanting to keep a capable picture of themselves in front of the others, but they still feel relieved to get it all out in the open.

“Thank you.” They whisper.

“We’re all here to help you, kid.” Tony speaks up. “Well, they are. I’m no help in book essay thingies.”

With a small laugh, Y/N nods again. “Do you want to go over our essays together now?” Peter asks.

“Yeah.”

Peter and Y/N start walking out of the room. “You two always make us proud!” Tony shouts after them, showing a thumbs up. Peter smiles giddily as they walk towards his room, craving Mr Stark’s acceptance.

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knottedhearts · 1 month ago

Text

Streams. C.Sturniolo

As the stream kicked off, Chris and Y/n sat side-by-side, both focused on the game but sharing the occasional laugh and inside joke. They worked seamlessly as a team, with Y/n providing witty commentary while Chris managed to balance gameplay and reading the chat. Then, someone in the chat sent a question that quickly snowballed, with more and more people typing it out:

“Wait, is Y/n Chris’s girlfriend?”

Chris glanced over, smirking as he read the question. “Oh, you guys want to know about that, huh?” He shot a playful look at Y/n, who immediately went wide-eyed, laughing nervously as the chat started spamming heart emojis and eyes emojis.

“Oh, stop it, Chris,” Y/n said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Focus on the game.”

But Chris wasn’t letting it go that easily. Leaning a bit closer to her, he grinned, “Well, I mean, she’s kinda my favorite person to be around. Wouldn’t you all agree?” He tilted his head toward her, his voice dropping just a little. “I mean, how could I not like her?”

The chat exploded. Messages flew by like, “OMG DID HE JUST SAY THAT?” and “CHRIS YOU’RE MAKING HER BLUSH.”

Y/n’s cheeks turned a soft pink as she rolled her eyes, laughing, “Chris, you’re going to start rumors.”

“Oh, but aren’t rumors just… a little bit true sometimes?” he replied with a wink, keeping his gaze on her for a few seconds longer than usual. The chat’s response? Absolute mayhem. Messages like “HE’S SO SMOOTH!” and “GET TOGETHER ALREADY!” filled the screen, and even some “SHIPPING THIS SO HARD!” comments slipped in.

“Okay, okay, let’s calm down,” Y/n said, waving her hands as if to quiet the chat but clearly trying to hide a smile. “You all heard nothing. We’re just good friends… right, Chris?”

Chris chuckled, giving her a teasing nudge. “Oh, I don’t know, Y/n. Maybe we’ll just leave them guessing.” He shot one last look at the camera, his smile practically a promise that this wouldn’t be the last time the chat got a little surprise. The chat erupted again, filling the screen with declarations of “CUTEST STREAM EVER!”

As the chat continued to flood with heart emojis and shipping comments, Chris leaned back with a playful sigh, glancing at Y/n with that signature smirk.

“Oh, man,” he said, shaking his head with a laugh, “I can already see the edits coming from this. Like, people are going to turn this whole stream into a full-on love story.”

Y/n covered her face, laughing as the chat went wild again. “STOP, CHRIS!” she said, half-laughing, half-groaning, trying to play it cool despite her blush. “You’re just giving them more material!”

Chris shrugged, looking back at the camera with a glint in his eye. “I mean, can you blame them? With moments like these…” He let his voice trail off, giving her a playful wink that had the chat absolutely exploding with messages like “HE KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT HE’S DOING!” and “THEY’RE SO CUTE TOGETHER!”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “Well, great. Now I’m going to see romantic edits all over my feed.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n, you’ll love it,” Chris teased. “Let’s be real, they’ll probably even get the perfect soundtrack for it and everything.”

The chat agreed wholeheartedly, with messages like “WE GOT YOU COVERED!” and “EDITORS, ASSEMBLE!” filling the screen. And as Chris threw one last flirty look her way, the stream practically buzzed with excitement, already anticipating the edits.

As the stream continued, the chat popped up with a new question: “Y/n, what’s your favorite edit?” The question quickly gained momentum as fans flooded the chat with curiosity, and soon Chris noticed too.

“Ohhh, Y/n! They’re asking about your favorite edit,” he said, smirking as he turned toward her. “Come on, let’s hear it.”

Y/n grinned, clearly excited. “Okay, you know that edit where the song’s like, ‘Save your tears, honey, you’re a motherf*ing DIVA’?” She leaned back, laughing. “Yeah, that one. And it’s Nick in the edit, of course.”

Chris burst out laughing, clapping his hands. “Oh my god, that edit is legendary! I should’ve known that would be your favorite.”

The chat instantly went wild, flooding with “YESSS DIVA NICK!”, “THAT SONG HITS DIFFERENT!”, and “WE STAN A DIVA!”

Y/n chuckled, nodding. “I mean, it’s everything—the song, the attitude, Nick’s whole vibe. It’s just perfect.”

Chris leaned in with a grin. “You know, the editors are totally going to make more of those now, just for you.”

The chat buzzed with excitement as fans promised to create even more edits with that energy, while Y/n and Chris laughed at the chaos they’d started.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #y/n #pov #cute #streams

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cookie-crumblr · 7 months ago

Text

Lucky

Shy M!Reader x F!Yandere OC

Part 4~

Her Info: 🪓

Part 1

<<<Previous part _ Next Part>>>

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: M!reader, reader has a penis, reader referred to as he/him, reader has balls and they take damage, reader is cross dressed, reader voms(sorry! you hate blood in this one, not too descriptive tho!) names against reader-not by fl-(pussy, ), violence against reader, bullying, framing, names for reader(Captain, )

Anything in red reader isn’t aware of.

Upon awakening you find that you’re still in Lucy’s lap. Her hand is on your head, and her plush legs are red marked up from where you had been laying on her. There’s an alarm going off somewhere, you get up to look for it, Lucy barely stirs.

It’s your phone going off on her nightstand. You pick it up, and shut it off. It’s a workday…. Uhg. You really don’t want to go in to your shitty retail job… It’s not that it’s hard, it’s just embarrassing and boring.

“Hey Lucy?” You nudge her and she mumbles before rolling onto her side facing you. As her long black painted lashes rest, they flutter slightly in her dreaming state.

You tuck some of her hair nervously behind her ear. Way too much air exits you after, why’d you just do that!? “Uhg!” You stress yourself out.

Okay. We’ll time to head out if you want to even make it to work. You’re a whole forty five minutes away, your google maps is saying. You are still in this stupid dress and collar too. At least she bought you regular clothes too.

Wait… But they got taken to your apartment, you’re going to have to ride in a nuber…. In a frilly dress.

“Fuck!” Oh shit! should you leave a note?? No… That’d be weird, right?

Fuck the note. Fuck the dress and collar. Whatever it’s time to stop playing pretend and get back to reality.

You storm out of her room, and find your way back to the foyer. you aren’t even sure if you actually remembered the way or just got lucky, but you did it. now just to wait for your nuber ride.

Thankfully, the driver doesn’t question you.

You rush into your home hoping nobody saw you… Ezra, lives practically next door, who knows what he’d do if he saw you in a dress! He already seems to hate you, even if he’s never actually picked on you in particular.

You went to middle and highschool with him, and he never really bothered you, he bullied other kids who you were never jealous of.

Once inside you catch your breath before running to your bedroom. On your bed and the floor in front of it, are the bags of clothes Lucy got you. Your bed is also made, and your old clothes are mostly cleaned out aside from a few of your favorite pieces, which, how did they even know which ones were to keep?

You don’t dwell, you’re almost on time! You really can’t afford to lose your job!

You got in trouble for the collar, but you at least proved that you couldn’t take it off for the shift, and they didn’t hassle you too much after that.

After work you take an almost empty bus home, it’s practically a blessing.

You notice the strawberry blonde back of Ezra’s head with a couple of his gang members out on the sidewalk near your apartment.

As soon as you step off the bus, “Y/N, my good ol’ pal! You live right here don’cha?” Ezra claps his hand on your shoulder, and gets real close to your face.

“Ye-yeah?” Your voice comes out a strained and higher pitch than normal.

“Good, good, i need ya to hold onto somethin’ f’r me.”

“N-no thanks, Ezra, hah, so-”

“Na, na, na, you don’t get it, you’re holding onto this gun f’r me.” He states.

“No thank you.” You try to walk away swiftly and get to your building door, but his fingers dig into your shoulder and he pulls you back as if you weigh nothing.

“You don’t wanna do this f’me? Fine.” Ezra grabs you by both of your arms and holds them behind your back.

One of his goons suddenly punches directly into your gut. “Oooof!” all the air is knocked from your lungs, and you double over. Ezra grabs your skull and pulls your head back up. His guy punches you again, this time your left eye is the casualty.

Again he hits you, and you taste blood.

Bile starts forming in the back of your throat…

Your cheeks puff out and your lip quivers.

“Oh shit, Ezra, he’s gonna blow!” The guy takes a step back, his fists lowering.

“Fucking pussy.” He knees you in the balls from behind and throws you onto the ground, embarrassingly with your face down and ass up.

You try as hard as you can with the sharp pain in your lower half, to lift your self at least somewhat off of the ground, and allow yourself to throw up. Eventually you make it off the ground, and you’re stuck there dry heaving without any air, and the metallic tang stuck in your mouth.

“Y/N! What happened?!?” Lucy springs up and starts digging through her bag.

You’re back at class. She was dissociating again when you entered and she seemed like she was gonna say something when you sat down, but as soon as she saw your black eye, her whole demeanor shifted to a more panicked state.

“Listen to me Y/N.” She stops searching for a second to clasp her cute warm hands around your face, and hold you. “I need to know who did this to you.” She’s serious and somehow way scarier than Ezra and his gang. Her wide eyes are wild and her pupils are huge, they swallow her deep brown irises.

“Ezra,” you swallow. Something tells you you shouldn’t have told her, but something told you that for your own good you better have.

She walks out of the lesson.

“Wait!!” You chase after her and look back at the class who doesn’t look the least disturbed. Even the professor doesn’t seem to care.

You lurch forward and grab her wrist, which she snatches back instantly.

“Wha- Lucy! Wait! What are you doing?”

“Oh! Y/N!!” When she sees you it’s like she’s shocked you’re there, even though you haven’t stopped calling her. “I’m sorry…” She whispers, looking down.

Tears are filling her eyes now, “No, it’s okay i shouldn’t have grabbed you!”

“It’s okay!! that’s not… Why I’m mad. Why did Ezra hurt you?” She asks getting lost in thought and dissociating again, “He knows better.”

“He wanted me to hold a gun for him, and i said no.” you ignore the last thing she said. You aren’t sure what kind of stuff she does with other people… “Wait, Lucy… You’re not like… Dating Ezra are you?”

“HAH! Dating him? N-” Her eyes squint and she looks directly at you, “Whyyyy~ ya jealous? hmmmm?”

“What!? Jealous? No! The guy just beat me up! Why would I be jealous.” You cross your arms, “Now come with me back to class.” You muster a command smoothly.

“Aye Captain!” She salutes and walks like some kind of soldier at you. You can’t help but chuckle at her.

That night your nightmares are typical, until flashing red and blue lights rip your eyes open, you dash to the window.

Police are outside taking Ezra in handcuffs.

37 notes · View notes

leafsgarbage · 2 years ago

Text

leave before you love me | m.a.

A/N: It was hard to figure out how to go about this one

Synopsis: He doesn’t really want you to care for him and the little scars he hides so well

Genre: Band!AU, fluff, angst (duh)

Warnings: drug use, strip clubs, toxic relationship,

Pairings: leadsinger!Atsumu x f!reader, timeskip!Atsumu x f!reader.

Main Masterlist

preview,

“We’re going tomorrow night.” Mila says to you. She’s been raving about this band for the longest time. “Taro is opening for them!”

You pull up your head from the kitchen table, you got home 20 minutes ago from working at the club and your head hurts. She knows you love Taro which is why she used that against you. “Fine. I’m not working tomorrow anyway.”

She claps her hands together. “Maybe you could wear what you’re wearing now! Your bodysuit looks cute. Did they tip you for handing them drinks.”

You smile, remembering it was a busy Thursday. “Yea, a bachelor party came in, and although I think they’re absolute pigs, they do tip a shit ton.”

“Ugh, I wish, my shift starts at seven pm, and I finish at midnight so I’ll meet you at the club they’re performing at.” She looks at her watch and notices it’s about six am. “Agh, go to sleep ok, get some rest.”

“G’night.” You change out of your clothes, shower, and then you fall dead on your bed.

You hardly ever have dreams, but this time, you dreamt that you and Mila were somewhere better than a scruffy two bedroom apartment in the middle of Chicago. Despite the shitty apartment, you two had a wonderful view of the city, and that was about the nicest thing you had.

Working as a waitress definitely helped you be able to pay your rent and own a couple of nice things. You love the girls you met there, but you just aren’t sure if this is what you want to be doing forever. There was just never another option for you.

When you wake up its one in the afternoon. You have a long day before you have to meet up with Mila, so you clean the house, make breakfast, and get ready to head to the gym.

It’s about 5pm when you walk in and spot Kenma and Kuroo, your friends from the orphanage. “Hey!” You wave them down and Kuroo gives a big and bright smile while Kenma waves slightly. They own the gym chain after Kenma made a fortune doing what he loves and Kuroo was a good business partner. They’re like you and Mila, joint together. “I haven’t seen you guys around here in forever! What are you guys doing?”

“Monthly inspection at the gyms.” Kenma replies.

Kuroo spits and laughs. “There’s a band that this kid likes in town, so we decided to kill two birds with one stone.”

You think for a second. “Is it the Jaguars or something? Mila and I are going to that too, tonight.”

“It’s The Jackals,” Kenma corrects.

Kuroo points at Kenma then looks back at you. “Did you get reeled in because she said-”

“Taro was going to be there, yes I did.” You two laugh together. Kuroo introduced you to Taro, he’s very big and upcoming, but you assume The Jackals are too since so many people like them. “Do you guys wanna work out with me? Its leg day.”

The two of them cross their arms in an X and shake their heads. “Last time we did that, Kenma was bedridden, and my co-workers made fun of me, so no thank you Sweetie.”

You laugh and punch Kuroo’s shoulder, everyone at the orphanage called you a sweetheart, so Kuroo aptly nicknamed you Sweetie. “Alright you big babies, I’ll see you at the concert.” They wave goodbye and you get to work.

You pull up your workout playlist and decide to add some of The Jackals’s song that would fit your workout playlist. You add Hardest to Love, Starboy, When will I See You Again, and Gimme Love. The first song was upbeat and everything, but the message behind it was so sad. He’s singing how hard it must be to love him and he feels bad that the other person tries so hard and puts up a front to be with him. Obviously at the end, they eventually give up and he talks about how he knew this was going to happen.

Your heart clenches, but you continue to the next song. Starboy was even more upbeat that the last, but it was very accusatory. Like they were pointing a finger at someone and telling them ‘look what you did to me.’ You liked it.

When Will I See You Again was softer than the other two and it was sweet. Not as loud about their feelings as the other ones. It was just about holding someone close to them after them being away.

Then Gimme Love was about a relationship that was pretty doomed, but he can’t help but stay and try his best. He wants what they used to be, and even though it’s not good now, he can’t let go of them.

You listen to your regular playlist by Taro after you finish your squats and head to the leg press. You loved all his songs, but Psycho and Stay were your favorites, you just hoped he played them at his concert.

Once you finish up your workout its already 7pm. You head back home, eat dinner, and go shower again. You get ready in your concert clothes with your boots so your feet don’t die in the mosh. You also put on some makeup, jewelry, and perfume so you don’t smell too bad.

It’s 11pm once you finish and you rush out to get on the train. It’s about a 30-minute ride and you continue to listen to your Taro playlist, excited to see him so soon.

You get off on your stop and walk to the venue. It’s at an underground club in Chicago, they aren’t big artists yet, so the venues are smaller. You were there decently early, there were only about a handful of people so you grabbed a drink and sat at the bar.

You texted Mila to tell her were you were and she said she was leaving the club already. You texted Kuroo and he said they were driving and there was a crazy amount of traffic. So you just sat by yourself.

“Hey, can I get a blue moon.” The bartender cracks one open and hands it to him. “Thanks.”

You chuckle at the guy and he looks at you questioningly. “No orange?” You ask. Normally most people drink it with an orange.

He looks down at his drink and nods. “Didn’t feel like an orange kinda night.”

“I guess that’s fair.” You shrug and continue to sip on your drink.

“What about you, what are you drinking?”

You smile and nod your head. “Uh, sprite, ha.” The man chuckles.

He has a wonderful smile, you note, and his physique is quite impressive. “What are ya doin’ here so early? Big fan?”

“Um, my roommate told me to be here at midnight, so I like to be punctual.” You shrug

He nods in understanding and begins to take a seat next to you. “What’s yer name?”

You tell him. “You can just call me Sweetie. What about you?”

His eyes widen and you don’t know what you did wrong. “So, you came here, just for yer roommate, not cause you know the band that’s playin’ tonight?”

You shake your head. “I know Taro, and I just started listening to a few of the The Jackals’s songs today.”

He sets his beer down on the table and crosses his arms. “And which of their songs are yer favorite right now?”

You hum and think for a bit. “I think it’s Hardest to Love. I liked the openness of it. How he understands that he’s not easy to handle, but that he did love the person and he wishes he could have fixed it if only he knew how. I think it’s a pretty message and relatable. Shit happens, and you never know how to handle every situation.”

At the time you didn’t hear it, but he lets out a breath and then just smiles at you. “Wow, you really analyze songs a lot.”

You smile sheepishly and drink your soda. “I really like music, so I’m never opposed to listening to new artists.”

“That’s good to know.” He finishes the last of his beer and gets up. “I gotta run, but you enjoy the show.” You wave back about to ask for his name, but he’s already gone.

Not long after, Mila, Kuroo and Kenma show up. The four of you make your way to the front, and since you were there early, everything worked out. “Gahh I’m so excited Sweetie!”

“Me too! I’m so excited for Taro.” You and Kuroo fist bump and wait impatiently.

An MC comes out on stage to introduce. “How are all you gorgeous people doin’ tonight.” There’s a bunch of woo’s and yea’s coming from the crowd. “I won’t take up too much of your time, so first up we got Taro-” the crowd screams, you and Kuroo are among them. “Alright settle down, he’s performing four songs for you today. Then The Jackals will come in as your main set.”

Everyone claps and waits for the MC to finish. “Without further ado… make some noise for TARO!”

You and Kuroo are screeching, clapping your hands together. Taro comes out in some chains, a mesh shirt which has everyone going apeshit, sneakers, and a bucket hat. Everyone’s still screaming by the time he gets to the mic. “Alright, shut up you fucks.”

Everyone laughs and a few people scream ‘we love you Taro!’

He laughs into the mic and nods. “Yea I love you guys too. Now let’s get this going, what song are we thinking?”

Your mouth moves before you could even think. “PSYCHO!” You screech, but then get embarrassed after realizing how loud you were.

He laughs again, grabbing the mic off the stand and squats down in front of you. “Fitting, since you’re all a bunch of little psychos.” He rubs the top of your head with his hand and gets up. “Let’s get it.”

You die internally because holy shit, Taro touched you. You don’t have time to bask in it though because his number starts and you and Kuroo need to go crazy for it. He starts, “Yea my AP goin’ psycho…”

Taro’s numbers are to die for and everyone is having a great time. Before you know it, he’s on his last song of the night. “It’s been fun you guys, so let’s end it with Stay.”

You want to cry because that’s all you wanted. When he gets to the chorus, you and Kuroo yell, “but don’t count on me to stay!”

Taro finishes up and you’re sad to see him go. “Thank you Chicago! I’ll miss my hometown. We’ll see each other soon.” He winks at the crowd and you all cheer him off.

The MC comes back as the people behind him change up the set. “Alright, and our main set. Everyone, please welcome in The Jackals!” Mila is jumping and yelling while Kenma is just clapping, but he has this big smile on his face. You go to tie your shoes since someone stepped on your laces and undid them.

When The Jackals come up, the lead singer steps in front of the mic while the other three set up. “Hey everyone, if you don’t know,” you recognize the voice and you stand back up so quickly only to see the lead singer, the man you talked to at the bar looking down at you. “I’m Atsumu, the lead singer, that’s Shoyo on guitar, Kiyoomi on bass, and Kotaro on drums.” You stand unmoving, completely lost. How could you not know. “Now, I know we were gonna open with Starboy, but I’ve been convinced to start with Hardest to Love so enjoy this everyone.”

He smiles in your direction, and this does not go unnoticed by your roommate. “Sweetie, what in the hell happened.”

You stood there, still shocked. “All I did was make fun of his beer.”

Atsumu starts, “You try with me so many times…”

Regardless of anything, Atsumu had a wonderful voice that hit every note you could think of. High, low, whatever, he could do it. You didn’t know, but The Jackals knew he was showing off and just smirked to themselves.

Once he finishes he moves on. “Did you guys like that?” The crowd howls at him making him smile and chuckle. “We’ve got 8 more songs, let’s make this count, yea?” Everyone is excited and pumped up.

You try to enjoy the songs, but how can you when he’s looking at you so intensely. You decide to ignore it and have a fun time with your friends.

The last song comes up and it’s Cough Syrup, you haven’t listened to it so you decided to pay attention to the lyrics. It’s a great song, it helps slow down the fast tempo everyone was cheering at and is a great closing number. You make eye contact with Atsumu, a blush appears on your face but you refuse to look away.

Still, it doesn’t help that he’s looking at you with a grin on his face singing into the microphone. You can’t help it that he looks so incredibly attractive while doing it. It’s not your fault.

The music slows and Atsumu sings the last line, “One more spoon of cough syrup, now woah.” Everyone’s cheering and clapping while the band all gets on one knee and thanks everyone.

“Thank you Chicago, yer always my best crowd. Just tell Taro that yer all my hometown.” The crowd laughs and claps to the singer, he pushes his hair back with a hand, sweat prominent on his features. “Love ya.”

“We love you!” Everyone yells back at him. He smiles and waves goodbye, then everyone goes on their own way.

Atsumu is still there looking at you, he mouths to you ‘come backstage with your friends.’ You nod, unable to do anything else. “Hey guys, follow me.” They all do without question.

When you get to their room, there’s a man in front of the door. “You are?” He asks.

“Um, I’m y/n, Atsumu said to come back here.” He nods and opens the door for you. It’s all the band members sitting on the couch and Taro, except for Kiyoomi who’s in the shower.

“Sweetie! Hi.” He kisses the side of your cheek to welcome you and you’re taken aback, but don’t say anything of it. “Yer all her friends?”

Mila is frozen, her dreams coming true all at once. “Mila.” She says pointing to her self. The Jackals and Taro chuckle at her while Atsumu shakes Kuroo’s and Kenma’s hands.

“It’s nice to meet you all.” You say nodding your head in their direction.

Suna gets up and rubs your head. “You’re the psycho girl.”

“What?” Atsumu asks confused and your cheeks flush bright red.

“She asked me to play Psycho really loud. Good choice by the way.” You thank him for his music and Kuroo begins to engage in conversation with him.

Mila and Kenma somehow get talking to Shoyo and Kotaro in the meantime. “Cat got yer tongue?” Atsumu teases.

You roll your eyes, your previous nervousness fleeing, it’s just something about him. “Please, I was just feeling nervous.”

He chuckles at you. “Did ya like the show?”

“Yea, Taro was great, your voice broke a couple times though.” You tease back.

“What, there’s no way-” your laugh cuts him off and he pouts. “Not funny.”

You smile and pat his shoulder. “I think you did great, really. I liked all of the songs.” You’re staring at each other for too long and there’s just something there that you can’t deny.

He leans in to whisper in your ear, sending chills down your spine. “Would ya like to come over to my apartment?” You don’t want to get too attached to a singer, but you wouldn’t be opposed to it either. A night with him and maybe a little more doesn’t seem like a bad idea at all.

“Alright.” You smile.

Despite common stereotypes, Atsumu was a gentleman above all else. He made sure you were comfortable, gave your roommate his address in case she wanted to go check on you, and asked if you were alright all the time.

“If I wasn’t ok, I would’ve kicked you and ran away with your car.” He chuckles and continues to change the gear on his car. “What’s it’s name again.”

He revs the engine. “Aran.”

“Ohh, where’d you get that name from?” You ask.

Atsumu shifts in his seat a bit and comes to a stop at a red light. “My brother and I used to live in a pretty bad neighborhood, and Aran was our friend. He was older than us so he and another guy named Shin were like family to us along with Rintaro.” He sighs and puts the car into gear to drive. “Anyway, when we were 17 Aran joined the army to help support his family, but he ended up in a crossfire and passed away.”

There was a lump in your throat and you weren’t sure what to say. “I’m glad I got to meet one Aran then.”

You thought he was going to stare you down but he just laughed. “Me, too. He was awesome.”

“I didn’t really live in the greatest place either, lots of kids I knew went to join the army, but I never heard if they were ok.” You fiddle with your hands a bit.

He asks, “Where did you live?”

“I grew up in the orphanage not too far from the venue you were at. I met all my friends there. They kind of kick you out as soon as you’re 16.” You shrug.

“Damn.” Atsumu says. “What’ve you been doin’ since then.”

“Work to live?” The two of you chuckle. “I work at a strip club in the heart of Chicago, I’m a waitress. I can’t dance for shit.”

He laughs at you and you just smile. “That’s good, let me know where and I’ll visit ya sometime.”

“I’m honored that you would pay me such a visit.” You push his shoulder and the two of you laugh together in the car.

You’re about to go down a steep hill but stop at the top. “My apartment is just down there.” He points all the way at the bottom. “We’re gunning it down.”

“Atsumu no-”

“Atsumu yes.” He winks and before you can say anything, you’re rolling down the hill grabbing onto Atsumu’s arm for dear life, eyes locked on the downhill road. You’re yelling and Atsumu is just laughing at you before coming to a hard stop at his place. “We made it.”

You look at him, arms shaking. “I’m gonna kill you.”

He smiles and kisses your cheek. “Chin up, let’s go eat, I’m starvin’.” The small kiss takes you aback, but you hop out of the car and follow him. He holds out his hand and you take it. He leads you up the stairs and into his apartment. “Sorry it’s kinda a mess.” He scratches the back of his head.

There’s papers all over and instruments all over the place, even a picture of him and- “Did you photo shop that?” It was a picture of him and someone who looked just like him on a volleyball court with seven other people

He looks to the picture you point at and laughs. “No, that’s my brother, we’re twins.”

“I feel bad for your mom, you guys must’ve been a handful.” You smile.

Atsumu nods, placing pizza into the microwave, a small smile spreading on his face. “She was great though, never gave up on us.” He looks up and his face drops. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking-”

You hold up a hand and shake your head. “Don’t worry about it, I know you didn’t mean anything by it. Single parents are badass.”

He agrees. “D’ya know anything about yer ma?”

You shake your head. “No, I don’t even know if I want to, you know? It’s been so long, knowing who she is now would just make me so angry.”

The microwave dings and he goes to grab the pizza. “Follow me.” He leads you up yet another flight of stairs, but once you get to a door, the cool Chicago breeze welcomes you and you find yourselves on the attic.

You take in the beautiful view that surrounds you. The lights overwhelmingly yellow and orange, cars driving by, trains, busses, and the beautiful sky, that due to the pollution, only the moon was visible. There were a few stars here and there, ones that never quit. “This is everything. I can’t go back home now that I’ve seen this.”

“Then don’t.” Atsumu shrugs taking a bite of his pizza, offering you a slice. You decline.

You and him sit across from each other on these lawn chairs looking at the sky. When he finishes his slice you turn to him. “Why did you want me to come with you.”

“The truth?” He asks. You nod. “I was really just lookin’ for a nice night, but after talkin’ to ya, I think it’d be safe to say I’m glad I met ya.” Why is it that you’ve only just met and he causes your heart to flutter like this. This was cosmic, you felt it in your bones, and whether or not Atsumu wanted to admit it, he knew that too. Knew that you would be someone special, someone he wouldn’t let himself have, but he ignored all that. “Why did you accept?”

You shrug. “Random hookup didn’t seem like a bad idea. I got swept away by your rocker singer persona or whatever.” He smiles at you and grabs a hold of your hand. You don’t want to ask if he’s looking for a relationship, because you’re scared of the answer. You want him to keep holding your hand just as he is. “Why did you become a singer?”

“It was actually my second dream.” You sit up and turn to face him. “I wanted to become a pro-volleyball player, but our school wasn’t well equipped with training to even get past the first round in a tournament. I didn’t want to burden my ma.”

“For what it’s worth, I think, maybe in another life, you’re doing just that.” He chuckles and squeezes your hand. “Is your dad not in the picture?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. He took off after our fourth birthday. He was shit dad for the time he was there anyway, so I’d like to say we were better off without him.” Atsumu pulls out his phone and plays a song on it. You haven’t heard it before, but you recognize his voice through the speakers. “Dance with me?”

You get up and place your hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand while he wraps his other one securely around your waist. “Which one of your songs is this?”

“Slow Dancing in the Dark. Bokuto wrote it, his boyfriend and him were really goin’ through it at the time.” The two of you dance around the roof. He places you on the ledge and lets you jump onto him as he spins you in his arms.

You laugh and sway with him again. “You’re quite the charmer. You do this with a lot of girls?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, most of them don’t talk to me as much as you have.” He smiles.

“I like how open you are.” You blurt out, but it’s already out there. “I dunno, it just makes other people more comfortable to be real with you.”

“I never got anything from being a liar. I guess that’s just how I am. How do you get me to talk so much Sweetie? You haven’t talked much about yerself.”

“You haven’t asked.” You teased and he places you on his lap as you sit back down.

“What’s yer dream Sweetie?” He smiles and keeps you guys moving.

You hum and just wonder if maybe it was too deep to share, but he’s been so honest with you, you feel like you could tell him. “To have a family of my own. To never abandon them and make sure they know I love them with all my heart.”

“That’s a pretty dream.” You smile and rest your head on his shoulder, you two dance till the music stops.

You wake up the next morning next to Atsumu on his bed. Memories from the night hit you like a bus and you want to squeal. He was sweet all the way through. You try to gather your thoughts but it was all scrambled with the fact that you slept with the lead singer of a band. You gotta cross that off a list somewhere.

Atsumu moves and he wakes up, looking at you holding the sheets up to your chest. “Mornin’.” He greets and you mutter a small hi as you shrink into the bed. “Ah, don’t be shy now. I’m gonna go make breakfast.”

You pull a shirt of his and some boxers out to wear and you make your way to the kitchen. He sees you come in and smiles while turning his head to the side. “I hope you don’t mind.” You refer to the stolen clothes.

He waves you off and continues to cook up some wonderful breakfast. “How d’ya like yer eggs?”

“Scrambled please.” He smiles cooking that right up. “How’d you become such a great cook.”

“My brother owns a restaurant.”

You nod. “Yea, I think he’d be disappointed if you didn’t know how to cook.” The two of you chuckle together and he places the egg on your plate.

“Any plans today?”

You think for a moment before groaning. “Yea, Mila and I work from 6pm to 1am today.”

Atsumu perks his head up and smiles. “I’ll bring the guys then, visit you on the job.”

You laugh and agree. “Ok, I’ll see you there then.”

The two of you eat breakfast together before he drops you off at your house, still in his clothes. “See ya later tonight.” He winks, and all you can do is smile and wave as he drives off. Before you can turn back around, Mila pulls you inside and up the stairs.

She sits you down on the couch and stares at you. “Alright, explain.”

“Well, he was really nice, we danced, talked and… well you know, then he made me breakfast and drove me back here, oh and he’s coming to our job later with his friends.” You tell.

Her mouth is stuck wide open, unable to move. “Oh my- how do you do that. Well now I’m nervous to go to work. I think he likes you y/n.”

“I don’t think that’s what he’s looking for Mila.” You get up and head to your room.

She laughs and shakes her head. “Well someone better tell him you don’t dance and be all sweet to your friends with benefits.”

“I don’t think that’s exactly what this is either.” You say.

“Well then it’s a big fat fucking ‘it’s complicated’.” She throws her hands up mumbling to herself about what to wear.

You’d hate to admit it, but you think that’s exactly what this is.

Nevertheless you got ready for your day with Mila. It wasn’t too crowded yet, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t antsy for Atsumu and the rest of them to show up. Mila picked up on it really quick.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the door looking at it like that.” She quips

Your shoulders sag a little. “Am I that obvious?” You ask her.

“Only to me, Sweetie.” She pinches your cheeks before carrying her tray to her table.

Somewhere during your conversation a new table was sat, and when you went to wait on them you locked eyes with a familiar blonde. Your whole body relaxed, and Atsumu turned to you, a warmth spread throughout his body. Whatever was happening between the two of you was happening fast, and even though Atsumu knew he couldn’t give you more, he was selfish and wanted to have you if not just for another day.

He smiles charmingly at you when you get to the table. “Hello boys.”

“Hi Sweetie,” they all wave to you: Kotaro, Shoyo, and Kiyoomi. Atsumu grabs your hand and kisses it looking up at you. He was taking in the lovely corset you had on with the fishnets.

You blushed deeply, but it was hidden by the bright and colorful lights in the club. “What can I do for you boys?” They give you their orders which you take diligently to the bar.

“See, they got here.” Mila snickers and waves at them from behind the bar. “Let me help you with the drinks.”

The two of you finish them quickly and walk over to drop them on the table. Before you’re able to say anything you feel a quick slap on your ass. Your whole body freezes up and you turn to see a very drunk customer. “No touching,” you seethe.

Mila turns as well, standing next to you as help. “Mmm no, I don’t think that’s what you should say.” The guy walks right up to you and grabs your arm. Immediately another arm shoots out to grab his.

“Hey,” Atsumu says cooly grinning with mal intent. “Why don’t you let go of her arm yea?”

The guy is displeased and raises an arm to which Atsumu’s friends respond quickly by getting up, but he was stopped by Earl, one of the security workers. “Are you alright Sweetie and Mila?”

Mila nods. “Yea this guy needs to go, he’s touching.” She huffs and Earl nods.

“Don’t worry he’ll be gone soon.” Earl disappears with the man out the door and you let out a breath.

“Are you okay?” Atsumu asks, his jaw tight.

You nod breathing in. “Yea, it comes with the job. Earl and Riley are really good at kicking them out if need be.” You smile. “Sit down and relax, don’t worry too much about me.”

“Well that’s not possible.” Atsumu murmurs, but you are already halfway back to the bar with Mila.

“You’re sick Atsumu.” Shoyo says.

Atsumu turns to his bandmate with a wary look. “Huh?”

Kotaro nods in agreement with the guitarist. “You got it bad Atsumu.”

“She’s good. Really good.” Shoyo adds again.

He ignores them and changes the subject. Kiyoomi and the rest of them understand he’s deflecting because he likes you too, but he can’t be with you. He won’t let himself be with you, and that’s exactly what they want him to see, that he can.

Regardless of his distaste for their probing, Atsumu gets his notepad out and scribbles down some lyrics. “You really brought that with you?” Kiyoomi asks pointedly.

Atsumu rolls his eyes at his friend. “I bring it everywhere. I don’t know why you’re surprised. The boys begin conversing about their next upcoming show but Atsumu is watching you. He watches you laugh with Mila and charm the customers that come up to you.

He hasn’t felt this sense of comfort in a long time, but watching you is inspiring in itself. He nudges Bokuto to get his attention. “What’s up?”

“Can you help me with this? I think it’s good.” He refers back to the notepad where he has the title of the song written.

Bokuto hums looking over the lyrics. “Locked Out of Heaven? Sounds good.” He doesn’t comment and how he talks so vividly about you. Even though he hasn’t said it, Bokuto knows. “Instead of cause you got me feelin like to cause you make me feel like, good?”

The two of them fix up some of the wording in the song meanwhile Shoyo called over one of the girls to dance for Kiyoomi. Kiyoomi is glaring at Hinata, but doesn’t shoo the girl away, he’s a gentlemen of course.

Eventually your shifts are up and you come back out wearing some sweats and a hoodie. “All done.” You smile.

Atsumu looks at you with wonder as he takes in your clothes. “No corset? I think I like a girl in uniform.”

“I’m off the clock, mister.” You say teasingly before walking ahead of him and the others following. “What do you want to do?”

He hums stepping closer to you. “Do you like Just Dance?”

Over the course of the next month or so you and Atsumu grew much closer and he released Locked Out of Heaven. While you had a sneaking suspicion it was about you, you never said anything.

You, Mila, Kuroo, and Kenma still attended all of their concerts and the crowds kept getting bigger with each passing show. Atsumu lit up the stage, he was a performer, a great one and he captured everyone’s attention. You really couldn’t help but look at him with stars in your eyes every time.

However, you were getting tired of not understanding where the two of you stood. It frightened you how much you liked Atsumu, how much you could envision him in your future. It scared you not knowing if he thought of you like you thought of him.

That’s why you were standing outside his apartment and knocking on the door. He answered quickly and leaned on the door frame. “Hi Sweetie,” he kissed your cheek letting you in. “This is a nice surprise.”

When he closes the door you mumble a hello, but your nerves are at an all time high. He notices something is up and asks, but he already doesn’t like this feeling. To him, the point of not being in a relationship was to not feel this way. Like he was close to fighting with you and losing. “I just... I have a question.” You say looking up at him. “What am I... to you? Do you think about me?”

“I think about you a lot.” He admits, whether he wanted to or not. “What’s going on?”

“It’s just that I think about you all the time. I want you, all the time. More so, I just want to know that you’re with me, that you want me the same way I want you.” Atsumu recoils back from your admission like you shot him.

He shakes his head. “I’m confused.”

You throw your hands up a little frustrated. “I want you Atsumu. In every single way possible. I want your clothes at my apartment, I want to keep an extra toothbrush here. I want to go on dates with just you and me not in the house, I just want to hold your hand and I want to be together... officially together. I love-” You can barely get it out, but when you look at Atsumu’s face the words die on your lips. “What?”

“No.” He says sternly. “I never- when did you ever get the idea that that’s what this was?”

Your chest hurts in the worst possible way. This is not the way you expected this to turn out. “You can’t look at me the way you do and not expect me to think you love me too.”

Atsumu runs a hand through his hair and looks equally as upset as you are right now. “No you’re completely off the mark. This- this is not what that is. You need to get your delusions in check.”

You scoff getting angrier as the seconds pass. “It’s not delusions when even your friends say the same thing.”

His head shoots up at you. “What the fuck did they say to make you think that?”

“That they’ve never seen you happier, that you seem lighter and like you’re finally able to let someone love you instead of thinking you can’t.” You spit out at him.

“Well they fucking lied to you.” He grits.

You shake your head. “You’re insane Atsumu. I know you love me too. Why is it such a fucking problem for you to admit that?”

“Because it’s not fucking true, Sweetie. I don’t know how you deluded yourself into that-”

“Don’t call me fucking crazy, I’m not fucking crazy.” You stand up from the couch and walk over to him. “You can’t touch me the way you do and look at me like you do and say you don’t care about me. I won’t let you lie straight to my fucking face.”

“I don’t want a relationship, I don’t want this. I don’t want the expectations that come with this.”

It grabs your attention as you laugh humorlessly. “Yea Atsumu, I expect you to love me fucking back, that’s so much to ask for though with you isn’t it.”

He buries his hands in his hair ruffling it. “This is exactly what I’m talkin’ about! I don’t want this fighting, we’re not even together, shit. We’re not together!”

“I think I understand that very well. Why won’t you let me love you Tsum?” You whisper.

“Because I don’t fucking want it, I don’t want you, I don’t want an us, I’ve made myself pretty fucking clear.”

“Loud and clear. Especially when I’ve just admitted that I love you and you throw shit in my face.” You retort.

He sighs, “Shut up Sweetie, please.”

“The day I do is the day I stop caring about you, Atsumu.” He’s frustrated because he doesn’t know how to explain this to you and he doesn’t want to.

“Just go. Just fucking leave.”

“I’m not leaving this goddamn apartment until you tell me you don’t love me!” You say, tired and desperate. “Do you love me Atsumu?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t wantcha to love me.”

You recoil and cross your arms. “But do you love me, please? I don't think that’s much to ask.”

He doesn’t have it in him to say it, but he cannot stand you to be here a second longer. “News flash, Sweetie. It’s not that hard to not fall in love with you. You should have learned that by now.” He went real low, even knows it from the way your face falls and you lose the fight you had in you. His chest tightens from the look you give him. “The door is right fuckin’ there. I didn’t think you were so dense, fuck!”

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that!” You yell back. “All I wanted Atsumu-” you choke on a sob. “All I really wanted, was to know that someone fucking loved me for once.” You say as a whisper. “And that-” you sniffle, wiping your tears, “that you knew loving you isn’t a chore, it was a goddamn fairy tale. Even now. Even as you push me away and tell me you hate me, I still love you.” You leave, deciding that Atsumu isn’t hard to love at all, but he makes it hard to stay.

When the door shuts and he can no longer hear your footsteps, Atsumu throws the remote control at his wall. “Fuck!”

You don’t hear from him since then, and Mila had her work cut out for her. Knowing that the singer from her favorite band did this to her best friend is something she wouldn’t stand for.

She blocked all of their numbers from both of your phones. Even though the other boys didn’t do anything she had to be extra sure he had no way of contacting you. Kuroo and Kenma were let in on the whole thing too.

As you nursed your broken heart Mila held onto you as you tried to explain what he said, and that really solidified her hatred for the man. “That is not true Sweetie. I’ll love you till the day I die.” She kissed the top of your head as you cried yourself to sleep.

Kuroo and Kenma visited too and she let them in on what happened. “Why would he-”

“I have no idea. I think he just wanted to hurt her, because I don’t believe for one second that he wasn’t in love with her.” The three of them nod in agreement as they witnessed Atsumu with you first hand. “He’s just a fucking idiot.”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Kiyoomi chimes in after listening to Atsumu’s rant about what happened with you weeks ago. They all asked where you had went, and with enough probing they got it out of him.

Atsumu looks shocked. “She’s delusional.”

Bokuto shakes his head. “She would be if she wasn’t right. She’s right, Atsumu and in your heart of hearts I know you know that. I know you know that you’re also in love with her.”

The singer groans. “Not you guys too.”

“I think you’re just in denial because then you would have to face the fact that you treated her disgustingly awful.” Kiyoomi says. “For some unknowing reason she fell in love with you. I think this is where your luck runs out Atsumu, because you’re never going to meet someone like that again.”

All of them are shocked at how much Kiyoomi was saying all at once. He normally was quiet, but you and the bassist developed a nice friendship, which was saying a lot for Sakusa.

“He’s not wrong Atsumu.” Hinata breaks the silence. “The quicker you realize that, then the faster you can beg for her forgiveness, because I don’t think you’ll get her back with anything less.”

The boys get up to set up their instruments leaving Atsumu in their dressing room to wonder how he got here in the first place. He felt so many things all at once and he turned to his notepad, because he couldn’t express himself in any other way.

He performed with group and charismatic as he may be, they noticed how off he was. At one point during the show he slipped up the lyrics to one of the songs. “Shit...” he laughs it off. “Maybe I’m just a little fucked up guys I’m sorry.” The crowd cheers him on regardless, but he finds himself looking for your face. A glimpse of it somewhere, and the disappointment burns him in a way he has never experienced.

Once the set finishes he goes back to his notepad, ignoring the stares his friends give him. He looks at Bokuto with a knowing look. The drummer sits down and pats his back. “What do you need help with?”

The two of them get to writing together, although it was mostly Atsumu’s words Bokuto helped clean it up. Atsumu was always good at understanding his emotions when they were on a piece of paper, but how could he go after what he really wanted. Every relationship he ever had crashed and burned, just like yours did and it didn’t even have a label on it.

But that was his mistake.

You were never just going to be another girl to him. He loved you more than he cared to admit. So much that it ached. So much that he couldn’t bear how fast his heart beat around you and he had to burn you too. He was most definitely the problem.

You just wanted an unconditional love, and he did love you, but could he love you the way you deserved? Was it fair that he decided these things for you? Probably not.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to get you to meet with him. After what he said he wouldn’t want to either, but he picked up his phone and tried to call. “The number you’re trying to reach...” Yea. He should’ve expected that one.

He tried Mila’s and the same thing happened. The same thing would happen with your other friends’ numbers. “Shit.” He clicks his tongue but then turns his attention to Kiyoomi. “Hey, Omi-”

“Don’t even try.” He said tuning his bass not even looking up. “She’s blocked all of us, all of them did. Not that I really blame her.”

Atsumu nods, but decides this is just a little bump in the road. He needs to plan everything anyway, it would be silly to ask for you back without one. He needed to plan.

Over the next few days he booked a venue, the same one you met at. He donated what he could to the orphanage you grew up in. In the hopes that the children live a little better than you did. He doesn’t really plan on telling you that one.

It was difficult for him, the band was in the middle of a life changing contract, but his priorities were set for the first time in his life. He pleads his bandmates to help him, and they accept because you deserve to have a choice on whether or not you get to be with the person you love.

He goes to the strip that you work out and hopes to run into you, but he’s met with Mila, a more formidable opponent. She looks up with a smile to greet the new customer, but when she sees him her face drops. “You’ve got about ten seconds to get out before I ask Riley to do it.”

“I just need two minutes.” He asks.

“You don’t deserve any.” She cleans the glasses in front of her not looking at it. “I mean it.”

Atsumu nods. “I know. I know I don’t, but listen to me and if you don’t want to after that then I’ll leave.”

She looks skeptical but relents. You deserve the choice to be with him or not. Not that she believes he deserves it. “Two minutes. Starting now.”

“I didn’t mean it.” He says sheepishly. “Any of it and if I could take it back I would. I-” He huffs out a breath, wishing he could talk to you. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt the way I did with her, and I know that she deserved more than I could offer, but I do want her.” His fists clench trying to get out the right words. “I want her more than I have wanted anything, and it scared me and I fucked up I know, but I- well... I love her. Whether I deserve to or not I do. And by some miracle she loves me too... or did.”

Atsumu shakes his head to get back on track, Mila’s full attention is on him as he slips her a flyer and four tickets. “If you could get her to come to this show... I’d owe you everything, regardless of what happens I just don’t want to lie to her anymore.”

Mila peaks at it and watches him leave as he doesn’t wait for her answer. “Fuck.” She mutters. “I hate being a good fucking person.” She snatches the tickets and puts them in her bag.

When she gets home you’re cleaning the house again, something you’ve been doing to keep your mind busy. Mila sets down the take out as she comes to sit on the couch.

“Sweetie guess what.” You pick your head up to look at her. “Taro is coming to town again.”

Your shoulders slump a little and you shrug. “I don’t know, I don’t really want to go.”

“Pleaseeeeee.” She whines. “Kuroo bought us all tickets, he’s the main event. Some randos are opening for him it’ll be fun I promise.” You don’t really know how fun it would be to go back to the place that reminds you of him entirely.

“I’m just not sure it would be good for me.” You say lowly.

Her heart breaks for you, but she is hard to deter. “I promise just this once, if you don’t like being there within the first hour we can go home. Promise.”

In the end, you end up agreeing and Mila fills the boys in on the plan. When Friday hits you all get ready at your apartment Kuroo and Kenma waiting with anticipation.

“You look great Sweetie.” Kuroo coos teasingly and your face heats up.

“I will kill you.” You joke.

Kenma looks up questioningly. “Doubtful.” It earns a small laugh from you which brings a smile to his face.

The four of you make your way to the venue and when you recognize the building of your old home you twitch in discomfort. You don’t voice it though, agreeing to stick it out the hour. Mila is in front and hands the bouncer your tickets while you walk ahead.

It is decently packed, but you wonder why he chose a small venue again with the publicity he has gotten over the month.

“I’m sorry Sweetie, but I’m also not sorry.” Mila smiles, and before you can ask her what she means the lights turn off and you can’t see. Your heart rate picks up, but it slows when the lights of the stage turn on, but the calm is short lived when you see him and the rest of the band on the stage.

“Hi everyone.” Atsumu waves and tries to find you in the crowd. “Now, I’ve recently written a new song yea? It’s the last one of the night.” The crowd howls with excitement and Atsumu loves the thrill it gives him, but he’s still just looking for you, he made sure you would get here for the last one. “My brothers obviously helped me produce it. It explains what words couldn’t, and I wish I was better at expressin’ myself than I actually am. I’m pretty shit at it.” He chuckles into the mic, his voice sending a chill down your spine when his eyes meet yours. “This is Leave Before You Love Me, everyone.”

Your heart is beating so fast that you barely paid attention to the first verse, but the chorus hits you like a truck and reminds you of your first meetings with Atsumu.

'Cause my wheels are rolling Ain't taking my foot off the gas And it only took the one night To see the end of the line Staring deep in your eyes, eyes

You remember when he sent it down the hill near his apartment. How you held onto him and regardless of how nervous you were you felt safe as long as he was there.

Dancing on the edge, 'bout to take it too far It's messing with my head, how I mess with your heart If you wake up in your bed, alone in the dark I'm sorry, gotta leave before you love me

The rest of the song plays out and you wrap your arms around yourself for some sense of comfort. Your friends notice it and huddle around you to try to ease the listen.

When the final chorus plays theres cheers all around you, and you can’t seem to move from your spot even as Atsumu smiles at you and gestures for you. Mila grabs your hand and you turn to her. “If you want we can leave right now and never come back.”

You shake your head. “No... I want- I want to know what he has to say.”

She nods and leads you to the back. The rest of the band greets you while you can barely mutter a hello. They all leave you with him, Mila squeezes your hand before she also heads out.

Atsumu had a whole bunch he wanted to say, but he wasn’t so sure any of it did justice to you. He slowly walks up to you and places his hands gently on your face to have you look at him. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. I’m so sorry.”

“You were so mean.” You whisper.

He nods. “I know. I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I know that doesn’t make it better, but that’s the truth.” He sighs as he runs a hand through your hair. “I just thought I shouldn’t lie to you anymore. I want you. More than I ever that I could and that was so fucking scary. But you didn’t deserve that at all. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I wasn’t so terrible all the time-”

You shake your head. “You’re not terrible Atsumu, just delusional, to think that you don’t care about me.”

“I love you.” Your throat closes up and you’re not sure what to say after that. “I think I’ve loved you from the moment I’ve met you. You’re everything, Sweetie. Everything I don’t deserve and everything I shouldn’t have.” He places his forehead against yours. “But it wasn’t fair of me to not give you a choice, because you should have one and I took that from you.”

“I’m always going to choose you, Atsumu.” Fresh tears make their way to your eyes as you take in a shaky breath. “But everything isn’t going to magically be better just because you’ve realized this. What if we get into a disagreement and you blow up on me. I can’t survive it again.”

He nods understanding your concern. “I’ve been going to therapy.” Your head shoots up almost knocking his nose. “I know, long overdue. It’s easy to tell myself you should be with someone better, but I want to try to be that for you. To be someone deserving of your kindness,” he kisses your cheek. “Deserving of your love. Although I don’t think I ever will, I want to get as close as I can.”

You laugh at his statement. “You were always enough for me, Atsumu, but I’m glad you’re getting help.” You take a deep breath before going on. “It’s not always going to be easy.”

“I know.”

“I might get frustrated with you.”

“I know.”

“You might get frustrated with me.”

“I know.”

“But I think as long as we’re honest and truly love each other...” You trail off. “I think we could make it.”

“I’ll always pick you. There is no other choice for me.”

You smile brushing your lips against his, feeling relaxed in his hold. “We go slow this time.”

“Whatever you want. We’ll do. I just want to be able to hold you.”

“It was a great song.” You add.

He nods kissing your forehead. “It was about a great person. That and Locked Out of Heaven.”

You laugh under your breath. “I knew it.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes playfully looking down at you. “Assume from this day forward that every song, every word, every thought, and every breath I breathe is about you.”

You can’t top that so you quietly retreat into his arms, safe and loved. “I want lots of kids.”

“We’ll have all the kids you want. I’ll have fun trying.”

The two of you laugh together before taking a moment to join your friends again who by the looks of it are happy for you. “Don’t mess up this time Atsumu.” Kiyoomi warns.

You walk up to the bassist and give him a hug, you do this with all of them. “I missed you guys.”

You all walk out together and you get into Atsumu’s car so he could take you back to his apartment. It’s quiet on the ride back but he holds your hand the entire time.

When you get there he immediately takes you to the roof. “Bo and I made this new song not too long ago. It’s called Die for You.”

He plays the song on his speaker and takes a hold of your hand dancing with you like he did that very first night. “You always have beautiful penmanship.”

He smiles shyly. “Trying to get that into actual words.”

“I believe in you.” You rest your head on his shoulder and sway with him.

You’re not sure how long you stay there dancing for, but you really wouldn’t have minded staying till the morning, and Atsumu wouldn’t have either.

Atsumu is not hard to love. Not in the slightest, and he’s starting to believe that for the first time in a long time.

A/N: I hope this isn’t too bad LMAO

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encantowishes · 2 years ago

Text

Hello! I've been away for a while, but I didn't forget about Encanto Big Bang! Edit: Find the rest of @hectic-hector's illustrations of the pivotal bucket scene here.

Bruno reluctantly lifted the bucket from his head, peering at the activity around him. "You sure about this?" he asked Félix.

His cuñado clapped him on the shoulder, oblivious to the little stagger that followed. "Look at them. Everybody's focused on their own jobs. Nobody's going to pay you any mind."

Bruno fidgeted with the bucket, unsure.

Félix’s eyes fell on the turning bucket. "Okay, two things, amigo. One, you simply can't walk around safely with that thing on your head. Two, you'll draw less attention without it."

Bruno sighed. He couldn't argue with that. "I could take it with me, though. For … luck."

"Of course."

Bruno tossed some salt over his shoulder, slipped the bucket handle over his wrist, and grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow. Drawing a deep breath, he muttered "I can do this" a few times as he moved forward.

The wheelbarrow contained rubble and unsalvageable belongings that had been plucked from the wreckage of Casita. It needed to be moved from the back of the grounds to the front, where a donkey-drawn cart was waiting to carry it away. An easy enough task, even for a middle-aged man who'd spent the last decade laboring mainly to prevent his own discovery. Bruno felt it was time he pitched in, since everybody else was working so hard, and he'd spent the last couple days hiding behind the remains of a wall. (Though he had mixed the spackle.)

The problem lay in the fact that he had to run a gauntlet of other people to bring the wheelbarrow to its destination. People who had blamed their misfortunes on his prophecies. People who had jeered at him and called him "brujo," as though he'd never heard that pun before. People who had thrown guava churros at him, staining his favorite ruana, and wasting perfectly good churros.

Don’t draw attention to yourself. Just act normal. Or as normal as possible. That’s why it’s called “acting.”

“Omigosh it’s him!”

“The guy from the mural?!”

“Isn’t he supposed to be seven feet tall? My abuela’s taller than him.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t look scary. Just tired.”

Bruno tried to focus on the wheelbarrow and ignore the chatter of little voices behind him, until they turned into a trio of little faces in front of him.

“You’re him, right?” asked a little girl with a long black braid and a broad smile.

“‘Him’ who?”

“THE MYSTERIOUS MISSING MADRIGAL!” shouted a little boy who was plainly over-caffeinated.

Bruno lowered the wheelbarrow and folded his arms. Only it took him two tries, because he’d forgotten about the bucket still hanging from his wrist. But once he’d managed it, he imagined he looked at least a little intimidating. “Who’s asking?”

“Us!” the kids chorused.

“Tío Bruno, there you are,” Mirabel said as she sidled up to him. “Good to see you out in the open! I’m supposed to let you know, we’re having lunch with the Guzmáns.”

“Oh, thanks.” Maybe Mirabel could take these kids off --

“Mm-hmm. Gotta run, Isa’s waiting for me.” She waved to the kids and hurried off.

Bruno looked back at the children, who had encroached even closer. And … were there more of them now? Yeah, a boy with wavy hair, and a girl in a straw hat.

Black-Braid Girl pointed at him. “You are the missing Madrigal!” She grinned as though this revelation was the greatest discovery of her life.

“Aren’t you supposed to have green eyes?” asked Hat Girl.

“They are green,” Bruno said, a little too defensively. “Or hazel. Depends on the light.” This was … very weird. Ten years ago, kids this age would have hidden from him, not ganged up to interrogate him. Of course, ten years ago, this crop of kids hadn’t even been born yet.

“No, like spooky glowing green!” Coffee Boy insisted, lifting his hands to the sides of his face and wiggling his fingers with all the kindergarten menace he could muster.

“Do you really see people’s dreams?” piped up Wavy-Hair Boy.

“AND FEAST ON SCREAMS?” Coffee Boy wanted to know.

“No, and -- what? No! Where have you been getting your information?”

“Camilo,” all the kids said together.

Yep, leave it to Camilo to turn Bruno into the local cryptid.

“Look kids, I got work to do. We’ve got a whole house to build.”

“Aww.” They all gave him very sad expressions. Yeah, this just kept getting weirder. They were disappointed he was trying to get away from them?

“I’m not gonna be able to get rid of you kids, am I?”

“Nope!” they chorused.

“Ay. Okay, how about this: If you” -- he pointed to Coffee Boy -- “go get me some coffee, and then everybody helps me with this wheelbarrow, I’ll tell you a story.”

At this, the kids jumped around like popcorn kernels in a hot pan.

Okay, weirder still, but … kind of sweet?

By the time the wheelbarrow was empty, the group had grown by two more boys, one wearing a poncho, and the other a vueltiao hat.

“All right, back we go for more debris.”

“But the story!”

“I can walk and tell a story at the same time. Can you walk and listen?”

Turned out they could. Bruno and his seven small followers passed Pepa, who stared before breaking out into laughter. “Mamá gallina!”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Where were we? Oh, right. So then Jorge says to Hernando: ‘Señor, I hope you weren’t planning on wearing that for dinner.’”

Together, they filled the wheelbarrow with another load.

“Aren’t you going to put anything in your bucket?” asked Two-Braid Girl. Cecilia. Her name was Cecilia. Black-Braid Girl was Alejandra, and Coffee Boy was Juancho. That was probably as many new names as Bruno was going to remember at the moment.

Bruno looked at the bucket, again hanging from his wrist. “Nah.”

“What’s it for, then?” Cof-- Juancho demanded.

“Personal fulfillment.” The sarcasm might be lost on the kids, but it amused Bruno.

“So you’re just going to leave it empty?” asked Hat Girl.

Bruno stared at her for a long moment.

“The next morning, Hernando was awakened by a terrible thunderstorm,” he went on.

As they walked, Bruno got so into his story that he started gesturing, and the kids teamed up to push the wheelbarrow so they could continue walking. He didn’t notice the woman he nearly ran into as they rounded the scaffolding.

It was Mercedes Ozma.

“Bruno Madrigal. I thought you were dead.”

He leaned forward a little, just far enough to rap on one of the wheelbarrow’s wooden handles. “... Yeah, I’ve been getting that a lot.”

“There’s something I need to say to you.”

Bruno took a deep breath. “Look, if it’s about your fish, I’m sorry --”

“It is about the fish! My abuelo raised award-winning goldfish. World-renowned!”

“World-renowned?”

“They were so important to him, that when their village was attacked, he collected as many as he could before my family fled. Only one survived the journey. And when my abuelo passed, the keeping of that fish fell to me. Did you know goldfish can live about thirty years? Mine only made it to nine. And when it died, I felt like I had let my family down.”

“Oh,” was all Bruno could say, though Mercedes’s story seemed oddly relatable.

“Anyway, that’s why I was so upset about it. But it wasn’t right for me to take it out on you, and I’m sorry.”

She held out her hand. Oh, right, he was supposed to shake it. He was still getting used to the whole “human contact” thing again. He accepted the hand, as briefly and as gingerly as seemed polite.

And then there was awkward silence.

“Um, well, glad we could put this behind us?” Bruno offered.

Mercedes nodded curtly. “Good to see you’re not dead.” She carried on hammering whatever it was she was putting together.

So now not only were children flocking to him, but villagers with decades-long grudges were apologizing? At least one, anyway. Maybe the bucket really was lucky.

“Where were we, kids?”

“The hot air balloons were full of pirates!” Alejandra supplied.

“And Jorge almost fell into the Nile River!” Juancho added.

They all continued to work in this manner as Bruno told his story until Julieta came around to collect her brother for lunch.

“Thank you for the story, Señor!” Cecilia called after him. “You’re a good storyteller!”

Julieta chuckled as they walked away. “Did you make some new friends?”

Bruno took a moment before answering. “I’ve spent my life living in a sentient house and seeing the future, but whatever just happened there was also pretty weird.”

“Was it? I seem to remember you telling our friends some pretty enthralling tales when we were kids.”

“Sure, but that was back when I had friends. Back before ‘little and quirky’ turned into ‘old and creepy.’”

Julieta took her brother’s arm as they continued to walk. “A lot of things have changed.”

He mulled this over. She was right. The valley was open to the outside world now. Casita was gone. All the family had been forced to stop hiding their problems, and to open their eyes to each other’s. Mamá was trying -- he could see she was really trying -- to be more open and less demanding. And his long absence, it seemed, had been enough time to change Bruno’s reputation from “menace to be at best tolerated” to “intriguingly odd old man kids willingly approach.” But how long would that last? Because --

“I haven’t changed.”

“You haven’t? Even after ten years in … in your circumstances?” Julieta must’ve been avoiding saying in the walls, just on the other side of my kitchen, where I’ve spent hour after hour thinking you were gone forever.

Or something like that. Bruno hadn’t missed the horror in his sisters’ eyes when they discovered just where he’d been all this time.

He almost said: “After a certain point, one day is pretty much like another.” But something told him that wouldn’t help. So he changed the subject. “Wonder what’s for lunch?”

Clean up and construction continued. Some days were better than others. There were times he needed to wear his bucket and rely on a relative to be the intermediary between himself and a villager. Other times he was able to take the lead in marking out the next section of work.

Being out in the sunshine wasn’t so bad. Working with his hands was meditative. Although sometimes he didn’t meditate so much as start dwelling on things that bothered him. When that happened, he’d find a relative to work alongside and talk to. He was less anxious about the whole “getting reacquainted” thing when it was one on one rather than at big family meals, anyway.

“I heard a bunch of people talking about what might be outside the mountains,” Camilo said, as he and Bruno tiled the new kitchen wall. “And that led to the old folks talking about what they remembered from before the Encanto. Tío Agustín’s parents said in Bogotá there was a kind of show called a cinema. Basically a theater, but instead of a stage, there’s a … big blank space? and the actors are all very big? but they’re not really there? and … well, I didn’t really understand. But I’d like to see one, someday. See what it’s like.”

“Your pá used to make flip books for you, right?”

“Yeah.” Félix wasn’t a great illustrator -- his artistic gifts were more musical -- but he’d doodled dozens of pictures of little guys getting into various stages of predicaments. Many of these were curious accidents, such as a man tripping over a cat and trying to grab a table to catch himself, only to pull off the tablecloth and all the dishes on his way down. Camilo suspected that these doodles were inspired by Agustín. But the point was, if you ran your thumb across the pages so that they quickly flipped past, the little guy looked like he was actually moving.

“Cinema is like flip books. Except instead of drawings, they have a special camera that takes a whole bunch of partly see-through pictures, faster than you can blink. Then they go into a machine that runs all the pictures in front of a light. The pictures wind up on the wall, or the screen or whatever. It’s kinda like shadow puppets -- they look bigger than they really are.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Visions.” Obviously.

“You had a vision about how cinema works?”

“Look, sometimes I see things in visions that are just incidental to what I’m looking for, but then I get curious about them and follow up. Y’know, at some point -- maybe it’s already happened out there -- everybody’s gonna have a box in their house with a window in it, and they’ll use it to see the same kind of shows they have in the cinema. They’ll even be able to see things happening at that very moment somewhere far away.”

“How does that work?”

“That one was a little too complex for me.”

Later, those kids from the other day found Bruno while he was painting a ceiling, and wanted to know more about Hernando and Jorge. He was getting used to kids asking him for stories.

“Are they friends of yours?” he asked Antonio once, since the kids were close to his age.

The boy had hesitated. “Not really. I mean, they’re nice. They always say ‘hi’ to me. But I just …” He turned his attention to the speckled rat in his hands, lightly stroking his forefinger between her ears.

“It’s okay, I understand. Believe me, I do. I was thinking about introducing them to the rats. Think that would go over well?”

“I think so. Can I help?” Kids his age might intimidate him, but a chance to help animals make friends apparently superseded that worry.

“Couldn’t do it without you, kid.”

“Show them Pecosita,” Antonio suggested, holding up the rat. “She’s the calmest.”

The rodent reveal went about as well as could be hoped. Two of the kids excused themselves when they heard what was coming. A third lost his nerve shortly after Pecosita emerged. But nobody screamed or cried. The kids who stayed loved Pecosita. They thanked Bruno for showing her to them.

That night, Bruno curled up on a sofa at the Guzmáns’ house. He and Alma were spending their nights there, while Agustín and Félix’s families had taken the rest of the Madrigals into their homes. It was pretty quiet compared to Casita. The only sound of note was Mariano’s snores from down the hall. Dolores must really like that guy, Bruno mused, if she was prepared to potentially put up with that.

Bruno couldn’t sleep, though his body demanded rest after the day’s toil. He stared at his bucket, sitting on the floor in front of him. Alternately the Luck Bucket, or the Bucket of Personal Fulfillment (empty). And he thought about what Julieta had said, about how so many things had changed. And about all the evidence he’d seen to support that.

“But sooner or later, it’s all gonna fall apart,” he muttered to the bucket. “I’m gonna mess up somehow. I always do. I’ll say the wrong thing, and then I’ll go back to being Bad Luck Bruno the Brujo. The creepy seer.”

Except, no. Because he wasn’t a seer anymore. Couldn’t do it even if he wanted to. He hadn’t felt so much as a tickle of his Gift since Casita collapsed. Now the only thing that made his eyes itch was pollen.

He hadn’t told anyone that he was relieved, though surely no one would have been surprised. Some of his family members were very upset about losing their Gifts. Others seemed to have mixed feelings. Even Pepa missed her weather, at least a little. No rain, no rainbows, after all.

Bruno sat up, since he wasn’t falling asleep, and grabbed the bucket. “Without my Gift, would I have a chance to be something else?” he asked it. “And if I’m not a seer, then what am I?”

Of course, there had always been one thing he’d wanted to do. And given the reception his stories and his rat had gotten among the kids, maybe it was possible.

His mind wandered to the sight of his little rat stage, destroyed in the collapse. Mirabel had warned him not to look, but he had looked. The various cutouts splintered. The stage itself in pieces. All that work, ruined.

“But I can rebuild!” he said, standing. “I will rebuild!” Balancing the bucket on the palm of one hand, he gestured with the other. “Bigger! Better! Brighter! Bolder! Not just for me, not just for the family. I’ll set it up in the plaza where everyone can see. We’ll call it … ‘The Triumphant Return of Madrigal’s Rat Theater!’ How does that sound?”

“Marvelous!”

“Thanks! I --” Wait. Buckets couldn’t talk.

Looking over his shoulder, Bruno saw Mariano smiling his perfect, pearly smile. “Oh, excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I only got up for some water.”

Bruno very much wanted to put the bucket over his head, but he refused to cause his niece any embarrassment by association. At least, no more than he could help. Slowly, he brought the bucket down to his belly and turned toward the taller man.

Mariano’s smile did not fade. “Dolores has told me about your rats, and the wonderful tricks they do. A rat theater sounds amazing! I’d love to see it for myself sometime.”

“Sure, of course. Premium seats. Just, ah, just don’t tell anybody you saw me talking to a bucket, okay?”

“Oh, was it not your prop? Like in Hamlet?”

“Yep. That’s exactly what it was. Like Hamlet, declaiming ‘to be or not to be.’ To a bucket.”

Mariano got his water and went back to his room. Bruno tried again to sleep, but his mind raced with possibilities. As soon as the new house was finished, he’d get to work on building a new rat theater. Maybe someone had a disused dollhouse he could remodel. His telenovela scripts had, sadly, been lost in the wreckage, but the basics of the storylines were still in his head. Besides, there were always new stories to explore.

He could get his sobrinos involved, too. Make it a family bonding experience. The older ones might not be interested, but the younger three for sure. Antonio would want to help train the rats. Mirabel would insist on making the costumes. Camilo … would probably try to stage a coup to wrest away creative control. Eh, there’d be something the kid could do. Special effects, maybe, or choreography.

Choreography? He was letting this idea run a little wild. The rats, though he tended to think of them as very special, were regular rats. There were limits to what they could learn from him. Maybe if Antonio still had his Gift, something like choreography would be possible, but -- ay, poor Antonio. One of the Madrigals who could honestly rejoice in his Gift, and he lost it after only one day.

Because Bruno’s sacrifice, and even Mirabel’s courage, had not been enough to save the magic. And maybe the family as a whole had a lesson to learn from that. But it was hardly fair to Antonio. Bruno saw how it hurt his sobrino, saw the boy watch sadly as birds flew by without stopping to chat, or stare distractedly into the forest. Bruno would take it all on again -- the burden, the pain, the societal rejection -- if it would reunite Antonio with his animal friends. But this was how it was always going to have played out. He’d seen that a decade ago. All he could do for Antonio now was share his affinity for rats.

Speaking of rats, a blunt-nosed little fellow called Chato emerged from the ruana hood, curious about why his human kept shifting around. Bruno cupped the rodent, and, stroking Chato’s spine with his thumb, finally settled down and began to drift off. If nothing else, he’d give Antonio lights and music and performing rats. Rats for all the kids. Rats for everyone. Buckets of rats.

He began jotting down ideas in a new notebook whenever he wasn’t helping with the new house. Including at mealtimes. He wouldn’t let anyone see what he was working on, not even Mirabel. He’d sworn Mariano to secrecy. He would keep it a surprise as long as he could. Finally, a secret he could keep from Dolores. Finally, a secret that was just for fun.

There were so many hands at work on the new house -- and plenty of those were skilled ones -- that it was not many more weeks before the new house was nearly complete. Bruno was not alone in planning a secret surprise -- all the family members save for one were in on another scheme.

Mirabel had worked so hard, organizing and supporting people, sorting out problems (including arguments) that cropped up -- and hefting her share of bricks, to be sure. Whether she saw it or not, she had all her abuela’s best qualities, and her mamá’s, too. One aspect of the work she had not been allowed to see was a little order that had been quietly placed with the metalsmith.

The moment came. Alma stood with Mirabel, evaluating the almost-complete new house. That was the signal. The rest of the family gathered around. Antonio presented Mirabel the shiny new doorknob, engraved with “M” for Madrigal -- and Mirabel. Then the boy very sweetly walked his cousin to the door, just as (Bruno had seen from his hiding place on the roof) she had done for him during his ceremony. The rest of the family gave her words of encouragement. She was close to tears, and so was Bruno.

Mirabel pushed the new doorknob into place, and a shimmering light streaked over the house. Suddenly it was no longer “the new house.” It was Casita, back to life. The miracle had remembered Mirabel at last.

The familiar moving tiles ushered everyone inside. There, Isabela found she could once again manifest plants of every kind, and Luisa could relocate even the largest of them with ease. Camilo showed off in his usual Camilo way, and Antonio joyously embraced his jaguar friend. Pepa danced under a scattering of hail. Julieta sighed in relief and headed for the kitchen.

Bruno felt that tickling, twitching, itching sensation behind his eyes again. He made a tiny sound of discomfort, and Dolores arrived at his side. “You okay, Tío?”

He rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, I lived with it for forty-five years. Won’t take long to get used to it again.”

“The break was nice though, huh?”

He looked at her. “ You okay?”

She smiled in a way that wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, it was driving me a little bit nuts not knowing everything that was going on. Hm! Speaking of which, someone is talking about me right now.”

“Someone called Mariano?” Bruno teased.

She gave him another smile, a sly one, as she walked away.

Dolores was immediately replaced by Mirabel. “Tío, I -- well, I know you said --”

“Look at all this! Look how happy everyone is, look at Casita! This all happened because of you.”

“Oh …”

“I’m so proud of you, Mirabel.”

“As am I,” said Alma behind them.

Before Mirabel could respond, the tiles moved them again, grouping the whole family together for a photo, only to prank them at the last second by throwing everyone askew. That picture would become a favorite.

The party carried on. Even though Bruno had grown more or less accustomed to the villagers, he still wouldn’t call himself a mingler. He found a dimly-lit corner in which to watch people and share snacks with Chato and Pecosita. From time to time, a member of his family would notice he was there and come check on him, and he assured them he was fine. And he was fine. He was happy to see his hermanas and sobrinos enjoying their Gifts.

As for his own … Julieta was right. A lot of things had changed. Just because he could see the future again didn’t mean that it was the only thing he could be known for.

The storytime kids, as he’d come to think of them, found him. “Are you able to do the spooky glowing green eyes again?” Juancho wanted to know.

“If I have a vision, yeah. But I can’t really do one here.”

“If you have a what?”

“A vision. If I look into the future.”

“YOU CAN LOOK INTO THE FUTURE?!”

“... Yes? Did you think my Gift was just glowing green eyes?”

“Well, you said Camilo made up all that other stuff, so, yeah.”

Alejandra elbowed him. “Didn’t you listen to Mirabel? She said he could see the future. You can trust her.”

“Will you still tell us stories?” Cecilia asked. “Even though the house is finished?”

“Actually, I’ve been making plans abAAAUGH!””

A tall, sinister figure loomed in the dim light, wide grin and glowing green eyes prominent. “What’s this I hear?” the figure asked in a deranged voice. “Juancho doesn’t believe in my power?”

“Hi Camilo!” Cecilia said brightly.

Sighing, the caricature of Bruno shifted into Camilo. “You could at least pretend to be scared.”

“You’re both storytellers. The two of you should tell stories together!” Alejandra suggested.

“Well,” Bruno said slowly. “If Camilo wants in on the secret project I’m working on, we just might.”

Camilo raised an eyebrow. “Secret project, you say?”

A few days later, Bruno brought Mirabel and Antonio in on the idea as well.

“Tiny … little … tiny little adorable rat costumes?” Mirabel sputtered, her eyes shining with glee. Abruptly, she ran out of Bruno’s room.

Bruno blinked in confusion as he watched her go. “... And I was hoping you, Antonio, could help communicate to the rats the more complicated things we want them to do. Like if, say, Camilo came up with a dance for them.”

Antonio nodded. “I can do that.” He hopped into his brother’s lap. “We’re a team!”

“So what I’m hearing,” Camilo said to Bruno, while giving Antonio a tickle, “is that you want me to direct.”

“Eventually, maybe,” Bruno conceded. “You have several qualities that could be helpful. So I think for now, stage manager might be the best job for you.”

“Stage manager? I could direct and act, but I don’t think I could be a stage manager and act.”

“It’s rat theater. The rats do the acting.”

“Oh.” That was a clearly disappointed Oh.

“Although …” Bruno pondered. “What if we picked a classic tale. All the roles played by rats -- except! For one character, which will be played by a human. The audience will love it. The juxtaposition of man and beast.”

Camilo grinned. “Will I get to sing?”

“What? Oh, I don’t know if it’ll be you in the role. We’ll see how you do in the audition.”

Camilo clutched at his heart. “Oh, Tío! You wound me! How could you do this to your own flesh and blood?”

Antonio giggled.

“You’re definitely not getting the role like that. That was way over the top, even for comedy. C’mon, I haven't even chosen the story yet, let alone the character. You might not be right for the part.”

“Right for the part? I can look. Like literally. Anybody. ” He shifted into his abuela.

“But can you act like anybody?”

“I’ll have you know my very first role was Christ himself!” He shifted again, into a serene and holy figure. How’d he manage that nimbus?

“That was a nativity play. You didn’t have this ‘pass out the loaves and fishes’ look. You were still in your mamá’s belly, while she played the role of Maria.”

“It still counts!”

“You were part of a costume!”

Camilo fixed Bruno with what was apparently his best steely gaze. “I’ll get that role. Just you watch me, old man.”

“Hey, that was pretty good. You might have a chance.”

He brightened. “Really?”

“Don’t call me, kid. I’ll call you.”

Mirabel came back in, carrying a notebook and a small basket. She halted mid-step when she saw what was before her. “Why is Camilo Jesus?”

From Camilo’s lap, Antonio shrugged, toying with the bucket. “I don’t really know what’s going on.”

Mirabel sat down among them as Camilo reverted to himself. “I’m ready to take notes and measurements for costumes. Hmm, any ideas on how to make a rat-sized dress form?” Everyone looked blank. “Eh, never mind, I’ll figure something out.”

Patient Pecosita was recommended to serve as model. While Mirabel unfurled her tape measure, Bruno told the kids more of his thoughts. A remodeled dollhouse might suffice; otherwise, he had other ideas for how sets might be constructed.

“Ay, more building,” Camilo grumbled.

“Before I start making costumes,” Mirabel said, “I’m going to need to know … well, what costumes to make. What play are we doing?”

“That’s … a good question.”

“We should ask the rats what kind of play they want to do,” Antonio suggested.

“... I’m certainly open to hearing their opinions.” Rats had artistic preferences?

“Pecosita says Torbellino is a great acrobat, and Tesoro would make a wonderful star performer.”

Bruno nodded. “That makes sense.”

“Torpe wants to do his own stunts.”

“Absolutely not. That would be like asking Agustín to make friends with bees.”

Antonio’s eyes grew wide. “That’s a great idea! I’ll go talk to them.” He hurried from the room.

As the door closed, Mirabel and Camilo looked at each other and snickered. After a moment, Bruno cracked a smile, too. As eager as he was to make this vision -- er, idea -- a reality, the truth was there was no rush. Nothing to worry about.

Not yet, anyway.

That evening, Bruno was cornered by his three eldest sobrinas. “You weren’t going to leave us out, were you?” Isabela asked, her arms folded.

“Leave you out? Of what, my will? I don’t really have anything.”

“I heard everything, Tío,” Dolores said. “Your big plans?”

Oh. Mariano had been sworn to secrecy. Dolores had not.

“Well, I … well, I just didn’t think you guys would be interested.”

Luisa looked hurt.

“I mean, because you’re adults! And this is rat theater! Silly Tío Bruno’s silly little rat theater.”

“We know it’s silly,” Luisa said. Her eyes widened. “That is! I don’t think any of us expected it to be serious. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t still be a fun thing to do. As a family.”

“Besides,” Dolores said, “Isabela’s got an idea for an addition to the show that we don’t think you’re going to be able to pass up. Why don’t you show him?”

Isabela unfolded her arms and, with a deeply smug look, opened her hands.

“Those are potatoes,” Bruno pointed out.

Isabela began humming. It was an old song, a lullaby. Were the potatoes … were the potatoes moving? At first it was hard to tell, but yes. They rocked back and forth, eventually standing on end. Bruno saw now that what looked like irregularities were vestigial limbs. Each had an indentation that indicated a mouth. And yes -- the potatoes had eyes.

The two potatoes, too, began to sing, in a wordless babble, harmonizing with Isabela. Tottering on their tiny legs. Waving their little arms. Bruno stared at them, mouth agape.

Isabela reached the end of the song, and the potatoes turned and waved to each other.

“Now, I realize they might not look like much. But I’m working on some costumes for them. Something simple, since I know Mirabel will be making rat costumes for you. Hats and ponchos, I thought.”

“Might not … did you just … did you just say they might not look like much?”

“There’s a purple one, too, but,” Isabela shook her head, “it can’t carry a tune.”

“So?” Dolores prompted. “Are they in?”

“Are we in?” Luisa added.

The potatoes, they agreed, would perform the opening act. Bruno wasn’t sure anything he could come up with had any business following singing potatoes, but their performance was too brief to go second. Isabela busied herself training her potatoes and fashioning their clothes. Luisa joined the writing team. Dolores didn’t write much, but she gave excellent feedback, and proved so good at keeping up with everything that Camilo happily gave her his stage manager duties.

Now there was no keeping the project a secret, and soon Félix approached Bruno with an idea for a comedy piece that pitted himself on trombone against Agustín on piano. “You could put us right after intermission,” he suggested. “We’ll get people back in their seats.”

“I suppose that would work, assuming that the play turns out to be a comedy.”

Félix looked across the room at his older son, who loomed over half a dozen rats, doing his very best hammy villain. The rats ignored him in favor of the younger son, who was guiding one rat through performing a pratfall. Nearby, the sentient potatoes had requisitioned Bruno’s bucket for a bath. He clapped his cuñado on the shoulder. “Bro, I sure hope it is.”

Which brought Bruno back to the script. Which wasn’t quite a script just yet, more a collection of vague ideas. Luisa had petitioned for sword fights and unicorns. Camilo insisted there should be a werewolf somewhere. (“Why a werewolf?” Bruno had asked. “Because some kid heard I was a shapeshifter and thought that meant I was a werewolf. I thought it was funny.”) As for Bruno, he’d secretly hoped there might be room for hot air balloon pirates and adventure on the Nile. And as Dolores swept by, she requested some telenovela-style scandalous romance.

“The warrior princess rides in on her unicorn and rescues the mummy from the werewolf?” Bruno asked, trying to get it straight.

“No, she rescues the werewolf from the pirates,” Luisa explained. “And they have a sword fight.”

“Then the princess and the werewolf fall in love, of course,” Camilo added.

“And it’s a scandal because it’s forbidden to love a werewolf?” Dolores asked.

“I think the twist should be that when the werewolf returns to human form, it turns out she’s a woman,” Isabela offered.

“Oh, even better.”

“Why would it be wrong to love a werewolf?” Antonio asked. “As long as she’s not mean. I bet she’d be nice and soft to hug.”

“She might even play fetch,” Mirabel said. “No? What, is that too silly?”

“Where did the mummy come in, then?” Bruno murmured, scanning the pages. “And did Hernando and Jorge just disappear after scene six?” He was sure there was a scene in Act 2 where Hernando was mistaken for a famous wizard, while Jorge disguised himself as a cactus.

After a few days, word began to spread that the Madrigals were planning a big show. Bruno accepted that the secret was out. He did insist, however, that the potatoes remain a secret. Isabela agreed.

“You may have a little problem, hermanito,” Pepa said, stepping gingerly around all the props and pieces spread around Bruno’s room.

“What?” Bruno looked up from the background he was working on, a smudge of paint on his cheek.

“I’ve been talking to people, and I’m pretty sure literally everybody in the village plans on attending your show.”

“But that’s good, isn’t it?” Mirabel asked, sewing a tiny button onto a tiny coat.

“Not if they all want to see what’s going on,” Bruno said, realizing. “Most of our performers are rats! Or potatoes!”

Camilo smiled. “Not to worry, Tío! I’ve got the solution to all your problems. If you’ll follow me.”

Bruno, puzzled, kept his peace as Camilo led him around the upper walkway. “It does mean a change of venue, but I’m just the kind of guy who would donate his own room to the cause.”

When Camilo was five, his magic room had come into being as a theater, and from what Bruno could see, this was still the case after the rebuilding. This wasn’t going to help the problem at hand.

But wait, there was something new, something like a large closet behind the last row of seats. Camilo opened the door, and with a bow, gestured Bruno inside. A light came on. There was a tall tripod in the middle of the room, and mounted atop it, what must be a kind of camera. There were other strange machines in the room as well.

“So these devices are how your future boxes with windows get their instant pictures.” Camilo explained as he started fiddling with switches.

“But we don’t have electricity in the Encanto.”

Camilo shrugged. “Magic house.” He pressed a button on the camera. “Look.”

The control room had a large window that faced the stage. Looking through it, Bruno saw that there was now a large screen hanging in the back, displaying an enlarged image of the proscenium curtains.

“Camilo, I think you’ve saved the day.”

“Well, you know what they say. The show must go on.”

The night of the show arrived. Casita was full of images of butterflies, and Bruno’s stomach was full of metaphorical ones. Clinging to his bucket, he kept peeking out from the wings. In the front row, he spotted the seven kids who had kept asking him for stories, and, as promised, Mariano. Every other seat was full as well. Julieta and Pepa stood at the heads of the aisles, acting as ushers. In the control room, of all people, was Mamá, who had reminded them that she knew her way around an old-fashioned camera. All she needed was someone to show her how to use these new machines. To her credit, she seemed to take to it well.

Everyone else was backstage. Antonio gave the rats a pep talk as Mirabel got them dressed. Félix and Agustín, staying close to their instruments, went over their routine one more time. Likewise, Luisa and Camilo ran through their lines -- as Luisa would be taking on the role of the warrior princess, while Camilo portrayed the pirate captain. (The rats’ attempts at swordplay had been unsuccessful.)

Isabela dressed her potatoes -- in very rustic garments, as she’d indicated -- and complimented Mirabel on her handiwork. “I don’t know how you do it. Your costumes turned out great!”

“Oh … thanks, Isa.” Mirabel might have blushed a little. “The truth is, I made a prototype for each one first.”

Dolores appeared next to Bruno. “I’m not sure a heart rate that fast is healthy in a man your age.”

“What? My age?” Bruno sputtered. “Betrayal!”

She giggled. “But I got you thinking about something else, didn’t I?” She moved on to Félix. “Abuela says she’s ready when you are.”

Félix had graciously agreed to act as the host of the show. His voice could easily cut through the pre-show chatter, and his cheer was infectious. He welcomed the audience to “the Triumphant Return of Madrigal’s Marvelous Rat Theater,” thanked them for coming, and thanked them for all they had done to help the Madrigals after Casita collapsed. He invited them to give themselves a round of applause. Smart.

“And now, without further ado, our first performance of the night: our angel, Isabela!”

Isabela, in her boldest, most colorful dress yet, squared her shoulders and pushed forward a wheeled table covered in bold, colorful tropical plants. The potatoes sat, momentarily inert, in the center. She disappeared to the other side of the curtain.

Bruno held his breath and crossed his fingers as Isabela began to hum. The gasps from throughout the audience told him that at least the vegetables were showing up on the screen. He listened to their high, eerie voices performing even more complicated harmonies than those he’d first heard from them. Isabela introduced each of the potatoes by name and talked a little about how they’d come about by happy accident. This was followed by two more songs before she left the stage, followed by cheers and whistles and deafening applause.

Isabela let out an excited little scream as she returned to the backstage area. “That was amazing!”

“And now for our main event,” Félix announced, “a new play: ‘The Moon Over the Nile.’”

“Break a leg!” Camilo said, as everyone took their positions. Bruno made sure to knock on wood in response.

As the curtains opened, revealing the set, only Luisa remained on stage, saluting with her sword. The play began as the warrior princess encountered the legendary duo, heroic Hernando and his faithful sidekick, Jorge, played by rats (but both voiced by Bruno).

Bruno had been a little worried that Camilo would be upset over not getting the lead role. But the boy had insisted that playing the villain was more fun, plus he loved the song that went with it. Not to mention, he got to ride around in the hot air balloon prop.

As the scenes went on, Bruno found himself wishing, just a little bit, that he’d given himself a role on stage. The kids were clearly having the time of their lives. But … while people treated him differently now than they had before his disappearance, he wasn’t sure the Encanto was ready to embrace him as an actor. If they enjoyed his show, whether or not they realized he’d been the driving force behind it, that should be enough, right?

Now came the intermission. Bruno stopped by the control room to check in with his mother. “It’s going well,” she told him. “This camera, it focuses itself. All I have to do is point it in the right direction.” She noticed what her son had in his hand. “What is that bucket for?”

“Oh, this? Well, it’s um … it’s just … You know what, I don’t actually need it.”

Alma shrugged. “You could set it there by the door, then. Out of the way.”

Bruno did so, and then returned backstage to try to relax for a few minutes.

Time was nearing for the next performance. Félix held his trombone at the ready, but where was Agustín?

Dolores had the answer, of course. She came running up with it. “Tío Agustín went into the control room and tripped over a bucket. He broke his --”

Leg?

“-- nose. Tía Julieta got him healed, but they needed to clean him up a bit.”

“Okay, then we’re just a little delayed. Not the worst thing that could happen.”

“When he tripped, he knocked over the camera. It’s completely destroyed.”

“The camera? The camera that lets us project our tiny little actors onto the screen so people can actually see them? The big dance number is in this half!” He bent over, pressing his hand to the wall, and hyperventilated.

“Tío?” It was Mirabel. “I think there might still be a way we can save this.”

“What?”

“I’ll be right back!”

Agustín appeared, cringing with regret, and his act with Félix began. If the piano playing was a little off, at least they were able to pretend it was part of the comedy of the piece.

Mirabel returned, her arms laden with clothing. “These are the prototypes I made of the rat costumes,” she explained.

“These are … actual, human-sized costumes.”

“Yeah. Well, I never figured out how to visualize a costume for a rat before seeing what it would look like as a human costume.”

Bruno laughed in disbelief. “And you didn’t just draw them?”

“This way I had a three-dimensional view. Anyway, I was already making Camilo and Luisa’s costumes, so …”

Bruno looked around. All his sobrinos were staring at him. “Okay, Mirabel, you’re wizard Hernando. Isabela, you’re cactus Jorge.” He handed them the outfits.

The sisters looked at each other and laughed.

“Dolores … the mummy is a non-speaking role, so you don’t have to worry about projecting your voice.”

“Perfect. Ooh, nice headdress.”

“Can I be a pirate with Camilo?” Antonio asked.

“Aww, hermanito …” his brother began.

“I want to ride in the hot air balloon!”

Camilo deflated.

“You’ll have to make do with your own trousers, pequeño, but here’s a pirate hat and jacket.”

“What about the werewolf?” Luisa asked. “I still need a werewolf to rescue!”

Ah. Yes, Bruno had thought he’d felt something furry at the bottom of the pile of costumes.

“Camilo? You wanna prove that kid right?”

“Nah, it’s all yours, Tío!”

“Isabela? It’s your song.”

“How could I pass up cactus Jorge?”

“But the werewolf …” He looked at Luisa.

“Don’t worry, Tío, I can lift you just as easily as the rat.”

“No, I know that. I was just thinking about the duet.” The song had been written for Isabela’s voice. Bruno wasn’t sure he could pull it off. But as for the mask … that, he would have to pull off.

But there was no time for doubt. Félix and Agustín were near the end of their act. It did seem to be going well, with the audience laughing in all the right places. Bruno pulled on the werewolf costume. “Here goes nothing.”

“My friends,” Félix announced, “in Act 2, the roles previously played by rats will be taken over by their understudies. We return to ‘The Moon Over the Nile.”

Swords clashed. Chashes ensued. Mysteries unraveled. The big dance number went off without a hitch, primarily thanks to Dolores. Camilo milked his villainous reprise for all it was worth. Mirabel’s Hernando was a surprisingly good imitation of Bruno’s. Isabela’s Jorge sprouted extra cacti, which earned her laughs, though Antonio’s ad libs got more. Luisa really did haul Bruno around with surprising ease.

Then came the duet, “When the Moon Disappears in the West,” in which the werewolf’s human face was revealed in the second verse. There were gasps from the audience. Were they negative gasps, or just surprised ones? But at the end of the song, Bruno and Luisa received a standing ovation.

Bruno stared toward the audience, straining, unsuccessfully, to see against the stage lights. Was that applause really for him? Well, it was for Luisa, mostly, surely. But nobody was booing or throwing things at him. Not a single wayward guava churro in sight.

The rest of the play was a blur, until the curtain call. Bruno was the last to be called, and Félix sure was taking his time with it, laying on superlatives like “the man who made it all possible,” “the creative genius” and “one of my favorite cuñados.”

As he stepped through the curtain, Bruno wished he had his bucket to fidget with. It had tripped Agustín, true, but it had also protected Bruno when he’d had to plunge headfirst through the wall of the collapsing Casita. The bucket was a two-edged sword.

Isabela draped a garland of flowers over Bruno’s shoulders. He took his bow. The applause did not stop. This was … this was for him. Actually for him. The whole village was here, and they could see Bruno as something else besides a bad luck prophet.

And so could he.

#encanto #encantobigbang #it's me amrys

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heaven-s-black-box · 1 year ago

Text

Sunday- cafe Recht Chpt.7

Return to File

Recovery date: September 14th, 2020

Description: Miles owns a cafe with Franziska, and Phoenix and Maya are famous actors. Their daughters go to school together, so what happens when they want a sleepover?

Notes: A entry series involving a descendant of a traveler, following the death of her mother it was determined Sky would be better off staying with Miles Edgeworth. This is an OC insert, the fantastical technobabble is just for looks

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Word count: 798

Back to directory

“Good morning Mr.Edgeworth! How are the girls? They weren’t too much trouble, I hope,” Maya asked as she walked into the cafe.

It was around nine in the morning on Sunday, and the cafe was open for business. Unlike during the week, it was almost packed with students studying for exams, and old friends catching up. Simon, a man she didn’t recognize, Franziska, and Miles were working. Franziska was bringing out a tray of cookies from the back, while the unknown man manned the register, and the other two made drinks.

“Good morning Ms.Fey, they were no trouble at all. They’re up stairs right now if you want to go get them,” he smiled, before handing a drink to a customer.

“Thanks!”

With that, she headed through an employees only door that he’d pointed out. It was a small stair well, with a short all at the end and four doors. Finding Sky’s door wasn’t hard, it had a garden themed sign with her name on it. Although she couldn’t name all the flowers, she was pretty sure most of them were white roses. As she approached the door, she could hear the girls talking on the other side.

“See, it’s really funny.”

“One time, there was a bunch of screaming and laughter, and it turned out aunt Maya had done something to daddy’s chair. But it was really confusing to listen to, and I got really worried.”

“It sounds like everyone is really close.” That was a voice she didn’t recognize.

“I’ll have to listen to it with papa and everyone else. Is there one from last friday?”

“Nope, everyone was busy filming. They don’t usually record it during filming, unless it’s for promotional stuff.”

“Guys,”another voice she didn’t recognize said, and everything went silent.

Maya knocked on the door and waited, but no answer came. Carefully, she opened the door and popped her head in. The room was “empty”, aside from the usual things you’d find in a young girls bedroom. A pile of stuffed animals, a dresser, a bed that she was probably going to outgrow soon, and a pile of conspicuously placed blankets giggling.

Looking around, she let out a sigh, “Where did everyone go? I could have sworn I heard voices coming from this room.” She turned and left, leaving the door open a crack. As soon as she left, the giggles turned into full on laughter. “I caught you!” She yelled, as she flung the door open, making all the girls scream. Sky had moved to cover Athena’s ears, and accidentally hit her in the face while doing so. “Oh, are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” the girl with orange hair said, holding her nose. She removed her hands and twitched her nose a bit. “Yup, my nose is all good. ”

“So, you two ready to go?” Maya asked Pearl and Trucy.

“Can’t we stay a bit longer?” Trucy whined.

“Please, Athena and Junie aren’t leaving yet either.”

“No, come on Trucy. Apollo misses you, and Pearl, Iris is coming by today.” This caught Pearls attention, and her eyes lit up.

“Iris? Wait! As in Iris Fey the actress?”

“Yes!” Pearl said, nodded her head, “She’s my big sister, but I don’t see her alot because she does alot of movies far away.” Sky let out a long whine.

“Why do you guys know all the cool people?”

“You know some pretty cool people too Sky,” Juniper laughed.

“Ya, how many people can say their aunt is the star of Piece of cake? Or that their uncle is a famous director?” Sky shrugged.

“True.”

“Okay, time to go girls,” Maya clapped her hands, and Trucy and Pearl grabbed their bags before heading to the door.

“Wait!” Juniper called. “Don’t forget these,” she said, handing them each a small wooden sign. It was similar to one Sky had on her door, except the flowers were different.

“Thanks,” the girls hugged Juniper before waving at the other two. “Bye bye!”

“Bye! See you tomorrow!” The other three said, as the door closed.

As they headed back down stairs, Maya asked, “So, you girls have fun?”

“Yup!” Maya held the door open, and they stepped into the cafe again. “Bye Mr. Edgeworth! Bye everyone else!” They called as they left the cafe.

“Bye girls!”

“Oh,” Maya stopped the door from closing behind her, and popped her head back in, “Mr. Edgeworth, Franny, would you two like to have dinner with Nick and I tomorrow night?”

Both adults seemed rightfully taken off guard, but Miles still answered, “That sounds lovely.”

Maya grinned, “Great! Just give our numbers to Franny, and we can work something out. Bye!” The door closed behind her, and Miles turned to Franziska.

“Franny?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up!”

#researcher s's recovery #ace attorney #cafe recht #trucy wright #pearl fey #maya fey #miles edgeworth #franziska von karma #athena cykes #juniper woods #oc insert #fluff

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telluriannovice · 2 years ago

Text

She tapped her pen on the paper, watching the people in front of her. Danny made a pun, Jazz rolled her eyes, Tucker and Sam laughed. She hummed, then stood and walked up to them.

“Okay, I know you’ve all gotten used to calling me Dani, but I don’t-“ She shuffled her feet, “-but I don’t think I can explain it without it sounding bad but-”

“You’ve picked a new name!” Jazz said with excitement, “Is it just the name? Do you want new pronouns too?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” She said, “I just… I don’t want to just be another Danny. I’m a clone, but I want to be my own person too. And I just… want… my own… name, you know?”

Danny put his hand on her shoulder, “I want you to know, you’ve always been more than “just a clone” to me. You’ve always been your own person and I’ve always liked you for being you. It doesn’t hurt my feelings that you don’t want my name.”

She smiled and hugged him.

“So, are these the names?” Sam asked, looking at the paper in the younger girl’s hand.

She let go of Danny and nodded, holding up the paper. “Yeah, so, I have some that I like, but I don’t know which one to pick. And maybe… like, you guys have some suggestions? I don’t know, I’m kinda like… uhm… not sure what I want yet.”

“So what have you got?” Tucker asked, and she let Jazz take the paper out of her hand.

“Oh, these are good!” Jazz said, “Alexandria, Cleopatra, Hera, Victoria – Those are all queen names! I think you should go with one of those!”

“It’s not on the list, but how about Zelda?” Tucker said, waving his hands with flourish.

Sam glanced at it too, then took the paper from Jazz, “Wait? Ida? Like my grandma?”

“There’s also Eleanor, which is our mother’s mom,” Jazz said and pointed at the name on the list.

“I thought they sounded cool," She said, "Is that bad?”

“Of course not!” Jazz said, “Lots of people choose names based off people the admire or just like the sound of.”

Sam then hummed, “But why’s it got to be a name like someone else’s? I think you should add words.”

“All names are words, Sam,” Tucker pointed out but Sam sighed.

“No, I mean like, Granite or Fungus. You know, words that aren’t normally names. Bird? Leaf? Bandana?”

“But these are the ones you like, right?” Danny asked, finally getting a look at the paper.

“Yeah, but I don’t know if any of them really fit,” She said, “Zelda, Fungus and Bandana are pretty good ones.”

“Eh~” Danny waved his hand side-to-side, “You don’t have to add anything you don’t like.”

Danny handed her back the paper and she stared hard at it, like she could scare the wrong names away and be left with just the right one.

“Well, we could try some of them out?” Danny suggested, “We can call you Alexandria for a day or so to see how you like it, then try out a different one if you don’t like it?”

She thought about it then nodded, “Yeah, that could work?”

“Alright!” Jazz clapped her hands together, “What do you want for dinner, Alexandria?”

Alexandria’s face split into huge smile. She didn’t know if she liked it yet but she was going to find her own name, and her friends and family were going to help.

#danny phantom #dani fenton #danny fenton #jazz fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #fan fic #ficlet #look

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eeunoia · 3 years ago

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ENHYPEN Imagines

missing part two

part one

pairing: park sunghoon x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: contains yandere themes

note📎: I think this will have a part 3. Are you excited for their comeback? AAAHH! Anyway, I hope you guys liked it! it really means a lot to me whenever you let me know what you think about them, re-blogs and comments are well appreciated. btw, i love you guys and thank you for supporting me up until now. have a nice day/night! 🤍

permanent tag-list: @rubyanne @en-sun @studioreader @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @crjwon @love13tter @kako-chan @classicroyalty @angel-hyuckie @jun-bug @ncityy04 @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @fearlesskz @abdiitcryy @hime98 @moonsclover @hoonstrology @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @kyleeanne @minamoons @clar-iii @notmyselfbuttrying @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @person-standing @black-bread1230 @woopetals @sleepyenhasasha @squiishymeow @fairfairee @jiwlys (still working on my tag-list)

“Are you coming later after class?” Jake asked his friend Jay while they’re slowly fixing their things inside their duffel bags. Their practice for rugby was finally over and now, they are free to go home already.

“Where? Aren’t you tired after that practice Sim Jaeyun?” Jay asked his friend back, a bit confused. Jake furrowed his brows and tilted his head a bit. They do had a very hard practice today but that’s mainly why they need to go chill right after.

Sunghoon on the other hand remained silent, eyes feeling a bit heavy because of tiredness. All he can think about now and is to go home and be with you. He just saw you before he goes to school but he missed you so much that he can use a good cuddle once he’s home.

“Hoon?” he snapped back to reality at the mention of his name. He lifted his head and looked over his two friends. They’re both looking at his direction.

“Huh?”

Jake scoffed while Jay just shake his head side to side. “Why are you always spacing out, dude? I asked if you want to hang out after school?” Jake repeats himself for his lost friend.

Sunghoon sighed and continued to put his dirty clothes inside his bag so he can leave already. “I’ll pass today. I’m too tired.” he excused again.

Jake’s shoulder fell as Jay furrowed his brows, staring seriously at their friend. “What? You’re skipping again?” Jake couldn’t believe it.

Sunghoon carried his bag and hang the strap of his bag over one of his shoulders before looking them.

“Sorry, just too tired.” he said and even shrugged his shoulders. He put up a small smile for them not to think about it too much.

“No fun!” Jake said and carried his bag as well. He just chuckled at it but he noticed how Jay’s eyes remained checking his reaction. He knew his friend is already confused why he skip hangouts too often.

“Are you hiding something from us, Hoon?” Jay asked straightly at his friend. He wasn’t caught off guard, he knew Jay catches up at anything easily and he knew him very well. Jake snapped his head back at his direction, eyes looking curious.

Sunghoon smiled a little, “No. I’m just dead tired, dude.” he said.

Jay’s eyes were still focused at him and there Sunghoon realized that maybe he is being suspicious since he skips too often. Of course his friends will be confused why and be curious as to what he’s up to lately. He needs to be cautious in order to avoid other people finding out his secret.

He sighed, “Fine, I’ll come.” he said. Jake’s face lighten up and walked closer to him right away. Jay remained checking him for a while tho, but then he smirked and went to wrap his arm over his shoulder too.

“See you tomorrow, Hoon!” Jake said with a big smile over his face. Hoon smired and nodded his head at his friends.

“See you tomorrow, dude.” Jay said and gently clapped his hand over to his shoulder.

He nodded his head. They hang out together and sure had a lot of fun. When its their turn to go different ways, his friends waved over at him and he did the same before watching them walk away from him. Sunghoon’s smile fell and his eyes grew dark. He couldn’t even feel anything other than missing you. All he want now is to arrive home and wrap you around his arms.

He sat down at the bench where he waits for his bus. He opened his phone and scrolled over his gallery, showing the recent photos he took of you. Some contains you sleeping peacefully, some while you’re crying and some were the rare moments where you behave yourself for him.

It has been three weeks already. Sunghoon can say you improved. You don’t fight back that often and he can see sometimes you show affection for him too. Now, he can have you walking around the basement freely while he’s at home. He also left you books so you wouldn’t be so bored. Slowly, Sunghoon can really feel that you are there, that you are finally cooperating with him. He can’t help but to feel so good.

Now, just thinking of you makes him miss you even more. He slowly pulled your handkerchief that have your scent, he carries it around just in case he misses you so much and he feel like he’ll go crazy. It calms him down and comes handy all the time.

“W-Why do you have that?” his head snapped over to the person in front of him.

There stood a very familiar girl. It was your best friend. The one who also gave out your missing flyers at school. He saw how fear consumed her face, she looked pale like as if all the blood inside her was drained out of her. Sunghoon stood up, towering over the frightened girl.

“This is mine.” Sunghoon answered completely unbothered by the situation.

The girl’s eyes were still widened as she stare at him, tears slowly tempting to come out from them.

“N-No... that’s y/n’s. I gave that to her! My grandma made that.” she said and a tear left from her eyes. She seems very afraid right now but that didn’t even bothered Sunghoon.

He took a step closer to her making her step back in fear. She roamed her eyes around and her heart fell at the sight of isolated bus stop. It is already a bit late and so there are a few people here. It's just the two of them.

“W-What did you do to her?” she asked balling her fist trying to prevent them from shaking. She clenched her jaw and despite the fear she tried to look over Sunghoon’s deadpanned face.

He was just caught red handed but he seemed unbothered at all. He approached and caught (bestfriend’s name) off guard. She hit him with her bag and he was stunned for a moment.

“Where is y/n?! Give her back!” she screamed, hoping that someone can hear her and rescue her from him.

He slowly turned his head towards her and she can’t explain what she felt when she met his cold dark eyes, “You will never find her, no one will.” and with that, he advanced making her scream in fear.

Your head snapped over to the door of the basement and you waited patiently for Sunghoon to enter this dark place. You were waiting for him and slowly getting worried for him since he’s never been this late.

“Hey,” he heard him greeted before he squat towards you to untie your hands.

You didn’t waste any second and quickly embraced him tightly. It caught him off guard for a while but slowly a smile spread over his face as he snake his arms around your waist.

“Looks like someone missed me.” he scoffed after his comment then he pulled away to cup your face and look at your eyes.

You pouted, cheeks blushing a little. At this point, you had been used to his affection that you ends up seeking for them whenever he’s not around. Yeah, what he’s done was wrong. You are clearly scared but slowly, you started seeing how Sunghoon really cares for you. He just have a different way of showing it.

“Did you missed me, doll?” he asked softly, lips inches away from yours. His breath was hot and your heart raced at the sight of his breath-taking face.

You nodded your head as answer and Sunghoon smirked, “Tell me,”

“I missed you. I missed you, Sunghoon.” you mumbled that made his heart beat fast and his mind go crazy. He licked his lower lip.

He leaned in for a peck at your lips then he pulled away to stare at your eyes. Your eyes looked drunk of him and he loves it whenever you’re like this. The way your eyes stares at him and your warm touch drives him crazy every time. It’s a cloud nine for him.

“I missed you even more, love. I almost went crazy because I missed you so much.” he mumbled, tone of sadness were present over his words then he once again leaned in for a kiss.

You return his kiss and enjoyed how he caress your face gently. After you pull away, your brows then furrowed at the sight of a slight bruise on his nose. Your hand raised to go touch it, eyes looking worriedly.

“What happened to your nose?” you asked.

He gulped but chuckled afterwards, “Just a small accident on rugby practice.” he reasoned out, doesn’t really want you to figure out where did it came from.

Your lips pursed and suddenly puckered into a pout before you gently caress his face this time. He closed his eyes, nuzzling his face over your touch. “Are you okay?” you are still worried.

He chuckled, “As long as you’re here, I’m okay.” he said seriously and pulled you even closer. He kissed your cheeks before he stared at your eyes.

You smiled a little and rested your forehead over at his. You two enjoyed the short silence that occupied the two of you. It was something you enjoy lately. Just staring at each other’s eyes or sometimes just caged within each other’s arms. It was something you never imagined to enjoy.

“Aren’t you hungry, love? I bought you food.” he said while you’re peacefully laying over his chest, both of your bodies entangled with one another.

You kept your eyes closed, enjoying the way he draws small circle using his hand that was placed inside your shirt. You felt his lips kissed the top of your head.

“I just want to cuddle.” and he chuckled after hearing that. He embraced you even tighter if that’s possible and kissed your forehead.

“I love you so much.”

You sighed and lifts your head a little to look at his eyes. “I love you,”

His heart warmed up and with loving eyes he placed yet another hot kiss at your lips.

“Stop! Stop! I said stop fucking crying already!” Sunghoon said frustrated as his hand ran through his hair in distress. He watch how your body collapse over the floor, your head hanging low while you cried hardly.

You two were just doing very fine lately. You were obeying perfectly, you were very loving towards him and he was very happy about it. Not until you saw your best friend’s keychain. You went hysterical as you already know what he did to her. Its like you were slapped with reality once again.

“W-What did you do to h-her?!” you don’t know what to feel first. Fear, because up until now you are here with him or worry for your friend.

Sunghoon’s eyes went dark as he stare down at you, “She was being too noisy. I thought I could just get rid of her.” he said, no remorse can be heard from his voice.

Your mouth fell open because of what you just heard, a tear left your eye. You were silent, unable to even utter a single word. Suddenly, the blur memories you shared with your best friend flashes back through your mind. You cannot believe that you cannot see those smiles anymore.

“Now,” Sunghoon gulped and shut his eyes for a while to calm himself. It has been a whole mess the moment you knew about your friend. It makes him mad that you care too much for her, even more than you should care for him.

He is the only you should think about. Mainly the reason why he abducted you from those people who’s keeping you away from him. Those people who comes between the two of you. His blood boils just by the thought of them.

“You stop acting crazy because of her or I’ll seriously give you punishment, doll.” he mumbled before he crouch down to grab you by the arm and help you get up.

You bit your lower lip, using your remaining strength, you shove his hold off of you. Sunghoon clenched his jaw as he tilts his head while he watch you shoot glares at him.

“Just kill me!”

He stared at you for a bit while before he suddenly held your jaw very tight. With dark eyes he looked straight to your angry ones. He was not bothered by how you look at him or by the amount of tears that are flowing out of your eyes. All he know is that he’s never going to let you go.

“Never.” he said seriously.

“I will never let go of you, y/n. You’re going to be with me for the whole lifetime.”

“Are you okay, Hoon?” Jake noticed how his friend was in a very bad mood. He isn’t talking much and his eyes looked so blank.

“What happened to your face?” he asked again. Sunghoon have a band-aid over his face.

He glanced at him, “I scratched myself.” he answered shortly before continuing to put his things inside his bag.

Jake just nodded his head and just shrugged it off. Jay on the other hand was silently watching their friend, observing his every move. He was acting odd the whole day and so he cannot help but to worry for him.

“I’ll go first.” he mumbled shortly and left right away. He didn’t even wait for them to bid good bye.

“Maybe he’s just having a very bad day.” Jake said trying to shrug the thought off.

Some of their team-mates shrugged it off too. Jay was a bit bothered though. Yeah, it could really be just a very bad day but for some reasons, he feel like something’s up. He was still spacing out when suddenly someone clapped his hand over his shoulder.

“Huh?” he asked.

“Sunghoon left this.” then Sunghoon’s phone came into his view.

He gently grabbed it from the person in front of him and muttered a small thank you.

On the other hand, you sniff a little and hurried to free yourself. You sneak a little broken glass that’s why you managed to untie yourself. Sunghoon’s not home yet and so you can try to escape.

Your steps were slow, afraid to make a loud noise. Sunghoon was out buying something after he came home from school. When you made it out from the basement, your heart beats fast at the thought of escaping this hell.

Jay furrowed his brows while he slowly walked towards the door of Sunghoon’s house. It was very quiet, a little too quiet. They’re not a loud family but something feels off.

He sighed and knocked his hand over to the door. “Sunghoon?” he called out.

You were stoned at your position when you heard an oddly familiar voice. You slowly made your way towards the main door, hands shaking.

“Sunghoon, dude? You here?”

“Jay...” you mumbled softly when you finally realized who it is. With a fast phase you ran towards the door, limping a bit.

When you open the door, Jay was beyond surprise to see you. He cannot explain as he was left unable to talk, tears streamed down your face and was about to collapse on the floor but Jay managed to catch you.

“H-Help,”

Jay furrowed his brows hardly, “Y/n? What are you doing here?” he asked, at dazed. Looking puzzled, everything suddenly made sense to him.

Sunghoon, his friend, was the one behind why you went missing for weeks. He cannot believe. He clenched his jaw as he caress your face softly before he carried you.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”

Jay helped you to go inside his car before he pulled out his phone and dialed someone. That was the last thing you remember before you pass out because of too much tiredness and with all the crying you did.

main master-list

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letterstotheflre · 3 years ago

Text

that’s the thing about illicit affairs

summary: james was never hers to lose.

warnings: CHEATING, age gap (not specified but reader is in her 20s), tiiiny angst?? i don’t think it’s sad lmao, allusions to sex and one miniature sex scene, some food mentions, and a very badly written argument.

word count: 3k (why are they always so long ffs)

a/n: my first james potter fic <3 i love this man so much, sorry for making you the bad guy here. this one’s been sitting in my drafts for a few weeks, and since i’ve been feeling kinda sad i finally got around to edit it. also hedric rights!!

They always meet like this.

The room is dark except for a small sea salt lamp she bought on sale from Target. Her clothes are piling up on the floor, discarded carelessly by her lover, and his are not too far from meeting the same fate.

He is kissing her hungrily as he could never get enough of her. His hands travel all over her back while she unbuttons his shirt, their lips never parting. He moves her to her bed, the sheets a pale green that reminds him of—

No. He closes his eyes tightly, pretends the green is actually blue like the lacy bralette that covers her breasts and moves his lips down to her jaw. He sucks and nips and bites, letting her moans echo freely between the four walls that make their little sanctuary.

Her hands quickly undo his belt and stroke him lightly through the fabric of his boxers. He groans against the junction of her neck, the skin softer than anything he’s touched in years.

He pushes her down on the bed, cupping her face while he looks at her properly, noting the tangled hair caused by his fingers. Her lips are puffy and shiny, his kisses being the perpetrator of their current state. He waits for her to say something, to give him a sign that this is okay.

(It’s not okay, and they both know it. It’ll never be okay.)

She nods her head, and he kneels in front of her, pushing her legs wide open before he dives in.

—

She is laying on her bed, the sheets covering her body as she watches him try to fix up his hair in front of the mirror on her makeshift vanity.

“Make sure no one sees you leave,” she says, “and put—”

“Put my hood up, I know,” he finishes the sentence for her. It’s not the first time they do this dance.

“Sirius and Remus are with Harry at home. I told them I was going for a run, so they won’t say anything if I show up all sweaty,” he adds, trying to fill the awkward silence.

She just nods her head, fingers playing with a loose thread on the edge of the sheet, pulling it a bit more every time she twists her index finger. He steps forward, then sits on her bed and traces her cheekbone with his knuckles. “You know I care about you, right?” he asks.

Her heart clenches, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest that makes it hard to breathe for a second. She lowers her eyes, refusing to stare at those hazel irises that started everything. “I know, James,” she assures quietly, looking at a picture of her and Harry that’s stuck to the wall just behind him.

James brushes back some stray hairs that are still stuck to her forehead, then presses a small kiss on the slightly sweaty skin. He gives her a tentative smile before heading to the door, and she only looks in his direction when she hears the click of the door.

(He might care, but not enough.)

—

Sundays are always a slightly awkward affair at first.

Both of their families have been friends for years, getting together every Sunday for lunch at the Potter’s. James and Sirius always man the grill with her dad, all of them wearing those corny ‘kiss the chef!’ aprons. Her mother helps Lily make the salads in the kitchen while they gossip with Remus, who steals a few tomatoes when they aren’t looking. Now that it’s summer, she and Harry splash each other in the pool instead of catching up in his room.

It’s always strange seeing James in the light of day, pretending that this is the only version of him she knows: the version of him that is a friend, a father, a husband.

But she knows the other version of him: the one that has her on her knees begging for a taste of him, the one that grips her hair while he pounds into her from behind, the one that lets his tongue explore places of her no one else has. The version of him that kisses her forehead and plays with her fingers while their bodies are tangled together under the sheets. The version of him that kisses her as if she were the only one made for him.

(She isn’t.)

They are sitting around the table eating. Sirius is laughing about something with his arm around Remus’s shoulders, his bark of laughter echoing across the garden. Her mother’s shoulders shake as Lily rolls her eyes in amusement. James and her father have gone back to the grill to bring everyone their second round of burgers, and she can hear her father complaining about something from work.

“Here y’go, kid,” says James as he places the plate in front of her before ruffling her hair. She tenses up for a second before relaxing, muttering a small “thank you” before reaching for the ketchup.

She hates that nickname. It’s so impersonal, keeps a distance between them that truly doesn’t exist. As if he isn’t the only person that can make her vision whiten and the colours of her room hazy while she clutches his shoulders. As if he isn’t the only person who can pull so many different sounds from her vocal cords, sounds he knows no one else has ever heard before because he is the only one who can create them.

She can feel Sirius’s eyes on her as she stretches one arm, so she hesitantly glances at him. He raises an eyebrow, eyes switching back and forth between James and her, and she can see the cogs turning in his mind.

She gulps anxiously, dismissing him with a wave of her hand and goes back to eating.

—

James’s moans are loud as he gathers her hair in a makeshift ponytail. His cock is buried in her throat, and he watches as she gags for a second before relaxing her throat.

She’s taking him so deep that her nose nuzzles his pubic hair, the musky scent of James filling her nose as she breathes deeply through it. She starts moving her head up and down, swirling her tongue around the tip every time she rises.

He is a mess above her, needy whines and wanton moans leaving his mouth. His hips thrust up softly, slowly fucking her mouth, and he relishes in the small choking sounds she makes. His head rolls back as he groans, “That’s it, baby, so good to me.”

She winces at the name and pulls away from him. “Don’t call me that,” she mutters, but her hands never stop stroking him. She takes him back into her mouth and starts sucking with a newfound fervour, his voice echoing inside her head as she tries to make him forget about her.

(She tries to forget too.)

—

Honey rays filter through her window.

They are both laying on her bed, James on his stomach while she refills the glasses with some cheap wine she got from the store. He looks at the tiny purple splotches on her neck and the red fingerprints on her hips, then smirks proudly. When she turns, she smiles at him softly.

There’s a summer breeze that ruffles her curtains, and he can hear some teenagers laughing as they walk down the street over the music that plays from her speaker.

She places her glass on her nightstand, her nipples brushing his naked back as she leans over him. She lays down on her side, her fingertips softly drawing shapes on his skin. It takes him a moment to realize they are not random shapes but letters.

Her name, written over his scattered freckles and connecting his moles with cursive loops.

He takes her hand and kisses it, slightly chapped lips pressing against her open palm. Then he kisses her lips, still bitterly sweet with grapes, as his tongue moves languidly against hers while he pulls her by the hand on top of him.

It feels like a distant memory. It feels like a dream.

—

The cacophony of different voices singing “Happy Birthday” rings in her ears.

Harry is at the front of the table, an adorable blush dusting his cheeks at the attention. On either side of him are James and Lily, smiles wide as they watch their son blow the candles. Cedric is behind him, hands on his shoulders, and he leans forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

She sings and claps, whooping with Sirius when Harry blows the last candle. She eats cake and drinks the pretty cocktails Lily ordered. She smiles and laughs, pretends she couldn’t see the way the candles made the golden band on James’s ring finger beam like the sun.

She pretends she doesn’t see the way James holds Lily’s waist before kissing her. She pretends she can’t see them dancing slowly to a song Remus put on the Spotify playlist as a joke.

She pretends she can’t hear his footsteps following her when she goes to the bathroom. She feigns disinterest when he grabs her wrist and pulls her towards a deserted corridor.

But she can’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach when he kisses her, the thrumming in her veins when he pushes one leg between her thighs, nor the pleasure-filled gasps and moans that leave her mouth when he helps her roll her hips along his covered thigh.

It’s thrilling; they’ve never done something like this in public, much less in such proximity to friends and family.

(In such proximity to her.)

Even though she knows it shouldn’t, it gives her a sense of victory. Because he is here with her now: he is kissing her, making her moan, and whispering dirty things in her ear.

A faraway call of his name breaks the spell they’re under. They pull away hastily; she fixes her dress while James makes sure there are no lipstick stains on his face. The footsteps are getting closer, heels hitting the floorboards at the same rhythm as their rapid beating hearts.

It’s Sirius.

James almost breathes a sigh of relief, but she remains tensed up. Sirius looks between them, the same look he had that Sunday all those weeks ago on his face, and she feels bile rising in her throat.

“Lily’s looking for you,” he says, his thumb pointing back over his shoulder towards the reception where everyone’s gathered.

“Right,” says James. “Better go see what she needs. You do not want to see an angry drunk Lily.” He laughs, almost oblivious to the awkward tension between his two friends. He goes back to Lily, leaving her leaning against the wall and Sirius standing in the middle of the hallway.

Sirius looks at her, and even though his mind already knows, he refuses to believe it. “I didn’t know where the bathroom was,” she offers as an explanation. It’s a flimsy excuse, she knows that, but it’s the best she can do under this kind of pressure.

“Right,” he whispers with a short nod, then follows James.

She stays rooted to her spot, lips tingling with the ghost of James touch and a guilty mind.

—

Hours later, she clings to a pillow as she lays on her bed alone. The same pillow James was resting on less than twelve hours ago.

She breathes in deeply, trying to catch any scent of him she can, but there’s only the scent of her fabric softener.

There’s no James. No citrus shampoo or woodsy cologne nor salty air from the beach near his house. Because he never wears any cologne when he comes to her, ensuring that there’s no trace of him once he leaves.

Like he doesn’t even exist.

—

It ends in a parking lot a month later.

She was waiting for Luna to arrive at the mall but ended up asking for a rain check when James texted her, saying they needed to talk.

‘Meet me behind the mall’, she texts him.

She walks to the back of the building and waits for his red car to show up. She already knows where this conversation is going to go, and her heart shatters at the thought of saying goodbye to him.

She raises her head when she hears a honk in front of her, and she gets in while whispering a small “hey”. He doesn’t start the car again, just settles for turning the ignition key off. She looks at the families leaving the mall through the tinted window, refusing to look at him, as her knee bounces up and down anxiously.

The silence is heavy, and she suddenly feels cold in the August heat.

James takes a deep breath, “We can’t keep doing this.”

She can’t help the snarky comment. “That’s not what you were saying yesterday while you had your fingers buried inside me.” He looks at her unimpressed, and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s wrong,” he says— as if she doesn’t already know that. “C’mon, baby, don’t make this harder than it has to—”

“I told you not to call me that!” she raises her voice, and the car gets silent again. She hates the tears that gather in her eyes, hates that she cares so much about him and their stupid game, but she couldn’t help it. Not when he whispered so many sweet nothings in her ears and caressed her skin so softly, almost afraid to break him if he was too rough.

(Not that he cared about that when he stretched her wide open and thrust so hard into her that the bed frame banged against the wall.)

“You can’t just show up here and tell me it’s over like you weren’t the one that came to me first,” she jeers, and she can see the tick of his jaw as he clenches it. Good, she thinks, make him angry.

“Don’t just blame me. You didn’t say ‘no’ once.” He grounds out, “In fact, I can recall you were begging me to fuck you against the wall.”

Her cheeks turn into a small fire, a slight feeling of shame overcoming her. “Oh, like you were any better!” she exclaims. “‘Been thinking about you for months.’ ‘You have no idea the things you do to me.’ ‘No one can suck my cock like you.’ ‘I care about you!’” She deepens her voice to mock him.

James opens his mouth to keep the ball rolling, and she wants him to do it because it meant that the fight was still on, that they wouldn’t have to end this. Instead, he takes a deep breath to calm himself. “I’m telling you now it’s over. Stop acting like a kid who didn’t get her Christmas present,” he says, knowing exactly what he is doing with those words.

“I’m not a kid,” she snaps, her eyes fighting back angry teats at his dismissal. “Then stop acting like one,” he shrugs.

Her hands turn into fists, nails digging themselves into her palms as she tries to keep her anger at bay. “Do you know how much of myself I gave to you? How many plans with my friends have I cancelled in case you called? How many guys I stopped seeing because they weren’t you?” she rants, her voice increasing in volume as she lets her frustration take over. Then, she pauses. “You’ve ruined me, James.”

Her voice is so pained that it makes his heart clench, and he lowers his head, refusing to look at her. He knows, God, he knows what he’s done, but he couldn’t help it. He had been so lonely with Lily spending so much time at the hospital, and then there she was with her caring and understanding nature. With her adorable laughs and those touches that were so addictive, a mercurial high that gave him the lowest lows whenever he tried to stop.

He keeps his mouth shut; there’s nothing left to say anyway, and it’s better for her to hate him rather than anything else. “You are not going to say anything?” It’s meek, vulnerable, and she wants to slap herself for acting this way. She knew it would never last, that he would always choose her.

He was never hers to lose, so why is she still fighting?

She nods her head in surrender, biting her lip to stop herself from sobbing. The anger now gave way to sadness, “I can’t believe I let you make a fool of me.” Her voice is hoarse, a result of the lump in her throat that prevents her from swallowing comfortably.

She gets out of the car and slams the door shut, then leaves the parking lot, leaving him behind. She keeps walking, fingers gripping the straps of her bag until she reaches an empty street.

The golden sun is ready to dip on the horizon, and she can hear James’s car speeding behind her.

—

She doesn’t let the tears fall until she’s inside her apartment.

The moment she closed the door, she crumbled to her knees, loud sobs falling from her mouth and fat tears rolling down her cheeks. It takes her a moment to gather enough strength to walk to her room.

She cries and cries, buries her face in her pillows and starts sobbing even harder because she can smell him. The salty scent and citrus shampoo finally embedded themselves in the fabric, and she can’t believe that after all those days she craved to feel him close to her, he chooses now to leave a trace behind.

She cries for hours until her eyes are puffy and red, and snot comes out of her nose. Her chest heaves with short breaths that don’t really fill her lungs as she clings to that damn pillow before throwing it across the room. She can’t believe it ended like this: with her completely broken for anyone else while James gets to go back to his life and act like nothing ever happened.

Yet she knows that if she had to choose, she would do it all over again because if she had to choose someone to be her ruination, she would choose James Potter a million times.

TAGLIST: @emmaev @gxtitobxby @ildm4ev @capsmischief @arisblackhole @dracosafety @dracoxgeorge @tonystarksmutgarden @blowing-mikey @roonilwazlibswhore @lovelylupinx @sarcasmismyon1ydefence @marxy-06 @glossiable @remusjlupinisdead @amixedwitch @mattefic @artisancowbells @zzzfour — if you want to be added tap here

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter smut #james potter one shot #james potter fanfiction #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter angst #marauders fanfiction #marauders angst #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #james potter fluff #marauders fluff #marauders smut

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ikeromantic · 2 years ago

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Hello!! Good day!!! im the one who request hc on how to boys ike vamp ( with theo, napoleon, comte, issac, mozart and arthur) or ike rev (with edgar, ray, lance, jonah, harr and sirius) react when they meet mc's parents and ask there daugther's hands to for marriage. if its ok? Sorry in advance if its handy a request and bad english.. thank u soooo much... ❤ 😶

This one took awhile! I hope it satisfies ^_^ Approx. 1600 words with the Ikevamp boys and how they react to meeting MC's parents/asking for her hand in marriage.

Theo

Theo glanced up as Arthur slid onto the bar stool beside him. “What?”

“Hey! Can’t a guy join his friend for an afternoon drink?” Arthur’s grin was wide and comically innocent.

The ice in Theo’s eyes as he knocked back the rest of his whiskey was all the reply Doyle would get. Theo didn’t have the patience today to deal with jibes, good natured or otherwise. He motioned to the bartender for a refill.

“Not to be a buzzkill, old boy, but are you sure you should keep drinking? Aren’t you meeting with -”

“Shut up.” Theo spoke slowly, his voice flat and inflectionless. “Go away.”

Arthur chuckled. “What a mood you’re in. Why . . . one might even mistake your churlishness for fear. Not me, of course. But someone could.”

Theo felt his teeth scrape as his jaw tightened. He didn’t need to justify himself. Not to Doyle.

A few minutes of blessed silence passed when the bartender delivered their drinks. The whiskey burned down Theo’s throat and set coals ablaze in his belly. The familiar sensation didn’t come with the longed for release though. His shoulders were tense and his chest constricted. He sighed in defeat and stood. “Come on.”

Arthur got up and followed him out of the tavern. “If you’re wondering, they’re at the Louvre.”

“I know,” Theo straightened his shoulders.

Arthur clapped him on the arm. “They’re going to adore you, old boy.”

Theo raised an eyebrow.

“And if not, we’ll just throw Vincent at them and let him win them over with his innocent charm, right?” Arthur laughed.

“Right.” Theo cracked his first smile of the night, some of his tension leaking out. “Move it, Doyle. We’re late.”

His friend hurried after him, grinning.

Napoleon

Napoleon wore a relaxed smile, confident his charm would win the day. He held his fiancée’s hand, sharing his certainty with her. Her fingers clutched his tightly. Across from them sat a forbidding man with an unreadable expression, and a woman with a strict face.

If he had not known they were her mother and father, he never would have guessed. They had none of her sweetness, only a distant, hard affection that showed itself in the interrogation of their daughter. ‘How are you,’ they asked, before ‘Where have you been?’ and that was proof enough, even if there wasn’t the hint of a smile on either face.

They’d agreed not to mention time travel, or to say a word about who he really was. Meeting them like this, in a sidewalk cafe of modern day Paris, he understood why. There was no way her parents were fanciful enough to believe such a story, no matter how true it was.

After she introduced him and answered their rapid fire questions, both gazes turned to him. “It seems our daughter has grown close to you,” her father said, his eyebrow twitching slightly. “Thank you for keeping an eye on her for us.”

“You’re welcome, of course. It was nothing.” He squeezed her hand reassuringly beneath the table. “I look forward to caring for her for many years to come.”

The twitching eyebrow rose. “Unnecessary. We’ll be taking your leave this evening. It’s time for our little girl to come home.”

“Dad, No. I didn’t ask you to come see me so you could drag me back. I wanted you to meet Napoleone. Because I - I’m in love with him.”

Her mother shook her head, lips pressed together in a firm, thin line. “Of course you think that. Months of no real work, no responsibilities. Being romanced by some Frenchman. But my dear, you must come back to reality.”

“With all due respect, madame, your daughter has worked hard in her time here. And our relationship, though short, has been thoroughly tried. I love her.” He lifted his chin. “I would like to ask your blessing to marry her.”

“Why do you want to marry her? To what end?” Her father’s brows were lowered now, and he clenched his hand into a fist where it lay on the table.

Napoleon smiled and glanced at his beloved. His silly, precious nunuche. The woman that filled every day with her light. “It is my wish to love her alone, to make her happy, to do nothing which would contradict her wishes. This is my destiny and the meaning of my life.”

Le Comte

“Monsieur, Mademoiselle, welcome!” Le Comte swept a polite bow as the curious couple passed the threshold. Their curious eyes took in the space, clearly overwhelmed. As well they should be.

The home and everything in it were purchased entirely for this meeting. Each detail calculated for impact, every impression accounted for. He would marry his cherie, and because it was important to her, he would have her parents’ approval.

“Mom! Dad!” She hurried from the sitting room into the entrance hall and threw her arms around each of them. “I missed you so much!”

They hugged her back, tears in their eyes. “We were so worried,” sighed her mother, voice thick with relief.

She pulled them to the sitting room, apologies interspersed with an abridged narrative of her two months away from home.

Le Comte followed, a wistful smile on his face. He could see his beauty reflected in the faces of her parents. Her father’s kind eyes and smiling mouth, her mother’s steely spirit and delicate brow. He felt almost as if he already knew them.

They would say yes, he thought, and not because of his artful persuasion. They would let him marry their little girl because he brought her joy.

Isaac

“I don’t want to go.” Isaac knew he looked like a pouting child as he crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, but he didn’t care.

“We can’t just leave my parents waiting for us at the cafe.” His fiancée sighed. Then she sat down across from him and leaned her head against the back of the chair.

He knew she was right, of course. They would have to go. It was just . . . in his mind’s eye, meeting her parents turned into a disaster in every instance he could imagine. He might say something that offended them. Or stumble over his words and sound like a fool. Or worse yet, find himself completely tongue-tied and unable to say a word, anything that might convince them to let him marry their daughter. Then what?

“I . . . I don’t want to mess this up,” Isaac finally said, admitting to his worries aloud. “What if I say the wrong thing? Or nothing at all? Or what if I say all the right things and they don’t believe me?”

She tilted her head so that she could look him in the eye. “Do you think I will love you less if any of that happens?”

A slight flush rose in his cheeks as he shook his head.

“Then the worst that could happen isn’t so bad, right?” She smiled.

That smile reminded Isaac of all the stolen moments they’d shared. The quick kisses traded in passing. Little whispered promises. The long nights spent sweetly, mapping each others’ pleasures. All of that would still be there for them, no matter what happened today. “Alright. Let’s go then.”

Mozart

Mozart’s hand shook as he pulled his hair back into a queue. He examined his collar, the lay of his vest against his chest. He looked perfect. The exact image of a gentleman. Yet knowing that didn’t reassure him at all.

“Your hair. It’s different.” Jean looked in on him, his one visible brow raised.

“Yes.” Mozart replied stiffly.

Jean’s lips twitched into a small smile. “It looks very good.”

“Well . . . let’s go. They’re waiting.” He felt slightly better for the compliment but his nerves were still jangling, his shoulders tight. The only relief would be getting it over with.

The two men made their way to the parlor. At the door, Mozart paused. Jean set his hand on his shoulder, and together, they shared a breath. Then Mozart pushed the door open.

“Wolf!” His lover’s smile washed away his anxiety as the summer sun chased away the gloom of a storm. “This is my mother,” she gestured to a woman who’s resemblance to her was clear. “And my father.” The man stood and held out his hand.

Mozart took a breath and with a smile, introduced himself. He shook hands with the father of his beloved, and felt not a twinge of his usual disgust as that hand enveloped his own. Though they’d only just met, he felt connected to them. As if they were . . . family.

Arthur

Arthur stubbed out the hand-rolled cigarette. He wasn’t normally a smoker, but he’d needed something - anything - to steady his nerves. To quiet the voice in the back of his mind that kept insisting he wasn’t good enough. It didn’t matter, he told himself, because she’d chosen him. She loved him.

The balcony door swung open and Sebas poked his head out. “They’re waiting for you in the parlor, if you’re ready.”

“Of course I’m ready.” He pushed off the rail. Arthur adjusted his jacket and ran a hand through his hair. “Nothing to it, right? Just going to tell the skirt’s parents I’m marrying her and that’s . . . that. Right?”

“Right,” Sebas nodded with the hint of a smile. “But maybe, don’t call her a skirt in there.”

“Yeah. Yes. Right.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose we could knock back a drink or two first?”

“Not a good idea, sir.” Sebastian held the door as he came through it.

Arthur nodded. “You’re right, old boy. Let’s just . . . get this over with.” He straightened his back and squared his shoulders like a man headed into battle.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp le comte #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp arthur #ask box reply #fanfiction #fanfic #otome #otome guys #fluff

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lesbianjunimo · 4 years ago

Text

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?)

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~”

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams.

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that.

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way.

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism.

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?”

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on.

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process.

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care.

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet.

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention.

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram.

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place.

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly.

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

#IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FINALLY WRITTEN THIS #obey me #my writing #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #posts

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