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xdirtyxlittlexgirl · 2 years ago

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Hi! Could I request a Henry cavill story? Where reader meets him while he’s in town shooting for his new movie but she doesn’t recognize him at all and doesn’t know he is kind of in a relationship but that it is rocky. But yet somehow they end up together!!

Just Find Me (Part 1)

Pairing: Henry Cavill X Reader

Summary: You have a chance encounter with Henry Cavill during your travels in Italy

Warning: Very fluffy, emotional, love, angsty

You are a writer travelling through the small towns of Italy to find inspiration for your book. You've been visiting different places, trying to capture the essence of each town and its people. Finding heart wrenching love stories from these small hamlets, just like your grandparents' is your sole mission right now. Today, you find yourself in a small restaurant surrounded by vineyards in the picturesque town of Montalcino.

As you peruse to the wine cellar, you can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by the extensive selection. You're known to be fussy about your wine choices, always looking for the perfect blend. Lost in your thoughts, you're jolted back to reality by a deep, smooth voice behind you.

"Can I help you with something?" You turn around and find yourself face to face with a tall, robust, and handsome man. He's leaning against the door frame, looking at you with a charming smile. He cannot be a waiter, you think. But it's Italy. Anything is possible. You're taken aback by his beauty, but you can't quite place where you've seen him before, because he does look so familiar.

"I'm just looking for the perfect wine," you reply, trying to regain your composure. He chuckles and you just stare at him, admiring the oaky scent and curly hair. "Well, that's a tall order. Let me help you out." You watch as he strides confidently towards you, his eyes scanning the shelves of bottles, as you lose yourself in his scent. He picks one out and holds it up to the light. "This one is a number," he says. "It's a blend of Sangiovese and Cabernet Sauvignon. It's bold, full-bodied, with hints of dark cherry and blackberry. It's perfect for a day like today." You take the bottle from him, studying it. "Thank you, it sounds perfect." you say blushing as you adored the man and also the knowledge he had of wines.

He nods, his blue eyes twinkling. "My pleasure. I'm Henry, by the way." You shake his outstretched hand. "I'm (y/n). Nice to meet you." That's when the sudden realisation dawned upon you. It is infact Henry Cavill. The guy who plays Superman and the Witcher. Wow. You try to act cool, not wanting to make a big deal out of it but you can feel your knees giving up. Just when you were about to make a total fool of yourself and ask him for a picture, his voice cut through your rumbled thoughts. "If I'm not bothering you too much, would you like to join me?" He asked and you blushed. "It would be a shame to drink a fine bottle like that alone." He adds cheekily as you chuckle and nods. He leads you outside as you quickly head to your table to collect your things, and then go up to him, where he takes you to his table pulling a chair out for you, as he then takes a seat himself in front of you. You place your things there which also includes a vintage looking diary and a pen, and you could see the curiosity in his eyes.

"So, what brings you to Montepulciano?" He asks as he pours some wine for yourself before pouring some for him. "I'm a writer," you tell him swirling your glass of wine, smiling at him as a thank you for pouring the drink. "I'm here to find inspiration for my book." you add as he looks at you intently. "Ah, a writer," he says, swirling his own glass of wine. "That's fascinating. What kind of book are you working on?" he adds taking a sip of that delicious wine. "It's an anthology based on love stories from across Italy," you reply. He nods thoughtfully. "Sounds interesting. I'm sure there are plenty of stories to be told here," he smiles as you blush a little. "Well thank you, I hope so too. What beings you here?"you ask stressing on the 'you' part because it's not normal to find a celebrity like himself, wandering around the streets like that. "Just taking a little vacation," he replies with a small smile, which looked half convincing, but you didn't know him enough to ask more about it. "It's nice to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city, you know?" You nod, understanding the sentiment. You both chat about your respective work, your love for writing, and your passion for exploring new places. You can't help but feel drawn to him, his easy charm and infectious laugh.

As you both sip on the wine, you realize that it is indeed perfect. The boldness of the Cabernet Sauvignon perfectly balances the fruity notes of the Sangiovese. You're impressed with his wine knowledge and you end up asking him. "This wine is actually perfect, and I thought 'I' knew all the fancy wines." you add chuckling and take a sip again, almost moaning at the taste. "Thank you, I just thought it'd be perfect for you." he adds smiling at you. "Are you a sommelier or something?"you asked surprised to see his extensive wine knowledge. He laughs in response and then softly adds, "No, just a wine enthusiast. I've learned a thing or two over the years. All thanks to the extensive traveling." "Ah my grandfather had a vineyard. So, that's why I'm a bit of a wine snob," you share. He chuckles but then looks impressed. "That's amazing. Maybe we can explore some more vineyards together," he suggests. You smile, liking the idea of spending more time with him. You both start taking a walk along the vineyard.

As you both sipped on the delicious wine, the conversation flowed easily between you and Henry. You found yourself sharing stories of your travels through the small towns of Italy and the interesting people you met along the way. He shared his own experiences shooting movies in Rome and Florence, and how he chose to visit the small towns to take a break from the hustle and bustle of the city.

"I've always been drawn to the great outdoors," Henry said as he gestured towards the stunning vineyards around you. "There's something about the fresh air and the natural beauty that just makes me feel alive." You nodded in agreement, taking in the breathtaking views around you. The sun was starting to set, casting a golden hue over the rolling hills and the vineyards. It was the kind of moment that made you feel like time was standing still, and you were content to just enjoy the present.

"I couldn't agree more," you said with a smile. "I've been looking for inspiration for my book, and I've found that the small towns of Italy have given me so much to work with. The people, the culture, the stories... it's all so rich and fascinating..." Henry nodded, taking another sip of his wine as you both leaned on the balcony, enjoying the view. "Speaking of stories, have you come across any interesting ones in your travels?"

You thought for a moment, then remembered the old couple you had met during your time in Florence. "Actually, there was one couple that really stood out to me. They had been married for over 50 years now and had the most beautiful love story. It was definitely something out of a fairytale." Henry leaned in, clearly intrigued. "Tell me more." And so you told him about the couple - how they had met in the same vineyard where you were sitting now, and how they had fallen in love at first sight. They moved to Florence, got married, and had a huge family. You described the way they still held hands and whispered sweet nothings to each other after all these years, and how they had overcome every obstacle life had thrown their way.

Henry listened intently, his eyes locked on yours as you spoke. "Wow," he said when you finished. "That's the kind of love story that movies are made of." You nodded and chuckled. "That's the kind of love I seek... Speaking of movies, I have to tell you. I am a huge fan of the Night Hunter, and The Man from Uncle. I love thriller movies. I also loved watching the Witcher." You tell him with a shy smile not wanting to sound like a fangirl as he smiled. "Thank you, I love thrillers myself. I always look for stories while selecting a film, more than my character." he explained and you heard him intently, as you could feel the passion he had for his job with every word he spoke. At one point, Henry leaned in closer to you, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and you almost lost your breath. "You know, (y/n), you're really something special. It's not often that I meet someone who's as passionate and driven as you are."

You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment, but before you could respond, Henry spoke again. "Listen, I don't want this night to end just yet. Would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner?" You looked at him, feeling a flutter in your stomach. The thought of spending more time with him was thrilling, but at the same time, you were hesitant. You didn't want to get your hopes up or read too much into the invitation. But then Henry smiled at you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. "I promise, it'll be a night to remember, plus it's just a matter of a few hours." he says with a chuckle pointing at the sky which is adorned in the shades of dusk, hinting the arrival of the nightfall. You chukle and shake your head a little. With those words, you knew you couldn't say no. So you smiled back at him and nodded, feeling a sense of excitement and anticipation building inside you. This was just the beginning of a beautiful adventure, and you were ready to see where it would take you, but you didn't want to be hopeful. You knew better than to get lost in a moment and hurt yourself for years to come, but for the first time in ages, you enjoyed this bittersweetness. It felt weirdly right.

As you both exit the vineyard, you start to take a walk around the beautiful town. As you both round a corner, he leads you into a small courtyard with a fountain in the center. Henry takes your hand and leads you to a bench near the fountain. "It's breathtaking..." you say gazing at the beautiful surroundings as you sit next to him. You both sit in a comfortable silence, the sound of the water trickling in the background. You look at him and feel your heart skip a beat. You can't believe you were here, in Italy, with Henry Cavill. It feels like a dream. You just sat there watching people stroll by. The sun is setting, and the sky is painted in shades of orange and pink. You can feel his gaze on you, but you try to ignore it.

Suddenly, he breaks the silence and asks you, "So, are you single or dating?" You take a deep breath, unsure by the sudden question, but tell him the truth, "I'm single, and I have been my whole life. I don't believe in wasting my time and emotions on anyone who isn't the perfect fit for me." He looks fascinated by your response, and you can't help but wonder what he's thinking. You decide to ask him about himself, hoping that he's single, but also knowing that it's highly unlikely. He hesitates for a moment before finally opening up to you, "I've been dating someone for over a year now. It started as a PR stunt, but my managers thought it could work out. She's not my type at all, but now it's been too long, and I've kind of accepted my fate. You know I'm comfortable in that relationship, but I guess, I'm not happy. That's actually the reason I needed this vacation so badly. I needed to put things into perspective and figure out what I want. I do not want to hurt anyone in the process"

Your heart sinks as he tells you this, but you know better than to let yourself get hurt. It was never meant to be. This wasn't a fairytale and you had controlled your emotions just enough to not fall for it. You offer him a consoling smile. "I believe that everything happens for a reason and that what's meant for you will find you when the time is right. Maybe this vacation is the perfect opportunity for you to figure things out and find what you truly want."you tell him gently placing your hand on his for a second. He nods his head, "You know, you're right. Maybe it is time for me to put myself first and figure out what I truly want. Thank you for listening to me and giving me some perspective." You smile and tell him, "Of course, that's what friends are for, right?"He nods and looks at you with a raised eyebrow, and then sighs, "Yeah, friends." You look at him just for a second before looking away. This between the two of you felt perfect. It was as if you had known him for years. He felt the same too. He was heard by someone truly in a long time, but this wasn't practical, this couldn't ever be real. As much as you both wanted it, it was too unreal to go for it.

You both sit in silence for a moment, and you can feel the tension between you two. You know that it's best to leave things as they are, but a small part of you still wishes for something more. As the sun finally sets, he stands up and offers you his hand, "Shall we head to the restaurant? I'm starving." You smile small taking his hand, and he helps you up from the bench. As you both walk to the restaurant, you can't help but wonder what the future holds for the two of you. But for now, you're just grateful for this moment and the unexpected bond you've formed with this complete stranger.

As you step into the restaurant, you are awestruck by its grandeur. The dim lighting and elegant decor create a cozy and romantic atmosphere, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest. You follow Henry to your table, admiring the beautiful surroundings as you go.

Henry pulls the chair for you, and then sits across from you. Once seated, he glances at you with a charming smile and looks at you. "Do you like the place? I found it yesterday while taking my lone wolf walk in the middle of the night." he asks chuckling as you look around in awe and nod. "It's amazing Henry. Thank you so much for bringing me here.". "Pleasure is all mine my lady." he says as you chuckle. You were definitely a fan of this man's manners.

"Wine?" he looks at you with a raised eyebrow and you nod. He loved how he had you all blushing with the slightest of gestures. It was just challenging him to explore you further. He swiftly calls for the waiter, leaning towards him, as he stood attentively at the side of the table, ready to take the order. "Scusi, posso avere la bottiglia di Barolo Riserva, per favore?" (Excuse me, can I have a bottle of Barolo Riserva, please?) "Naturalmente, signore," the waiter replied with a nod. (Of course, sir.)

Henry continued, "Ma, prima, potrebbe farmi assaggiare un po' per assicurarmi che la signorina sia soddisfatta?" (But first, could you let me taste it a little bit to make sure the lady will be satisfied?) The waiter smiled knowingly, nodded and brought the bottle, pouring a small amount of wine into Henry's glass. He was not bad in Italian but he wasn't fluent, and he didn't know you knew it well. You bit back your chuckle as you played along and saw Henry take the lead. He swirled the wine around and took a deep sniff of the aroma before finally taking a sip. He closed his eyes, savouring the taste, before giving the waiter a satisfied nod.

"Sì, è perfetto. Questo impressionerà sicuramente la signora qui." (Yes, it's perfect. This will surely impress the lady here.) The waiter nodded and smiled, "La sua signora deve essere molto fortunata." (Your lady must be very lucky.) Henry grinned at the waiter, looked at you, and then winked at him, "Sì, lo è, ma sono pi�� fortunato a stare con lei." (Yes she is, but I'm luckier to be with her. He definitely didn't know you knew how to speak in Italian, and as amusing as it was, you were blushing uncomfortably at his words.

The waiter jotted down the order and left to fetch the fresh bottle of wine, leaving you both alone. You bit back your laugh as Henry looked at you intently. He was so adorable with his Italian. He leaned back in his chair, and took a deep breath, "Ah, this place is magnificent, isn't it?"

You looked around, taking in the elegant decor and the beautiful view of the city, "It truly is."He took another sip of his wine, "So, what do you love doing the most outdoors?" He asks you, as you smile wistfully, "I love star gazing. My grandpa had a little observatory close to his vineyard, and we would spend hours looking up at the sky. Or just sit in the field and fall asleep under the sky." you said your eyes twinkling at the memories of your childhood. He listened intently, "That sounds amazing. I love it too, but unfortunately, I don't get to do it very often." You chuckled, "Well, always make time for things you love. You don't want to be eighty, old, and rotting in your bed with regrets. Although, I'm sure you must have some hobbies and interests, that you made time for?."

Henry looked at you amazed. He had never met someone like you. Someone who had such a different perspective on life, and he was in awe with that. You were free, passionate, and did everything on your terms, and he almost envied that. "I do indeed. I grew up on the British channel island of Jersey, with four brothers. It was always a bit of a madhouse, but we had so much fun growing up. We would go fishing, cook, especially bake, and I make sure I bake and cook when I can. I even carry my fishing gear along, so whenever I have time, I just go for it." he adds smiling.

You leaned forward, intrigued, "Really? I love baking too. What's your favourite thing to bake?" He chuckled, "Oh, that's a tough one. I think I'd have to go with an apple pie. There's just something about the smell of cinnamon and apples baking in the oven that's so comforting. Plus it's actually a family recipe passed down through generations, so it just makes it so much more special". You smile while sipping on your wine, "That sounds delicious. Maybe you'll have to bake me one someday." His eyes sparkled mischievously, "Oh, I could definitely do that. But only if you promise to bake me something too." You laughed and nodded, "Deal."

Your conversation was interrupted as the waiter came again to take your food orders and you looked at Henry. "What do you want to have?" you asked him as he looked a little confused while looking at the menu. "Okay, I'll let you choose this one. Surprise me." he said and you chuckled seeing how adorable he looked skimming through the menu. You nod and looks at the waiter. "Buonasera. Vorrei un'insalata mista con formaggio di capra e il risotto ai funghi porcini per me, per favore. (Good evening. I would like a salad with goat cheese and the porcini mushroom risotto for me, please.) He smiles and notes it down. "Perfetto. E per il signore?"(Perfect. And for the gentleman?) he asks smiling. There's an obvious shock on Henry's face but you chose to ignore it.

"La stessa insalata come me e un Osso Buco per lui per favore" (The same salad as me, and a Osso Buco for him please). "Certamente, mia signora. Qualcosa altro? (Certainly, my lady. Anything else?) The waiter asks politely.

"No, niente altro, grazie." (No, nothing else, thank you.) you reply smiling and then turn to face Henry. He looked at you in surprise, "Wow, (y/n), your Italian is amazing. How did you learn it so well?" You chuckled and chugged your wine, as he leaned in to refill your glass, "My grandma was Italian, actually. She was from Palmanova, and met my grandad while he was studying here. That's why when they married, my grandad opened a vineyard for her back home, so she could feel at 'home'."

Henry listened intently, "That's such a sweet love story. That's the kind of love I want for myself." That put you in thought. How he was so like you but so different at the same time. You both were perfect for each other in theory, but was it the same for the reality? You chucked away the question, trying to focus on what you have right now, and not ruin anything by overthinking it. Soon your plates arrived and he was pretty happy with your selection of dishes.

"Why did you become an actor?" you ask him, dissecting your salad. He hesitates for a moment before answering. "I always loved the idea of acting, but what really pushed me was the bullying I faced in school. People used to call me 'Fat Cavill', and it really affected me. But it also gave me motivation to work on myself and become the best version of me. You know, I wanted to show them what I could do..." Your heart aches for him, and you unconsciously reach for his hand. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Hen. But I'm glad it led you to where you are today." He smiles at you, squeezing your hand. "Thank you. It means a lot. I haven't really ever talked about it with anyone in depth. This feels good." You smile feeling happy that he felt comfortable enough to share that with you.

As you finish your dinner and wine, Henry looks a little stressed, like he wants to ask something, plus he had been distracted with his phone from the last half hour. He looks hesitant, but as you both are winding up, he finds some courage and blurts out. "There's somewhere I want to take you, something special. I mean if you have time, I promise it'll be worthwhile." he says, his eyes sparkling. You nod eagerly, unable to resist the allure of his charm and to the thought of spending more time with him. Lowkey you were manifesting more time with him. "Lead the way," you say, smiling as his smile grows with yours. He was feeling a weird need to be with you, like everything in him wanted to buy as much time with you as he could, and nonetheless, you felt it too.

Once you both exit the restaurant, he gently keeps a hand on your back and guides you through the small streets of Montalcino. He finally brings you to a solitary space and then gently leans in to speak close to your ear. "You need to close your eyes signora." You look at him a little surprised but then he gives you a soft smile and you couldn't help but blush. As you close your eyes, you feel Henry's hand gently guide you towards a quiet spot. You feel your heart racing with anticipation as you wonder what he has in store for you. Finally, you feel him help you sit down, on what feels like a plushy surface, and you stay still, eyes closed, feeling his warmth beside you. You trust him completely, and you know that whatever he has planned will be special. It's weird and uncanny how you could trust him so easily, but it felt right in your bones.

____

Part 2

A/N: Please leave your feedback. What are your thoughts about turning this into a series? You want to see more parts of this? Requests open.

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year ago

Text

Lost & Found - Chapter Three.

Surprise! I thought I’d treat you all to an off the cuff update as a little thank you for your readership. You’ve all made me feel confident again in the wake of having that confidence take a knock, so yeah, here you go. It’ll move the story along a little more, too. There’ll still be an update on Friday as well, but for now, enjoy :)

Previous chapters - One Two

Words - 3,516

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse in the coming chapters.

They pulled into a gas station a little further along in their journey, Bottles exiting to fill up with gas and Guero shifting to climb out over the driver’s side, telling her he wouldn’t be long. Her eyes fixed upon him, her heart beginning to jackrabbit in her chest. He’d made her feel safe as she’d curled into him, and now he was moving away from her. Her demeanour took on that of a meerkat, positioned sharply upright, scanning the small building he’d walked into, her nerves demanding she keep him in her eye line.

Swallowing nervously, she blinked rapidly, her throat tightening when he moved out of her view, her body going rigid once more when Bottles opened up the door. His eyes scanned her, his face kind in what she could see from her peripheral vision, still focusing on Guero’s movements. Seeing him emerge again, she began to settle.

“I had no idea what you liked, so I got a little of everything.” Gesturing to the brown paper bag he held, he dipped the edge with his finger, revealing it to be full of snack foods. He pulled three packaged sandwiches from the top, throwing one at bottles, holding up the other two. “Chicken or ham?”

She pointed to the ham one. “That’s some cosmic shit right there,” he smiled, gesturing to the chicken. “I wanted this one.” He placed the bag down at his feet, pulling his seatbelt back on as Emma opened the package, pulling out the sub style sandwich and taking a bite.

It might have been on slightly tough bread, the salad a little wilted, but for her it was as good as a gourmet meal after three weeks of protein bars. The mustard and smoky flavour of the ham mingled upon her tongue, her tastebuds tingling, closing her eyes with a look of bliss. Food. God, she’d missed it.

They ate in silence for the duration of the journey, all sharing from the large bag of cheese Ruffles also purchased, Emma thinking that chips had truly never tasted so good as she crunched through each mouthful, washing them down with the provided small bottle of cherry Coke. He wasn’t to know it was her favourite drink in the entire world either, yet it was the one he had chosen in from the array of sodas on offer.

The cool, sugary carbon refreshed her mouth, which was fuzzy and grimy in feel after three weeks of no dental hygiene. No hygiene at all to speak of, in fact. She knew she stank, yet Guero quite happily let her settle against him again without fuss. She felt a little bad for that, especially when he smelled so good, leather, soap and a faint trace of cologne.

While leaning against him, she watched as the freeway began to become sparser of surroundings, the dessert landscape taking over as Bottles turned off, a large sign upon the highway they exited onto coming into view. Santo Padre. It was reassuring, seeing the sign matched where Bishop had stated they would be taking her.

The town was small, not as suburban as what she was used to, although back in her old life she’d scarcely had the freedom that meant she could move around Staten Island, the place that had become her home. Less home, more prison, she often surmised.

The van moved through the quiet streets, weaving around until it finally came to a large gate, the signage denoting the location to be Romero Brothers Scrap. A smaller sign beneath it read Losa Motorcycle repair, yet another statement to ring true, Emma remembering that Guero had told her it was the location Bishop’s wife ran her shop from. The convoy came to a halt, someone jogging to open the gate, EZ riding through, the van following.

Her eyes took everything in as they drove through the wide passage between old piles of iron and steel, piles upon piles of metal twisted and stacked, crushed cars jutting into the horizon before a second gate came into view. This one was opened from the inside, a woman dressed casually in sweats and a vest standing back as she swung it open, her slender arms decorated plentifully with colourful tattoos.

They pulled up a little way from a wooden building, the lights casting a soft, yellow glow out into the darkness of the early morning, Bottles jumping out, going over to a few of the guys who had parked up their bikes, Emma taking in her surroundings with widened eyes. Caution began to wind through her again, Guero feeling her starting to stiffen, watching her bring her thumb to her mouth and chew.

“That’s the clubhouse,” he pointed, his finger then moving to the woman who had opened the gate, positioned on the step. “And that’s Lee. You ready to get out?”

She felt fragile and foolish to suddenly experience another attack of nerves, especially when everything she’d been promised had rung true, her eyes finding the slender blonde woman, watching her wave lackadaisically. Her trembles started up once more, Guero softly sighing through his nose, climbing out over the driver’s seat and walking around the front of the van to the passenger side, opening the door.

He held out his hands, the warmth of his smile creasing his eyes. “Come on, blue eyes. It’s okay.” She froze for a few moments, taking deep breaths before turning, taking his hands. The appearance of a large, bald man walking behind where Guero was stood made her eyes round, her safety person turning.

“That’s Gilly.” The big man smiled as he continued, figuring he’d probably do more harm than good if he lingered, the girl still looking perturbed. Once he’d gone, she didn’t immediately calm, her eyes darting all around, the sounds of people talking and laughing a little overloading to her senses, eventually reaching for Guero. Safety person. All was well if he was near.

She reached past his hands, gripping onto his shoulders as she slid from the van, Guero clasping her waist as he lifted her, surprised when she wrapped her legs around him. He could handle carrying her, she weighed virtually nothing at all, her frame slight although she was quite tall, shutting the van and carrying her over to where Lee was waiting.

“Morning,” she grumbled, yawning. “So, this is Emma, right?”

“Yeah. She’s a little freaked out still,” Guero commented, Lee nodding.

“’Sup, Emma? You okay, you alright?” Three questions. It was another little touchback to something she’d been told ringing true. “I’m set up in templo, figured it’d be best. The old man said she was kinda scared.” Lee continued with, opening the clubhouse door, Emma clinging on tighter as she was carried into the new space. It was shabby but cozy, wooden furniture that didn’t match clustered around tables, a few couches and a small bar area.

It smelled strongly of cigarettes and alcohol, Emma lowering her face to Guero’s collar, his scent filling her nose, finding familiar comfort again quickly. She was carried down a narrow passage, Lee sliding open a stained-glass door, leading to a narrow room with a large table in the centre, Guero closing the door behind him, seating her atop that table and standing back. Immediately, she scrambled to reach for him.

“I’m not leaving you, it’s alright. Hey, calm down,” he soothed her with, jumping up onto the table beside her, his wallet chain clattering against the wood. “I’ll stay right here if you like.” She nodded, trembling softly, turning to view Lee arranging a few items she’d laid out, looking up with a small smile.

“You ready for me to take a look at you?” She nodded, her hand reaching to clasp Guero’s, still a little scared. “Alrighty. I’m gonna touch your head, make sure you don’t have any other bumps anywhere, then shine a light in your eyes. Need to check for concussion.”

Back when she’d been in active service and dealt with injured troops, especially those who had been traumatised by the horrors of war and slid into a state of shock, Lee had found that talking them through an examination process had made it much easier for them, applying those techniques to the young woman sitting before her.

Although kind, Lee knew she could lack a little warmth in her demeanour at times, her military background moulding her into a strong, formidable woman. She was practical and pragmatic before she was anything else, but understood when sensitivity was needed.

Slowly, she reached for Emma’s head, checking for bumps before picking up a small torch. “Gotta shine this in your eyes, check how your pupils react.” The light beamed in, Lee studying her carefully. “Follow my finger.” Emma did as instructed, beginning to calm down a little. Things were adding up, she was being examined, just as she was told would happen. It was okay. She was safe.

Lee nodded, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. “No concussion, but this cut is fuckin’ savage as fuck. Gonna clean it up and then spray it with ethyl chloride, so it’ll numb the skin, alrighty?” She was met by a small nod, Lee picking up a bottle of antiseptic and decanting it onto some cotton pads. “It’s gonna fuckin’ sting, deep breath.”

The antiseptic seeped into her wound, making her hiss softly, her clutch on Guero’s hand tightening. He clasped it between his, the warmth of his skin soothing, taking her mind off the sharp burning upon her forehead. Once the wound was clean, Lee picked up a clear bottle, beginning to carefully spray it around the broken skin as she gently blew, shielding Emma’s eye with her hand. A cooling sensation chilled her forehead until she felt nothing at all, Lee then prepping a needle.

“My stiches are nothing short of perfect, but it’s gonna leave a small scar, sadly,” Lee spoke as she began to stitch, her brow creasing with concentration. “Dunno if you’ve heard of it, but there’s something called Bio-Oil you can put on it that’ll help lessen the scar once it’s healed. These stitches aren’t dissolvable either, so you’ll need to find someplace to have them taken out in two weeks once you’ve healed. They’ll itch, but try not to touch the wound, just keep it clean to prevent infection.”

“Okay.” Emma replied, her eyes moving to her side, watching Guero.

“You doing alright?”

Her lips thinned into a shy smile. “Mmhm. Thanks f-for looking after m-me.”

His fingers squeezed softly on hers. “You’re welcome.”

Lee finished her stitching in impressive timing, removing her gloves and beginning to pack away her medical kit again. “All done. Do you have someplace you can go, family, friends out here? You look dehydrated and I’d guess a little malnourished, too. You need to go someplace safe and recover from your journey. Is there anybody we can call for you, you got a number, a name?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, well you’re welcome at Casa Losa. We have a spare room if you need it?”

Immediately, she curled into Guero, Lee reading the situation. She’d obviously somewhat imprinted upon him, not willing to think of an alternative to staying by his side. Trauma. Whatever the hell had gone on in that shipping crate that led to her injuries, or perhaps more accurately, the life she’d been so desperate to flee from as a stowaway within it, Lee knew lingering trauma when she saw it. “Alrighty, sugar. You wanna stay with him, I get it.”

Her eyes searched his, Guero nodding. “Yeah, come crash at my place. It’s cool.” Instantly, she relaxed again.

With a nod and a small smile, Lee left the room, seeking out her husband at the bar, her arms sliding around his waist as she kissed his cheek.

“How’s the girl?” EZ asked, sliding from his seat to arrive at her side.

“Stitched, but she’s really fuckin’ bent out of shape mentally. Starting to calm down, but she’s panicked. Bishop told me you were bringing her back because you wanted answers over who stole your cash. Well, you ain’t fuckin’ getting them tonight, Ezekiel.”

The president gave her a slightly incredulous look. “That’s not down to you to decide, Lee.”

She straightened, lifting her chin. “While I’m the person who gets called upon at all hours to pull bullets out of y’all, stitch you up, fix your fuckin’ bike dings and generally be a mother hen to this MC, then you better fuckin’ believe I’m deciding it. Not happening, ain’t gonna be tonight, no fuckin’ way.” Pausing she jerked her thumb back in the direction of templo, her eyes fixed upon his.

“That poor girl has been through enough; she doesn’t need you interrogating her when she can’t even string more than about five fuckin’ stammered words together right now. The docks have CCTV, so if you so desperately wanna find out who stung you guys, I’d get on the phone to the guards who Don fuckin’ Lombardi is greasing the palms of to send you the footage. She’ll talk when she’s fuckin’ ready.”

Her eyes lingered upon him as she leaned to her husband, kissing his cheek again. “You better hurry up home and fuck me until I fall asleep.” She marched from the clubhouse, Bishop grunting a small laugh, turning to EZ.

“Come on, mano,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You know if there’s one person you can’t give orders to, it’s my wife. She has a point, too. Call the guard now, before the footage gets erased.” Every single base was covered in the operation, including any footage of the MC delivering to the container. They had to act fast, having no idea how close to their arrival the robbery took place, Bishop not wanting to chance the footage of the perpetrators ending up being deleted as well.

EZ nodded, taking his phone out and leaving the clubhouse in order to do just that, tired from the events of the night and still quietly burning with fury over the theft. Meanwhile, back in templo, Emma sat quietly, having heard Lee’s words to EZ, feeling relieved that the pressure was off her and she wasn’t about to be interrogated.

“Can you...c-can you do me a, a favour?” she stammered tentatively, Guero sliding off the table to stand in front of her. He nodded, Emma continuing. “D-don’t tell anybody that you found me in, in that container, especially n-not the man who you were offloading heroin for. Rocco Lombardi can n-never know where I am.”

Her stuttered speech was a clear indicator of who she was truly the most frightened of, the mob boss himself, Guero wondering what a young woman, probably around his age, had done to warrant the need to vanish from the jaws of the mafia.

“Don’t worry nobody is gonna say shit. I doubt EZ is gonna wanna bring light to any of this.” He knew his president well, and he knew that the man they were running heroin for was an executor of seamless operations the likes of which EZ had promised. Although finding a stowaway in a container and their payment gone wasn’t anything that would affect Lombari personally, snags in the plan always raised doubt, and they needed this alliance way too much to risk it.

Guero paused, stuck in indecision for a moment whether to ask her what was on his mind, the question slipping out before he’d truly had chance to weigh up whether he should. “I gotta ask, though, is it him you were running from, or the mafia in general, why we found you in that container?”

She tensed visibly, her gaze dropping to the floor, a quiver ripping through her. No. He definitely shouldn’t have. “I’m sorry. Tell me when you’re ready, or not at all. Isn’t really any of my business.”

No expectations to reveal her inner trauma, no pushing, only kindness. Kindness, and the offer a place to stay. A safe place with her safe person. Her insides heaved a sigh of relief. “Can we leave now?”

He nodded, taking her hands in his. “Yeah. Let me go get the van keys from Bottles, grab your backpack and snack bag.” He’d intended for her to wait in templo for him, but predictably as soon as he’d taken a step back, she followed. Pressing herself close at his side, she hugged onto his thick arm as they walked through the clubhouse, finding Bottles behind the bar, Guero making a motion with his hand that indicated a turning key. With those very items tossed into his neat catch, they departed.

“Heading home, prez,” Guero spoke on his way out, pausing at seeing the thunderous expression on EZ’s face.

“Yeah, alright.” His jaw was tight, each word practically bitten into as they left his mouth. Guero knew that mood, knowing it was best to leave him to simmer down, Emma falling into step at his side before suddenly slowing, turning back look upon to the agitated president. He might’ve terrified her, but he hadn’t lied to her. That deserved some kind of reward.

Releasing her hold on Guero’s arm, she walked back up the steps, tucking her hair behind her ear meekly, EZ’s glance fixing upon her. Her heart jumped, swallowing the little fearful lump in her throat. “I heard w-what Lee suggested, about the CCTV. You won’t f-find any, because it was an inside job. The guys who robbed your c-cash were two of the dock security guards.”

Her nervously stammered words matched the cause of his ire, being told exactly that on the phone not five minutes before. Something stuck out for him, though. “Why'd they just knock you out and leave you there, though? You'd witnessed it, could easily tell us their identity. It doesn’t add up that they wouldn’t haul you out of there, or kill you.”

Emma shrugged, swallowing a few times. “I c-could hear motorcycle engines in the distance just before t-they hit me. They didn’t have any time. I guess they h-had to hope I wouldn’t come around before you left again. I g-guess a gun going off in a c-container is pretty loud, too.”

That tied up the loose end adequately enough. “Thank you.” Standing, he walked to the clubhouse door, swinging it open. “Bish, we gotta head out again. Gilly, Hank, you too.” He was about to stride over to his bike when Emma’s small voice halted him.

“Um, I know you’ll h-have to let him know about this, but please d-don’t tell Rocco Lombardi you f-found me in that container. Please don’t.”

He saw the pleading in her eyes clearly, considering her statement with a sniff. Truly, Lombardi didn’t need to know what they’d found, only the circumstances that had surrounded what was missing. “Alright, I promise I won’t.”

She nodded, looking at her feet before her eyes found his again. “Thank you.”

He headed down the steps with a nod, pausing for a second before he turned back. “Why, though? What did Lombardi do to you?”

She bit her lip, looking at Guero for a moment, folding her arms as her shoulders trembled and drew in. “Everything.”

EZ lifted his chin slightly, studying her uneasiness. It really didn’t have anything to do with him, and he might’ve been jumping to conclusions, but the words ‘I don’t trust him’ delivered by his VP not five months ago up in Vegas sounded through his head, turning and continuing across to his bike once more.

Walking back to Guero’s side, she clutched his arm, smiling when he shrugged her hold off to hug her gently. “That was brave, blue eyes.”

She nodded against him, letting out a sigh. “Didn’t want to make him mad.”

He didn’t really know how to reply to that, so remained silent, patting her back before walking over to the van to retrieve her stuff. After quickly running the keys back, they moved to his large, yellow and black bike, Emma being handed the spare helmet.

“You ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle before?” She shook her head. “Alright, well there’s not much to it. Just hold on tight. I won’t go so fast, though.”

Securing her backpack, she took the helmet and jammed it on, the fit a little tight due to the many tangles thickening her hair, swinging her leg over and seating herself behind him comfortably. The engine roared into life, eighteen hundred horses primed to charge as he kicked off, riding through the gate behind the others, who he guessed were San Diego bound once more.

In the space of four hours, Emma had gone from stowaway fleeing from her life, to under the care of an outlaw she barely knew. It wasn’t exactly what she’d envisaged, but then again, not having a long-term plan after fleeing the east coast, there was nothing she could match it to, expectations wise. As she clung to her safe person, she was thankful that a long last, she felt just that. Safe.

#guero mayans mc #guero mayans mc fanfiction #guero fanfiction #guero fanfic #guero smut #guero x ofc #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc smut #mayans mc season 5 #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic

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incendiorum-arch · 1 year ago

Text

azzy waits until he hears prolonged silence behind the door, and then elects to shove his way in. col doesn’t even look up from behind his desk, unbothered or distracted or both. the man in one of the other chairs, however, jolts in surprise. “ sir - ”

“ you’re done, ” azzy tells him, picking up the back of the chair and dumping him out of it. “I need the room.”

“ sir, ” the man tries again, flustered.

“ my associate told you to leave, ” col says, toneless, as he flips a pen between ink-smudged fingers. distracted, it is.

brows furrowed and mouth thin, the man leaves. azzy doesn’t bother watching him go. instead, he slams himself down into the empty chair (still warm. gross) and drapes his arms over his bouncing knees.

“ stop that, ” col tells him, finally looking up. he blinks, as if realizing who it is, and then promptly hands over a yellow legal pad with a list of names. “ they’re building a new ship. some of your handlers would like to retire permanently from the field. ”

azzy takes the pad, leans forward to grab the pen out of col’s other hand, and immediately crosses out three names. “ none of them have experience in venator, ” he explains. col just hums.

“ why are you here? ” he asks, turning his attention instead to a pair of computer monitors. azzy sits back, knee starting to bounce again. he’s gathering his thoughts, and he knows that col knows this. the sound of a mouse clicking fills the room.

“ six of my hunters are dead. ”

the clicking stops. “ six. ”

“ six, ” azzy snaps back. a cool blue gaze slides towards him, and azzy doesn’t shy away from it, even if he really, really wants to. col has a stare that could stop a bear in its tracks. “ what the fuck is with your parent lately? ”

“ io, ” col corrects. “ we aren’t related. ”

azzy rolls his eyes towards the ceiling. “ uh-huh. ”

col leans back in his chair. “ what happened? ”

leaning forward, azzy sets the notepad down, abandoning his current side-project of trying to remember everything that samwell morris currently does for the hounds (everything…? and a frowny face is scribbled in sloppy handwriting in the margin). “ I wasn’t even there. I couldn’t help them or save them or anything. ”

“ azzy, ” col says, softer.

azzy takes a deep breath and looks away, staring around the room, instead. it’s a cluttered old office, which always surprised him. col always seemed like the kind of guy to have a clean, white office with nothing in it. instead, there’s bookshelves laden with books stacked right-side up and sideways both. the cherry-wood desk is banged up and scratched and the leather cushions of the seats are so old and well-used that they seem to have permanent dips in them. there’s a ship-in-a-bottle on the desk, too. supposedly, it’s a replica of the first ship col ever bought for venator. the full-sized version still exists, somewhere, but azzy has never seen it. he stares at it now, following the curves of the gold name painted on the side with his eyes.

“ rose called me, ” azzy starts. “ she said she had iovita practically in their hands. that they were really going to do it this time. I made her go over the plan with me five times. she said it the same way every damn time. ” she had laughed the third time he had said run me through it again. and sighed heavily on the fifth. “ it sounded solid to me. I told her to go ahead. ” he looks up at col for this, and sees no change in expression. “ I tried to call her later and she answered, but I didn’t hear anything on the other side except for… noises. ”

“ what kind of noises? ”

“ I don’t know! noises! shuffling and groaning, I think. a word or two, but I couldn’t make them out. ”

col nods. “ and then? ”

azzy takes a breath. “ she called me again ten minutes later, and said she’d lost damian and nathan. throats burned out. both of them. so, iovita picked them off at some point. ”

“ evidently, ” col agrees.

azzy squints at him. col doesn’t look surprised. instead, he looks resigned, as if he already knows where this story is going. pulling the legal pad back to his side of the desk, col rips off the top page and sets it aside. in careful print, he writes the fulls names of both damian and nathan. “ was it an ‘i’ or a ‘y’ for damian’s last name? ”

“ ‘y,’ ” azzy replies. his voice sounds far away.

“ his mother is catarina. ”

“ yeah. ”

“ I’ll be in colorado next week. I’ll visit her, personally. ”

“ thank you. ”

col sets his pen down. “ alright. continue, please. ”

“ I didn’t get a call back until the next day, ” azzy says, lacing his fingers together and squeezing them so hard it hurts. “ rosa was in the hospital and barely coherent. I told her I’d fly out immediately - and I did. but by the time I got there she had already died. burn wounds, of course. ” his voice feels stuck in his throat. he swallows, but it doesn’t help. “ fuck - you should’ve seen how bad they were. I don’t know how she made it away. ”

col’s gaze is carefully blank. “ and the rest? ”

azzy gestures, vaguely, his own gaze sliding away to fix onto the corner of the desk. “ scattered across the city. found in alleyways here and there. best I can tell is that iovita led them on a chase. or… chased them, I guess. ”

he hears col lean forward, pen to paper again. “ rose, damian, nathan…? ”

azzy finishes the list for him, “ lewis, sam, and TJ. ”

col sucks air through his teeth. “ I was hoping to promote TJ. ”

“ he would have made a good handler, ” azzy agrees, voice heavy. silence falls for a moment, but he’s quick to break it. “ what the fuck was their problem this time? usually they don’t tussle with six hunters at once. my hunters, at that. ”

col gives him a look. “ and what would you do, if six witches were coming after you? ”

azzy sits back. “ I’d do my goddamn job. this isn’t iovita’s fucking job. ”

the withering glance col gives him is enough to make azzy blood boil. his voice rises.“ six of my hunters are dead, col! six! and you know who gets to tell their friends and families? do you know who gets to bury them? do you know who gets to be at every single one of their funerals? ”

col puts a hand out. “ do you really think they would have taken out io? ”

io. col always calls them io. it’s annoying. azzy grits his teeth. “ this time? yeah. yeah, they would have. ”

“ stop that, ” col’s voice carries an edge this time, “ and tell me the truth. ”

“ I’m not delusional! I really think they would have. ”

col lifts an eyebrow. when azzy doesn’t back down, he nods. “ alright. I believe you. ” he taps his fingers against the desk. call it a gut feeling, but azzy knows he doesn’t actually believe him.

and why should he? all six of azzy subordinates are dead. he knows that when he closes his eyes tonight, the police reports are going to flash behind his eyelids. every burned corpse and every unseeing pair of eyes.

azzy takes a long, slow breath. it doesn’t help. “ you’re… busy with that superpack in the states, right? ”

“ mmhm. ” col’s gaze slides towards his monitors. “ two-thirds should be gone by december, if everything moves smoothly. will you make an amendment to io’s file? make the entire thing on hold. I don’t want to lose more hunters right now. ”

“ you know some will still try, ” azzy points out.

“ I don’t want to lose more of our good hunters. ”

“ oh. ”

col doesn’t say anything else. azzy shifts in his seat, but he knows col’s dismissal when he sees it. standing up, he goes to leave.

“ azzy? ”

turning around, he sees that col has leaned sideways to fix him with a hard look. “ that means you, too. I need you. ”

“ I won’t do anything stupid, ” azzy promises. col raises an eyebrow, but says nothing else.

as he closes the door behind him, azzy pulls out his phone, scrolls through his contacts list, and taps on a name.

[ sms sent , 16:15 ] newest location for iov s?

[ sms received , 16:18 ] pending.

[ sms received , 17:21 ] one lead. will know tomorrow if good or not.

#◜❝ 𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶. ⟩⟩ a life spent talking when my epitaph would do. ❞◞#there was no reason for this to be 1400 words #◜❝ 𝙲𝙾𝙻. ⟩⟩ how did we get so dark? ❞◞#◜❝ 𝙰𝙺𝙰 𝙰𝚉𝚉𝚈. ⟩⟩ like a shotgun in a fistfight. ❞◞#anyway you know how i said i'm realizing that azzy is filled with hate? specifically towards one witch in particular?#yeah

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incendiorum · 10 months ago

Text

“ you’re done, ” azzy tells him, picking up the back of the chair and dumping him out of it. “I need the room.”

“ sir, ” the man tries again, flustered.

“ my associate told you to leave, ” col says, toneless, as he flips a pen between ink-smudged fingers. distracted, it is.

azzy takes the pad, leans forward to grab the pen out of col’s other hand, and immediately crosses out three names. “ none of them have experience in venator, ” he explains. col just hums.

“ four of my hunters are dead. ”

the clicking stops. “ four? ”

“ dead, ” azzy snaps back. a cool blue gaze slides towards him, and azzy doesn’t shy away from it, even if he really, really wants to. col has a stare that could stop a bear in its tracks. “ what the fuck is with your parent lately? ”

“ io, ” col corrects. “ we aren’t related. ”

azzy rolls his eyes towards the ceiling. “ uh-huh. ”

col leans back in his chair. “ what happened? ”

“ azzy, ” col says, softer.

“ what kind of noises? ”

“ I don’t know! noises! shuffling and groaning, I think. a word or two, but I couldn’t make them out. ”

col nods. “ and then? ”

azzy takes a breath. “ she called me again ten minutes later, and said she’d lost damian and nathan. throats burned out. both of them. so, iovita picked them off at some point. ”

“ evidently, ” col agrees.

“ ‘y,’ ” azzy replies. his voice sounds far away.

“ his mother is catarina. ”

“ yeah. ”

“ I’ll be in colorado next week. I’ll visit her, personally. ”

“ thank you. ”

col sets his pen down. “ alright. continue, please. ”

“ I didn’t get a call back until the next day, ” azzy says, lacing his fingers together and squeezing them so hard it hurts. “ rose was in the hospital and barely coherent. I told her I’d fly out immediately - and I did. but by the time I got there she had already died. burn wounds, of course. ” his voice feels stuck in his throat. he swallows, but it doesn’t help. “ fuck - you should’ve seen how bad they were. I don’t know how she made it away. ”

col’s gaze is carefully blank. “ and the other three? ”

azzy gestures, vaguely, his own gaze sliding away to fix onto the corner of the desk. “ scattered across the city. found in two different alleyways. best I can tell is that iovita led them on a chase. or… chased them, I guess. ”

he hears col lean forward, pen to paper again. “ rose, damian, nathan…? ”

azzy finishes the list for him, “ TJ. ”

col sucks air through his teeth. “ I was hoping to promote TJ. ”

col gives him a look. “ and what would you do, if four witches were coming after you? ”

azzy sits back. “ I’d do my goddamn job. this isn’t iovita’s fucking job. ”

the withering glance col gives him is enough to make azzy blood boil. his voice rises.“ four of my hunters are dead, col! four! and you know who gets to tell their friends and families? do you know who gets to bury them? do you know who gets to be at every single one of their funerals? ”

col puts a hand out. “ do you really think they would have taken out io? ”

io. col always calls them io. it’s annoying. azzy grits his teeth. “ this time? yeah. yeah, they would have. ”

“ stop that, ” col’s voice carries an edge this time, “ and tell me the truth. ”

“ I’m not delusional! I really think they would have. ”

and why should he? four of azzy subordinates are dead. he knows that when he closes his eyes tonight, the police reports are going to flash behind his eyelids. every burned corpse and every unseeing pair of eyes.

azzy takes a long, slow breath. it doesn’t help. “ you’re… busy with that superpack in the states, right? ”

“ you know some will still try, ” azzy points out.

“ I don’t want to lose more of our good hunters. ”

“ oh. ”

col doesn’t say anything else. azzy shifts in his seat, but he knows col’s dismissal when he sees it. standing up, he goes to leave.

“ azzy? ”

turning around, he sees that col has leaned sideways to fix him with a hard look. “ that means you, too. I need you. ”

“ I won’t do anything stupid, ” azzy promises. col raises an eyebrow, but says nothing else.

as he closes the door behind him, azzy pulls out his phone, scrolls through his contacts list, and taps on a name.

[ sms sent , 16:15 ] newest location for iov s?

[ sms received , 16:18 ] pending.

[ sms received , 17:21 ] one lead. will know tomorrow if good or not.

#❝ 𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 (𝙸. 𝙼𝙰𝙸𝙽). bitter blood builds our prison cell. ❞ ⌟#⌜❝ 𝙰𝙺𝙰 𝙰𝚉𝚉𝚈. now i just wish that you’d send me off that ledge so i can finally fucking take you with me. ❞ ⌟#⌜❝ 𝙲𝙾𝙻 𝚂𝙰𝙻𝚅𝙸𝙴𝙽𝚄𝚂. how did we get so dark? ❞ ⌟#reposting this one #with some rlly minor edits

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shellylynn89 · 16 days ago

Text

Minnesota Yacht Club Festival - July 19 & 20

Buckle up, this is gonna get long.

This was an exciting one to go to; it was the inaugural year of the festival, and just cool to have a solid festival that didn't require out of state travel. I was ready for a good time after the past 24 hours - a full day of work, followed by an evening 5 mile run (yes, the same one I skipped last summer's Fall Out Boy concert for!), driving for 2+ hours, only to arrive at our hotel shortly after midnight - in the early hours of the Microsoft outage. Cory & Tom kept me awake and distracted as we waited in the hotel lobby with a half dozen strangers, all exhausted and desperate for our pre-booked rooms. Nearly an hour later, we got to our room and went to bed. I barely slept.

Fueled by a Red Bull and an almond croissant from the Italian bakery down the block, we walked the mile or so to Harriet Island in the sun. While descending the massive staircases, we wondered how climbing back up them would feel at the end of the day.

Gully Boys, a local Twin Cities band (and the first act of the day) were starting their set on the main stage as we walked in. I liked their sound and anecdotes. We walked around a bit while they played; since it was a smaller festival with only 2 stages, you could hear the music throughout most of the grounds. Another local band, Harbor & Home played next on the other stage. They sounded great and had a good rapport with the crowd. We went to get food after their set, and ate delicious, enormous slices of pizza in the grass while listening to Morgan Wade. We wandered around a bit more after eating, and I noticed a dragonfly sitting on the zipper of the crossbody bag I had on, just left of center over my stomach. I've seen people symbolize dragonflies as lost loved ones, and immediately wondered if this was my dad. The longer it stayed perched the more I felt certain, and nearly 5 minutes later when it flew away I felt a strange calm and comfort that stuck with me the rest of the day.

Shortly after 4pm, we refilled our water bottles and hit the porta potties for the last time until the end of the night and made our way back to the main stage, where Joan Jett and The Blackhearts would be playing at 4:40. Originally, we had planned to bounce back and forth between the two stages all day, but when the Black Crowes cancelled due to illness, we decided to just stay at the main stage through the evening; everyone else we were excited for on day 1 was playing there. I had seen Joan Jett and The Blackhearts once before, at Warped Tour in 2006. At that time, I was surprised to see such veterans on the lineup, but was thrilled to get the opportunity to see them. They played a great set, and Joan Jett sounded and looked fantastic. Eighteen summers later, it was a very similar experience. They sounded great (and Joan still looks fantastic), opening with Victim of Circumstance, then speeding into Cherry Bomb. Other than brief song introductions, they preferred rocketing from one song to the next with minimal bantering and interacting with the crowd. That made for a tight, energetic set with a lot of solid covers (Everyday People, Crimson & Clover, etc.). Of course, they closed with Bad Reputation, which feels even better to sing along to in a crowd full of people.

We stayed in the crowd after they left the stage, checking our phones and taking any opportunity to squeeze closer to the stage. We could hear the faint, vague sound of Durry playing at the opposite stage in the distance.

An hour later I felt a distinct energy shift, and Gwen Stefani pranced onstage singing The Sweet Escape, flanked by what felt like too many dancers for the stage. While I thought the last set was energetic, Gwen was radiating excitement. I grew up on No Doubt, learning all the words to Don't Speak and Just a Girl sometime in elementary school. I didn't love her solo work as much, but it's still plenty of fun. I went into the show expecting mostly solo songs, and was pleasantly surprised when she sang Sunday Morning second, followed by three more No Doubt songs in a row. Soon after, she surprised the crowd by bringing out Blake Shelton to sing their song Purple Irises together. It was sweet to see them together - him in an unassuming button down and jeans, her in a bizarre mess of blue plaid and fishnet - a seemingly random pairing that simultaneously looks completely right. The second half of her set was more dominated by her solo work (though by the end, it was a pretty even split between solo songs and No Doubt songs). She talked to the crowd about having family here - in Minneapolis, before correcting herself, "No, I know this is St. Paul! I know they're not the same!" The minor acknowledgement felt like she understood the area well enough to speak on it this way. She got offstage and reached over the barrier during Luxurious. It smelled like Victoria's Secret Love Spell and weed in the crowd. The vibes were immaculate. Gwen said, "This song was written back when I still lived in Anaheim, California, but I feel like this song is a little more relevant now" right before the band kicked in with the intro to Just a Girl. It felt cathartic to sing along in this specific moment in time and history. That was followed by Hollaback Girl, a perfect set closer, and a good shift from the anger that began bubbling up when I thought about how relevant Just a Girl really is.

At this point, I was grateful that The Black Crowes had to drop from the lineup. They were set to play on the opposite stage between Gwen Stefani and Alanis Morissette, and by this point we had worked our way up to having only a few people in front of us. While Alanis had not been as constant a music staple as No Doubt had been, Jagged Little Pill got me through some very difficult middle school years. This was easily the set I was most excited for out of the whole weekend.

To say the least, Alanis did not disappoint me. She opened with Hand In My Pocket, followed by Right Through You, two Jagged Little Pill classics. During the latter, the screen behind the stage showed statistics about abuse towards women. It was so fitting for the song, and while bleak, felt important and unsurprising to see in the context. A few songs later she sang Hands Clean, another dark song that I didn't fully understand when I was growing up, but obsessed over nonetheless. It always stuck with me in some way. It's one of those songs for me that will randomly pop in my head when I haven't heard it in a few years and I just feel like, I have to listen to this right now, and proceed to obsess over it again for three months before forgetting it again for three years. She continued through her set that was consistently peppered with songs from Jagged Little Pill (playing nearly the whole album by the end), and eventually hit Mary Jane. This was one that made me feel some way when I first heard it in the fifth grade. My excitement continued to get swallowed by emotion. She followed that with Perfect, a song I definitely listened to on repeat for probably hours on end in middle school, and I started crying like I did when I listened to it back then, screaming along to every word louder than I ever could in my childhood bedroom. Next, she brought her daughter & daughter's friend onstage to sing the first half of Ironic with her. It was very sweet. She made a perfect lyrical update I wasn't expecting - "it's like meeting the man of my dreams, then meeting his beautiful husband". My tears dried over the next few songs, and then I was screaming along in a whole different way to You Oughta Know. Alanis left the stage my mind blanked on anything she hadn't - but should've - done. How could she follow up You Oughta Know? But there's no way she's bailing with almost 10 minutes of set time left? A lone spotlight flicked on, shining on Alanis as a piano began playing the opening notes to Uninvited. Of course, how could I forget this song? Although I had been aware of her magnetic stage presence since Hand In My Pocket, the sparse lighting and accompaniment enhanced it to an overwhelming degree. The summer night bugs flocked under the light, buzzing around Alanis in a way that added to the already eerie atmosphere. Goosebumps covered my arms, I felt transfixed. As I wondered if we'd just get a one song encore, I heard the opening notes to Thank U, and immediately fell apart again. This is another song that pops in my head from time to time and results in a months-long obsession. How could I have forgotten it? I kept myself quiet long enough to record part of the song, and then let everything go. HOW 'BOUT UNABASHEDLY BAWLING YOUR EYES OUT? I had to catch my breath after the song was over. I'd never been so emotionally moved at a concert, which is saying a lot.

The crowd began to disperse and Cory, Tom and I started heading for the exit. They casually agreed that Alanis was "pretty awesome". I wiped my eyes and softly added, "I feel like I did some real inner child work in there." They nodded. We climbed the stairs to the bridge and headed back to the hotel, discussing the day we had and what we had to look forward to tomorrow. I honestly didn't even care, I got what I needed.

I didn't sleep, again, but was still riding high enough from the day before to handle it. We arrived a bit later than the day before, and didn't pay much attention to any act until Soul Asylum. I had been told they're terrible live, but we figured we might as well see them. As we listened to them, I didn't understand why I had been warned so heavily. Runaway Train was a great nostalgic moment. After their set, Tom and Cory agreed they sounded better than the last time they'd seen them. We made a game plan for the rest of the day as we ate sloppy (but delicious) tacos. The sun was hotter than the day before, and we breathed a sigh of relief everytime we felt it dip behind a cloud. We vaguely paid attention to Trombone Shorty & Orleans Avenue and Hippocampus before we worked our way into the crowd for The Offspring. They were the act I was most excited for that day, and Cory's pick for the whole weekend. Like Joan Jett and The Blackhearts, I saw them at Warped Tour long ago, and they're easily in my top 3 favorite Warped Tour sets. They've never been one of my favorite bands, but I've always liked them, and they left such a strong impression when I saw them before, I knew I was in for a good time. They opened strong with Come Out and Play, and I couldn't help but think of my dad. He would love this for me and would want to hear my stories after the fact. They continued into an energetic set full of hits (including my favorite, Want You Bad) and silly banter between Dexter and Noodles. "I've got a good feeling about this, I think this may just be one of the best shows we've ever had, I think that's gonna happen today...top 5, I don't know"

"This crowd has the potential to be the best thing that's happened to rock and roll ever!"

The crowd roared.

"That's quite a statement"

"I think it could happen with you guys!"

I enjoyed the hyperbole. A bunch of beach balls magically appeared bouncing over the crowd during Why Don't You Get A Job?, and they ultimately ended their set with Self Esteem. It was just as much fun as I had hoped (thankfully Cory felt the same).

After much debate, we left the crowd and walked to the outskirts of the other stage's crowd to see Gary Clark Jr. Cory and I had seen him before, at Lollapalooza in 2019 and we both certainly wanted to see him again. Tom was supposed to be with us in 2019, but had to back out last minute thanks to a rough appendectomy. He was torn - he wanted to see Gary Clark Jr., but also wanted to be close to the stage for Red Hot Chili Peppers, who played immediately after at the opposite stage. We ultimately stayed somewhere in between the stages, close enough to hear Gary Clark Jr. through a few killer guitar solos and the majority of his set before weaving our way back into RHCP's crowd 10 or so minutes before they started.

Of course, I grew up listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers, and have casually liked them, less with time as I learn more about the band themselves, honestly. Regardless, I knew they'd put on a fun show. At 8:58, I heard the music start and saw the lights pick up. Simultaneously I could still hear Gary Clark Jr. in the background, closing his set out with This Land - a powerful song about racism. Something about RHCP starting 2 minutes early and disrupting him (during that song, especially) left a bad taste in my mouth. I tried to brush it off like I tried to brush off how much Anthony Kiedis creeps me out - then he sprang out on stage in a fishnet shirt. Nope, couldn't brush off the creepiness. I was able to at least focus on what was in front of me and be in the moment enough to enjoy a well done show. After a little intro jam they got everyone going with Can't Stop, followed by Scar Tissue. Two nostalgic (albeit, for different times) favorites of mine. There were a few newer songs I didn't really know, but the trippy lighting and visuals on the screens were enough to keep my attention. Singing Californication at the top of my lungs felt good. By The Way hit me just right and I felt so grateful to be there. They left the stage after, only to come back for an encore of I Could Have Lied, and of course, Give It Away. I was impressed at Anthony Kiedis' ability to still sing it just right. It was the perfect, fun closer for the weekend.

We talked about our overall experience on the walk back to the hotel, all agreeing that the food options left a bit to be desired, and we heard the bathrooms got a bit dicey towards the end, but in total, pretty solid - especially for the first year of the event. We had each been most excited for different acts, and each of them being our respective favorites (Alanis for me, The Offspring for Cory, and Red Hot Chilli Peppers for Tom) by the end of the weekend. It was a satisfying end to a weekend that started so chaotically. I hope next year's lineup is just as good.

#festival #Minnesota Yacht Club Festival #Alanis Morissette

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lostmyshadesanon · 3 years ago

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Happy Birthday Felix 🎂🎁 🎉🎊

@teyvat-writer

🦊 - Anon here!!! It's finally the day. I hope.

I have no idea what time zone you live in so I'm posting this a bit early just in case!

If it's still the 28th when you see this. Don't open it!

Let the anticipation build!

This should be the last part for our poor hydro archon, but I'm sure the most anticipated. Let's hope we can do it justice.

Mindbroken?Hydro!Archon!Male!Reader x FoulLegacy!Childe

Wouldn't it be funny if I put a rickroll here?

Or just an error message, lol.

But anyway moving on.

You feebly twitched as you felt Childe fuck you with his entire fist in your gaping hole. Leisurely opening and closing his hand as he ground his knuckles into your swollen prostate, and commented idly on your puffy rim.

By this point you could barely even feel when another orgasm was ripped from your soiled body, and your cock jerked underneath you.

Childe had been at this for hours. He hadn't been inside you or orgasmed since the first round, but he seemed determined to be able to shove both of his fists in your aching hole regardless of how long it took.

When you had the capacity to think between orgasms you wondered why your guards had not coming looking for you after all this time, and hoped that if the Fatui had restrained them that they hadn't died, but just been incapacitated.

Though you were never able to think long before another orgasm was dragged out of you. Combined with the saccharine sweet voice mockingly praising you. Your head was almost completely empty and body numb to the pleasure you were being put through.

You could only gurgle faintly when Childe finally got his way and stretched you enough that both his balled up fists could fit into your gaping hole. He didn't remain there for long quickly pulling both his hands free, as be grinned in glee at your ruined hole.

"I think you're finally ready, my darling patron!" He crowed, lightly petting your back as if you were a prized pet who had completed a new trick.

Staring at him through dazed and bleary eyes you wondered. "Ready for what? What more could you do to ruin me?"

He must have the ability to read your mind, or long ago you had lost the stoic control you had over your facial expression. Childe bared his fangs in a mean smile. "Though I made sure the preparation was pleasurable you've barely reacted! That's quite unfair considering how many orgasms you've had compared to me.", The demon masquerading as a man pouted. "So to make sure you're still paying attention I've brought this!"

Childe brought out a potion bottle with some unknown blue liquid inside. With a loud pop he uncorked it, tilted your hips high enough up to send sparks of pain through your spine, and promptly shoved it inside you so it could empty unhindered into your defenseless body.

There was only a moment where you felt the strange liquid mix with the remnants of your favored's cum were you debated on the odd sensation reminded you of, before it felt like it ignited inside you, and you screamed.

It was like liquid fire had been poured into you. The disassociation you had been able to reach banished like morning fog, as your nerves lit up like a livewire. You start to moan like a bitch in heat drool leaking from your mouth as the fire spread across your body. Making you feel every pulse of your insides and cock, your hole desperately grasping at the bottle inside it, but it was too small!

What had Childe done to you?! That something the size of a wine bottle would feel too small??? As your body desperately begged for something bigger, something warmer, and the aching need to cum.

That shouldn't be possible. You shouldn't even be able to come at this point considering how many orgasms had been forced upon you?!?! You could only cry out in delight eyes rolling when Childe's hands skimmed over your cock, and tugged teasingly at the bottle in your ass.

"Ah, already begging for more, my dear patron?" Childe stated teasingly. "Dottore did say this was strong but I didn't think it'd be this strong."

Barely leaving you room to breath. Childe ripped the bottle from your grasping insides sending you screaming into orgasm. You were barely aware of your begging as you sobbed at the empty feeling inside you.

"Oh, darling don't worry you'll be full very soon. I have to make sure to claim you in a way that NO ONE will ever be able to satisfy you again. That way both you and the world know you're MINE." Childe whispered the words confidently into the small of your back before dragging sharp canines growing steadily into fangs down to the swell of your ass.

"Prepare yourself!" He cautioned before sneering over your begging form and rolling eyes, "If you still have the capacity too." Before he slid his fangs deep into the small of your back a glowing riptide mark spreading out like ink over your skin as electricity started to coat his own.

Spine arched from the conflicting flashes of pain and pleasure you felt more than saw the transformation happening behind you.

Cool hands grew massive claws as they clutched at your hips drawing hints of blood from where they pressed. The cracking of electricity and bone as you were hoisted off the ground jerkily from your current partner's growth in height and size. The fangs in your back sliding smoothly out and a smooth texture replaced it almost like being pressed up against marble. You could feel fur tickling your back as you twisted to see what kind of horrors awaited you.

He was massive, he was intimidating, he was gorgeous. The feral boy who had struggled to survive in the abyss had not only tamed it but made it part of his strength in this new form. Massive blood red horns sprouted from his mask, and a cape seemingly made of stars and space.

Dragging your eyes down you froze. Childe's cock had already been awe inspiring as a human, but in this form...

It was terrifying. It seemed to emerge from some kind of protective slit. The shape was as inhuman as his current form, and a size to match. He was easily double if not closer to triple your height and his cock fit his current form. Easily the size of one of your thighs if not bigger. You now understood the need for hours of stretching. It was ribbed increasing it's girth though it did not have a bulbous head which made you weary. That implied that whatever Childe had turned into was a creature built for egg laying. You couldn't see any kind of testes but knew he was fertile considering the steady drip of pre cum from the swollen tip. You could also see a slight pouch towards the base of his member which you knew meant he probably had a knot too.

You were horrified when your body shivered in pleasure at the sight and smell of the crime against nature before you. You desperately were trying to convince yourself that the utter wanton lust inside you was based on whatever mysterious liquid Childe had forced you to consume.

A rolling purr vibrated through you from the creature before you as you chocked on your own drool unable to take your eyes off the cock before you, but Childe didn't allow you to stare for much longer.

Raising your body up as if it weighed no more than a toy, and similarly treating you no better than a ragdoll, Childe positioned you over his monstrosity of a cock.

Desperately you were muttering no over and over again as you pawed uselessly at his shoulders trying to climb away as you were lowered closer and closer to the leaking member. You knew you'd never recover from this once you got a taste of what was about to penetrate you you'd never be the same, and only be able to thirst and be filled by this monstrous thing.

A deep chuckle pressed near your ear as Childe bent so that his face was near yours still lowering and positioning you for his cock. "You did say on your honor as an Archon you'd take me. So take me!"

Before sheathing himself inside you in one smooth motion. Your nerves screamed with you. You could feel ever rib as they caressed your swollen insides and invaded your body. You could do nothing but cry and take it, as he used your body like nothing more then a sex toy to masturbate himself with.

Grunts and growls joined your screams and begging as he furiously bounced you on his dick. Whispering praises and croons near your head while your eyes crossed and tongue hung uselessly from your mouth. Though his tip wasn't shaped like a human man's it did its job of digging into your prostate so that pleasure was dragged from your willing body, and your unwilling submission from your mind.

You're going to break! 💙

You're going to brEAK! 💙💙

You'RE GoING To BrEAK! 💙💙💙

You screamed until your voice broke, eyes becoming fully unfocused, as your body spasmed uselessly through orgasm grasping desperately at the welcome intruder making itself home inside you.

Gleeful claws dug deeper into your hips drawing blood when Childe felt you completely relax no longer even a token struggle being put up by his patron. No his love. Now he could just TAKE.

Claws delicately crawled up your torso to carefully grasp and pull at your swollen teats intent on tugging and bruising them until they were swollen enough to be mistaken for small tits and the idea of covering up would be laughable due to sensitivity.

He watches in delight as you could only moan, and get out enough syllables to beg while he drove you far past overstimulation. Your pupils not even attempting to track anything occuring around you.

Though all good things must come to an end and Childe could feel the tightening in his gut and stir in his knot that this round was drawing to a close.

You could only sob and thrash in utter pleasure as Childe continued to stimulate your chest. Nipples bruised and swollen a cherry red easily the size of the tip of a person's thumb, before feeling the man, monster, behind you still with a deep groan.

Your animal hind brain could only gasp in relief thinking this trial of endurance was finally over. But you should stop under estimating your favored he loves to exceed expectations.

You could only twitch weakly, pinned to his crotch, as you were suspended in the air, when you felt his knot start to inflate. Your cock dripped a steady flow of pre cum from Childe's tip being ground against your probably bruised and weeping prostate, as you both waited for his knot to fully inflate.

But the worst had still yet to come. Finally after what felt like minutes and a few micro orgasms you felt Childe move. A twitch in his stomach before a lurch in his cock. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before taking a ragged gasp.

Something solid was moving through the member nestled deep inside you. Stretching you out further to accommodate it. You could only sob as it worked further into you.

Childe dragged a clawed hand up to your cheek lightly caressing you. "You're doing so well pet. You'll make such a good incubator and brood mother. All for my lovely eggs." Childe sneered delighted at your faint moaned denials and twitches. He loved that even now you were attempting to fight him. Pleasure broken as you were.

Childe ground into you lightly tugging at your rim with his knot to hear you gasp and cry before leaning forward as if to hear you better. "What was that my love? I couldn't have heard you denying to be my broodmare after all you promised to take all of me. I'm only making sure you follow through. After all you'll look so pretty full of my eggs."

Childe's hand on your face dragged your chin down to look at your ever filling stomach. During your conversation he had been quick to fill you. You were so bloated at this point you could easily see the faint shape of the eggs inside you.

A ragged gasp left your lips as the next egg pressed sharply against your prostate finally sending you over the edge and into orgasm. You wailed as your eyes rolled grasping desperately at your ever increasing stomach. Unable to come down from orgasm as each egg made a pass over your prostate.

This seemed to delight your captor. Childe's voice deepened in mockery, "You try to keep your pride and make denials that you're not a whore who loves the idea of being fucked and filled constantly and yet you can't stop continuously orgasming on my cock like some desperate slit." Childe wickedly continued micro thrusting to fuck you with his knot as his eggs kept your orgasm from truly ending.

Over time Childe felt his eggs slow to a stop and his knot start to deflate. Carefully he lowered himself and you to the floor as he let his transformation peel away to show his human form keeping his still sizeable cock plugging you full.

Placing you delicately in his lap so you could continue to cockwarm him Childe hummed a jaunty tune. Waving a hand in front of your face his tune picked up in beat at the lack of reaction or recognition in his darlings eyes. He had finally broken you for now. He expected you'd pull yourself together eventually, but it should be long enough he can bundle you away, and sedate your now human form, for the long trip to Sneznaya.

After all his family had been inquiring when he would take a partner, but knew he'd had his eyes only on one. After all one day he'd been King of everything and he needed a capable partner at his side. Placing a kiss on your temple Childe continued humming as he watched his agents enter the room and prepare for their swift getaway.

He grinned your first mistake was truly saving his life and putting him in debt to you. After all he always keeps his promises and pays his debts.

I think that's it. That was hard to figure out how to end. 🤔

Hopefully you liked it Felix! After I did all that hype for this chapter.

Happy birthday again. 🎉🎉😆😆

From 🦊 Anon!

#finally done #minimal editing #i apologize for spelling mistakes or things like that #i was on a roll #hopefully i hit all your kinks felix #i tried to include most of what i saw from your thirsts on your blog

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jointimeandspace · 3 years ago

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So I decided to do a part 2 for "First Night." This is my first time writing a sex scene, but I tried my best. Changes will be added here and there along the way. 😅 Please enjoy! Comments are definitely appreciated.

First Night (pt. 2)

It had been about a week since that night when you and Alcina were supposed to consummate your relationship. Instead it turned into a much needed therapy session. Afterall, what good was it to make love to someone if you were too nervous? But now you were ready. Still nervous, but ready and feeling better about the situation. That entire week you devoted yourself to practicing yoga to help you relax, journaling to right down all your qualms about how you were feeling....and most intimate thoughts, and reading the various ways one may know how to pleasure yourself. In this routine you were able release a build up of negativity that had been present for so long and learn more about yourself. "Taking care and loving yourself first is the best way for a relationship to thrive," Alcina told you.

You were now back at the starting point in Alcina's chamber. The room still had that soft orange tint coming from the fire, but this time the sky was clear and full of stars- the moon shining bright through the window. Rose petals were spread across the bed and on the floor. This was much more relaxing and romantic; you were honestly very excited. Whatever happened tonight you wouldn't regret it.

The door to the room opened as Alcina came in with a bottle of wine- (there was no way she was giving you Sanguis Virginis- at least not yet, until you asked for it), and your favorite treat, chocolate covered strawberries. "Hello, darling," she said as she sat down the items on the night stand next to you. "You look absolutely radiant! How are you feeling about tonight?" You jumped up off the bed and gave her a big kiss. "I still feel a bit nervous, but I'm so happy. On top of that you brought my favorite treat." She chuckled as she sat you back down on the bed. "You're absolutely a delight, draga. And I love that nightgown on you. That was one of the things you ordered from the catalog, correct? Wine?" You nodded. "I'm so glad you like it Alci, and yes please! I'd love to taste your wine. What type of partner would I be if I'm with a wine maker and have never tasted their product?" Alcina gave a hearty laugh as she handed you glass. "I definitely see someone's mood has improved over the week. Please, drink up." You took a sip. The cherry flavor coated your tongue as you could also taste a hint of cinnamon in it. It was very sweet, but still had a bit of tartness to it. The smell was comforting and you sat back on the pillow relishing in the taste.

"Normally I would pair a champagne with chocolate covered strawberries, but I have quite a sweet tooth at the moment," Alcina said as she sat on the bed next to you. You took another sip as you were lost in thought (good ones to be exact). You could feel Alcina's eyes on you, trying desperately to read your mind. "I know you're still a bit apprehensive, love. We don't..." You stopped her, "No, Alci! It's not that. I'm ready! I'm just feeling...well, how do I explain it? Very, very, in the mood. And yes, I was thinking about all things we could do, but I don't want to get too far ahead of myself. My goodness this wine is a bit stronger than I thought, but I don't mind it." You put the glass down and straddled her lap.

Alcina was quite surprised, but then she gave you a seductive smirk. She liked this new found boldness of yours even if it was temporary from the wine. "I love to see you loosen up, draga. I find that terribly sexy when you can be yourself... without inhibitions." She reached over to one of the strawberries and popped one in your mouth. The taste was exquisite! You felt the juice drip down as you licked your lips. Strawberries were always an aphrodisiac to you, but paired with the wine, it might as well have been a drug. You felt yourself grind on your lover's lap as you ate the remaining bite of the strawberry, a soft moan coming from her.

Alcina reached for the tie around your gown and pulled the knot, slowly revealing yourself to her. You felt a rush of cool air hit your skin- goosebumps running across your arms and shoulders. You gasped as you felt a hand run up and down your back. "My, my draga! You have such a beautiful body." You blushed as you leaned in to give Alcina another kiss. Your tongues intertwining with each other's. The kiss was soft, but passionate, needy, exhilarating. Warm lips licked and kissed up your neck- the room was spinning as you felt overstimulated. You pulled back out of breath, closing your eyes, resting your head against hers trying to steady your breathing. It was her turn to grace you with her body.

"Alci...I wanna see you! Please? I want you!"

" Oh, impatient, are we? Well, I do adore it when you beg, my love. As you wish."

You climbed down off of her propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better view. Alcina lifted her nightgown over her head and unpinned the curls from her hair. She looked like a marble statue come to life. Her skin had a tint of grey underneath and stretch marks running up the delicious curves and crevices of her body. Her belly was so soft as you longed to plant kisses upon it; her muscles glowing under the light of the fire. You could feel her eyes, now flaming yellow, bore into your soul as if she could read your mind.

Alcina smirked, "Like what you see, pet? " You nodded. What else could you do? She was breathtaking, the epitome of femininity. You were certainly under her spell. You'd give your life to her, and she knew that. "Do with me as you please, mistress...whatever you want!" And so she did. She hovered over you like a predator with her prey, studying you and taking in every inch. More kisses were planted along your neck as your breath hitched. She drew her nose across your skin taking in your scent. A sharp pain was seeping into your shoulder: she had drank from you. The pain was exquisite as you rolled your eyes back. How intimate, how...feral it all was. She was a predator after all with a voracious appetite. You wrapped your fingers in her hair and she trailed further and further down from your neck, over your stomach, soon reaching your thighs. She give a quick nip at the plump skin. Her eyes trailed back to you. "Open yourself to me, draga. I'll be gentle." Hesitant, you slowly revealed your most intimate area to her, already dripping with arousal. Your smell was heavenly to her: earthy and sweet. Alcina breathed you in- her tongue set to work on your clit, needy and hungry. You moaned but stifled yourself. "No pet! Let them hear. I want everyone to know your mine, my darling!" She was biting, and sucking, licking and pulling. You were seeing stars and couldn't wait to return the favor. Alcina sat up and reached for her glass as you whined from the loss of contact. She gave you a quick, devilish glance, and then she poured the glass on your stomach. The sticky drink running down and coating your body. "You already taste divine on your own, but the wine brings out an...aroma that I've never experienced before." She licked the wine of your belly, as her long tongue tickled and teased. The arousal at your most secretive garden began to gush more fervently. "Alci...p-please...don't linger," you gulped. Alcina's tongue swept back down to your clit to taste your sweetness, her hands palming and gripping your vulva. You were so close.

Before your finish, she plunged a large finger inside you. Your moans were louder and your breathing more erratic. She pumped her finger in and out picking up speed as you were unable to take anymore. Her mouth more desperate and searching for your fountain to burst inside her mouth. You gripped her back as if you were about fly off the bed, leaving scratches in your fingers wake. "Come, darling! Now!" You screamed and came with a fierceness you had never known. The wait was worth it! You laid on the bed for a few minutes as she ran her hand across your tummy to ground you and settle you down. Your afterglow left you gjddy and tired; the last thing you remember was Alcina pulling you into her lap. She stroked your back and gave you a sweet kiss on your forehead. "This is just the beginning, draga, but you did so well. I'm so proud! Don't worry...we'll keep practicing." You and her both giggled.

"I hope so, I want to return the favor."

"You will, my love. I'll see to that, but for now, all good pets need their rest. I'll wake you up for a bath in a little while." She pulled the covers over you and hummed as you drifted off to sleep. "Goodnight, Alci," you yawned. "Thank you for a wonderful first time."

#lady dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x maiden #res 8 #village

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itsallyscorner · 4 years ago

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Ally!! could you write something from that video you reblogged of getting to know Tom before shooting a film with him! ♥️ You would write it so beautifully :) of course take care of yourself first but whenever you are ready!!

Thank you for requesting this love!!🥰 I was going to save it for last and do my requests in order, but I just couldn’t stop thinking about this request, so here I am! I hope you like it!!💜✨

💌.

Getting To Know You

This is long, I probably overdid it, but I hope you all enjoy!🥰

(GIF credits @thollandgifs )

You wander the halls of the studio, walking down long hallways, turning corners, and eyes scanning each sign on the doors of the rooms. You look back down to your phone, skimming through the email the costume department had sent you. Costume Design / Wardrobe — Room 220. Sighing, you glance at the door beside you, Production Design — Room 125. You mentally cursed at yourself for taking so long to get to the studio. You had just arrived in Cleveland, literally just that morning. After a lengthy flight to Cleveland, you were escorted to the house that you would be calling home for the next several months. There waiting for you was a rented car and the belongings that you had packed from home to be delivered to your rented house. Since the house was already decorated and furnished, there was no need in packing all your furniture from home, instead you shipped clothes you couldn’t fit in your luggage and other important belongings that would be difficult to bring onto a flight.

The moment you stepped foot into the house you didn’t bother looking around or going through the boxes that were stacked near the entrance. You made a quick trip to the kitchen, taking a bottle of water from the fridge and drinking a majority of it. The house was spacious but not a hassle to get around, you peaked into a few rooms until you found the bedroom. Removing your shoes, you pulled back the neatly tucked comforter and climbed into the soft bed. Your eyes were already drooping the moment your head hit the pillow. Before sleep can consume you, you turned on an alarm on your phone about an hour and a half prior to the time you were expected to be at the studio.

You were used to traveling to new places due to your job as an actress. Renting out homes and cars for months on end was nothing new to you. Neither was figuring out your way around the new state or country you were currently living in. Though Cleveland was different; you had a GPS to tell you directions to the studio but you were still getting lost, making wrong turns and taking wrong lanes on the highway. Stopping by Starbucks for an iced coffee and croissant to fill you up didn’t help, instead it added on to your reason being late.

You were still roaming the halls with your head tilted down to stare at your phone. The stress from being behind schedule mixed with your sleep deprivation created a headache to pound in your head. Suddenly, your shoulder harshly knocks into something. You yelp, apologies already spilling from your lips as you continue your rush to the costume department—wherever it was.

“(Y/n)?” A familiar voice with an accent asks. Your shoes come to a halt on the carpeted floors of the studio. Your head whips back to see the warm brown eyes you were once staring into during that audition how many months ago.

“Tom!” You exclaim making your way back to him. You were taken aback by his appearance. The last you saw him he was buffer and had a head full of soft dark brown curls. His body was thinner, cheeks a bit more sunken in, and his curls were long gone replaced with a buzzcut. Though you should’ve expected his change in appearance, you guys were playing heroin addicts for crying out loud. You had also been put on a diet in preparation for your role as Emily, loosing a fair amount of weight yourself.

“Hey, you’re here! I didn’t know you were in Cleveland already. How long have you been here?” He asks, arms pulling you in for a friendly hug. You happily accept the gesture, hugging him back.

“Umm, I actually just got here this morning.” You answer once you both pull away. His eyes widen for a second, “And they already called you in? For fittings right?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d have a day to settle in but we’ve got a tight schedule. Filming starts soon—like in a month and a half?” Though filming didn’t start till the next month or so, the Russo brothers wanted both you and Tom to be in Cleveland a month earlier. This was to help with pre production preparations. It was also used to help you and Tom do research for your roles in Cherry and to get to know each other.

Tom looks at the wall with a raised brow, “Uhh, something like that, yeah.” His eyes flicker back to you, “Where are you off to?”

“To wardrobe, but I can’t find the place and I’m already running late.” You sigh.

“Well, lucky for you, I just came from there. I’ll take you.” He offers, raising his elbow out for you. You smile at him, looping your arm around his and quietly thank him. He leads you to the wardrobe department and drops you off; exchanging a quick joke with the ladies and another hug for you before leaving.

You remember the day you met Tom. You were called back from your audition to do a chemistry read with the lead role of Cherry, who at the time you didn’t know was Tom. Your nerves were at a high that day. You’ve made it so far into the audition process that you hoped your anxiousness wouldn’t get the best of you and mess it up. As an actor, you were used to meeting new faces all the time, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have anxiety when it comes to meeting new people. Questions wracked your brain. What if you didn’t have chemistry with the lead role? What if you did have chemistry but the lead role was a dick? Does your breath smell good? Are your clothes too casual? What if you have to kiss the lead role? What kind of scene were you guys doing?

All your questions and feelings of uneasiness were thrown out the window the moment you saw Tom’s friendly face. He greeted you as if you were long time friends. That sweet smile of his made the tension in your body at ease, it was kind and warm, like it was his silent way of comforting you after picking up on your nerves. Tom was a force in the room, his cheerful and optimistic energy radiating off of him and onto the other people in the room. Maybe that’s why you felt so comfortable to be around him during the chemistry read.

He was very welcoming, taking it upon himself to spark a conversation with you while the casting directors and producers prepared themselves for your chemistry read. You remembered the way he naturally leaned closer to you, bending down a few times to hear you, his eyes remaining on yours while you conversed, the both of you aware of each other’s presence. You weren’t going to lie to yourself; Tom was attractive. He had gorgeous brown eyes that you could never get tired of looking into, a charming smile, and a beautiful personality. He was easy to get along with. The chemistry read ended with smiles from everyone in the room. You remember thinking to yourself, if you were going to be casted, you wouldn’t mind being casted alongside him. Weeks of sitting around and patiently waiting, you get a call from the Russos saying you were casted as Emily.

Fittings only took an hour tops, most of the clothes were bought since there was no need in designing fancy or sparkly costumes. Before leaving the studio building, you had a quick meeting with the Russos. It was mostly about the basic stuff, the run down of the schedule, the filming process, preparations, etc. By the time you were done at the studio, the sun had set and the night sky took over Cleveland. You stopped by a fast food chain for dinner and took it to go. You drive home, eat your food, and your night ends there.

The next time you saw Tom wasn’t that long from when you saw him at the studio. He called you days later, asking if you would like to join him at the VA. As someone who had no experience with drugs or were surrounded by people who faced addictions; drugs was a new territory for you. Of course, you’ve heard about it and learned the basics of it at school, but you’ve never had to act like a heroin addict. Until now.

You drive to the VA on an early Thursday morning, this time not getting lost on your way to your destination. The air was chilly, the sky dark and cloudy after braving a storm. You park your car and send a text off to Tom saying you’ve arrived. You meet up at the entrance of the VA. He was dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt, and sneakers. His attire similar to yours, which made you chuckle to yourself. He greets you with a hug, his arms brining you warmth from the cool air.

“Hey, love.” His voice was deep, still fresh from sleep. You smile fondly at him. Though you first met him a few months back, reuniting a few days ago, the boy’s been growing on you.

“Hey, thanks for inviting me.” The two of you remain outside, hesitant to enter the VA. It daunted both you and Tom to face the veterans inside. The VA was a sacred place for them, you didn’t want to overstep boundaries or offend anyone with questions for research. They’ve suffered from PTSD or were recovering from substance abuse, some of them just starting out their recovery. You did not know what to expect or hear once you step foot into the building.

Tom’s feet shift against the pavement, his hands shoved into his pockets, “Yeah, it’s no problem. I just thought that—you know, since we’re the only two playing heroin addicts in the movie, I thought we could do this together.”

You smile reassuringly at him, “No, I get it. I honestly appreciate it, Tom, thank you.” You look around the area. It was a quiet place, not too many cars parked in the parking lot, a few trees scattered, and the building had a tan almost bland colored exterior. Your eyes drift back to Tom’s, which were already on you.

You gesture to the building with your head, “You ready to go in?” Tom nervously breaths in eyeing the building. You catch on to his hesitancy and place your hand on his arm.

“Hey, you alright?”

“I’m fine. I’m just a bit nervous to talk to them, you know? I don’t want them to think I’m using their suffering as some kind of inspiration for this role.” He explains. You nod understanding, “Yeah, I know what you mean. I feel the same way, I don’t want to trespass on their privacy either. Wanna take a minute out here?”

“I think I’m good. How about you?” Tom composes himself. You flash him a tight smile nodding. Together, the two of you enter the VA, greeted by a receptionist who leads you both to a room.

You and Tom spend most of the day at the VA listening to the different stories of veterans who’ve suffered from PTSD and or substance/drug abuse. Some of them were very open and willing to share, telling you the hardships of their experience. Then there were those who were at the start of their recovery journey, a bit closed off, but were still willing to share nonetheless.

Tom watched as you listened to each veteran intently. Your eyes remained on them, your head nodding along, as you asked them questions or added some input to their stories. Unlike Tom, you seemed more composed and calmer than him. This was something he wasn’t used to, he wasn’t used to talking about drugs or military veterans and addiction. All of this talk was uncharted territory for him, it was dark and terrifying, something he never associated himself with. He was glad you agreed to come along because without you he wasn’t sure if he could do this all alone.

Tom would be lying if he said he didn’t feel some kind of attraction towards you. There was just some sense of comfort or tranquility that drew him to you. You had the brightest smile that lit up the room, sometimes he even found himself smiling because of it. He admired the way you greeted each veteran or former drug addict with a comforting smile and talked to them as if they were just a person, and not as someone who’s been suffering. You made the room feel like a safe space for them to share their experiences without feeling like they were being judged.

Tom was quiet for the most part, asking questions when he felt they were necessary or when something peaked his interest. He added a few comments here and there but for most of the time he listened. He listened to the horrifying and heartbreaking experiences of each veteran. There was a point in the interviews where it dawned on Tom that he was going to have to portray what these veterans went through. From the traumas of war, through the struggles of PTSD, to the excessive use of drugs and alcohol—Tom became reluctant in becoming Cherry. Was he really ready to become a heroin addict? Was he mentally prepared to shred himself and be in the mindset of something so ruinous?

From time to time you glanced over at Tom, checking if he was alright. At the start he was a bit fidgety, his leg bouncing and fingers fumbling with each other. His questions came out stuttered but by the middle of the interviews he grew comfortable in the room. Once in a while you would ask him how he was and he would answer with a small nod and an assuring smile. He then would reciprocate the question with a whisper leaning closer for only you to hear.

By the time the last veteran walked out, Tom felt a responsibility to give these people justice. To not only tell their stories and of other veterans around the world, but to bring awareness to the things that they’ve faced. Not only Tom felt that but so did you. These people have opened up to you guys about the darkest and lowest points in their lives, the best way you can both thank them would have to be by portraying your roles as accurate and realistic as possible.

There was a stillness in the room; it was quiet. The only sounds being heard was the ticking of the clock on the wall beside you and the distant sound of cars driving by. Tom was the first to speak, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Your brows knitted together, put off by his random comment. “Why’s that?”

Tom shrugs, taking a breath in and turning in his seat to face you, “I couldn’t have done these interviews alone. From trying to make them feel comfortable and asking all these questions, I would’ve felt so overwhelmed. So, thank you.”

Your mouth curves into a small smile, “Give yourself some credit. I couldn’t have done this without you either. I can’t imagine doing these interviews alone, I wouldn’t be able to handle the intensity of all those stories by myself.”

Moments later the two of you finish your time at the VA. You walk towards your car, which was nearest to the building. “This is me.” You gesture to your car.

Tom nods in response. After all the stories he’s heard, he didn’t want to be alone. Sure, he has Harry back at his place, but it just wouldn’t be the same. He wouldn’t understand what was going through Tom’s head. Tom hesitates to ask you if you want to hang out, but after a quick mental argument against himself, he pushes himself to ask, “Um, what are you doing after this?”

You unlock your car and toss your bag into the passenger’s seat. “I’ll probably stop by Whole Foods or something. I need to fill up my fridge and pick up some stuff at Target that I might need.” You lean against the frame of your car. “Why?”

“Oh, I was gonna ask if you wanted to do something—it’s totally fine, since you’re busy and all.” Tom stutters out as he waved his hand at you. He was a bit disappointed that you were busy, besides not wanting to be by himself, he really wanted to spend time with you. You guys were friendly, but he wanted to get to know you more.

“Hey! If you want, you could come along? I could use the company.” You suggest, lips curving to a half smile. You gesture to his arms and jokingly say, “I could also use a pair of strong arms to help me.”

Tom bashfully chuckles, “I’d like that.” He turns to where his car was parked and motions to it over his shoulder. “I brought my car, so I guess I’ll just follow you there?”

“Yeah, I’ll just, I’ll text you the location.” You hold your phone up.

“Great, I’ll see you then.” Tom confirms and pulls you into a hug. You giggle at how affectionate he can be. You were gonna see him again in just a few minutes; the drive to Whole Foods wasn’t that long.

Tom parks his car besides yours in the Whole Foods parking lot. You both lock up your vehicles and make your way into the market. On the way, Tom grabs a shopping cart for you. You try to steal it away from him, but he insists on pushing the cart the entire time. You take out your list on your phone and navigate your way through the aisles of Whole Foods. While you throw things into the cart, you and Tom converse. The both of you share some basic information, like things about your hometowns, your families and friends, just the general stuff. You guys were talking about pets when you reached cereal aisle.

“I had a Yorkie when I was growing up, he was the sweetest little thing. He sadly passed because of a heart attack.” You reminisced as you scanned the shelves for your preferred cereal brand. Your hand held onto the cart that Tom pushed with his elbows, as he leaned his entire weight onto the cart.

Tom frowned at the mention of your dog, “I’m sorry.” You give him a look, wordlessly telling him that you were ok and have moved on. “So, did you get to bring Tessa to Cleveland?”

“Nope, she’s not too fond of flights, so I don’t put her through the struggle of getting on a plane.” You find your cereal and try to reach for it, “Aww, I would’ve wanted to meet her. From what you told me, she sounds like a sweetheart.”

Tom chuckles at you before coming from behind the cart and helping you get the cereal down. You look at him with a sheepish grin, “I had that, but thank you.”

Tom squints his eyes playfully at you, “Did you really? Because you looked like you were struggling a bit?”

“No, I was stretching.” You quip back eyes twinkling with amusement. You place the box in the cart and drag the cart. Tom chuckles returning to the front of the cart and pushes it. You look back at him, “You wanna have dinner at my place? I could make a pretty good pizza.”

“Is that so? I guess I might have to try it for myself, I’m in.” He agrees. The two of you finish up at Whole Foods. The cart was overflowing with brown bags when you and Tom walked back to your cars. Always the gentleman, Tom helps you put all your bags into your car’s trunk and even takes back the cart to the designated area that stored them. You split off into your separate cars and stop by Target before you go home. Going to Target with Tom was probably one of the most chaotic and hilarious things you’ve ever done. It took you about two hours in Target just to get what you were looking for. Most of the time in the store was you and Tom looking at children’s toys, making fun of weird costumes you found, and finding meaningless shit to buy because why not? You never thought Tom could be a dumbass until you saw him try to bounce a ball onto the floor and make it land onto his head.

“Tom, we’re gonna get in trouble.” You warn him, looking around to see if anyone were looking at you guys. You spot a camera a few feet away but it was nowhere close to you both.

“Don’t worry darling, we won’t. I got you, trust me.” He assures you as he gets himself into position. You shake your head at him while you sip on the coffee you got from Starbucks.

“Wait, so what are you doing again?” You ask.

“I’m going to try and get the ball on my head.” He answers clearly distracted. He digs his sneakers into the floor and prepares himself to bounce the ball. “You ready, darling?”

“No, but go ahead.”

It all happened so quick. Tom being the dumbass he was, underestimated the amount of force he put onto the ball. Instead of the ball bouncing a few feet into the air, it bounces into the next aisle and the next thing you both know you hear a *boing* and a baby crying. You and Tom look at each other with wide eyes. He rushes over to you and helps you maneuver the cart away from the sports section. You’re caged in by his arms, in between the cart and his chest as you both quietly giggle to yourselves.

“I think that’s our cue to leave.” You tell him through more fits of giggles.

The two of you are now in your rented house. You work together in the kitchen, working as a team to figure out the recipe for the pizza dough. Tom is beside you, looking over your shoulder while you both read through the Food Network recipe on your phone.

“Ok, we did all of that. So now we knead the dough, toss it into a bowl and let it rise. Then we could roll it in a little bit.” You read turning your phone off and looking at Tom. He nods and takes the dough out. You sprinkle flour onto your counter and onto the dough as Tom volunteers to knead the pizza dough.

Tom’s Spotify playlist plays lowly in the background. You were both quiet, basking in the comfortable atmosphere between the two of you. Weirdly enough, there was never an awkward moment with Tom. He could say the same thing for you.

You try to avoid the way his arms flex and how his veins pop out as he massages the dough. You glance at his buzzcut hair and ask, “Do you think your hair will grow back by the time you shoot Spider-Man three? Or are we going to have a bald Peter Parker?”

He stops his motions and looks at you shocked, “You’ve watched my Spider-Man movies?”

“Of course I have! I’m a big Marvel fan, my whole family actually is, especially my nephew. We love your version of Spidey—well except my dad and his brother, but besides them we love your version.” You explain. You see a smile twitch onto his lips as he continues his task.

“Wow, thanks. I never thought you’d watch my movies.” Through the warm lights of your kitchen, you see a blush spread onto his cheeks.

“What do you mean?”

Tom stops massaging the pizza dough and looks at you, “Well I’ve—wow this is embarrassing—but I’ve always kinda been a fan of your work. My brothers and I always watch your movies, and they never disappoint us. You’re just amazing! And now I get to work with you, and I’m not going to lie I’m still a bit starstruck, but it’s literally an honor to work with you.”

You look at him taken aback by his confession. You shake yourself out of your shock, “Well I guess that makes the two of us because you still make me a bit starstruck whenever I see you too.”

From that night on, you and Tom always hung out. Whether it be at your house or his, you both managed to spend the entire day together. Sometimes you’d both stay way too late at each other’s house, that you ended up having sleepovers. You guys would still have weekly visits to the VA, doing more research and meeting more veterans. To lighten the mood after, you and Tom would go to Target, get a bunch of junk food and knickknacks, then go to one of your places to watch a movie. The two of you have even explored Cleveland on your own with Harry tagging along once in a while. When Tom found out you were going to be living alone during the duration of filming, he offered that you could stay with him and Harry. Though you didn’t want to intrude on their privacy, both Holland brothers insisted that you live with them. You were still debating on their offer, but you were still spending most of your nights with them anyway.

It was one of those nights again but it was different. Today was the last free day you both had before filming began. It was different because you haven’t portrayed the deeply flawed characters you were both casted as. You and Tom spent the morning at the studio along with the Russos and the rest of the cast doing a table read of the entire movie. Reading and listening to the entire movie out loud made you anxious for the day to come. You were scared that not only you, but Tom, might go down a spiral of darkness throughout the process of this film. Cherry was something new for both of you. Neither of you have worked on a project as cataclysmic or dreadful as Cherry.

You were quitely sat on Tom’s couch staring at the sun setting through his windows. Tom was in the kitchen making the both of you cups of tea to warm you up from the harsh cool air of Cleveland. Harry was in his room, telling you and Tom that he was going to take a nap and to not worry about him. Tom watched you from the kitchen. The sun’s golden rays reflected on your skin, giving it a glow. Your brows were furrowed as you seemed to be deep in thought.

“Wanna sit on the patio and see the sunset from outside?” Tom comes up behind you with a half smile on his lips. You happily nod and take his hand to get off the couch. He slings his arm around you and hands you your jacket. He tells you to go out first and that he’ll meet you outside with the tea.

You sit on the steps of his patio, watching the sky change from shades of blue to a mix of orange, pink, and purple. You hear the door open and footsteps against the wood of the floors. You look up to see Tom holding two cups of tea with a fluffy blanket over his shoulder. A beanie was now on his head and a jumper was pulled over his shirt.

You thank him as he hands you your cup. Tom settles beside you, placing his cup on the steps and began to open up the blanket.

“Why do you have a blanket?” You ask him. He untangles the blanket and puts it over his shoulders, his arm wraps around you, pulling you flush against his side.

“To keep us warm.” He answers while he reaches for his cup. “I tried to find another blanket, but I think Harry took it.”

You brush his comment off, “It’s fine, I like this better.”

A peaceful silence lays upon the two of you as your eyes stare at the sky and your lips sip onto the cup. Tom’s arm remains around you as his fingers draw random patterns onto your arm. Tom was the first to break the silence.

“How do you feel about filming starting tomorrow?” He asks you quietly. Your eyes shift to the tea in your cup.

“Honestly? I’m a bit nervous, especially since we’re starting off with the heroin addiction parts. I don’t know how to feel about it.” You answer.

Tom hums, “I know what you mean. I’m pretty scared too.” Your eyes remove themselves from your cup to look up at Tom.

“Why are you scared?”

“I just—it scares me that all the acting and trying to be in the mindset of Nico might actually affect me. Like maybe by the end of this film, he’ll be a part of me.” He admits, his teeth gritting against each other. You look at him sympathetically. He was truly going through a war in his mind; just by the way he was glaring at the sky and how his fingers stopped drawing on your arm and instead gripped it. It was like he was looking for leverage to stop himself from falling down a loophole of possible outcomes of the end of this movie.

Your hand grasps his hand on your shoulder, catching his attention. His deep brown eyes connect with yours, “You’re not going to turn into Nico, Tom.”

“How do you know that? What if the more I act like him the more I turn into him? (Y/n), what if I get so lost into the character that I eventually loose myself in the process? What do I do when that happens?” He began to ramble, questions spilling from his tongue as he looked at you pleadingly.

You shake your head and squeeze his hand, “It’s not going to happen Tom. You wanna know how I know why?” Tom shakes his head.

“Because we’ll have each other’s backs. I’ll be there right beside you. If you ever feel like you’re spiraling down too deep as Nico, I’ll be there to get you out. You don’t have to go through all of that alone, Tom. I’ll be here for you, you could trust me.” You promise him. Tom’s mind seems to stop racing as his eyes gaze into yours. He finds nothing but honesty in them. You feel his hand fumble with yours before he interlocks them together.

“What if it gets really ugly?”

“You’re allowed to be vulnerable honey, especially around me, I won’t judge. I’ll still be there for you. ” You reassure him. You try to lighten up the mood by bumping your shoulder against his. “Plus, we’re actors, vulnerable is our middle name. How do you think Leo finally got an Oscar?” You joke. The frown on Tom’s face breaks as he stifles a laugh. You smile at the way the corners of his eyes crinkle, he was happy.

Your laughter dies down and you’re staring at him again, “But seriously, Tom. I’ll be here for you whether you like it or not, nobody should have to go through the mental capacity of a heroin addict by themselves.”

Tom nods, “Thank you. I can’t imagine anyone else in my corner but you while we film this. You’ve honestly been such a godsend and we haven’t even started filming yet. Thank you for being so understanding and patient with me.” He smiles fondly at you, pressing a kiss to your temple and pulling you into a hug. You hum in response and place your head in the crook of his neck, “You don’t have to thank me.”

Silence once again consumes the both of you. The birds chirp in the distance and the sky has now turned a dark purple. “You can count on me too. I’ll be there for you.” Tom whispers against your hair. You silently thank him, snuggling closer to his warm embrace. The fears of tomorrow slowly fade from your bodies as you watch the darkness consume the light in the sky.

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #Tom Holland x reader #tom holland imagines #tom holland one shot #tom holland drabble #tom holland headcanon #tom holland fanfiction #Cherry #ally’s request #Peter Parker #Peter Parker x reader #peter parker imagine #Tom Holland fluff

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le0watch · 4 years ago

Text

"the moon is beautiful tonight."

it was said so quietly, langa almost thinks he hadn't actually heard it. he glances to his side, where reki is sitting, his knees hugged to his chest. his cheeks are a deep red, spreading over and across his nose. the moon's light shines brightly, highlighting his face just enough for langa to see the curves of his cheeks, the freckles peppering his skin, the honey amber of his eyes. he's not looking at langa, but at the moon instead, its perfect sphere reflected against the soft candlelight of his gaze.

he's beautiful, stars surrounding the moon's reflection, making his eyes look like a bit of the night sky captured in his skull. langa could get lost staring into them, to forever drift through the stars and galaxies in his amber orbs. a few strands of his fiery hair frames his face, bringing ever more of langa's attention to his gorgeous eyes.

langa can't stop the breath from being caught in his chest. at the way reki blushes so adorably. by why is he blushing? he normally only does following a stream of compliments that langa had released, or due to the brushing of their hands. maybe if due to his gorgeous eyes catching langa's watching him, a softness at their edges.

but none of that had happened. they've sat here together, under the night's sky for about an hour now. it had started off with langa pointing out some of the constellations he knew, followed with reki asking for the stories behind each. and because of the interest langa had taken in them when he'd been younger, he happily obliged, retelling each of the stories he knew behind the shapes of the stars.

his favorite is o'rion. langa likes to imagine that instead of the ancient hero, carved into his place among the stars, that it was reki, instead, forever shining like the sun he is.

he hadn't even been looking at the moon. but now, after reki choked out that sentence, his gaze drifts to it, finding it to be large and full, bright against the black backdrop of the sleeping sky.

he has to agree that it is, in fact, beautiful.

but that still doesn't explain the feather light flush covering reki's cheeks and nose.

a cat with a pure coat of silver fur approaches them, tail held high, curved at its tip. its eyes are an unearthly green, watching the two boys curiously.

"it is," he replied, softly, not wanting to break the state of their quiet comfort. the still of the night they had melded into.

somehow, he thinks, he must have answered wrong. because of smiling back at him, reki frowns, his eyes dropping, chin burying itself in the fabric of his sweater's sleeves. langa frowns, too, guilt rising in the pit of his stomach over a mistake he doesn't understand.

"reki, i-"

"tell me more about the stars, langa," reki said, interrupting him. langa stops, mouth still half way open to form his apology, eyes blinking slowly, like a confused owl. reki looks at him, now, with a bright smile that langa knows is forced. what had he done? he'd messed up again, and he doesn't even know how. and now, reki isn't going to explain why, not now, and langa knows he shouldn't press.

so, he tells him more about the stars. he traces the constellations with his fingetip, and he doesn't comment on how he feels reki's gaze on the side of his face the rest of the time theyre there, laying in the grass, skateboards abandoned nearby.

the silver light cat trots away, tail lowered.

langa later tells joe about the confounding experience. the morning sun's fresh rays of light pours in through the windows, gleaming off of the slicked counter and tabletops. joe pauses in the cleaning of the glass he'd been focused on, eyes darting to langa's face.

"he said what to you, word by word?" joe asked, somehow serious of the smallest of a thing. what does it matter what reki had said? langa did something wrong, making those bright honey amber eyes dull to a brown pebble. he just needs to know what he did, so he knows how he can fix it.

"'the moon is beautiful tonight'," langa repeated, recalling each word easily. he remembers anything and everything reki ever says to him, filing each phrase and thing that leaves his lips in sections of his heart. especially the things that matter most- like the time he'd admitted to wanting to skate with langa forever, the day after that and the day after that!

joe's eyes widen, but his lips quirk upwards into a light smile. he chuckles softly, setting the cup he'd been cleaning aside, with the rest of the drinking cups.

"langa, that phrase holds meaning in our language," joe informs him, and langa's heart skips a beat. oh, no, what if it was something important, and langa had just brushed over it like it was no big deal? what if he'd offended reki, and there was no way of returning the honey he loved to those amber orbs he adored?

"what? what does it mean?" langa asks quickly, desperatly. he needs to make it up to reki as soon as possible, so joe needs to hurry up and tell him already!

another chuckle, and joe leans back against the wall across from the counter, large arms crossed over his even larger chest. "i told kaoru that very phrase, before we were together," he said, instead of answering langa straight on. langa's eyebrows furrow with his confusion and impatience, and he wants to demand that joe just tell him already. but joe is hokding a hand up, probably to calm him. "i told him this phrase on the night we got together. so that he would finally know. i couldn't tell him outright, so saying that instead helped me tremoundously. now, as you know, we're together, because he understood."

his eyes had gone soft as he spoke, remembering the night that he and cherry finally became official. it had been a pretty night, with them standing together a tad off from the rest of the ground, joe's jacket draped over cherry's shoulder. the moon hadn't been to remarkable that night- a small sliver, more dark than actual light. langa recalls just hearing the whisper of joe's words brushing through the air, against his ears.

"the moon is beautiful tonight," joe told cherry, his voice low like it had been a secret. langa's head tilted in confusion when cherry's eyes widened with surprise and disbelief, glazing over with something like admiration. reki beside him had gasped, hands coming up to cover his mouth at the scene, a light pink flushing his face. langa's confusion had only grown, furthered by the rolling of miya's eyes and shadow's blanching noise.

cherry had, surprisingly, pressed closer to, even if a tad begrudgingly. "i'm glad that you do," cherry had finally responded, and didn't sound like he was hissing through the cracks of his teeth anymore.

and then, just like that, they'd been official, and everyone cheered for them, leaving langa behind in his utter confusion.

now, it's dawning on him, and his mouth drops open, heart skipping another beat. he could feel his cheeks heating up, like he was outside in the summer's heat instead of inside in joe's a/c cooled restaurant. joe smiled at him as his eyes went back to his face, nodding a little, confirming langa's suspicions.

langa ran from the building as soon as he knows for sure, needing to find reki right then.

he doesn't find reki until later that day, as the sun sets and the moon is peeking over the horizon. reki is at the skatepark, alone, sitting on top of his board and idly scooting himself side to side. the last of the sun's light catches around him like a halo, making him the sole originator of all sunlight for a moment or two, before it fades, leaving him in shadow.

but langa can still reki's beautiful face, honey amber eyes looking at the cracks in the ground, tracing them almost like they are the constellations fallen to earth. he can't stop himself from smiling, at the freckled face, the lightly tanned skin, the fire red hair and amber eyes.

he makes his way to where he sits, and plops down on his own board beside him. reki jumps a little, not noticing his arrival until he's directly beside him, their bent knees brushing in the middle. the moon is slowly rising, a sliver of it sliced off. but it is still large, still bright and beautiful. like the boy he loves sitting beside him.

"hi, reki," he said in greeting, offering a small smile and wave.

reki flushes a little, already, waving back, shy. "hey, langa," he replied, and looks back up at the star dotted sky, capturing some of it in his eyes once more. if reki's eyes were the universe, langa wouldn't be surprised in the slightest. "wanna tell me about more of the constellations?"

langa hums, a light, song like note. he scoots ever closer to reki, the edges of their boards bumping, their thighs meeting. the flush on reki's face darkens, and his gaze flickers at their connected legs. "maybe in a minute," langa said, and brings their shoulders together. reki goes completely still, knees locking him in place. he leans closer, wetting his lips only a tad nervously. he's waited for so long to say this, and now he could communicate it in the way reki would prefer. he tilts his head towards the dark sky, towards the moon, now halfway high. "don't you think the moon is beautiful tonight?"

it must be the way he says it, because reki's honey amber eyes dart to his, and his flush deepens even further at how close their faces are. langa is now completely invading reki's space, their noses inches apart, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

wide honey amber eyes stare into his own, searching, and he smiles warmly, nodding, a minute thing.

reki's lips part, his gaze drifting to langa's mouth. langa makes sure to lean in closer, slower now, however, to allow reki time to pull away. he doesn't. instead, he leans closer, their noses bumping, brushing against one another intimately.

"me too," reki whispered. his words are nearly stolen by the breeze, but langa catches them, bottles them into a small jar and stores it away to keep forever.

finally, their lips meet, warm and soft and chaste, with only the moon watching.

#OOPS THIS GOT OUT OF HAND LOL #have it i got inspired #sk8 #snowgear #sk8 the infinity #renga #reki kyan #langa hasegawa #drabble #my writing

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itsmoonphobic · 3 years ago

Text

Dream SMP characters and my interpretation of them:

-Techno: The smell of Dirt and soil,blood,wine and old books. Silk pillowcases,golden jewelry,mosaics,stained fingertips, grand staircases,scented candles,storyteller,lazy smiles, secretive,slow dancing,sad resting face,elegant language,cold weather,confident,doubts himself,philosophy, messy braids,glowdust flakes, poetry,graceful movements,neat and cursive handwriting, greek mythology, oriental music,pale skin,libraries,sarcasm, long-lasting friendships,quotes,frosted windows,layering clothes, know-it-all,rude but endearing,pile of papers,cherry blossoms,muted colors,overthinks everything,devotion,logical thinking,insomniac,scattered mind,castle walls,laid back,tired eyes,long debates,show over tell,lingering touches,rulebreaker, dirty palms,old movies freezing feet,old habits,late nights studying,early riser,skips meals,eye bags,tea with milk,velvet jackets,dimly lit by streetlights,ancient wood floors,flowy curtains,art museums, gravely morning voice,echos in the middle of nowhere,sleepy whispers,nostalgia everywhere,red lipstick stains,loves animal more than people,calm and quiet, healing stones,parked car conversations,sharp jaw,obsessed with memes,violins,doves, doves,floats instead of walks,unbroken promises,twisting and winding hair around fingers,nail biting, repeating phrases,mist secret scars,rumors,always wearing earphones,metaphorical, emotions fragile as a flower, speaks with his eyes,fluttery eyelashes,dog lover,forehead kisses,calligraphy,pretty knives,cares too much,lopsided grins,messy desks,talks for hours no,rolling his eyes all the time,powerful strides,wants to conquer the world,slender hands,good grades, dusty book covers,wax stamped envelopes,vintage mirrors

-Phil: The smell of cold air,pine trees and sandalwood.Dead birds and mothballs,stops on the sidewalk to make sure nobody is left behind,morning person,herbal teas,crows,eats breakfast outside,constellations,family portraits on walls, chirping and whistling,crime documentaries,cool father figure, graveyards,weeping angels,meteor shower,many friends but only a single close one,contagious laugh,fragile teacups,fog, early mornings,fuzzy blankets,springs of thyme,bare feet, empty streets,rosemary stems,flickering lanterns,burnt wood bowls,feather collector,antique silverware,a sky full of stars, skylights,torn pages,overstuffed bookshelves,makes you feel comfortable whenever you talk to him,organized,full of ideas, believes in magic,gives the best advice,lost in his own way, warm hugs,scrapbooks and bullet journals,old cars,soft features,daydreaming,bright eyes,getting lost in the woods,moonlight,self knitted sweaters, stargazing on tailgates,the universe,hand in hand with wandering hearts, garage sales,questioning life but feeling at peace,attic bedrooms and haylofts,pursuing science and desiring art, photo albums,hopeless romantic,dark chocolate,open windows and quirky morning rituals,actually knows what brunch is, succulents,a kind-hearted loner,free-spirit,plaid button-ups, always ready to let you rant,abandons projects quickly, complicated past,bold moves,goes with the flow,aims for things that seem unachievable,lives in extremes,knowing smiles,constantly busy with something new,soft touches,love at first sight,naps alot,subsequent tea stains,sparkly eyes, abandoned barns,handwritten notes,feather quills,fascination with the sky,whispering secrets to the wind,great with kids, takes a backpack everywhere,hugs trees,big winter coats,road trips,knows tons of medical info,bites his nails,comforting presence,lost souls,city lights from a high rise

-Wilbur: The smell of fire,smoke,caramel and coffee. Stands up for people who can't for themselves,emotional wreck,loves his family too much but still yells at them,soft turtlenecks,sits in different spots every time he eats dinner,chipped nailpolish, songwriter,probably depressed,wakes up in the middle of the night to write down random thoughts,heartbroken teenager songs,dark psychology and deep meanings,globes and maps, wants to travel and make lots of memories,curls of steam, earbuds in,spattered ink,good singer,keeps to himself,old music and dusty vinyl,the type of person that you could stare at for hours,loud laugh,ride or die,dreams about his future, believes in fresh starts and new beginnings, messy and tangled hair,summer nights,soft features,deep thinker and dimples, having crushes,musicals and theater, half finished diaries and laptop stickers,mixtapes,quirky love notes, secretly kinda insane,always ready for coffee,thrift shops, beachy waves, bonfires,probably drives too fast,cutoff jeans, cream and sugar,nude colors,always creating new problems for himself, fights for equality,long debates and tired eyes, tapping a rhythm and humming quietly,spends all his time on social media,beanie galore,trench coats,foggy glasses,cozy sweaters, dancing around his room to the Beatles,looking out the window when the sun is setting,birkenstocks,guitar strumming on a warm summer evening,bells and chimes,subtle sadness, the feeling of diving into a deep pool,perfect proportions,too many playlists,holding hands,pretty boy,sew on patches and bomber jackets,candid photos,warm sun on bare skin,dancing silhouettes on the sunsets,beach walks at midnight,messy but cozy room,different mood every minute,singing his favorite song at the top of his lungs,sharp grins,haunted houses, paranormal stuff,late night snack runs with friends,explores creeks and lakes,double checks everything he does,walking through hot sand,backyard campfires,acoustic songs,photo booths,train platforms at night,s'mores,sun bleached arbors

-Tommy: The smell of plastic,fresh cut grass and musk. Does the bare minimum at School,unless genuinely interested in a topic,doodles on the side of his paper,movie marathons,empty coca cola bottles everywhere,rope swings,glossy nailpolish,lots of energy,life of the party, kidcore ,can always make you laugh,loves photography,eyestrain and bright colors,bruised knees and untied shoelaces,paperballs in class,brand new red converse,denim jackets,pins and clips,chalk drawings in the middle of the road,every text contains emojis, garden sprinklers,graffiti,wreck this journal,vibrant dyed hair, scribbles and highlighter pens,carnivals,involed in many things, watermelon flavored anything,loves to climb trees,screaming on playgrounds,oversized t-shirts,stained glass windows, anklets,skateboards and hula hoops,milkshakes on the front porch,social butterfly,always in a hurry,pinkie promises,tangled headphones,melted crayons and gummy bears,bean bags and hummingbirds,spinning around till he gets dizzy,chaotic and crazy yet so fun to be around,rushing into things too quickly, roller coasters and derbies,doesn't get knocked back by criticism,cans of fizzy drinks and neon lights,skips school,tye dye shirts and nitendo games,impulse and class clown,sticks stickers on stranger's things,pickpockets his close friends,has to carry a walkie-talkie around with him at all times,sleepovers and sneaking out through windows,pockets full of change and random buttons,stands out in crowds and makes friends easily, pretends to be fearless but is scared of the littlest things,trips and rips his jeans daily,uno cards,social butterfly,music discs, fights with his family but would actually kill for them,broken handwriting,flannels and jerseys around his waist

-Tubbo: The smell of honey,fresh bread and citrus. Lowkey soft, hugging a teddy bear,pressed flowers,eats alot of bread,big hoodies,fairy lights and blanket forts,prank calls while holding in your laughter,beeswax candles,sidewalk dandelions,gentle cuddles on the couch,pastel yellow and cute doodles,flower crowns and diasy chains,plays the ukulele,fascinated by bees and supports local coffee shops,outdoorsy sunshine addict, sparklers and iced lemonade,festivals with fireworks and fireflies in mason jars,homework done as soon as its assigned, watercolor paintings,giggling uncontrollably,long hugs and lazy cartoon afternoons,park dates and forehead kisses,cutting pants into shorts,messy wild hair and pear lollipops,has tiny random braids decorated with golden yarn,hearing the crinkle of leaves underfoot,suprise piggy back rides,adult swim shows and lip gloss stains,being goofy without meaning to,bounces in his step and stops to pet stray animals,baked bread and washi tape bracelets,bike rides and summer picnics,rolling down a hill in the spring and bringing home grass stains on his jeans, waving at someone across a crowded room,spontaneous hang outs and self made clay rings,sitting in the warm sunlit grass on early spring mornings,rock painting and hiding them for other people to find,picking apples from trees but needing to be held up in order to reach one

-Ranboo: The smell of peppermint tea,denim and rain. Is there for everyone but never themselves,regrets things they said but can never find the nerves to apologize,clumps of mascara and winged eyeliner,writes down every tiny thing in notebooks, loves children and their friends,forgetting that they already grabbed a waterbottle,drawing on condensation windows,rainy days and puddles,always on the edge of a breakdown,elevator music and long limbs,old tape recordings and cassettes,moss covered ruins and greenhouses,wanting to be in multiple places at the same time,different colored socks,long hugs and head pats,reading under the covers,collages and spray paint,record players and walks alone through the woods,loves playing by creeks and collecting stones,always wondering and worrying about things they shouldn't,vivid dreams and leather jackets, silver necklaces and piercings,snoozing their alarm clock, seeing the moon in the early morning,blurry photographs and windswept hair,downpours and comfortable silence,wrapping gifts and handing them over with shaking hands,sitting on a rooftop and spontaneous plans,lofi sounds and long train roads,deja vu moments,randomly dissapears and sipping tea, cold concrete and city parks,tickets and brochures from places they visited,dusty parchment and desperately trying to be a good person,wikipedia articles and lace-up boots,often loses track of time while talking to people they love,sings to the radio and avoids conflict if possible,can't sit still for five minutes, perpetually in an emo phase and knows more than they let on, hawaiian shirts,henna tattoos and sparkling water,sleeping in complete darkness and the relief of falling into bed,midnight thunderstorms and anticipation for the coming day,lucky charms and the sound of rain hitting the windows

-Dream: The smell of apples,eucalyptus,vanilla and green tea. Freckles and smiley faces,glow sticks and wrinkled linen, probably a really good singer,wild laughter and jellyfish, popular,tanned skin and cruising with the top down,doesn't take shit from anyone,analytical and self assured,beachy waves and dreamy sunsets,running barefoot,likes being active and on the go at all times,sassy and dramatic as fuck,dream catchers and hammocks,glow in the dark stickers on his phonecase, feisty and a sense of danger,brought home stray cats when he was a child,falling in love with strangers,waking up early and continue laying on the bed,golden hours and 4pm naps,soft aching hands burried in messy hair,center of attention,static and heavy breathing,old percy jackson books under the bed, throwing pebbles at the closed windows of his friends' room, retro diners at 2am,adrenaline junkie and nighttime thriver,will go insane if cooped up indoors for too long,deadlines till last minute,oversleeping and coming home past midnight,naturally a really good surfer,hugs from behind and neck kisses,checking the fridge at 1am,ice cream in bed and cat cuddles,always picks up over facetime

Might make more parts for some of the other guys :)

#mcyt #minecraft youtubers #minecraft #tommyinnit #dreamsmp #wilbursoot #philza #mcytblr #sbi #technoblade #dream #dreamwastaken #ranboo #tubbo #moon is back with all of his awesomeness losers #long post

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kpoppwriter · 4 years ago

Text

Retrouvaille

❧ Genre: Childhood Friend!Yuta x fem!reader

❧ Words: 3.8k+

❧ Synopsis: You never wanted to leave him in the first place but maybe leaving this time is the right thing to do for your sake.

❧ A/N: woop woop here it is finally! Ratatouille is here everyone lmaoooo. it took me 10 days to write but yeah I’m not used to working on one fic for this long (except series obvi). The other fic Ukiyo is going to take a bit longer as there’s a lot I have left to write with that one

~※ Main Masterlist ※~

The air was cool, not too cold that you needed a jacket however. The slight breeze danced over your skin giving you goosebumps. A few stray cherry blossom petals fell onto the sidewalk. You picked one up. It was so smooth and delicate. You admired the petal before shoving it into your pocket. You continued to walk down the street towards your house.

“Y/N!”

You turned around at the sound of your name. A smile spread across your lips as you saw Yuta running to catch up with you. He stopped in front of you hitting your shoulder playfully.

“You didn’t wait for me!” he pouted

“You were taking forever,” you quipped, “Plus, I have to be home on time today.”

“Oooh did you get in trouble or something?”

“No, I’m not like you, Yuta.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and ran a bit ahead of him so he couldn’t hit you again. He just shook his head at you in mock anger. The two of you continued to walk home. You told him about the funny joke one of your classmates said and he told you about the newest gossip in the lunchroom. You eventually stopped in front of your house.

“If ya need me, you know where to find me!”

Yuta waved at you as he walked to the house next door. He unlocked the door and stepped inside. You were so happy your best friend was also your neighbor. You sighed contently as you walked into your own home.

“We’re moving?!”

“Your father got a promotion so we have to move back to the States,” your mother explained, “This wasn’t a permeant living situation, honey.”

“What about school and my friends? What about..” you could feel a lump forming in your throat, “What about Yuta?”

“You’ll make new friends at your new school. You were always so good at making friends,” your father reassured you

“I don’t want new friends! I want to stay here!”

You got up from the table and ran up to your room. Tears were streaming down your face. You fell onto your bed, your face buried into a pillow. You let out your sobs, too overcome with anger and sadness to stop them. You heard a light tapping on your window pulling you from your thoughts. You wiped your eyes as you looked over to the window. There on the small bit of roof under your window sat Yuta, his face full of confusion and sadness. You got up and opened the window.

“I told you not to jump to my window,” you sniffled

“Why’re you crying?” he asked ignoring your scolding

You opened your mouth to tell him but you couldn’t get the words out. You didn’t want them to be true. Instead of telling him, you grabbed his arm and pulled him into your room. You wrapped your arms around his torso tightly, your face buried into his chest. Yuta said nothing. He hugged your back, his hand gently petting your head. He let you cry some more into his chest, not worried about the tear stains you were leaving on his shirt. He waited until your cries turned into sniffles before he asked you what was going on.

“I’m leaving,” you whispered

“Leaving?” he stared at you, “What do you mean leaving?”

“My family’s moving back to the States.”

“You just moved here a few years ago! How can you go back already?”

“My dad got a promotion,” you wiped your eyes, “I don’t have a choice, Yuta. It’s already settled.”

Yuta said nothing. He just held you tighter like you’’d disappear in front of his eyes if he let you go.

You watched your parents packed up the luggage and extra boxes into the rental car from the window. You had your backpack on and your own luggage beside you. You rolled it out to the curb. You tried to look at every little detail around you so you’d have the most perfect mental image of this place you called home for so long. You never wanted to forget a single detail. Your eyes locked onto Yuta, who had been sitting outside on the curb in front of his house. He looked over at you and sent you a sad smile. You walked over and plopped down next to him.

“So this is it,” he whispered

“Yeah I guess it is,” you sighed

You stared at each other, unsure of what to say now. Something popped into your mind. You quickly pulled off your backpack and began searching through it.

“Hold on.”

You pulled out a yellow and pink woven bracelet. You took his wrist and tied the bracelet around it. He studied the woven thread around his wrist.

“I made that for you,” you said, “And I made myself a matching one.”

You showed him your wrist with the same bracelet on it. He smiled widely.

“Now you can’t forget about me. I’m struck to you.”

“Thank you,” he giggled, “I won’t ever take it off.”

“You better not Nakamoto,” you narrowed your eyes at him, “I will come back here and beat you up if you do.”

You father called out for you from the car. You and Yuta stood up, exchanging one last hug before you left. It lasted a little longer than normal hugs but you weren’t complaining. You walked back to the car, peaking over your shoulder to see if Yuta was watching. He was watching with tears in his eyes. You got in the car and drove off leaving the home you once knew behind you.

You threw your duffle bag in the corner of the dance studio. You inspected the room, this dance studio was new to you. You had just moved to Korea from the States to work as a dance instructor for kpop idols. You were honored at the opportunity but felt like you were a bit in over your head. You’ve never worked with such big clients before. You just sighed, knowing you’d be fine once you got over the initial nerves.

You were digging around in your bag when you heard the studio door open. You turned around and saw a man bowing politely at you. You returned the gesture. He put down his own bag off by the wall then began to stretch. You couldn’t help staring at the man, his handsome face and amazing physic was making you a bit flustered. Your eyes moved from his face down to his arms. He was wearing a simple black t-shirt so you were able to see his arms in full. You noticed something around his wrist, a small bracelet that looked worn and almost colorless. You could see the faint colors, a simple yellow and pink design. Your eyes went wide. Yellow and pink bracelet...

“Hey,” you pointed at the man’s wrist, “Where did you get that?”

He looked at you, his expression laced with confusion. He followed your finger to his wrist, smiling when he realized what you were looking at.

“It was a gift from a childhood friend,” he reminisced, “They were someone i really cared about. I promised I wouldn’t take it off.”

“Or they’d beat you up.”

You pulled up your sleeve, exposing your own frayed bracelet with the exact same design as his. The man stood up quickly and grabbed your wrist.

“Y/N?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around you and he lifted you off the ground. He gently placed you back on the ground, pulling away to look at you properly.

“It’s been a while, Yuta,” you smiled widely

“It’s been too long, Y/N.”

You finished up the dance practice a little earlier than expected, the boys of NCT 127 picking up the choreography rather quickly. They bowed at you as they each took their leave. You grabbed your water from your duffle bag, taking a drink while you packed it up. You picked up your bag and left the dance studio. Waiting outside, leaning up against the wall in front of the door, was Yuta.

“Y/N,” he approached you, “You doing anything now?”

“I was going to get some lunch.”

“Perfect.”

He grabbed your wrist and started pulling you towards the entrance of the SM building. You tried to wriggle out of his grasp while laughing. When you got outside, you got your wrist out of his grip.

“What are you doing?” you laughed

“Taking you to lunch,” he smiled

You happily enjoyed your lunch with Yuta, using the time alone together to catch up. It had been years since you saw each other so there was much to catch up on. You ended up going to lunch the next day as well...and the day after that. Going to lunch after practice became a normal thing for the two of you. You slowly began to learn and relearn everything about your long lost friend. You were so happy to have him back in your life.

You spent your weekdays rehearsing and teaching choreographies to NCT. your weekends however were your free days but even on your free days you spent time with the boys and of course with Yuta. All the time you spent with Yuta started to have a different effect on you though, an effect you didn’t expect. You were becoming so close again but this time was different. You didn’t just see him as a friend anymore. You thought there could be more to your relationship. You had caught feelings for him. Of course, you refused to let your budding feelings change your friendship. You didn’t want to deal with the rejection if you did tell him you had feelings for him. Instead, you kept it all bottled up.

You were at the dorms hanging out with some of the members. They were having a movie day and invited you over. You were curled up on the couch with a blanket, Yuta also curled up beside you. You all were waiting to start the movie, Taeil and Jungwoo still in the kitchen preparing the snacks.

“Did you guys hear about the event SM is having?” Doyoung said as he walked into the dorm living room

“Yeah, we all got an invite,” Taeyong clarified

“Who’s going?”

Even though you had just starting working for SM, you also got an invite to this event. Of course if the boys were going to go, you’d be there too. It would be good to get to know other people beside NCT.

“I am,” you spoke up

“I’ll go too then,” Yuta smiled at you

You were thankful someone else started speaking as a pink blush formed on your neck. You didn’t want Yuta to see how his words could effect you like this. Not only would he tease you relentlessly but he’d get a bit suspicious as to why they had such an effect on you. You didn’t want him to know you liked him. That’d just make everything messy.

A few more people agreed to go to the event, which you were happy about. It’d be fun to hang out with the other boys outside of the dorms or the dance studio for once. It was also an excuse to see everyone dressed up. You were pulled out of your thoughts when Taeil and Jungwoo came into the living room with the snacks. Everyone got comfortable in front of the tv before Taeyong hit play. You found it hard to pay attention to the movie playing, thoughts of your first SM event occupying your mind. They were rather distracting especially since they were filled with images of Yuta. You shook your head, trying to clear those intrusive thoughts away so you could pay attention the movie rather than your feelings for your best friend.

You stood by yourself in the corner of the room sipping on some champagne. You glanced down at your phone yet again. You were starting to get impatient waiting for the boys to arrive at the event. You felt a little awkward just standing by yourself.

“Excuse me?”

You looked up to find a rather attractive man standing in front of you. He apparently noticed how you were standing alone and thought he’d come join you. You explained you were waiting for your friends. He said he’d keep you company in the meantime, if you wanted. Not seeing the harm in making some new friends, you agreed.

The moment Yuta walked into the event, his eyes scanned the room for you. His head quickly turned when he heard your laughter. When he saw you acting rather friendly with another guy, he felt his blood boil. Who was this guy and what was he doing around you? Yuta started making his way over to you, hoping to split up whatever was going on. You caught sight of Yuta as he walking over, not noticing how upset he looked. You waved at him before excusing yourself. You jogged over to Yuta happily.

“I was wondering when you’d get here!” you smiled

“We got caught in traffic,” Yuta mumbled, “Let’s go over to the others.”

You let Yuta bring you over to the other members, all thoughts of the man from before completely leaving your mind. Off near the entrance, some of the members stood at a table drinking and talking amongst themselves.

“Hey Y/N,” Johnny greeted you as you and Yuta walked up

“Hey there,” you smiled, “You guys looked nice.”

They thanked you before going back to their conversations. You joined in, completely ignoring Yuta once again. You couldn’t tell but he was becoming rather agitated with how you basically pushed him off to the side. He figured that if you weren’t going to pay attention to him, he might as well go find someone that would.

You didn’t even notice Yuta was gone at first. When you looked for him, you found him standing with a girl. A really attractive girl. You watched how he shamelessly flirted. The girl was clearly enjoying the attention, her face tinted pink. You felt a lump growing in your throat but swallowed it knowing you had no reason to be feeling this way. He was only your friend…just a friend. You downed your glass of champagne and placed it on the table beside you. You didn’t say anything to Yuta or the other boys. You just left.

You were almost to your car when you heard someone calling your name. You glanced back and saw Yuta standing there staring at you with a look of disbelief on his face. You just kept walking to you car. You tried to ignore him- he was still calling out to your name- but he ran up to your car grabbing your wrist to keep you from getting into the car.

“Hey, where are you going?” he asked

“I’m going home.”

“Why? We haven’t even been here that long.”

His words came out a bit rougher than he intended. He sounded so annoyed. Your eyebrows furrowed and you pulled your wrist out of Yuta’s grasp.

“I’m feeling really tired. I’m heading home now.”

You attempted to get into your car but as you opened the door, Yuta pushed it closed. You turned around to face him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re not actually tired. What’s going on?”

“I’m...” you sighed, “I just need to go.”

Yuta didn’t stop you from getting you into the car this time. You drove away, leaving him alone out in the cold night.

“I think I should quit working with SM,” you groaned

“What?! This is like your dream job!” your friend exclaimed over the phone, “What would you do if you did leave anyway?”

“Maybe go to another company or just move back to the States-”

“No, you’re not coming back,” your friend stated

“Why?” you whined, “If I’m not happy here I should be allowed to come back!”

“You’re just saying all of this because you don’t want to face the facts.” she

“What do you mean?”

“You love Yuta.”

You were stunned at her words. You didn’t think she’d be so brazen (and you didn’t think you were being that obvious). You sputtered out a lie saying you didn’t actually like him, he was just your childhood friend.

“You’re not a good liar,” she laughed, “You clearly like him! Why else would you be so jealous at the thought of him flirting with someone else?”

“Well, I just know what’s-”

“Oh, ‘you know what’s best for him’. That’s not a good excuse,” she sighed, “Don’t act like the jealous best friend. You either need to tell him the truth or you can run away.”

Tell him the truth or run away...which one would be easier in the end? Too emotionally drained to decide that now, you ended the call with your friend and went to bed. Hopefully tomorrow would be an easier day.

The next week went by as normal. You held practice a few days and on your days off, you were at home alone. You saw Yuta sometimes if he decided to come to practice but never exchanged words. He seemed mad at you; he barely acknowledged your presence when you weren’t teaching. You could tell he didn’t want you here. He didn’t care. You felt the lump growing in your throat at that thought. That was enough of a sign for you. You should go back to the States.

You handed in your resignation to SM before you left for the day. Two weeks would be enough time for you to pack your life up. You had the whole weekend to yourself so you could start getting everything situated. You gripped the strap of your duffle bag tightly as you walked the dark streets. There was no going back now.

“Y/N!”

Jungwoo waved to you as you walked down the hall towards the dance studio. You waved back; the smile on his face was far too contagious and a smile appeared on your lips. You were happy to be starting off your week with someone that seemed to enjoy your company.

“Hey Jungwoo.”

“Is it true?” his smile disappeared, “You’re leaving?”

“Wait how-”

“You’re leaving, Y/N?” Mark asked

You hadn’t noticed them walking up but a few of the other members were now standing beside Jungwoo, all of them looking at you confused.

“Yeah,” you sighed, “I’m heading back to the States.”

“But what about your job here?”

“I quit.”

It was obvious the boys didn’t know what to say, their silence was deafening. Instead of lingering in the sadness, you ushered them all into the practice room to start rehearsals. Yuta didn’t show up until later and of course he didn’t say anything to you. You just decided not to tell him you were leaving. You figured he wouldn’t even talk to you anyway if you tried.

You got home earlier than usual, the boys were super on it and you were more than happy with their progress so you ended practice early. You were working on packing up your knick knacks and other decor in your apartment. You had music on and you had left your phone in the kitchen so you didn’t notice it going off repeatedly. You did however hear the loud knocking on your door. You turned down your music before heading to the front door thinking it was a neighbor or something. You were a bit taken aback when you saw Yuta standing on the other side of the door.

“What’re you doing here?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He was clearly angry. It looked like smoke would come out of his ears any second. You didn’t say anything, knowing he was talking about your move back to the States. You walked back into your home, Yuta following you after closing the door behind him.

“Y/N-”

“How was I supposed to tell you when you wouldn’t talk to me?” you huffed, “You barely acknowledged me, let alone talk to me. How was I supposed to tell you when you wouldn’t even look at me?”

Yuta was silent. He knew he was wrong. He had known this for a while but something broke inside him when he found out through Jungwoo that you were moving. He had hoped that you would’ve at least told him this news yourself. You could feel yourself getting hot with anger, all of your pent up emotions finally getting ready to be released right here and now.

“I wished and hoped that I’d get a chance to see you again and here you are but instead of having my best friend back I got some sort of double edged sword. One minute you’re acting all sweet with me then the next you’re ignoring me and angry with me like I did something wrong!”

You hadn’t noticed you were crying until a tear dripped off your face onto your hand. You wiped the tears away roughly. Yuta’s expression had softened slightly at the sight of your tears. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and let you cry into his chest like he did when you were kids.

“I thought that meeting by chance all these years later was some sort of destiny or fate but maybe it was just a mistake.”

Your words were like venom. Yuta felt like he was going to start crying himself. He hated this. He hated how he did this to you. His petty attempt at revenge wasn’t worth losing you. He reached out towards you but you kept your distance.

“Please let me explain.”

“No there’s nothing to explain-”

“I love you.”

Those three words took the air out of your lungs. The whole world stopped in that moment. Neither of you said anything but your stares spoke volumes. You tried to contain the sob rising in your throat but it still escaped. Yuta couldn’t hold back any longer. He came over and wrapped your trembling body up in his arms, his hand softly stroking your head. You let the tears flow freely, not caring about how they’d stain his shirt.

“I love you too,” you whispered

Yuta leaned back slightly to look at you. Even with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, you were beautiful. He cupped your cheek delicately as his lips captured yours. They molded against yours like they were meant to be together. His lips tasted sweet like peppermint and chocolate. You could get drunk off that taste. His arm snaked around your waist so he could hold you close. You relaxed into his arms letting your shyness melt away. Your arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to you. Yuta pulled away first so he could catch his breath.

“Don’t leave,” he breathed against your lips

You just nodded, your lips capturing his again.

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sheerfreesia007 · 4 years ago

Text

Lipstick Stains

Title: Lipstick Stains

Fandom: Kingsman

Pairing: Agent Tequila x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007

Words: 2,694

Warnings: soft smut, dry humping (I feel so juvenile typing this but that’s what this is), public dry humping

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite, @linkpk88, @weirdowithnobeardo

Author Notes: This was inspired by looking at a picture of a lip print on a mirror. So this was much softer than I had planned but I loved it! I’m so soft for Tequila.

The sun was beating down on your back as you bent over the ground piercing your shovel into the hard earth. Grunting softly you strained your arms and lifted out another shovel full of hard dusty soil. The soft thud of the dirt sounded out in the air as you tried to diligently work at the roots of the rotted dead apple tree in your front yard. But while you tried to work the sun was making it harder and harder not to stop and just lay out in it’s heated rays. Not to mention the sweat that was pouring off your body at the moment.

The soft clink of another shovel piercing the earth reached your ears and you turned your head to look over at Tequila, your best friend. Grinning softly you stand to your full height stretching out your muscles and groaning softly. The two of you had been working for a good few hours now and the hard labor was starting to seize your muscles. You would be feeling this all tomorrow.

“Ya know I can’t thank ya enough Tequila for helpin’ me out.” You say softly as you swipe the back of your hand across your forehead whisking away the sweat that beaded your skin. You lean against your shovel and watch as he stands to his full height as well and pulls his gray t-shirt away from his stomach and brushes it across his face clearing away the sweat that has gathered. Your eyes dart down to the exposed skin of stomach and you have to stop yourself from melting at the sight. His bronzed skin glistens in the sun and you can see the six pack that he’s been hiding. You feel yourself begin to drool and shake your head looking back up to him hoping he didn’t see you ogling him.

“Are ya kiddin’ me? I wanted to spend my day off pulling up a rotted apple tree.” Tequila teases you good naturedly and you roll your eyes at him in response. He lets his shirt fall back down to rest over his stomach hiding it from your view before he slams the pointed tip of his shovel into the dirt and it stands tall next to him. Your eyes widen then as you watch him reach an arm back behind his head and grab the collar of his shirt and slide it slowly up his body and over his head. “ ‘sides Ma would kill me if she heard you were trying to pull this up on your own.” he chastises you with a grin as he swipes his shirt across his forehead and then down his body before tossing it over to your little cooler that you had brought out earlier for your water bottles.

You feel your breath leave your body and with it you think your soul has escaped as well. Your eyes are darting all over his topless form and you try your hardest to pull your eyes to safe territory like his shoulders and up. But as your eyes slowly trace his body traveling upward you feel a heated blush start to overtake your face making you that much more uncomfortable in the heat. When your eyes do reach his shoulders you admire the thick muscles that he’s developed there and you feel your knees weaken slightly. Gripping your shovel’s handle tightly your eyes finally come to rest on his and he’s smirking wickedly at you.

“Ya done inspector?” he asked teasingly and you blushed even harder at being caught checking out your best friend. Scoffing softly you turn back to the stubborn apple tree root and Tequila chuckles gleefully next to you. “You know if you wanted a closer look all ya gotta do is ask honey pot.” he teases you using your childhood nickname that he had given you. You feel flustered at hearing the old nickname and whip your head to look at him and see that he’s standing much closer to you now. He’s grinning widely at you and his ice blue eyes are sparkling with that teasing light that you’ve seen throughout your whole relationship. You watch silently for a moment as he leans even closer and you suck in a breath before he’s turning with a sly grin on his face and you know he was only teasing you.

“Whatever, let’s just get this done you’re starting to stink.” you grumble out as you turn back to the root and with all your strength slam your shovel into ground again.

“You like it when I stink.” Tequila quips back and you scoff as you shake your head. “I smell like roses when I sweat.” he boasts as he begins to dig out the root as well.

“Who told you that?” you questioned incredulously as the two of you work. “Whoever it was lied to you because I’ve smelt you when you’re sweaty and it’s the farthest thing from roses.” you explain scrunching up his nose.

“I’m pretty sure it was the last lady who was underneath me who told me that.” Tequila says nonchalantly and you freeze as your mind races with images of Tequila above you sweating in a completely different way. Your whole body is heated at this point and you clenched your thighs together at the image of Tequila thrusting above you as his large sturdy arms caged you in below him.

Shaking your head you don’t respond and try to focus back on digging out the root. You’ve known Tequila since you two were in diapers, your mothers were best friends so when the two of you came along it was inevitable that it’d be the same for you. But while you were sure that Tequila only saw you as his best friend you had developed feelings for him that were more romantic back in middle school. And while now you two were now full fledged adults with careers your feelings had never changed for him, if anything they had softly grown into a beautiful secretive love for him.

It hadn’t always been easy to keep your feelings a secret from him, sometimes you felt as if he knew that you were in love with him. Or that he knew you cared for him greatly but neither of you mentioned it and it was just easier to resist the pull you had to him because you valued your friendship with him far greater than a love that you thought would not be reciprocated.

“Hey you alright?” Tequila asked concerned and you were instantly pulled out of your thoughts quickly. Turning your head to look up at him he was leaning against the handle of his shovel and watching you with calculating eyes.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just lost in thought.” you said nodding your head as you turned back to the root. Slamming your shovel into the dirt you felt it sink in and you cheered as you pushed on the handle so that the shovel would lift the problematic root out of the earth. “Fucking finally.” you gushed out happily and kept pushing on the handle.

Tequila moved around to sink his own shovel in next to yours and help lift the root out of the ground. When the two of you had most of it out of the ground Tequila gripped the tree and yanked it out of the ground. As he dragged it farther away from the hole you cheered and did a little dance at the accomplishment. Tequila laughed and grabbed one of your hands and twirled you into his arms doing a quick little dance with you as you laughed and cheered.

Finally when your elation to finally getting the root out of the ground came to an end you realized that you were cradled in Tequila’s arms comfortably and you felt your body begin to melt into him. Panic seized you a little and you placed your hands on his naked sweaty chest as you looked up at him.

“This calls for a reward.” you rushed out happily and watched as Tequila’s eyes widened slightly at your words.

“I couldn’t agree more.” he husked out and began to lean down towards you. Completely missing his intention you moved out of his arms and raced towards the front of your house. Tequila watched in exasperation as you rushed into your house and came out a minute later holding two ice pops in your hands. He burst out in laughter at your gesture and the joy on your face. “Not what I had in mind but I will never turn down an ice pop.” he mused to himself softly as you neared him holding out the bright orange ice pop to him. He graciously took the ice po from you and the two of you moved to sit under the large oak tree in the corner of your yard.

Here the shade was cool and so refreshing after all of your hard work getting that tree root out. Tequila sat and leaned his back against the trunk of the tree absent mindedly licking the ice pop. He grinned as you sat next to him and pressed up against his side with your shoulder. Turning his head to look down at you he watched as you placed the ice pop on your tongue and closed your lips around it before slowly dragging it out of your mouth with a pop. Internally groaning Tequila turned away from you and felt his pants begin to tighten around a certain area.

“Thanks again Tequila.” you said softly as you gently leaned your head against his shoulder. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you both watched your small neighborhood in the late afternoon.

“It was no bother honey pot.” he said softly and you smiled at the nickname now. Turning your head to look up at him your eyes danced over his profile before they trailed downwards to his neck and then the expanse of his chest and shoulders. Your eyes surveyed the skin over his shoulder closest to you and without thought you leaned forward and pressed a closed mouth kiss to his skin. It was a gesture of thanks and affection for him, once you had often given to him before. Normally it was a quick peck to his cheek but today his shoulder had called to you.

When you pulled away you didn’t notice Tequila turning his head to look down at you with a bemused smile because you were too focused on the almost translucent red lip print on his skin. The contrast between his bronzed skin and the cherry red lip print made desire curl in the pit of your stomach. There was just something about marring his skin with your lip print that spoke to something primal in you and you wanted to do it more.

“Honey pot?” Tequila asked softly and your head snapped up to look at him. His eyes were dilated as he watched you looking at him. It was as if the two of you had a silent conversation with each other and suddenly you were moving to straddle his waist as his arms wrapped loosely around your hips keeping you steady against him. Your hands danced softly up and down his chest feeling the muscles under his skin jump and clench under your ministrations.

Your eyes were darting around his chest trying to figure out where you wanted to put your second mark on him. When your eyes landed on his left pectoral muscle your eyes lit up with delight. Leaning forward you slid your hands down to rest against his ribs and you pressed your lips to his pectoral muscle making it jump underneath you and Tequila stuttered out a breath. When you pulled away and saw the cherry stain on his skin you grinned widely with pride.

“You look good with my lip print on you.” you said softly as you leaned forward and placed another kiss to his right pectoral muscle. Tequila’s hands gripped your hips tighter and he dragged you closer on his lap making the two of you moan softly.

“Fuck honey pot. Before we go further I need to know you want this as much as I do.” he husks out softly. You look up at him with loving eyes and a soft smile on your face.

“I’ve wanted you this way since freshman year of high school.” you whispered out to him and watched as his eyes widened with realization.

“Since that long?” he asked in a whisper and you nodded your head eagerly with a self degrading smile.

“Knew I was in love with you back in middle school and just had my sexual awakening the night of your first football game in high school.” you confided in him. He tilted his head at you and then grinned knowingly.

“When you-” he began but you cut him off quickly.

“Yeah, yeah when I walked in on you changing in the locker room.” you said quickly trying to move on from the topic of conversation.

“Wait so when you told me that you didn’t see anything that night were you lyin’?” Tequila asked suddenly with a knowingly smirk and you felt your face flush deeply. “Is that why you had your sexual awakening?” There was no point in lying and you weren’t ready yet to confess that you had seen everything that night to him so you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his right collarbone.

Tequila shifted under you as you continued to press kisses along his skin against each collarbone. You hummed softly when you felt his tented groin brush against your core. When you finished placing kisses along his left collarbone you pressed a kiss to the hollow of his neck and he gasped out softly.

“I know what you’re doing.” he rushed out in a soft relaxed tone and you hummed absent mindedly as you trailed kisses up the side of his neck to his ear.

“You know nothing.” you whispered into his ear and he shivered as you bit down on his ear lobe gently. Tequila’s hands slid from your hips to cup your ass in his large palms and ground you down on top of him as he bucked up. The sensation of his dick grazing your core through both of your pants had you panting against his neck as he continued to grind you down and his hips bucking up.

“Oh I know everything honey pot.” he husked out as he moved your hips against his. You moaned into his ear and he began to move you faster against him. “I knew you were in love with me even though for the life of me I could never figure out why ya wouldn’t say anything. I knew you saw me that night all because you couldn’t keep that damn pretty blush off your face the whole game. And I knew I was in love with you that night.” he explained softly as he moved the two of you against each other.

You gasped and threw your head back as your orgasm rushed through you. Your hips ground down harshly against Tequila’s bucking hips and he grunted deeply. “Shit, shit, shit.” he chanted as you gyrated your hips against his. Your hands were splayed against his naked chest and you were pressing him back into the trunk of the tree as you rode out your high on him. “Fuck honey pot you made me come in my dang pants.” Tequila husked out and you grinned proudly at that information. You couldn’t believe that you had just done that with him.

“C’mon Tequila we’re not done. Let’s go take a shower and get clean. I've got a tube of red lipstick I wanna test out on you.” you whispered to him as you leaned forward and pressed a loving kiss to his lips. Tequila hummed delighted as he deepened the kiss wrapping his arms around you. Standing with you in his arms you squealed as he began walking towards the front of your house.

#agent tequila #agent tequila x reader #kingsman the golden circle #My writing

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

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( SWEET MAGNOLIAS. )

He was your unlikely muse; you were the weird girl in the park. Could you make it any more obvious?

pairing. myg x named f!reader. s2l.

genre + rating. college!au. fluff, angst, smut. explicit.

tags / warnings. light cussing, yoongi being rightfully weirded out, a whole lotta softness, sadness if you squint at the right times, body painting, and then, of course, the most tender, dumbest lovemaking (unprotected but don’t be silly like them!). there’s also a really bad callback to the titanic. i’m not sorry. lol.

wc. 8.2k

You try not to stare for too long, sweeping your gaze in wide circles so as to be as inconspicuous as possible. You try not to let your eyes linger, follow the contours of his cheeks - soft, pronounced when he smiles - or the shape of his mouth - delicate, petal pink. You try not to make it weird - but it’s decidedly, very weird.

You just can’t help yourself.

He’s always here around this time, laid out on a worn red blanket. Sometimes, he reads. Books like The Alchemist and the Stranger and once, Dante’s Inferno. Other times, he pops a pair of headphones on - oversized, intimidatingly large over his ears - and closes his eyes. Most rare of all, is when he’s not alone, joined at the hip by at least one other boy and on occasion, an entire group of six.

They’re all interesting in their own ways.

There’s one with shoulders the size of boulders, a mountain range situated beneath his shirts. He has a weird laugh that sounds like windshield wipers and your mother’s spring cleaning routine. He yells a lot and even across the lawn, you can sometimes make out his voice.

There’s the tallest one, with kind eyes and dimples so deep you question if there’s treasure buried in them. He reads a lot, too. You’ve seen him in the library more times than you can count, always dutifully tucked away in a back corner surrounded by scattered looseleaf. Despite the course load he seems to have taken on, you’ve never seen him lose his cool. You have seen him lose his phone, though, and pencils and textbooks and AirPods.

There’s Hoseok, whose name you only know because he held your hair once at a fall sorority party. You hadn’t been drinking but somehow, somehow, your roommate had convinced you to apple bob with her. He’d been gracious enough to help you out, fisting your hair in a gentle grip. It’s what spurred you to now always have an elastic on your wrist.

There’s the dancer. He’s slight and even in stillness, far more graceful than you’ll ever be. He’s got pillowy lips and hair that gleams like silk. You’ve sketched him too, once or twice, but never more. It just didn’t feel right - as if you’d never be able to translate that sort of beauty onto paper.

There’s the one from your Art 340 Drawing II class. You’ve wondered, on more than one occasion, how come he isn’t the model. He’s got perfect proportions - defined jaw, strong nose, cheekbones carved from marble. It’s almost off-putting seeing him in person; it feels far more fitting for him to be displayed in a museum, with a plaque that reads Perfection, Mixed Media.

There’s the youngest one, Jungkook. They call him maknae despite the fact that he dwarfs nearly all of them. Maybe it’s just the clothes he wears: boots that look like they’d break your neck and everything in slightly darker shades of black. You run into him at least four times a week - trading greetings at the campus coffee shop and at the library. You’re practically best pals by college standards.

And then, of course, there’s him. Your muse. The one you can’t help but stare at - even when you’re trying your hardest not to. The one who wears glasses though you’re almost certain he doesn’t need them. The one whose smile is more gums than teeth, who looks unassuming and yet often breaks out into the strangest, most inspired dance moves you’ve ever seen. The one who plays recreational basketball on Tuesday nights and who drinks more coffee than you think should be humanly possible.

Min Yoongi.

You sketch him like you’ll never see him again, dragging charcoal strokes across paper until your hand is muddied and the curve of his ear is looking worse for wear. You repeat lines over and over, turning the mop of his hair into ringlets and waves, weaving dimension through the india ink that spills over his eyes. You sometimes add his glasses; you’re quite fond of the look on him.

You paint him sometimes, too, imagining how he’d look with periwinkle blue hair, or maybe dressed in shades of maroon. You swath him in textured fabrics and lovely watercolours, turning him into a fantasy that’ll never see the light of day. Pretty little daydreams with him fixed at the centre.

You fill your pages with his figure, the way he smiles when Hoseok does something silly or how he joins in when Jungkook laughs. You study every bit and piece, learning him in every admiring way you can - despite the fact that you don’t really know him at all.

It’s a staggering lesson in futility but one you take almost daily, armed with pencil and paper and not a single ounce of common sense.

That is, until you’ve done the stupidest thing imaginable.

No, not getting caught. Not in the traditional sense, at least. He hasn’t realised you sit on your bench - yes, your bench, with the sticky metal arm rest and illegible initials scratched into the back - and watch him almost every day. You thank your lucky stars for that.

What you’ve done is much worse - punishable by death by embarrassment.

You have no fucking clue where your sketchbook is.

You could’ve sworn you had it in your bag when you’d returned to your room last night. You can’t imagine you would’ve left it anywhere in the open, orphaning it on a campus full of idiots. You were always so careful. You don’t just lose things.

“I think it’s gone, girl.” You’ve never wanted to yell at your roommate more - not even when you’d caught her and her boyfriend banging in your bed after you’d come home early on the long weekend or when she’d eaten all of your Cherry Garcia ice cream. The desire bubbles about in your chest, fizzing angrily like an agitated soda bottle.

“It’s here somewhere.” The words grit between your teeth, insistent as can be.

“You’ve been looking for like, twenty minutes.”

“It’s here.”

“I really don’t think it is…” Jisoo doesn’t quite deserve how you explode, rounding on her with hands flying and eyes wild. “You’re also going to be late for your class.”

Your words falter with the verbalisation of hers.

Lucky for her; unlucky for you.

The hands of the clock above your desk wave at you mockingly. You are, indeed, going to be late for your class.

“Shit! Shit!” Everything you’d torn out gets shoved back into your tote bag. Band-Aids, mints, too many wayward pencils and pens. You almost forget your phone, attention only drawn to it when Jisoo catches the strap of your backpack and yanks you back.

“Don’t forget,” she hums, far more kindly than your harebrained self deserves.

You forget all the reasons you’re upset with her. “Thanks, Ji.” You force a kiss on her cheek before you’re darting out of your room and sprinting across campus to Art 340.

“Nice of you to join us, Miru.” It’s your professor greeting you as you run in fifteen minutes late, weaving through other students to find your seat near the far wall. Laughter follows you, coiling around your ankles and over your shoulders as you settle into your seat, fully hidden behind the oversized easel.

You can’t help the scarlet that paints your cheeks, creeping high across your temples. You know no one cares - that Professor Kinsella is probably the most laidback professor you’ve had in your four semesters - but it can’t be stopped. You’re already flustered from temporarily misplacing your sketchbook that everything else just feels like shit icing on your garbage cake.

“Sorry!” It squeaks out - a mouse, eaten up wholly by cat-ate-the-canary laughter that sounds over your shoulder and not very quietly.

“Having a bad day?”

You’ve heard the voice a handful of times so it shouldn’t shock you the way it does, nearly knocking the graphite from your hand.

“What?”

Kim Taehyung’s on the edge of his chair, one long leg stretched toward you, the other balanced across his knee. You’re not sure how that’s meant to be comfortable but he makes it look effortless. Then again, looking like him, living probably was effortlessly. You can’t deny you’re a little envious.

“Your face is all red. You’re out of breath. Feels like a bad day to me.”

You try not to dwell on the fact that, apparently, you look like an absolute mess. “No, I’m good.” It sounds fake even to your ears, tinny and wrought with anxiety.

“You sure?” He’s not really paying attention to you as he speaks, tracing the contours of the model across his canvas. He begins where you’d never think to, framing the main masses with a languid twist of his wrist. Unlike you, he doesn’t get caught up in the detail; he sees the bigger picture for all it is, building from the outside in.

You’re watching him for longer than you realise, whipping back around once it dawns on you. “Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“Who knows.” There’s a playfulness in his tone that sets you on edge. You’ve never heard it before, all rounded vowels and molasses laughter. You mean to work as you listen, waiting for some indication of whatever lies just beneath the surface.

It’s a mistake. Your stick of charcoal snaps in half when he continues, low and slow as if he’s dragging it out.

“—maybe you lost a sketchbook?”

“Did you say…” You can’t finish the sentence. You feel like you’re about to be sick.

The amount of mischief in his expression should be illegal. It’s dancing in his eyes, curling wide and unabashed over his lips. It’s practically radiating off of him.

“So, bad day?”

He waits for you to pack up, hands tucked into the endless pockets of his black slacks. At any other time, in any other universe, you’d be giddy. Girls on campus would kill for even a second of Taehyung’s attention.

(It’s true - you’d heard a group of them talking about it one time.)

Here and now, you want to sink six feet under.

“They’re really good, you know.” As if the compliment will dull the mortification that threatens to cleave you in half. “You’re really good at capturing his boredom. That’s not easy.”

“Thanks.” You should make conversation; it’s the polite thing to do.

After all, he was kind enough to find and return your sketchbook. Better him than someone else, right? Better him than Yoongi himself? That’s what you tell yourself, at least.

Yoongi doesn’t know and therefore, it’s okay. Semi okay. Distantly related to the idea of okay.

As if he can read your mind, Taehyung speaks gently, with a hand that burns through the linen of your blouse. You know he means well but it sears white hot, eviscerating your nerve endings. “You have nothing to worry about. I didn’t tell him.”

You don’t answer him. There’s nothing to say - not really. You’re far too lost in your own thoughts to acknowledge the effort he’s making. Maybe this was life’s way of telling you to back off - to find another person to paint.

Or maybe it’s brought you two together, says the silly, naive angel on your shoulder.

You’re ready to flick her off - launch her like some kind of poor Tinkerbell - when your name catches your attention. It’s announced so dramatically that you double take, making sure you haven’t completely run through a picnic or accidentally slammed into someone.

“This is Miru.”

Cognisance comes slow and unhurried, even as your stare swivels wildly in search of context clues.

Laid out before you, right under that familiar magnolia tree, is one blanket, three bodies, and enough takeout to last you an entire week.

“Ohf, phey!” With cheeks stuffed full, it’s hard to make out the two syllables. They crowd against each other, offered in a garbled mess that has you regarding Jungkook with a mixture of concern and confusion. He’s swallowing thickly before he rises far too quickly; you watch a forgotten piece of kimbap go flying, lost to the dirt and bugs. “Sorry. Hi.”

“Do you want to join us?” It’s the angelic one, fitted with cherubic cheeks and a rounded Cupid’s bow. “I’m Jimin, by the way.” He pats the empty space beside him, eyes waning into crescents with the force of his friendliness.

Taehyung had asked if you wanted to grab dinner but you’d never imagined he meant this.

You’ve never been subtle but you try your damnedest to peek at him from your periphery. Unfortunately for you, he’s already sat down, fully made himself comfortable beside the last member of the group.

The one who, for all intents and purposes, appears as if he’d rather be anywhere but here. If looks could kill, you think.

“Don’t worry about him,” Jimin says, so sweetly, with a small bento lid held towards you. It’s already stacked with goodies - a selection of banchan and homemade-looking meatballs sitting alongside a poorly-shaped mound of rice. “Sometimes, he gets like this.”

You want to believe it. Really, you do, but by the way Yoongi’s mouth curls in distaste, all signs point to it being a matter of you rather than a mood.

“Maybe if she respected peoples’ privacy, I wouldn’t have an issue.”

It’s a single sentence quietly spoken and yet it feels like an open-palm slap to the face. Heat radiates over every visible inch, starkly coloured in contrast to the white of your top. It burns as it licks over your cheeks and past your temples, tipping your ears.

“I’m so sorry.” It isn’t clear who you’re apologizing to, the words tumbling wet off your tongue like a waterfall.

You’re gone before anyone can ask.

“That was a dick move.” Jungkook is the first to break the silence, levelling his friend with a disapproving stare. He’s not used to this side of him - the one that can tear a person apart with just a few words. It’s not the Yoongi he knows. It’s not really Yoongi at all.

“Yeah, hyung.” It’s thinner, but just as reproachful. “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

Yoongi’s laugh is dismissive but he won’t meet anyone’s stare - a tell-tale sign that he’s just a little affected by their words - choosing instead to shovel bites of soondae into his mouth. “Mean what? Invading my privacy?”

“She’s an artist.” Taehyung doesn’t mean it as an excuse but by how Yoongi bristles, he’s certain the senior takes it as such. Before the argument can begin, he continues, all while wrapping a piece of samgyupsal in lettuce. “I doubt she meant any harm, so just cut her some slack.” Fringe is flicked away from his eyes, something sparkling in the pretty brown of his irises. “I’d actually be flattered, if I were you.”

“Then you be her model.”

You haven’t drawn in four days. Well, not really.

You’ve completed what you need for classes, filling your books with mandatory figures and notes on colour theory. You’ve diligently mapped out proportions and brought to life sunsets and sceneries. You’ve done everything you should be doing but nothing that you want to be.

It just doesn’t feel right. Not anymore.

“I hear he’s a really nice guy.” You can’t count how many times Jisoo has tried to cheer you up. From picking up your favourite ice cream (the one she tends to devour anyway) to ordering in fried chicken, she’s been the picture perfect roommate. It only makes you feel that much worse.

You were moping over something that was your fault. And she had to pick up the pieces! It seemed wildly unfair but when you’d told her to stop - insisted upon it with a wail into your pillow - she’d simply shook her head and wrapped you in her arms.

For all of your stupid, silly little rows, Kang Jisoo was the best roommate you’d had in your entire university career.

“Just go outside.” She’s perched on the edge of her bed, painting her toes a brilliant shade of neon green. She’d offered to do yours too, but you’ve more or less refused to leave the comfort of your burrito blanket for anything beyond classes or food. “You can’t avoid him forever.”

“I can try,” you mumble, words lost to the cotton of your sheets.

Try - and fail, it seemed. You’d already run into him twice. Twice! Even after you’d started taking absurdly long roundabout routes to your classes, the universe had conspired against you.

The first time he’d been walking out of the gym, shoulder to shoulder with another upperclassmen you didn’t recognize. You’d seen him coming from a mile away thanks to his obnoxiously bright Lakers jersey and you’d booked it back the way you’d come, nearly mowing down a couple making kissy faces at each other in front of the lecture hall.

The second time was yesterday afternoon. You’d thought he’d be in his usual spot - so close to your usual spot - that you’d gone to the coffee shop for a midday pick-me-up. Even embarrassed, you weren’t about to suffer a caffeine deficiency. You’d rounded the corner in the same instance he had and you’d sworn he’d seen you, recognition flickering across his face. Fortunately, there’d been a door directly to your right and you’d all but thrown yourself inside.

It was the first and hopefully last time you’d be in a men’s washroom.

“I thought you were tougher than this,” Jisoo hums, equal parts disapproval and kindness. She levels you with a stare - you can feel it burning into your fortress of blankets - and sighs. It’s a bit dramatic, you think.

“Tell me you wouldn’t be doing the exact same thing!”

Then again, she’d probably never be stupid enough to lose something so important nor would she fixate so heavily on one person. Your point still stands.

“Seriously, girl.”

Her nail polish bottle bounces off your bed, tumbling to the floor with a quiet thump. You look up in time to see her staring at you imploringly, so wide-eyed and innocent you can’t help but be a little suspicious. “What?”

“I wanted to have Andy over.”

It all falls into place then. Her boyfriend’s in a frat and your (poor) dorm room is the only place they have any sort of privacy. It makes you want to gag but you can’t blame her. You’ve always had an unspoken agreement; you’d just tossed it out the window the past few days.

Guilt prompts you to extract yourself from your duvet, though you don’t stop the chorus of gross, gross, gross! as you begin gathering your things. You almost leave your sketchbook, only opting to tuck it under your arm at the last minute.

“Please, please, don’t use my bed this time.”

“We love you!” She sing-songs as you tug your sneakers on and slip into the hallway.

You’re at a different bench across campus when you hear the voice. It comes from behind you and to your left, accusatory and sharp. You nearly jump out of your own skin, toppling over your water bottle and plastic paint palette. Orange watercolour soaks into the material on your thigh. Dammit.

“Are you following me?”

Min Yoongi stands not three feet from you, arms folded over his chest.

Your heart stutters at the sight of him. It’s hard to speak when it feels like it’s leapt into your throat.

“What?” You hate how you sound - a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You have nothing to be ashamed of. At least, not right now. You’d come all the way here, as far from the magnolia tree and red blanket as you could.

“I said—” His words are glacial and biting. It’s suddenly winter, far chillier than spring should be. You wish you’d brought a sweater or maybe, that the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t be cold when you’re dead. “—are you following me?”

“Of course not!”

There’s nothing but disbelief in his expression. It paints itself in broad strokes, prominent in the shadows beneath his eyes and the curl of his mouth. He says nothing.

“Really. I’m not.” You’re insistent, apologetic. Every nerve ending is shot, going haywire beneath your skin and lighting you up in shades of red. The tips of your fingers are tingling. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You wonder if he’s baiting you now.

“For…” Words are cherry-picked and perfect, chosen with a shaking head and the utmost care. “I shouldn’t have drawn you without asking.”

“No shit,” he returns, completely deadpan. He’s really not making this any easier.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” you continue, a little hopeful and a lot bashful. “I just— I don’t get inspiration like this that often. So I couldn’t let it go.” You don’t need to add what you do, but you do so anyway, because you’ve never been great at making good choices. “Your face is really unique and when you’re happy, it’s just so expressive and your smile is—”

There’s a siren blaring in your ears. A red alert going off so loudly you almost miss the way he laughs.

It’s not the same one he offers to his best friends - far more reserved, exceedingly softer - but it’s there and it’s real and you don’t think you’ll ever forget this moment.

“You’re laughing.”

He stops immediately. Fair.

“I’m sorry.” Again. More. Draped in apology and optimism that peeks out between your teeth and shines in the dark of your stare. “Even though I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I did, and for that I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

It’s hard to read him, even after you’ve spent hours studying his face. There’s a distinct difference between seeing someone and knowing them, you realize. You might be able to map out every wrinkle of his eyes - replicate every dot and freckle - but you have no idea what it all means or how it comes together to create something more.

Silence fits between the two of you for what feels like a long time. It’s not uncomfortable, though, so you allow it to settle. You figure it’s better than his anger, in any case.

“You could’ve just asked me.”

You can’t wipe the disbelief from your face. “Would you have said yes?”

Yoongi shrugs, a small roll of his shoulders beneath the oversized sweater that dwarfs his frame. “Don’t know, but I would’ve appreciated it.”

Because that’s really what it came down to - the thought, not the action. He’s not entirely sure you understand that yet but he’s willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Blame his softening on the steady repetitions Taehyung and Jungkook have made the past few days. You were lucky to have them in your corner - even if that meant they’d been a thorn in his side.

“Then… can I sketch you?” You’re probably (read: definitely) pushing it. You can’t help it.

He doesn’t know whether to laugh or scoff at your audacity. He decides on the former, with a shake of his head that swings his bangs across his forehead and a small, private smile. “Maybe next time.”

“Next time?” You imagine he can’t hear you as he’s backing away and disappearing the way he came.

“See you tomorrow.”

True to his word, Yoongi lets you draw him the next time you see him (and the next time and the time after that).

It’s different - working off someone who knows they’re being studied. He holds himself a little more stiffly, a little more carefully. His laughter isn’t quite as loud, his smiles more forced. He apologises, even though he doesn’t need to.

Even his untrained eye can see how you struggle to bring life to a robot.

Over time, though, it comes - comfort.

Like the quietly burning coals that melt him down from the inside out, he begins to warm up to you. It comes slowly but it comes nonetheless, as steady as the sun. You appreciate his effort - his patience - more than you can ever say.

You know he gets it, though. He always does. It’s a Yoongi thing.

“You can relax.”

It’s just the two of you, swathed in sweat and waning light that casts shadows across his cheeks. The days are longer than they’ve ever been and the both of you tend to lose track of time, spending hours under that magnolia tree.

“I am relaxed,” he returns, sinking further onto his back, elbows hardly acting to prop him up. He’d been engrossed in a novel for the first half of the afternoon. Another book you’d never bothered to read outside of high school English class. You never really understood it - you much preferred to watch than read - but you loved when he’d recite the words to you, clear and bright and better than any melody.

“You’re trying to stay awake.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No. You’re just as good of a model when you’re sleeping.”

The smile is lazy, hazy like Sunday morning. It reveals his gums and ticks higher on the left side. It makes your heart skip a beat.

“Go ahead then,” he continues. The entirety of his body sags, drops onto the bag he likes to use as a makeshift pillow. You don’t imagine it’s all that comfortable but he never complains.

“If you’re tired, we can just head in, you know.”

You always offer. He never says yes.

A part of you thinks he likes the attention. It’s different from what he receives from anyone else - thoughtful and careful. You think he might like the quiet, too. The benefit of quality time without any of the effort.

So you push on, charcoal edge meeting paper once more. “Just another twenty minutes.”

“Why me?”

The enquiry comes one day, completely out of the blue. It skips your heart and breaks the pastel in your fingers, dust chalking them a lovely shade of lilac.

“What?” You’re not ready for how close Yoongi is - much closer than he ever is - and you shift back, away from the face you’ve spent months filling your sketchbooks with. “Why you what?”

He’s completely nonchalant as he moves even closer.

You can smell his cologne - a distinctly masculine fragrance that’s musk and cedar - and the coffee he’s been nursing for the last hour. It fills your senses, recentring all of your focus so intensely that you don’t immediately recognise he’s continued speaking.

“Why’d you choose to draw me? Why not someone else?” He seems genuinely curious, even though it feels dangerous - a dangling string that’s meant to unravel you.

The answer doesn’t come easily, despite the fact it’s something you’ve asked yourself.

Why him? Why Min Yoongi?

“I don’t know,” you answer, perhaps too honestly. “I saw you and it sort of… just clicked.” How it sounds doesn’t escape you - like something plucked out of a bad romance novel. “I didn’t expect it to be you. I thought I’d draw you once - okay, twice - and then I’d move onto another subject. But I just… couldn’t?”

“So, what you’re telling me is it was love at first sight?” It’s glaringly obvious he’s teasing you. He’s got that grin of his, sly and feline as it creeps across his mouth.

You don’t bristle, instead painted bright red like the sunset that streaks across the sky.

“I— I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well, you didn’t say otherwise.”

It’s an uncomfortable line of questioning. You’re not used to it and certainly not from him. You hesitate to speak, turning words over and over on your tongue in an effort to make yourself clear.

You’re not weird. You don’t want this to be weird. But you can’t deny - it’s, decidedly, still very weird.

He tries again - a different tactic this time. One that surprises you, despite the unique friendship you’ve forged over the past few months. “What if I told you I was glad?”

“Glad?” It feels like an echo chamber. Repetition. As if you’re going in circles, chasing a tail that remains just out of reach. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What if I told you I’m happy we met?”

Your blink is owlish, fully caught off-guard. “I’d say the same thing. I’m happy we’re friends.”

Amusement rolls off him in waves, evidenced by the laugh that curls into the afternoon. He shimmies closer and closer until there’s barely three inches between you. His knee knocks against yours, bony and denim-clad. You try to ignore the way it burns through your own jeans, sparking heat all the way up to the tips of your ears and down into the soles of your feet.

“What if I told you I don’t want to be just friends anymore?”

It’s not a surprise, really. It’s something that’s been on your mind the past few weeks, sown by offhand comments and little gestures you haven’t been able to ignore. Jungkook had even practically shouted it at you just the other night.

“I’d say…” You trail off, lost somewhere among the constellations in his eyes.

“You’d say?” The words are parroted back at you, threaded together by gossamer thin hope.

“I’d say you’re welcome. For choosing you.” The confidence isn’t your own. It comes from him, crafted by the support he offers easily, hands out like keys. Keys to his heart, you realise belatedly, with a sudden bashfulness. Of course.

He can’t wipe the smile from his face. It eats up every inch, dominating even the playfulness that shines through, turning it the prettiest shade. It stands bright against his cheeks, staining the pale apples red. “That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say?”

You’re suddenly very determined - because you want to give this to him. Just as he’s given you everything you wanted, you want to do the same. In this little cut-out piece of paradise, there’s nothing quite as important.

The one word isn’t much but it feels like a turning point. “Yes.”

“You want me to say ‘yes’?”

He nods, just once. There’s so much certainty you can’t doubt him.

“Then yes—”

It doesn’t matter what you’ve just said yes to. It doesn’t even matter that it could be something awful or really, anything under the sun. All that matters is the feeling of his lips, soft and warm and dry on yours. It’s better than any painting you’ve ever seen, any song you’ve ever heard. It fills you wholly, stuttering your heart and bubbling giddiness in the pit of your stomach.

You probably sound a little silly, surprisingly breathless from such a little thing. “Wow.”

“Good things happen when you ask,” he states, solemnly. You’d take him more seriously if he weren’t so dopey, grinning at you like he never has before.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Luckily, you don’t mind. Not if it gets you another kiss.

You tell him as much and he happily obliges, stealing your breath and replacing it with sugar-coated stardust. You ponder whether you might be able to create with those same particles, turning them into colourful streaks to paint his cheeks. You’d like to find out.

You want a lot of things with Min Yoongi, you decide.

You don’t know how you ended up here.

Actually, that’s a lie. You do. All because of a dumb joke, uttered in passing by Taehyung and now ingrained so deeply in your psyche that you haven’t gone a single day without thinking about it.

“Get out of there,” he whispers right against your temple, lips following to soothe whatever’s got you preoccupied.

“Where?”

“Right there, idiot.” Fingers tap twice, a quick one-two against the side of your head.

You can’t help but grimace, a wrinkling of your nose that your boyfriend chuckles at, pressing kisses across the bridge and over your cheeks. “Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry - just come back to me.” To this moment, he means.

This strange little scene, with his fingers dressed in non-toxic paint and you stripped down to nothing but a flimsy cotton bra and thong.

Have him paint you like one of his French girls, Taehyung had said. It’ll be fun, he’d said.

You think it might be - if you weren’t bouncing with nerves, all five feet three inches of you fizzling with anticipation. Yoongi was only painting you. This was a bonding exercise. Something to bring you closer, to breach the gap between lovestruck artist and inspired musician. Nothing more.

“You’re beautiful, you know.” It’s not meant to be a reassurance but simply a passing comment, like looking at the sky or seeing it snow. So straightforward it makes you laugh, the sound bubbling about in your throat.

“Thanks, Yoongi.”

“No, seriously.” He levels you with a look. You know the one - a touch stern but ultimately playful. “I wanted to make something beautiful but…” Digits wiggle, Atlantic blue sweeping over the tips and up his knuckles like the sea. “I can’t really improve on something that’s already perfect.”

Your cheeks light on fire, as brilliantly coloured as the red in his - your - palette.

He thinks it looks pretty against his hands. The same ones that cradle your cheek, so precisely you want to remind him you’re a canvas and not clay.

“You’re silly.”

“ You’re silly,” he returns, as if that’ll somehow win him this battle of wits.

The roll of your eyes is undeniable. “Good one.”

“You know, I’ve got a ton of paint, right? Not your best choice, making fun of me.” He punctuates each word with passes of his fingers. Colour appears wherever he travels, dragged over your skin with dreamy twists of his wrist. A line here, a circle there. Goosebumps follow in their wake despite the fact that his touch is like candle wax - soothing and deliberate.

You wonder, idly, whether he can feel you burning up beneath him.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs again, almost to himself as he dips his fingers into another dot of paint. Pink this time - in the same shade as the magnolias outside. He spreads the colour over your chest, right where your heart beats an erratic rhythm.

He takes his time in admiring his handiwork, swirling the two shades together until it’s the most flattering shade of purple.

You try - and fail - to ignore the way it stirs something behind your ribs. A need that flickers to life without any sort of warning and has you pressing your thighs together.

“Can I take this off?” It comes abruptly, with eyes that snap up to yours. There’s already a hand tucked beneath the small of your back, right under your shoulders. He already knows your answer - can see it in the blown out pupils that reflect his entire world back at him. He still wants to hear it.

You’re unable to find your voice. It’s gone, stolen by the way he ghosts his fingers up and down the sensitive notches of your spine. You could get lost in this feeling, if he let you. You almost do, only nodding when he moves no further, flat of his palm a solid weight right against the clasp of your bra.

You don’t mind that the band is coloured pink and blue when he tosses it aside. You don’t have it in you to focus on anything but how he studies you now. Openly admires you, like you’re the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.

“What?” Mellifluous and adoring. Music to his ears.

“I think I’m getting distracted.”

“I think so, too.”

“Is that okay?” He speaks more to your boobs than you, single stained hand coming to rest across your ribs. The pad of his thumb swipes over a single bud, perked and already far too sensitive. He’d put his mouth on it, if not for the fact it’s now covered in paint.

Fortunately, there’s still so much of you - places he hasn’t explored but suddenly, desperately needs to.

From the column of your throat and all the way down to the valley of your breasts, he offers sweet kisses. Open-mouthed adoration that leaves you needy and breathless and writing. He catches your untouched nipple between his teeth, gently working it into the same state as its tinted twin.

You shift beneath him, unable to stop the bolt of electricity that rips through you like a thousand volts. It cracks your composure like lightning and sends your pulse racing like thunder. “Of course.”

He hums, content, and nearly falls, dropping his cheek fully against your chest. You’re so soft beneath him, velvet and pliant under his tongue.

“I think I love you.” It’s his voice but your words, spoken so faintly you almost miss it against the roaring in your ears.

“I think I love you, too.”

Yoongi stares up at you then, so full of wonder that you can’t help but look away. It’s an incredibly intimate moment - so much emotion carried in one simple look that you’re not quite sure how to process it. He’d been your inspiration and now you were his. The realisation is almost too much, filling you until you feel like you might float away.

His hands act as an anchor, keeping you here with him.

“You don’t have to say it back.” It’s careful, loaded with his heart and every key to open it.

“I know - I want to.”

He grins so breathlessly handsome that you can’t help but return it, rubied cheeks crystallised with delight. Those same paint-stained hands of his find their newly discovered favourite home of your chest and he sounds like sin when he speaks. “I want you.”

“You can have me.”

It’s all he needs before he’s ducking down and smothering every uncovered inch of you in sweetness. His mouth burns hot but he’s unbearably gentle, searing the shape of his mouth over your breasts and across your collarbone. He licks and sucks as he goes, soothing any ache left behind by the edge of his teeth.

You’re not quite sure where the bites end and the paint begins. It’s all so pretty you don’t mind either way.

But it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough, you think, even as you whine airily, words stuttering out in a half-formed breath. “Please touch me.”

“Where?” He’s hardly given you room to answer, crowded so closely against you that you can feel his heartbeat all the way through to your own. He’s so warm - so solid - upon you that you almost want to tell him that here, just as he is, is perfect.

A momentary lapse in lust before rational judgment is clouded yet again.

Instead - and with more demand than you mean - you grind purposefully against him. A benefit to having him sitting how he is, knees hooked on either side of your hips. He can’t pretend like he doesn’t feel it, cock twitching beneath the constraints of his boxer-briefs.

Your eyes meet and he chuckles, nuzzling his head back into that spot between your neck and shoulder that has you whimpering. The sound alone drives him crazy.

“You’ll be the death of me.” Yoongi knows this like he knows the sky is blue or your smile is his favourite sight.

You’re teasing him when you catch his face, palms cradling the shape of his jaw. “Then it’ll be a good death.”

He doesn’t disagree - especially when he slips his clean hand along the length of your body. He tweaks your nipple on its descent, tickles the underside of your ribs, and then finds the band of your underwear, all in one fell swoop. A digit dips below the elastic, neatly clipped nail grazing the jut of your hip before shifting and dropping further.

You keen when the pad of his finger grazes your clit.

“Do that again.” He doesn’t need to tell you twice. When he repeats the motion, the sound spills off your tongue without restraint.

He slips further down, pressing his hand to gently part your folds. Digits glide easily, coated in slick that drips between your legs and sorely tests his patience. Yoongi’s not sure what he’d expected but this is so much better it’s making his head spin - and he hasn’t even felt you yet.

“You’re so wet, love.” Shame would swallow you whole if not for the way he speaks with reverence. “How badly do you want this?”

“Don’t tease,” you huff, rutting uselessly against the fingers that tease your centre, barely slipping in before resuming a lazy, leisurely path back up to the bundle of nerves that throbs at the contact. He’s hardly touched you and you’re already at a six, entire body alight with need that thrums heavy in your veins.

“Just tell me.”

“I want this. I need this.” You hope he believes you. You’re not sure what you’ll do if he doesn’t. “I need to feel you - please.”

His entire world is spinning, kicked on its axis by the way your tone pitches, demands and begs in the same lilting voice he so adores but has never quite heard like this. He loves it. “I need to stretch you out. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You whine so prettily he almost cracks. It’s enough to have him choking on his own words, not that he’s saying anything. He’s too focused on how he sinks into you - a single digit but so tightly it feels like there’s no way he’ll survive his cock buried inside.

You’re a dream come true. He never wants to wake up.

“More. Please.” You’re so polite, he almost laughs. You’d really taken his words to heart - always asking for what you wanted now. He can’t deny how proud he is. It blossoms in his chest, juxtaposed greatly against the salaciousness that drives him to do exactly as you ask.

His index finger slips in alongside the other. You make that noise he loves, grinding your core against the flat of his palm as he curls his knuckles and seeks out that spot. He knows he’s struck gold when he taps it experimentally, pressure turning light but unrelenting when a choked cry ricochets off your tongue and onto his sweat-slicked shoulder.

“Right there?”

Your nod is enough of an answer.

He redoubles his efforts, fucking you with measured glides of his fingers and precise presses against your g-spot. In no time at all, you’re barely coherent, mumbling his name in a slew of breaths that has him grinning. You’re a sight to behold, moaning so obscenely you’d be ashamed you weren’t so preoccupied by the fact that every part of you feels as if it’s about to splinter.

“Miru— Princess—” Your clit aches and you nearly shriek when he applies pressure against it with the pad of his thumb, swiping your cum over it in slow circles. He wants you so badly - just as bad as you want him- but he’s torn halfway between watching you unravel by his hand and wanting that same euphoria when he’s buried home in your dripping pussy.

“Please, please, please.” There are tears in your eyes. You’re so close you can practically taste it, entire body shaking with the effort of keeping the coil from snapping. “Yoongi, please.”

He’s a fucking goner then, filling you with a third finger and grinding his palm against your clit as you come apart beneath him.

It starts in your toes, stealing feeling all the way up your calves and over your thighs. You’re only aware you’re trembling because it vibrates through Yoongi’s body, looped back to yours when he mouths across your shoulders, sucking memories into your heated, sweat-sweet skin. The stimulation is what keeps you from floating off on a cloud of bliss, the warmth in the pit of your stomach liquifying your bones.

“Are you tired?” Because you certainly look tired - too fucked out to properly meet his stare as he looms over you, both hands adjusted to rest comfortably over your hips.

You are, but it doesn't matter. You haven’t gotten what you wanted - not really - and you aren’t about to let it go without asking.

He’d taught you that.

You smile up at him, doe-eyed and alluring. A hand reaches for his, curls around the fingers still glossy with your slick, and squeezes. “I still need you.”

They’re words he’ll never tire of - also words that have him kicking out of his briefs and rolling your thong down your legs, all too eager. He’s painfully hard, leaking pre-cum and purple at the tip, but he fists himself in slow, measured pumps regardless. It’s a show for you, more than anything.

“ Please.” So pretty, so ready. He can’t resist.

Yoongi sinks against you, the head of his cock brushing through your folds as he slots himself into place with his paint-free hand. The other, still coloured garishly bright, brushes the curve of your lip, the delicate skin beneath your eye. It’s so tender you can’t help but blink, caught off-guard.

“I love you,” you say, though you’re sure he’s meant to, too. You can read it in his eyes - brilliant and bright like a beacon in the night.

He speaks with a roguish grin and a fluid press of his hips. “I know.”

You fit like two puzzle pieces, the stretch perfect as he sinks deeper, a low groan sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. You’re so tight around him but he glides in easily, coaxed to fill you by your wetness and the soft, whiny noises you make.

“Holy shit,” he manages once he’s buried as deep as he can go, head spinning with the way you clench around him, nearly stealing the words off his tongue. “Am I dreaming?”

Laughter is a salve - a catch-all remedy for anything that ails him. It pulls him to the here and now, drawing his attention from the overwhelming bliss that creeps up his spine and recentring it on you, beautiful and bashful beneath him.

“No, you’re not.” It’s a caricature of your voice but he doesn’t mind. He loves that he can bring you to this.

“Thank God.”

Except it’s not God you’re thanking when Yoongi begins to move against you, dragging his cock through your walls with such slow, measured strokes you think you might combust. It’s his name when he pulls almost fully out of you, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock, before snapping forward to bury himself to the hilt. It’s his name that rolls off your tongue like a mantra, hoping and praying and begging for more as he consumes you wholly, in no half measures.

It’s him - Min Yoongi, your muse, your love - that has you crying out, pleasure coursing through your veins as he adjusts and fills you at a completely new angle, brushing against your g-spot with every thrust of his hips.

“Yoongi - please.” You’re chanting the two words again, turning them into a song he’ll never get out of his head, when you spasm around him. His eyes nearly roll back into his head, the sensation turning his rhythm sloppy as he chases the same high. The hand that had previously been propping him up falls, thumb seeking out your clit as he charges toward the precipice.

“One more, love. Once more for me, okay? I want you to come with me.”

He asks so nicely you can’t deny him - even as the overstimulation takes over. You’re shaking so badly you’re not sure how he keeps you in place; it’s a tremor that won’t stop, traipsing over every limb until you’re sobbing.

“I love you,” he chokes out as he tumbles over the edge, falling headlong into climax with you in tow. It’s so strong it feels like it blinds you, spotting your vision with white as he fills you with his cum and continues to fuck you through it, milking every last moment just like you were his slowly softening cock.

You don’t have it in you to answer, far too exhausted by the last orgasm that has your limbs turned to jelly. Yoongi doesn’t mind though; he likes the just-fucked afterglow and how you sink into his arms when he slips out of you and onto his side.

He eyes the cum that spills onto your thighs, pearlescent and going to waste. He has half a mind to push it back where it belongs.

He only doesn’t because of the words you speak next, hardly above a whisper but loud enough that he groans, burying his face into your hair. “So, thanks, Taehyung?”

“Can you not?” It’s a playful response, with teeth bared against the sweat-slicked nape of your neck.

“Sorry.” A beat. He wonders if you’ve fallen asleep suddenly. “I meant thanks, Titanic.”

author note. this was a drabble prompt i got from the lovely @hecticwonderer and i kind of just... ran with it. oops.

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lifeofkaze · 3 years ago

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When Stars Ignite - Chapter 12

HPHM Rockstar AU

A/N: Surprise, a new chapter already! This one and the Chapter 11 were actually supposed to be one single chapter but we decided to cut it due to my inability to keep things short length. Hence, the same title with an addition and the consecutive days - just so you don't wonder. Also, in case anyone was confused by the timeframe reading Chapter 11, this supposed to be a flashback to when the whole thing between them started - sorry for not making this clear in the first place 💛

General Warning: This whole fic has a general warning of being NSFW / 18+. We will give specific warnings for every chapter in itself, but several adult themes will be more or less present in every chapter, may it be explicitly or in mention. These include sexual topics, drug abuse, (ab)use of alcohol, smoking and a whole lot of cursing.

Specific Warning: Langague, mention of alcohol and drug abuse, mention of NSFW content

~~~

Find the masterpost here, the previous chapter here and the next one here. The songs featured before every chapter can be found on this pretty badass playlist here.

~~~

This work is a collaboration with @the-al-chemist

Taglist: @slytherindisaster @night-rhea @carewyncromwell

It's just the way that you walk

It's just the way that you talk

Like it ain't no thing

And every single day is just a fling

Then the morning comes

~ Smash Mouth - Then The Morning Comes ~

Lizzie woke the next morning to a painful pounding inside her head and a mouth as dry as dust. It took her a few moments to find her bearings; the light of the morning sun didn’t fall onto her bed like it did now, and neither did her sheets smell like Orion’s aftershave.

With that thought the memories of last night hit her like a freight train. Covering her eyes with her hand, she let her head slump back onto the pillow, a breathy chuckle leaving her parched throat. She certainly hadn’t expected that to happen when she had agreed to go to her first poetry slam with Orion. Saying she regretted sleeping with him would have been a blatant lie, though; it had been far too good for that.

Sitting up slowly, Lizzie stretched her back, rolling her neck from side to side; her head hurt like hell but it wasn’t as bad as she had anticipated. Orion seemed to be up already, which didn’t surprise her; Lizzie knew he was an early riser from the many years they had spent touring together.

Her eyes fell onto the nightstand and the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile. A full bottle of water and a blister pack of painkillers were waiting for her there. Not sure what she was more grateful for, the meds or the water, Lizzie took a large gulp out of the bottle first before washing down one of the pills with a second, smaller sip; her mouth was so dry, she wasn’t even sure any of the water was reaching her stomach at all.

She sat between the sheets for a little longer, her back leaned against the rough brick wall. Taking small sips out of her bottle every now and again she contemplated last night’s events.

In a thousand years she wouldn’t have anticipated ending up in bed with Orion when all they’d had planned had been a night out together. And it wasn’t like she could blame it all on getting drunk and high out of her mind either; Lizzie was honest enough with herself to admit she’d always found him more than a little attractive, but so far, it had stopped for her at that.

The dreamcatcher hanging from the window frame directly above the bed was painting intricate shadows on the sheets. Lost in her thoughts, Lizzie watched them, trying to discern if she felt any different after spending the night with one of her best friends.

If she was completely honest with herself, the answer was no. Neither she nor her feelings towards Orion seemed to have changed in any way.

She shrugged the thought off and swung her legs out of the bed, standing up slowly in case her circulation was still funky. She grabbed her shorts from the ground where she had unceremoniously tossed them last night. Exchanging the shirt Orion had given her with her own top, she pulled a new hair tie from her pocket and pulled her tangled hair out of her face.

With the warm shirt and her hair gone from her bare shoulders, Lizzie noticed how cool the morning air felt against her skin. She grabbed the black hoodie she had borrowed yesterday from another place on the floor and put it on again. Following the soft sound of Orion’s guitar that was drifting down from the rooftop terrace, she climbed up the steps and through the open skylight.

Orion was sitting on the deckchair with his acoustic guitar in his hands, playing a melody Lizzie didn’t recognise. One of his countless notebooks was lying in front of him and she could spot a pencil being stuck behind his ear. Lizzie waited until he stopped playing to write something down before she walked over to him.

He looked up from his notes as she sat down on the end of the deckchair. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Lizzie smiled. She tilted her head, trying to catch a glimpse of what Orion was composing. “What was that you were playing?”

“Something new,” he smirked. He closed the notebook and carefully put his guitar away. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” Lizzie chuckled, “No wonder though…” She indicated the water bottle she was still holding, “Thanks for that, I didn’t even realise how thirsty I was.”

“That’s what smoking does to you,” Orion shrugged. “I got us some fruit from the market down the road for breakfast, if you want some.”

Lizzie had already spotted the huge plate laden with an assortment of colourful fruit on the table behind him. It was only now that she realised just how hungry she was. “How do you know that’s what I like for breakfast?”

He looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “We’ve been touring together for five years now, remember?”

Lizzie felt her cheeks go red. “Obviously. I can’t think before coffee.”

“I made you some, but no idea if it’s good,” Orion shrugged. “You know I don’t drink coffee myself.”

Lizzie made her way over to the table and poured herself a cup. “Then why do you have coffee in the first place?”

“Merula likes some when she’s here.”

She took her first sip after adding sugar and milk but even then the bitter taste was so overwhelmingly strong that Lizzie couldn’t help but grimace.

Orion watched her with a sympathetic expression. “Too strong?”

“A little,” Lizzie croaked, trying to wash the taste away with another sip of water.

“Sorry, that’s how Merula likes it.”

“No wonder she never laughs if her days start like this,” Lizzie replied sardonically.

Orion had to chuckle at her words. “Our tastes can mirror our personalities, that’s true; I wouldn’t tell her that, though.”

He raised his own mug that had been resting on the floor beside him. “If you don’t like the coffee, I can only offer you tea, I’m afraid.”

Gingerly pushing her coffee cup as far away from her as possible, Lizzie nodded gratefully. “I’d be fine with that.”

Lizzie was surprised at how relaxed and comfortable the atmosphere between them was; it was like having breakfast with her best friend, just like it always had.

None of them spoke about what had happened last night, nor did they feel the need to. Now, in the light of a new day, the fact that they had slept with each other seemed almost surreal. Lizzie was relieved to see that, just like her, Orion didn’t seem to have any issues with it whatsoever.

She had just picked out another cherry from the fruit platter when her phone started ringing, the familiar picture of Skye flashing across the screen. She motioned for Orion to be silent before accepting the call.

“What’s up, Skye?” she greeted her breezily.

Skye didn’t seem to share her good mood, however. “Where the fuck are you?”

“What?”

“We were meant to go running today? I’ve been waiting for a solid twenty minutes now.”

Lizzie mouthed a silent curse; she had completely forgotten about that. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry! I slept in, it got a little later yesterday than I expected.” She tried not to grin as her eyes flicked over to Orion.

“Oh yeah, how was the slam?”

Lizzie almost choked on her tea as she tried not to snort with laughter. “You want to know how the slam was?” she repeated Skye’s words, watching Orion cover his mouth with his hand as he, too, was trying very hard not to laugh.

“It was very good, thank you for asking. I got some whole new perspectives out of it.”

“Maybe I should come next time.”

“Oh, believe me,” Lizzie grinned, “it wouldn’t have been your thing at all.”

“Hm, if you say so. How about Orion? Haven’t seen him quite so excited about something in a long time.”

“Well, I think he had quite a good night,” she smirked, throwing her cherry at Orion as he was shaking with silent laughter.

“Anyway,” Skye sighed through the speaker, “what’s the deal now? Could be at your place in ten minutes.”

Lizzie racked her brain, trying to come up with a suitable excuse. “Uhm no, I’m actually not home right now.” Her gaze fell onto her cup of green tea. “I ran straight out of coffee this morning and I’m on the hunt for some.”

Luckily, Skye seemed to buy it. “Fine, want to meet for lunch later?”

“Make it dinner and I’m in,” Lizzie answered, “Say hi to Erika for me,” she couldn’t help but add with a wicked grin.

She could practically see Skye blushing, even through her phone. “What makes you think I’m with -”

But Lizzie had already hung up on her.

The laughter was still dancing in Orion’s eyes when he shook his head. “You’re truly evil, do you know that?”

Lizzie chuckled. “That’s not what you said last night.”

“Fair enough,” Orion conceded. “But I’m curious, why did you lie to her?”

“First of all, I didn’t lie; I just didn’t tell her all the details. It’s none of her business anyway.” The smile vanished from her face and Lizzie averted her eyes. “And besides, I don’t want her to get into a conflict because she’s hiding something from her father.”

She took a deep breath, the mood suddenly not at all relaxed anymore. “And about that…”

But Orion had already guessed what she wanted to say. “You want to keep this a secret.” It wasn’t a question but an observation.

“If that’s cool with you.”

To her relief, Orion nodded. “It suits me well. I agree with you, it’s no one’s business but our own. And a secret shared between friends can only serve to deepen the friendship.”

Lizzie nodded in agreement, glad to see they were on the same page about this. She finished her tea, popped another cherry into her mouth and got up to leave.

“Is it okay if I borrow that for today?” she asked, motioning at the sweater she was still wearing. It wasn’t cold by any means, but the sweater was cosy and soft, just what she needed on a hungover day like this. It smelled like something resembling ginger, a scent she found very pleasant.

Orion followed her inside and showed her to the door. Just as she was about to leave, he caught her wrist and held her back.

“Any chance for another kiss?”

Lizzie hesitated, looking at him apologetically. “Sorry, I don’t usually do that.” Her lips twisted into a sly smile as she added, “And you got way more than a kiss anyway.”

She turned to go, but changed her mind on a whim; standing on her tiptoes, Lizzie pressed a quick kiss onto his cheek.

“Maybe next time.”

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #harry potter hogwarts mystery #rockstar au #orion amari #lizzie jameson #when stars ignite #wsi #besties collaborate

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bruh-haikyuu · 4 years ago

Text

A/N: Timeskip Lev make me go BARK BARK BARK WOOF WOOF AAARF ARF. P.S: For double the experience, read while listening to this

diapason. | haiba lev

summary: in which lev meets you again and you develop some sort of warm reconnection with your past underclassman. (Continuation of this fic)

word count: 4402

warnings: manga spoilers!!

(n.) a full, rich outpouring of melodious sound

Vienna, Austria. January 2022.

The Danube Canal in mid-winter reminds you of a lot of things:

The Shakujii River flanked with its timeless parade of cherry blossom trees. Christmas celebrations spent at home with your family, popping bottles of soda and whining about misshapen gifts. Your piano recitals played in utter devotion, like the winter would never end.

You’re a long, long way away from home, and you start to hope if anyone is missing you. If there’s a hole in your figure carved into someone’s heart back in Japan or some place in the other side of the world—

What am I thinking... you sigh, bashfully urging yourself to keep on walking.

Nestling deeper into the warmth of your wool scarf, you wonder if it’s the cold ambience of the night that’s making you feel all sappy. Twinkling lights, murmured chatter from late-night cafés, the occasional gust of wind against your cheeks. You never thought you’d get so nostalgic on your “vacation”, but perhaps you’re just like any other hopeless romantic.

“Come to Vienna! A whirlwind of budding love!”

You’d read that advertisement in one of the catalogues your symphony’s personnel manager had excitedly dumped into your lap the day she announced your personal invitation to spectate the Vienna Philharmonic live a few weeks ago. You didn’t think much of the slogan, but even so... you have to admit you’re a tad bit lonely, aren’t you?

You can barely remember a moment where you didn’t feel lonely. You had your family at home, but you’d considered it your fault for being such a shut-in for the most part of your life. The neighborhood kids weren’t exactly the nicest people. And school life hadn’t been much of an improvement either.

Of course, until him.

A colossal first year stumbling into the desolate Orchestra Club room, with a mouth just as big as his stature. Haiba Lev who had been anxiously lost that day you’d met. With such little sense of direction, you can’t help but laugh at how much times he’d managed to find you in that maze of your high school.

He’d find you, talk to you, laugh with you. And you’d never felt all the rushing feelings you’d felt when you were with this dewy-eyed boy. He was the perfect image of confidence—radiant, ambitious and all the more charming.

If only you can thank him. Your hero of sorts. Haiba Lev who poured into you all the faith he had so you could move forward—

“A-ah, excuse me?”

Whipping your head into the direction of the choppy English, a seething blush rises onto your cheeks when you zero in to the large camera lens pointed right at you.

The bearded man speaks again. “Eh... you’re Japanese, aren’t you? Sorry, but we’re having a photoshoot right now, and you’re in the way of our model. Could you maybe...”

Oh dear, you frazzle. Prostrating yourself incessantly at the camera crew, you blunder. “I’m v-very sorry! Waah, I must’ve ruined your picture!”

“It’s fine,” the man smiles kindly. “Things like this often happen anyway. Ain’t that right, Hafu-sama?”

The lean figure behind you laughs, and for a second, you feel your chest flutter in your throat when you hear him. “Yep! Don’t worry about it, Miss—”

You really wish you hadn’t turned around because the moment your eyes locked with a pair of emeralds, you swear that your heart leapt out of your chest. All feeling of chilliness lamented, you feel red heat stretching out across your skin.

“H-Haiba-kun?!”

Unable to keep your footing steady, a stagnant lump rises in your throat when the familiar man grins at you with galaxies in his eyes.

“Fairy-senpai!!”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tokyo, Japan. October 2012.

“Senpai!”

Footsteps echoing down the corridor, a wave of frightened third years part to let the gigantic creature of a first year through. Haiba Lev, age 16, is excited. Haiba Lev, 194.3 centimeters tall, is burning with so much resolve that he pays no heed to the Discipline Committee member who is resentfully yelling at him to “stop running in the hallways, you hoodlum!”

But who could blame him?

When you turn around and jolt in surprise, Lev drowns in the tiny fairies that flutter in his chest.

“Haiba-kun? What are you doing here?” you take a moment to register his full presence—considering his substantial size, Lev would probably understand your current disposition.

Finally, you whisper in a low tone, highly aware of the crowd that’s pivoting towards your conversation. “... Did you get lost again?”

“Of course not!” Lev replies rather gruffly. “I wanted to look for you to give you this so I can thank you for when I got lost.”

Thrusting a daintily wrapped bento towards you, the tall boy is rather unabashed about the entire situation—lace cloth and all. There’s a fragrant steam seeping out from the gaps of the box, spooling and wafting (and you think your ears pick up the noise of someone’s rumbling stomach).

You’d thought of spending your lunch alone in your club room, or maybe even the rooftop if you were up for it... like the usual. But the moment Lev starts talking again, you completely forget the idea as a whole.

Innocently grinning, he asks, “Do you want to eat lunch together, L/N-senpai?”

How could you say no?

And thus, here you are in the courtyard with a titan first-year who is nearly twice your size, jovially chattering about as you quietly eat your lunch.

When was the last time you ate something so cute? Your parents stopped making you character bentos since you got into middle school (“Aah... sorry, Y/N. Dad’s hands aren’t as artistic as they used to be,” your father had told you that day, an utter look of guilt dancing across his face). You weren’t too confident in your own skills either, so bentos with endearing faces and shaped cut-outs of vegetables were simply a fragmented piece of the past.

First-years today are so talented, you think, shoveling down your meal in sheer politeness. “This is delicious, Haiba-kun! The chicken is so tender and the rice is so well-seasoned! I wish I had your sense for cooking...”

“My sister made it, actually. I tried to help her cut the eggs, but it ended up being a mess and she told me to just sit and wait in the dining room,” he replies sheepishly, a bubble of laughter slipping from between his lips. “I’m glad you like it though, Senpai! Just wait ‘til my sister hears about your reaction!”

“Does your sister always make your lunches for you?” you ask, curiosity subduing your reserve.

Lev takes a moment to swallow the lump of rice in his mouth.

“Mm, sometimes. If she’s not having a lecture in the morning, she’ll make breakfast. Otherwise, the teriyaki set at the cafeteria is just as good!”

Cafeteria. You shiver. That hellhole of shoving and scrambling and incessant talking... You’re thankful the school had decided to set up a few more vending machines close to campus when you entered your second year.

And then you think of Lev. With that extreme height and intimidating presence, he wouldn’t have to put his foot on the line every time he wanted melon bread, right? And he is definitely the type of person to be able to talk to the loud cafeteria lady without dropping his change.

Confidence. Recklessness. Bliss. All the prime features you wanted, right in front of you—and yet...

“Hey, L/N-senpai?” you snap awake from your thoughts. A dash of concern flashes over your underclassman’s features before he repeats his muted question. “Can I have one of your sausages?”

Peering down at the cluster of uneaten octopus sausages, you quickly nod, face reddening once you realize how close Lev is breathing near you. “G-Go ahead.”

Chirping out a “thank you for the food!”, the silver-haired boy swoops down on a miniature octopus, a sound of immense satisfaction humming in his chest. He’s like a child, you laugh to yourself. A young boy with no sense of care of the world, no concern of what’s going to happen to him unless he really does it.

Leaning back on the bench, you sigh, a smile dawning on your face. “You didn’t have to force yourself to eat lunch with me, you know. I usually eat by myself anyway.”

You’re being apologetic again. You want to punch yourself for even thinking of it. But your habit precedes your intentions, and you can already feel the mood turn sour—

“Why not though?”

Looking up at him incredulously, you can barely string together a coherent response before Lev pipes up again.

“Isn’t food always best when eaten together?”

How pretentious.

There are already valleys of flowers blooming in your stomach at his innocent reply. The same kind that sprouted the day he’d burst into your private practice room. You really hoped you wouldn’t get ahead of yourself anymore. Not with the risks that it carried. But this guileless first year was a much more difficult case than you’d imagined, and thus the flowers go into full blossom.

You smile, the faint blush on Lev’s cheeks going unnoticed. “Yeah. We should eat together more often.”

And so you did. Tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. The passage of time a trivial shadow beneath your budding happiness.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Vienna, Austria. January 2022.

“You work in a symphony?! Senpai’s job is super cool!”

Under the amber light of the cafe’s chandelier, you can’t help but feel a certain déjà vu at your current situation. Perhaps it’s the fact that you’re having tea with your high school underclassman, or maybe it’s simply the residue of your more recent wistful thinking.

Yet again, it still hasn’t registered into your mind how you’d miraculously manifested Lev into proximity just from your sheer yearning... You kind of feel selfish.

“It’s just a freelance job though, it’s probably not as impressive as being a model,” you say.

Lev crosses his arms huffily, and you worry if you’ve started to offend him. Until he opens his mouth again. “Modelling is suuuper embarassing. Sometimes, I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that ‘that’s my face!’ or ‘I made that pose with that other model’. The agency’s really harsh on the way I dress too—I mean, what’s wrong with wearing a shirt that says ‘HERBIVORE’ to go to Lawson’s?”

You stifle a giggle as he rambles on about “the time I had to cross-dress as a woman because the female model quit on the day of the shoot”. For someone who had grown up to be a lean, rather attractive figure, you can’t shake your head away from the thought that the 16-year old Haiba Lev is still stuck inside the body of a corporate slave. There’s a sense of relief that accompanies the feeling, and memories of your high school days slowly come into picture—

“One black tea and a latte for the lovely couple?” a kind-looking waiter gently sidles in between you, cutting Lev off from his rant, and you from your reflection.

Turning a vivid shade of crimson, you stutter, “O-oh... we are not—”

“Thank you,” Lev grins dashingly, enough to make your heart race and a few passers-by to stop in their tracks.

Once the waiter retreats back into the pantry, the man across you slowly leans forward to whisper endearingly. “My sister wants me to practice my English while I’m abroad. You think I got my message across, Senpai?”

“You did well, Haiba-kun.” There are a lot of things you want to ask him really. If he really knew the meaning behind the waiter’s sentence. Or if he realized he’d nearly pronounced ‘you’ with an extra ‘th’.

... Or why he’s pouring in a mound of sugar into your cup of tea.

“H-Haiba-kun, that order’s mine...”

“Hm? Yeah, I know,” he mutters, the soft clinking of the spoon against glass echoing in your head. “You like your stuff really sweet, right? Man, I used to be really worried the first few times we had tea together.”

That’s right, you gulp. The endless hours you’d spent together in the Orchestra Club room... he really did learn a lot of things about you that time, didn’t he? Although you had merely been friends, Lev had grown on you, as if he’d always been there from the start. And you wonder: what else does he remember about you?

“Ah, by the way,” Lev starts. “Are you still thinking about setting up that music store you wanted?”

“Of course,” you mumble. It was only a naïve dream was what you meant to say, but in the presence of such a captivating man, all the gears in your head seemed to... dislocate.

Lev smiles a simple smile. Boyish at best, but still enough to enrapture you into his lingering gaze.

“I’m glad.... I’m glad you haven’t given up. You know, the old L/N-senpai would’ve called it quits because you thought you weren’t good enough. But look at you now! Soon enough, you’ll be off to teach music to the world.”

Your heart is already doubling in size at his words. Any more and you’d probably explode... You’d lost it. You’ve lost all the capability to keep your heart in control, and now you are smiling like a maniac in front of the last person you wanted to see in this state.

But he only laughs. Youthful and full of color. Unchanging from all those years ago.

“Wahahaha! You finally smiled! We should celebrate, you know. Just a small holiday from all that hard work. Say... are you still going to be in Vienna in the weekend?”

“I’m free on those days. But what’s all this about?”

Hiding his bashful smirk behind his cup of coffee, Lev murmurs. “We have some catching up to do, don’t we—Uwaah! Hot!”

Unchanging indeed, you shake your head, calling over the waiter for an extra set of napkins.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tokyo, Japan. February 2013.

There is a tea party set stashed between the two cardboard boxes filled with sheet music and spare melodicas. They’ve been left behind by your graduated seniors, who insisted that tea, “as the prime component to a good host”, was to be kept in the club room at all times, case there were any visiting guests.

...Of course, such things never happened. And you always ended up drinking the tea by yourselves. But even with the departure of your beloved seniors, you can never shake off the habit of drinking and restocking the supplies whenever required.

So you wonder if you should really be thanking your tea-loving upperclassmen for the free beverages.

“That’s a lot of sugar!” Lev gasps in awe, the emeralds in his eyes twisting and shining with the cascade of crystals falling into your cup of tea. “I bet you have a lot of cavities in your mouth, Senpai.”

“I brush my teeth very well so I don’t think anything like that’s every happened to me,” you say, irritably trying to ignore the tactless comment from your starry-eyed underclassman. “It’s been a while since you’ve been in my club room, hasn’t it? I’m glad you didn’t get lost trying to get here.”

He grumbles, crossing his arms in faux-anger. “Geez! I won’t get lost like that so easily! Besides...”

Lev takes a moment to drink in the warmth of the club room’s solace. The grand piano in the corner. The orange light streaming through the open curtains. Your curious face, like something out of a fairytale book.

“This place is full of good memories, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ll ever forget something like that.”

You chuckle at his monologue. “You sound like my grandfather, Haiba-kun.”

Lev’s face warps into something reminiscent of a prune.

“Senpai, we’re only two years apart!” he fumes. “You didn’t invite me here just to crush my self-esteem, right?! C-Come on, aren’t you going to show me the audition piece you wanted me to hear?”

There is a burning urge inside of you that’s telling you to “pull at his leg just a little more...”, but nevertheless, the artist within you says to keep your audience at bay. And so, the curtains open and your fingers dance on familiar keys.

You’ve played for him before. Songs like ‘Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy’ or ‘Ma Mère L’oye’. Songs that you love, much like the one you’re performing for him right now. But you’re shaking in your seat. Wondering, anticipating, fearing.

He’s staring so much, you bite your lip, trying to avert your focus from Lev’s unbreakable gaze.

A single spectator wracks your brain even more than a theatre full of different kinds people—enthusiasts, university scouts, onlookers. But in your dismal, little club room, there is only your underclassman. Someone who knows nothing of music, but lacks so much knowledge that you know any of his critique would come from honesty alone.

...Why do you care so much about one person’s opinion?

You don’t realize how long you’ve been pondering until your train of thought is abruptly thwarted by the end of your song. You finish on a satisfying note and your endearing onlooker suddenly springs on his feet to shower you in applause.

“What the heck—that was so cool! I’ve never seen anyone play like that before!” Lev stumbles, everything and anything he’d planned to say pouring out as a blubbering mess as your face grows hotter from the attention. “Senpai, you’ll definitely pass the audition if you play just like that.”

“Y-You really think so?” he’s probably just being nice, you think. But for a spare moment, could you simply imagine that he means every word?

“I know so!” he smiles, the palpitations in your chest growing intense by the second. “You just have to keep going, won’t you?”

Even if you’re not brave enough to believe it, you want to believe that there’s a single Haiba Lev in this unyielding universe who believes that you, a mere side character who wishes for more, can and will.

You feel invincible.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Vienna, Austria. January 2022.

Did you know that swans mate for life? As a symbol of love and affection, they’re widely known to curve their necks together in a shape of a heart when courting. A form of elegance at its finest... until they start hissing.

“They’re so big! Senpai, come take a look at the swans!”

Folding the brochure into a tiny square, you return to your companion’s side, peering over the railings of the bridge to catch a glimpse of the thrush of white feathers down below.

You gulp. They are much larger than you expected.

“They’re surprisingly loud, aren’t they?” you mutter, watching a cygnet waddle its way out of the water onto the banks of the canal. You didn’t want to say, but it slightly reminded you of Lev the first time he’d waddled his way into the the Orchestra Club room.

With the constant squawking of the swans, the both of you find yourself in silence. For you, at least, the past two days viewing all sorts of Austrian sights with Lev had been strangely more gratifying than you’d fathomed. Lev, who’d been as excitable as he’d always been, breathes in peace, plumes of white forming from his mouth.

“This weekend’s been nice, hasn’t it?” you break the silence, observing the smooth junctures of his face. Lev turns to you slowly, his voice squeezing out.

“Don’t say that.”

Your blood freezes. “What?”

“Saying things like that...” Lev sighs wilfully and turns back to the view of the canal. He frowns. “I don’t want to think that this weekend is going to be over soon.”

You want to cry out. Me too. Me too, me too, me too. Your entire body is so full of butterflies you want to double over and pass out. But he continues.

“Travelling and talking with you is so fun, I never want it to end... It’s kind of embarrassing,” he says, eyes sparkling. “D-Do you think so too? Am I a selfish person for thinking that?”

You shake your head. “It’s not embarrassing, Haiba-kun. I—”

Are you red? Are you blushing? Your face feels so hot, you can’t even finish your sentence. He’s so close. So close to you. You want to be reliable, you want to reply, but you can’t. Under his bewitching gaze, you’ve fallen so deep.

When Lev opens his mouth again, it’s like everything around you—the bridge, the people, the swans have entirely vanished. “L/N-senpai, c-can I tell you something? Something I wanted to tell you for a long time.”

Eh?

“I’ve always liked you, Senpai. I really, really like you.”

Blank. Your mind goes blank, even when you whisper a small, “Really?”

You’re happy, you’re so happy you want to jump and shout to the world that you love him. Awfully. Dearly. It’s all like a train had crashed into you headfirst, and you can’t settle on a proper response before the floodgates burst open.

“Wh-Whoa! Don’t cry!” he flails his arms in panic as more tears dribble down your cheeks. “Geez, Senpai, at least reply to me first...”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” you laugh, wiping your eyes with the edges of your scarf. “I’m just so happy, I didn’t know how to react.”

Lev’s chest inflates for a moment before he lunges forward to encapsulate you in his embrace. Between the persistent layers of clothing, the beating of his heart resonates deeply against your face. It’s quick and lively, warm enough to remind you of the swirled feelings that you harbor for one another.

“Oh, thank god...” Lev grins, burying his face in your shoulder. “You feel the same way...”

Humming calmly into his ear, you revel in the closure. “I really, really like you too, Haiba-kun.”

And none of you lets go—save for when a swan makes its way up to the bridge to peck at Lev’s boots.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tokyo, Japan. March 2023.

“... Lev, wake up.”

Feeling a slight nudge on his cheek, Lev tethers over opening his eyes to wonder at your beautiful smile or bury his face even deeper into the sheets.

It’s not like he didn’t favor you, but as of now, the comforts of your shared bed was more important. And thus, Haiba Lev, age 26, shrouds himself under the plush duvet and focuses himself on the sweet dream he was having about you.

“Lev, I know you can hear me...” he hears you sigh, long and airy, just enough to lull him back to sleep. “You have a fitting today, don’t you? You’re going to trouble Matsuyo-san and Alisa-nee if you arrive late.”

Isn’t that on Thursday? Actually... what day is it today? He isn’t very good with dates and formalities—that’s why he considers himself lucky to have you! A cute lover to bring him back to land during the day, and to shower with love and to cuddle with during the evening.

Yawning widely, Lev owlishly wrenches his eyes open, the crystalline sunlight from the bedroom window illuminating your face like a halo.... and was that his shirt you were wearing?

Lucky me~ he grins goofily.

Pressing his lips together, Lev pulls you by the wrist and before you can avoid the sudden attack, you’ve collapsed once more into a tangled mess of limbs and crooked sheets, with your boyfriend’s arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Let’s just stay in bed today, Y/N-san~” he slurs, nuzzling closer to you. How catlike, you think. “I want to be lovey-dovey and kissy-kissy again...”

He yawns again, a few stray tresses of silver falling over his face. As if he wasn’t as attractive every hour of the day, you really have learned how to take control of your extreme heart palpitations around him.

Your adorable younger boyfriend, ah... he really is your weakness, isn’t he?

“I’m really sorry, but I have to open up the shop soon,” you reluctantly peel yourself away from him, eliciting a small whimper from the Leviathan in your bed. “I’ll make it up to you when I finish teaching my evening lessons and when you come home, okay?”

Stubborn as a goat, Lev grumbles. “I’ll come back early, you know. Can you not do your evening lessons today?”

“Hm? Why not?” your raised eyebrow is cynical, but is juxtaposed by the gentle strokes of your palm on the crown of his head.

As much as Lev loves you (he does, he really does!), it’s rather annoying when he can’t tell if you’re seriously being oblivious or simply teasing him. He hopes for neither, but in his case, you’re an addict to his gags and without a doubt, you’re definitely messing with him right now.

“Those damn brats... I don’t like the way they stare you up during your classes.”

You laugh, raucously. And Lev considers leaving you to catch a break from the constant jeering. When you finally pipe down, you shift closer to him and press your head onto his bare chest.

“Lev, they’re nine. How else are they going to learn to play if they don’t watch me do it first?” you chuckle. “You shouldn’t worry so much about me. You should be worrying about that fitting you have in a few hours.”

“Geez, fine,” he groans. “A kiss before I shower?”

You know exactly where this is going. “Just one.”

Lighting up like a Christmas tree, Lev makes quick work of his hands and tenderly cup your cheek before placing a timid kiss on your lips.

No morning breath, you notice. As expected of a professional model.

“One more...” he whispers, swooping down on your lips once again.

Two, three and maybe seven kisses later, Lev has you caged between his arms, his looming figure propped proudly over you as he continues to pepper you with affection. The moment he starts to lap up your bottom lip, you know you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

“It’s so early, Y/N-san,” he mumbles, pleading eyes making your heart turn to jelly. “We have a few more hours before we really have to go, don’t we? So... in the meantime...?”

Sighing, you can only turn a deep red—he really has you around his finger, doesn’t he? Oh well. You suppose it won’t hurt to push back your morning lessons for a few minutes, right?

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