#his outfit is so good :) besides um the shorts over sweatpants | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

r0zyp0zy0zy · 4 years

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✾A.J.- Like a Teen Again?☼✶

Master list

Words: 2968

Warnings: masturbation, overstim, bit o’ begging, smut

Pairing: Amajiki Tamaki x FEM!reader

Summary: Tamaki gets hit with some sort of mood enhancement quirk, and it’s effects are questionable

===NSFW BELOW THE CUT===

You weren't totally caught up on Tamaki's situation, but you did know his predicament revolved around a mood type quirk. You didn't know what to expect when you arrived at the hospital he was in. Apparently he was in great physical condition, which didn't really shock you. It also didn't shock you when Tamaki was leaning his forehead against the hospital wall, and you had to reassure the nurses that this was normal.

He was let out soon after you arrived, and the doctor filled in more of the details.

"This quirk isn't powerful," the doctor explained, "Just enhances Amajiki-kun's emotions; his moods are that of a fifteen year-old boy, basically."

You nodded along, not worrying too much about Tamaki. He would just be a bit more nervous and worrisome than usual; he'd have to take a few days off to recuperate. The doctor prescribed some medication if it got really bad.

"—typical teens have sudden waves of depression, so if he shows any serious symptoms he should take one of these in the morning. You shouldn't need to use them, but it's better to be safe than sorry," the doctor smiled, handing you a small vile of what you assumed to be anti-depressants.

You thanked the doctor, and Tamaki just gave a stiff nod as he followed you out of the building.

"I-I don't feel particularly different..." Tamaki stuttered, curling his pinky with yours.

"You just seem a bit off, is all," you flashed him a smile.

"Uh- hn," he stammered, his face flushing a bright pink. You didn't think much of it when you hopped into the car with Tamaki, but you did have to help him with his seatbelt because his hands were shaking.

"Why are you so shaky, Tami?" You placed your hand on his, and his eyes widened and he seemed to freeze.

"—uh, um. Ghn," Tamaki sputtered, his cheeks becoming impossibly redder. "S-so... so... you're so hot!"

Your jaw hit the floor, and you analyzed his terrified expression. He didn't mean to say that, you realized. Was he.. really like a teenage boy right now?

"I- oh my g-god. I didn't- I, I'm so sorry," Tamaki whimpered quietly, tears forming in his eyes.

"Oh butterfly, don't cry!" You leaned forward and cupped his face in your hands. "It's ok for you to say that, I'm your girlfriend, bub."

You bit your lip trying to think of what Tamaki was like in his first year of UA. How should you comfort him? Has he always been like this?

"O-ok," he gulped, wiping away his tears.

He was silent the rest of the way home, staring out of the window and probably overthinking what he did two minutes ago. His cape surrounded him like a blanket, and his face was hidden in his hood. Damn, was he really like this all the time? You wondered.

Tamaki practically ran out of the car when you finally got to the apartment, hardly waiting for you as he strode up the stairs to your guys' room. You caught up to him a few moments later, and he stood at the door waiting for you to unlock it.

"I would ask 'what has gotten into you?', but I already know," you said as you let him in.

"Y-you do?!" Tamaki sweat dropped, and he looked as though he was going to faint.

"Tami," you deadpanned, hanging up your coat, "not twenty minutes ago did the doctor explain to me your state of mind."

"Oh, r-right," Tamaki whispered, scratching the back of his neck. "I-I'll just be in o-our room."

You watched, flabbergasted, as he disappeared into your room, not quite closing the door behind him. Aaaalrighty then.

After you started prepping dinner, you realized that you probably shouldn't leave Tamaki alone for too long, incase something happened. You quickly finished chopping the carrots, and put down the knife. You hung up your apron and opened the door to your room a crack. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull; there Tamaki was in all his glory, hero outfit stripped to the floor, sprawled out on the bed with his hand on his cock.

"B-bunny~ p-please, oh you feel so good," he whimpered, eyes scrunched tightly shut.

Oh. Now this was a rare sight. Tamaki was usually very careful to not masturbate with you in the house, fearing that you would be disappointed that he didn't just come to you instead, (Only when you walked in on him and he started crying did you realize how he felt; integrating mutual masturbation into your sex life made him feel better about doing it).

"Oh fuck, y/n," Tamaki stumbled, his toes curling. "S-so good~ your hands— so.. good."

You couldn't help but walk in and close the door behind you. The sound of your arrival startled Tamaki, and his face reddened yet again, "I-I... uh.."

"It's ok Tami," you purred, edging closer to the bed. "Do you want me to... touch you?"

Tamaki could only nod, shock still in his eyes. He gulped as you crawled towards him on the bed, taking off your shirt and reaching out your hand to his cock. His head threw back once you teased a finger along his length, fisting the bedsheets under him, "I-I'm close."

You didn't tease Tamaki, instead you encouraged him, "c'mon, Butterfly. Come for me."

You gripped him loosely, using your other hand to gently rake your nails up and down his chest. His breath quickened, and his eyes hid behind his hair, trying to conceal his desperate state. You flicked your wrist in the way you knew he liked, and he came with a long groan. You licked his cum off your hand and his chest, not breaking eye contact with his awed expression.

"I'm sorry!" Tamaki squeaked, sitting up and pressing his knees to his chest. "I didn't— I just— I c-came super fast, a-and that was r-really weird and e-embarrassing-."

"Tama, baby, it's alright," you comforted, scooting closer to rest a hand on his exposed knee. "I'm always honoured whenever I make you cum. Doesn't matter how quick."

Tamaki peeked up at you through his hair, and gave you a shaky smile, face heating up considerably. You saw his eyes widen, and you knew immediately that he was getting hard again. Tamaki squeezed his legs closer together, attempting to hide his growing erection.

You leaned down to whisper in his ear, "let me finish making dinner, and after we eat I'm all yours for the night."

Tamaki's breath hitched softly, and he gave you a slight nod, gulping down his nerves. You rubbed his knee before standing up and walking towards the bedroom door. He let out a hefty sigh once you closed the door as you left, relaxing his legs and running his fingers through his hair.

He couldn't help but feel guilty. He was the horniest he'd been since high school, and he didn't know how to cope. It was so sudden, and his body was so overwhelmed with feeling. He tried to relax and close his eyes, waiting for you to be done with dinner.

Tamaki padded down the short hallway, now clothed with sweatpants and a T-shirt, to eat with you. He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, the short nap he had taken made him feel a tad bit better.

"Hey, Butterfly!" You cheered from the sink, a dishcloth on your shoulder, "dinner is just on the table. I'll be there in a sec."

"Thank you, Bunny," Tamaki blushed, pulling out a chair to sit in. "I-It smells really good."

You hung up your cloth and smiled at him brightly, "of course, Tama-chan!"

You steered over to the table, (hair askew, and) some flour on your cheek. Tamaki couldn't help but admire your slightly disheveled appearance; he felt wrong to think of such lewd things at your flushed face. He felt his own cheeks heat up again, and bowed his head down to his meal.

Tamaki listened to you ramble about your day, a small smile adorning his face at your enthusiasm. He couldn't finish his food, too flustered about what was to come later. "let me finish making dinner, and after we eat I'm all yours for the night." He shuttered at your words, sort of restless and impatient.

You giggled at your spot by the sink, watching Tamaki drown in his thoughts as you slowly started to undress. He hadn't even realized that you took his plate from him, chopsticks still in his hand. Once you were completely naked, you tied the apron back on and continued cleaning the dishes.

A clatter from Tamaki's chopsticks sounded a few minutes later, and you assumed that he had finally come back to his senses, "can you pass me your cup and chopsticks please, Tami?"

You could practically feel the heat radiating off of Tamaki from behind you, his utensils being placed beside you on the counter. You took a few more minutes to clean up, enjoying the tension in the air. When you finally turned around to face Tamaki, it was like he'd hardly moved. He was leaning against the table, cheeks completely red, head bowed to the floor, and a raging hard-on in his pants.

"Don't you have room for a little dessert, Tama?" You teased, leaning your forearms behind you on the countertop.

You saw him visibly gulp, and nervously look up to you. His knuckles were white, still gripping the edge of the table. Usually he wouldn't be too scared to step closer and engage in a kiss, but tonight was different. You had to initiate. You slowly walked towards him, reaching out a hand to lay on his shoulder. He was tense under your gaze, and looked to the floor again.

"B-bunny, I-I-," Tamaki shook. "I'm s-so overwhelmed. I'm so- t-turned.. on. I can barely function."

"Just try and relax, Butterfly," you cooed, stroking his cheek. "How about we start off here, by the table, hmm?"

Tamaki's eyes met yours, wide and dilated. He gave a stout nod, and swallowed harshly. You guided your hands to his hips, signalling him to sit on the table. He did as he was told, now around the same hight as you. You grasped his shirt with one hand and leaned in to kiss him, causing Tamaki to let out a muffled sob. A little bit of sanity came back to him and he wrapped his arms around you, eagerly deepening the kiss.

Your hand inched lower, hovering over his sweatpants' strings. Tamaki chirped when you grazed over his cock, bucking his hips up in an attempt to get more friction. You could feel him begin to pull away, prepared to apologize, but your other hand came up and fisted the back of his head, forcing him to stay put. Tamaki whined loudly, his crotch bucking up continuously to make contact with your hand. With another rut of his hips he let out a glut of groans and whimpers, desperately clinging to your figure.

You pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, and you peered down to examine Tamaki's stained pants.

"Oh Bu-Bunny~" Tamaki said in a daze, head lolling to the side.

"Second time today, huh?" You ribbed, patting the wet spot with the pad of your finger.

"N-no," Tamaki shook his head. "Third time. I-I had a wet dream after you left and I took a n-nap."

You grinned at him, marvelling at the afterglow on his flushed face, "hm, maybe we won't even need to continue~."

"W-wait," Tamaki's eyes widened desperately, "I- I can go a few m-more rounds. Please."

You bit your lip at his puppy-dog eyes, pretending to think about his plea, "well, I don't see why not. You do have tomorrow off..."

"Thank y-you, Bunny," Tamaki cracked a wobbly smile, "I love you..."

"I love you too, my little Butterfly~," you kissed the tip of his nose, "y'think you can come to the bedroom with me?"

Tamaki nodded, hungrily licking his lips. You guided him to your room, hand interlocked with his, and lay him down on the bed. He was already semi-hard again, grasping the sheets beside him. He looked at you longingly as you slowly unraveled your apron, taking care to fold it neatly and setting it on your dresser.

Even though you stood butt naked in front of him, you still felt powerful from his zealous gaze. You took a slow turn, walking towards the dresser and pulling out a tube of lube. You placed it on the bedside table and went back to Tamaki. His chest rose and fell unevenly, elated from his past orgasms. His wide eyes watched as you slowly dragged down his soiled sweatpants, stuttering nonsense when you saw that he wasn't wearing any underwear.

"I-it was just, um. I, uh— well, y'see.." Tamaki rambled.

"S' ok, Butterfly," you soothed, throwing his pants in the laundry basket. "I was wondering why you looked so much more delicious this evening."

Tamaki whined when you gripped his tumescent cock, gleaming with leftover cum, "I-I'm so sensitive. It almost hurts, b-but I want more. So, so b-bad, bunny."

"Hm, how about I fuck you real good? How's that sound?" You asked, picking up the pace of your pumps.

Tamaki nodded eagerly, "yesyesyesyesyess pl-please."

You sat up and positioned yourself above his twitching cock, eager for his gorgeous moans and whines. You slowly dropped your hips, quickly adjusting to his size, and bottomed out.

"F-fuck, bunny," Tamaki cried, throwing his head back against his pillow. "You feel so-ho good!"

Tamaki's indigo halo of hair was spread out; sheening with his sweat. He looked dazed, his body sprawled out on the bed, and his thighs slightly sticky with cum. He sobbed in pleasure as he watched you bounce on his cock, his hands were too weak to even grip the sheets underneath him. He rubbed his hands along your thighs and waist, squeaking out moans and jumbled sentences.

"You look so pretty like this, Butterfly," you lulled, swaying your hips in teasing motions, "you're doing so well, baby. I love you."

"Iloveyoutoo~!" Tamaki griped in reply, hardly able to decipher your words. He felt like he was wrapped in a cocoon of clouds and pleasure. Is that what they mean by 'cloud 9'? He didn't have enough brainpower to think about that; or much of anything, really.

You reached over and grabbed your vibrator, having a feeling that you wouldn't be able to come from the slow pace you were set at for Tamaki. Soft buzzing filled the room as you pressed the button a few times, and you pressed it to your clit.

"Feels so good, Tama," you moaned deeply, trying to egg him on.

He seemed to stir, eyebrows scrunching up, and letting out a small whimper. Tamaki honestly felt like he was dreaming, or maybe even in Heaven. He squinted his eyes open, gazing at your blurry figure riding him. He weakly bucked his hips up, wanting you to bounce harder.

"Please," he whispered, "h-hard— harder."

You did as he wished, laying the vibrator on his stomach so you could get more leverage. Your pussy clenched deliciously around Tamaki's cock whenever your clit made contact with the vibrator, practically forcing groans and whimpers out of Tamaki.

He felt his abs clench once again, alerting him that he was close. Again. His abs were sore as hell, but he still wanted more. He wanted you to absolutely ruin him, ride him into oblivion, and milk him completely dry of his cum. Your pussy felt so good, and he thought he could feel his tongue lull out of his mouth. So... good...

A long keen left your lips as you watched Tamaki's face contort in pleasure. He was so fucked out, babbling pleads and whines. You scrambled for your phone, still riding him, and snapped a few pictures. Your little Butterfly was so hot.

You gripped the vibrator again, pressing it against your delicate clit, desperately chasing the upcoming high. "You're being so good for me, Tama. Come again with me. You can do it."

Even though your voice was muffled, your words urged him on. Tamaki nodded helplessly, not sure whether he was sobbing or moaning, (probably both).

"Please, Bunny," he tried to call. "Cum. Want you to cum on m-my cock."

"Fuck!" You exclaimed, rocking your hips faster. "Oh fuck, Tamaki. So good, so good~"

Tamaki couldn't tell if he was coming once again, or if he was just feeling really good. He heaved out a sharp whine, squirming and bucking up from under you. Yeah, he was coming again.

"Yes!" You hollered, eyes rolling back and legs uncontrollably shaking. "Yesyesyesyesssss~ Ta-ma-kiiiiii."

"Thank you thank you thank you," he pleaded, vision turning white and fuzzy. "I- cum- I came so h-ard."

You switched off the vibrator, and tossed it on the bed. You weakly lifted yourself off of Tamaki's now soft dick, a few glops of cum falling onto his stomach. Tamaki was a trembling mess, whimpering 'thank you''s, and 'let me come one more time'. You sneakily snapped a picture before rushing off to grab a warm soapy cloth.

"How are you feeling, Butterfly?" You soothed the cloth carefully around his pelvic area, cleaning up dried cum and sweat.

"A-again?" He mumbled weakly. "Please?"

"No, not until you rest up. You're over your limit and you're way too out of it to be thinking clearly," you explained, wiping his face clean of drool and sweat, "I'll get you some water and then we can cuddle."

He nodded weakly as you left for the kitchen, and you made a mental note to phone the doctor that you were pretty sure this wasn't any normal mood quirk Tamaki was hit with.

#amajiki tamaki x reader #amajiki tamaki #Tamaki Amajiki #tamaki x reader #bnha #mha #anime #fanfic #fanfiction

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

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Good Thing I wasn’t asking (Kelley O’Hara x Reader)

Request: Sequel to Touch Starved. Your Parents show up unexpectedly and Kelley might lose her cool. Just a little bit.

Author’s Note: So there will probably be a part 3 in this series after i get through my request list! Let me know what you think and hit me up with questions or concerns.

You were on a high. A massive high after your win over England in the she believes cup, a win that partially came from your very own hat trick. You still had one more game before you were inevitably crowned the She believes champions, but Kelley felt that your hard work had earned you a reward.

She smiled as you cuddled into her side on the elevator. You were dressed in a pair of her #5 uswnt sweatpants and an old Stanford sweatshirt, a beaney placed firmly on your head. Part of your reward was that you got to go to dinner in daddy’s clothing, and Kelley thought you looked absolutely adorable swimming in her clothes.

“You excited for dinner baby girl?” She asked as the elevator door dinged open, winking at you slightly. You nodded enthusiastically, tucking yourself under Kelley’s arm. You were sure that she had picked something you would like, something that probably resembled a cheeseburger or pizza.

Kelley laughed at your excitement, guiding you towards the front door of the hotel, unable to take her eyes off of your blinding smile. She had an amazing night planned out for you, she was going to completely spoil her baby girl (Both in the bedroom and outside the bedroom).

“Ah finally. We’ve been waiting for you for hours,” The deep voice sent a shiver down your spine, the smile slipping off of your face, your good mood disappearing in an instant. Your father heaved himself off of the lobby sofa with an agitated huff. He pulled his suit jacket straight, his nose scrunching slightly at your closeness to your favorite soccer player.

“And do we really need to have another conversation about acceptable clothing Y/n,” Your mother’s shrill question had you swallowing back a cringe. You glanced down at yourself, you loved this outfit. It made you feel safe and comfy and wrapped you up in Kelley’s amazing scent.

Kelley’s eyes snapped up to meet your parents’ gaze, taking in your father’s far too expensive suit and the gaudy pearls that adorned your mother’s neck.

You straightened your back, and schooled your features, but did not untangle yourself from your girlfriend.

“We didn’t know that you would be here. Why are you here?” You asked formally, blinking at them in shock. You were in Chicago for the tournament but didn’t think that it was important enough to warrant a visit. You had prayed and downplayed it enough to get them to stay as far away as you could get them.

Your father’s face hardened as though he had been challenged, a thick line forming just above his brow. “Seeing as you were in town, we decided to introduce you to another worthy suitor,” He intoned, stepping to the side to reveal a boy who looked to be about your age. He was conveniently handsome you supposed, with dark hair and bright eyes, but you would never ever want him. He couldn’t hold a candle to your girl, and you were about a million percent sure that she could pull off his suit way better than he was. You suppressed your eye-roll, why couldn't your parents understand that you were happy with the woman of your dreams? You felt Kelley tense beside you, and you squeezed her waste comfortingly to reassure her. She had no competition here.

“um, we’ve talked about this. I’m already in a happy relationship and I don’t need your assistance,” You said carefully but sternly, tilting your head to the taller woman in your arms. You didn’t want to start a fight, but you refused to let them walk all over your girlfriend. Your mother’s lip twitched in disdain, and your father's face hardened.

“Ah, Kelley will you be joining us for dinner?” Your mother asked, sickly sweet. It was the tone she used when she was annoyed but didn’t want anyone to know. The one she used when someone she deemed to be beneath her was interrupting her plans. You opened your mouth to challenge the implication, but your very beautiful girlfriend spoke for you.

“Actually, we already had plans, but perhaps we could go out to eat another night,” You stated, smiling tightly at your parents. The last thing you wanted to do right now was deal with your parents, and if you could avoid it, you really wanted to.

“Nonsense. We’re free and David is free. Y/n will go change into something presentable and we will be off,” Your father said dismissively with a wave of his hand. Kelley opened her mouth to protest but was again cut off by your soft squeeze of her side.

She finally tore her eyes off of your uninvited parents to glance in your direction. Her eyebrows furrowed when she took in your defeated expression and the way you seemed to sink into yourself, a complete 180 to the exuberant mood you had been in mere moments before. Why did they think they had the right to just barge in and destroy your plans? Who gave them the right?

Your eyes were firmly locked in the ground as you nodded lightly. It was just easier to agree and avoid an argument. Kelley hated how you were always giving in to them to gain their approval.

“I’ll be down in a few,” You mumbled sadly, kissing Kelley’s cheek and untangling yourself from the woman. She held onto your hand for a second longer, squeezing your fingers to reassure you that she wasn’t mad, and trying to get a good read on you. You smiled sadly at her, it seemed that your reward would have to wait.

“No more than 5 minutes young lady,” Your father called after you, as you hurried towards the elevator. You didn’t want to know what he would do if he decided you were wasting his time. It was as though he didn’t even care he had unconvinced you and forced you to change your plans. He watched you go with irritation. What he was irritated with, Kelley didn’t know, but he always seemed to be wearing a frown around you.

“And wear something presentable for David,” Your mother added with a huff, grumbling about your lack of fashion sense under her breath. Kelley rolled her eyes, you looked amazing in whatever you wore, whether it was a floor-length gown or one of her old t-shirts. You were gorgeous inside and out. She just wished they could see that.

*****

“Look, I know this is uncomfortable and I just wanted to apologize. They didn’t tell me that she was in a committed relationship,” The suitor said quietly, sitting down next to Kelley on the hotel lobby couch. Your parents had commandeered the bar area, and she wanted to be as far away from them as she could be.

Hence why she was sitting on this fucking couch, her knee bouncing, staring at the poor boy whose name she didn’t care enough to remember like he had grown three heads.

“Excuse me?” She asked exasperatedly. The boy smiled lightly, his kind eyes meeting hers. He wanted to be here just about as much as she did.

“They never said that the girl they wanted me to meet was in a relationship and I apologize that they are ignorant enough to try and break whatever you to have up,” He said. Kelley nodded at him, returning his smile.

“Thank you, David,” she murmured, and he shook his head as if to say that the thanks weren’t needed. He had seen your smile and the way you leaned naturally into her touch. The way she had kept her arm around you as if she was grounding you. Whatever the two of you had was incredibly special, and he wasn’t about to try and break that up.

“I’ll try and run as much interference as I can. She didn’t exactly look happy to see them,” David laughed, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably, and Kelley felt her lips tick up. He didn’t seem like a bad kid, just a poor soul that got mixed up in your family’s bullshit.

“No, she wasn’t,” Kelley nodded, turning towards the elevator when it let out its telltale ding. Her breath left her, her train of thought screeching to a halt when you stepped out. A loud laugh sounded from beside her, but all her attention was on you. You looked fucking hot in that little black dress. Just so… delicious.

You blushed under Kelley’s hungry gaze, well not really Kelly’s. Daddy’s hungry gaze was probably more accurate.

“Hm, better than that monstrosity you were wearing before, but still not up to par. You really should consider going on that diet I sent you dear,” Your mother appraised you, the tension between you and Kelley evaporating into thin air.

Kelley frowned. You were one of the top athletes in the world, and your abs could rival those of Hope Solos. You had one of the strictest diets of the team, and Kelley was always trying to get you to relax a little.

“Ready to go?” You asked, sending your mother a tight smile. Kelley took that as her cue to grab your hand and link your arms, placing a very sweet kiss on your cheek. You leaned into her, allowing her strong frame to ground you, to support you, because God knew you needed it.

“You look amazing as always my love,” She whispered in your ear, placing a very short kiss on the skin just below it.

“You’ve already made us miss our reservation with your lackadaisical attitude. I will not let more frivolous behavior hinder us again” Your father glared at the two of you, his agitation clear. You cleared your throat, and Kelley straightened.

Complementing you was never a waist. She would take absolutely every opportunity she had to make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Spending that extra second to make you feel good was worth missing even the most important reservations in the world.

*****

Kelley was going to die or kill someone before this meal was over. You hated overly fancy restaurants (like why the fuck would you waste 70$ on a plate of subpar food?), yet here you were munching on a much too expensive salad (Kelley knew how much you despised uncooked green vegetables and lettuce) while your father basically took a cheese grater to you accomplishments, ambitions and love life. So yes Kelley was not pretty sure that she wasn’t going to make it through this dinner.

“I don’t know when you’re going to come to your senses and realize that your soccer ambitions don’t provide adequate financial support,” Your father said seriously, pointing his steak covered fork in your direction.

“Yes, and David has a very secure position in our firm. He could more than easily provide you with a satisfactory lifestyle,” Your mother added, smiling at the boy who was looking increasingly uncomfortable at your parents' attempts to set you up with him. Kelley released a low huff, opening her mouth as if to respond. You placed your hand on Kelley’s knee, and her mouth clicked closed.

“I can assure you that our income is more than sufficient to accommodate our lifestyle,” You said, taking a bite of your very sucky salad. Between your world cup winnings and the numerous sponsorships you had acquired, you weren’t doing half bad for yourselves. You sure as hell didn’t need David’s income.

Your father stiffened, glancing up from his meal to glare in your direction.

“I think you had a slip of the tongue,” He growled, unhappy that you were embarrassing him in front of one of his employees. You sent him a confused glance, tilting your head to the side unsure of what he was talking about.

“You indicated a shared lifestyle and income base dear,” Your mother smiled fakely at you, laughing at what you assumed was your empty-headedness.

“I know. It wasn’t a mistake. Kelley and I are in love. We live together. We share a life together,” You ground out, setting your fork down, and leaning forward. You didn’t understand why they didn’t get that you were very serious about Kelley.

“Love is for children,” Your father spat, taking a far too large bite of his disgustingly expensive steak. “And when this honeymoon phase runs out, you will be very sorry that you have spent so much time wallowing with this… woman. Sharing her bed like a common whore,” Your father finished. Your grip on Kelley’s leg tightened in an attempt to hold back the very obvious and angry thoughts trickling through your head. How could they be so close-minded? How could they not see that you were finally happy and respect that?

The silence at the table was defining and heavy, while you and Kelley sat in stunned silence. Your parents continued their meal, completely oblivious to the weight that settled on your half of the table.

“Um, I think I’m going to go to the bathroom for a moment,” You mumbled, folding your napkin in a hurry and moving to stand from the table. You needed a second to compose yourself. A second to sort through your emotions so you could continue this dinner with a level head. So you could smother the overwhelming urge to punch your father in the face.

“I’ll go with you,” Kelley said, also moving to stand, but you shook your head. You knew that Kelley- Daddy could make everything better. She would wrap you up in her arms, and you would be safe to break down, to give into the sea of emotions crashing over you. You didn’t want to do that. You needed to maintain control.

“No, I just-... I’ll be back in a minute,” You stuttered, rushing off to the bathroom before the tears could fall. Kelley worriedly watched you go, a frown settling on her face. You rarely ever pushed her away like this. She turned back towards your parents, her lips a thin line. If you wouldn’t stick up for yourself, then she was going to do it for you, her protective instincts coming out in full force, and the very heavy ring settled in her pocket spurring her forward.

“It’s sad, you know?” She hummed, taking a bite, and drawing your parents’ attention for the first time of the evening. Your father quirked an eyebrow at her as if daring her to continue. The last time they had met ended badly, and she was sure that this was headed in that direction.

“That you are so blinded by your pride and arrogance that you can’t see Y/n’s accomplishments and the amazing life she had created for herself. Without your help,�� Kelley said seriously, maintaining eye contact with your father. He sighed, finally setting down his fork and leaned back in his chair, schooling his features as if he was in a negotiation with a lawyer he didn’t like.

“I suppose you’re talking about her agreement to enter into a fling type relationship with you?” Your mother scoffed, all pretenses of kindness evaporating.

“No. Not at all,” Kelley shook her head, ignoring the accusation that she was only using you for sex. Your father’s eyebrow ticked up in interest, and she took that as her cue to continue. “Y/n is one of the best soccer players in the world. She was the Fifa player of the year, holds the record for most goals in both a season and a single game, as well as a world cup champion. She scored the winning goal against the Netherlands,” Kelley listed off, resisting the urge to yell at the people across from her like she wanted to. Your parents didn’t respond like normal humans. The only way to get through to them was to present it like a business deal.

“Her career will be short-lived, much like your relationship. What happens when she gets injured, or a newer younger player comes in and shows the world what a subpar athlete she really is?” Your father questioned, unwilling to relinquish his stance that you needed a real job. Kelley sighed. She wasn’t one to follow traditions, but maybe telling your parents about her plans would get them off your back about marrying a man.

“First, Y/n works her ass off to be the best, and that makes the difference. Secondly, I would stand by her no matter what her ability to play was, and thirdly, I don’t know what else we have to do to show you that our relationship is far from short term,” She ground out, beginning to lose her patience with the people across from her. David seemed to have shrunk as far as he could in his seat, wishing he was anywhere else.

“This is just a stubborn phase for Y/n. You are just a phase,” Your mother snorted, a vindictive smile playing on her lips. Frankly, your girlfriend was tired of them minimizing your 4-year relationship, and she was about to blow their minds. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the velvet box that was the key to your futures.

“This isn’t a phase, trust me. I’m going to make your daughter my wife,” Kelley said loudly, placing the box on the table. Your parents froze, their eyes glued to the small object. They had ruined her proposal plans, so she had a very hard time feeling sorry for ruining their dinner.

Your mother slowly reached out and opened the box, a gasp leaving her lips when she saw the mesmerizing ring Kelley had chosen for you. Kelley grabbed the box and returned it to her pocket so you didn’t see it until she intended for you too.

“I do not give you my consent or my blessing to marry my daughter,” Your father said, his voice shaking in what Kelley assumed was anger. She smirked at the man, standing from her seat.

“Good thing I wasn’t asking,” She spat as she stalked off towards the bathroom to collect you. She wasn’t going to let you sit through another moment of this abysmal night. Hopefully, she could salvage the rest of it. She had a very good girl to reward if she remembered correctly.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #kelley o'hara x reader #kelley o'hara imagine

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beauvibaby · 4 years

Text

Anthony Beauvillier – First Christmas

• living across the hall from Anthony Beauvillier has its perks, and thanksgiving is where it all changes •

word count: 8.6k

warnings: brief mention of death, and like two innuendos of sex (barely)

You returned from the grocery store, having an odd pep in your step despite the chaos you had just endured to get your hands on this turkey for thanksgiving in just a few short days. You looked around your apartment, sure, you had some harvest decor up, but with the way it was already so chilly outside, and the hallmark Christmas movies being a nightly routine of yours. You decided you wanted to decorate, sure, it was a little early, but you wanted the extra cheer, and you knew your family would love it when they came over for thanksgiving, your first year hosting–come to think of it, maybe you were decorating to ignore the stress of that responsibility. So you changed into some comfier clothes, slipping your fuzzy slippers on and hauling your decor out of the closet, only a few bins since it was a relatively small apartment, but your tree was your prized possession. It looked like it came out of a catalog, but still felt homey, and you adored that. You quickly changed out the wreath on the outside of the front door, you heard the elevator open as you slid the fall colored wreath off, and began struggling to get the large Christmas wreath to stay on the hook, you heard a couple of pairs of feet walking down the hall, you stole a glance.

“Hi, Anthony.” You smiled softly, he was a nice enough neighbor, always polite, sometimes he could be a little flirty, but you always brushed it off, knowing his status, you attributed it to him being able to get whatever girl he wants. “Hi, Y/N.” He responded with a small wave, holding in a chuckle as he and his friend, Mat, you think, watched you struggle. “I think that wreath is a little too big, don’t you?” Anthony finally cracked, grabbing the fall one from you, “besides, isn’t it a little early to decorate?” He added, you finally found the tie you’d weaved into the wreath and secured it to the hook. “One, it is not too big, and two, it is never too early to decorate for Christmas.” You gasped, taking the fall wreath back from him, crossing your arms dramatically, with a huff. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a tree to put up.” You smiled dramatically shutting the door, cringing when you heard the wreath fall on to the ground. A soft knock following, you looked out the peephole and saw Anthony holding it with a teasing smile. “Just put it on the hook, Anthony!” You shouted through the door, “for the last time, call me, Tito!” He groaned, putting the wreath on the hook and walking off with his friend.

***

“Mom!” You gasped into the phone the second she answered, “well happy thanksgiving to you too.” She giggled, “my oven won’t turn on!” You groaned, it was time for you to be putting the turkey in the oven, along with the green bean casserole, “is it the cooktop too? Or just the actual oven?” Your mom questioned, you scrambled to turn the burners on, watching as they glowed bright red emitting the heat instantly. “Just the oven.” You sniffled in annoyance, why couldn’t this just go right. “Oh honey, don’t cry, we can just get takeout.” She assured you, “my first time hosting and it was a huge fail.” You groaned, before an idea popped into your head, a crazy idea–but an idea nonetheless. “I’ll call you back, mom, I have an idea!” You rushed to hang up the phone. Quickly, you dabbed the tears from your eyes and smoothed out your shirt before confidently walking across the hall to the door you’d only knocked on once, and that was to ask him to keep it down. You lifted your hand and hesitated, “ok, here goes nothing.” You whispered before giving three soft knocks, you heard movement from inside, followed by the lock turning. “Y/N?” Anthony cocked his head to the side, sweatpants and a t-shirt covering his frame. “Uh, hi.” You spoke nervously, he smiled at your clearly nervous demeanor, “everything ok?” He questioned, “I thought your family was coming over today?” He added, shocking you that he even remembered that you told him that nearly two weeks ago. “Oh-uh-they are, but I have a little problem.” You rocked on your feet, he motioned for you to continue, as he leaned against the door frame. “My oven won’t turn on.” You blurted, he stared blankly at you, not picking up on what you were insinuating. “Can I use your oven? If you don’t have any plans, and you’re more than welcome to join us, it’s the least I could do, really.” You rambled, not daring to meet his eyes, he let out a soft laugh. “I hope you don’t make a dry turkey.” He opened the door, silently inviting you in. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” You cheered, resisting the urge to hug him. “You just saved my thanksgiving.” You sighed in relief, rushing over to your apartment as he laughed boyishly at your excitement. You came back with a turkey, already bagged and ready to cook, easily walking into his kitchen as his apartment mirrored yours.

You quickly set his oven to preheat to the correct temperature, taking the chance to look around, his apartment was a lot cleaner than you figured a bachelor nhl player would keep it. “Did you need any help? I’m no chef, but I think I can be of some use.” He laughed approaching you, “no, I’ve got it, thank you, again, so much.” You sighed, smiling at him. “I don’t want to impose, you know, I don’t have to join you.” He laughed a little nervously. Your eyes shot up at him, “you wouldn’t be imposing! It’s the least I could do, you’re lending me your kitchen for goodness sakes.” You gasped, feeling your phone buzz in your pocket, your mom asking if you figured anything out. You quickly told her you got it under control, and that your neighbor would be joining you, to which she simply sent a thumbs up. “So who am I then? The crazy neighbor next door that let a girl use his kitchen to cook? That’s a long title to introduce.” Anthony quipped, sitting on the edge of his counter, legs dangling in front of the cabinet. “No, you’re Tito, the nice guy across the hall.” You shrugged, missing the way his lips turned up at the use of his nickname. “Wow, you can actually listen.” He joked, you blushed under his gaze, “don’t get used to it, you're doing me a favor, I figured I’d use your nickname for once.” You teased lightly, watching the way he threw his head back in laughter. “Oh my god, you didn’t have any plans did you?” The thought suddenly hit you, he shook his head, “no, I’m off today, figured I’d be lazy, but who am I to turn down good food.” He spoke softly, watching as guilt flashed in your eyes, “don’t worry about it, Y/N. It’ll be fun, I’ve never met a girls parents that I wasn’t dating.” He joked, earning an eye roll from you. “Who’s coming?” He tilted his head to the side again, asking the question with a small hint of concern, for some reason unknown to him, he wanted to leave a good impression, even if he just was ‘Tito the nice guy across the hall’.

You let out a nervous laugh, “my mom, dad, grandma, uncle, my brother, sister in law and two nieces.” With every name you listed off his eyes grew wider, “oh.” He laughed softly, at least I’m good with kids, he thought to himself. Surely that would be an easy way to impress your family. “Oh, and you should know, my grandma doesn’t really speak English.” You added, grimacing when his face fell, “she speaks Italian, but she’ll try to talk in English for you.” You explained, nervously shrugging, the oven finally being warm enough for the turkey, you slid it in, setting a timer on the oven and your phone, “um, so I’ll just come back when it’s time to put the green beans in?” You asked, shifting awkwardly. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.” Tito smiled, “thank you, Tito.” You responded, walking past him as you felt his eyes on you, “anytime, Y/N.”

Two hours later and here you were walking into his apartment with a casserole dish full of green beans, you didn’t see him in the living room, so you assumed he was in his room, you simply went to the oven, adding the green beans to the lower rack, smiling at how well the turkey was cooking, your family would be here in about an hour, and you had the mashed potatoes, gravy and anything else ready to be cooked on your stovetop. You were setting a new timer when you heard footsteps, Tito standing frozen in the hallway, a towel wrapped low around his hips. “Oh, I’m sorry!” You gasped looking away when you eyed him for too long. “It’s ok, sorry, I didn’t know you were out here.” He apologized, laughing nervously as he turned, being sure to hold his towel tightly in place, you stole a glance as he rushed back down the hall, you knew he was attractive, but he was even more so than you thought. He came back out a moment later with jeans on as he buttoned up a short sleeve shirt, his chain laying against his chest, you bit your lip at the sight before coming to your senses. “You clean up nice, Beauvillier.” You teased, watching as his eyes snapped up at the use of his last name. He smirked, “so you did look me up.” He pointed out, watching as you blushed bright red under his gaze. “Me? No, I would never.” You joked, “listen, I had to make sure my new neighbor wasn’t a serial killer.” You defended, earning a deep chuckle from him, something that was quickly becoming your new favorite sound. “I thought you weren’t a hockey fan.” He reminded you, this time instead of smirking when you blushed, he smiled, if he had even a part of the reason why you were suddenly watching hockey, it made him happy. “I watch your games, that’s it.” You admitted, “really?” He gasped, walking towards the kitchen, peeking through the window on the oven door, “looks good.” He added, smoothing out his shirt. He looked over your outfit, “is the dress code sweatpants?” He teased, only then did you realize you were still in your house clothes. “No,” you paused to laugh, “I’m going to go get ready now, I’ll be back for those when the timer goes off!” You called already making your way out the door. “Have fun!” Tito called in response as you shut his front door, a smile lingering on his face.

The timer on your phone went off and you silently cursed as you were trying to get the zipper up on the simple burgundy dress you put on, of course, it was just family there was no reason to dress up, but it was a tradition really, all of you always put on something at least a little nicer. You turned the timer off on your phone and rushed across the hall, walking right in, like this was a normal occurrence, Tito was in the kitchen pulling the pans out of the oven for you. “Thank you.” You sighed in relief, afraid the green beans would’ve started to burn by now, he finally looked over at you, his eyes lingering on the dress. “Yeah-“ he cleared his throat, “yeah no problem.” He stood up straight, shutting the oven door. “Uh, do you mind zipping this for me?” You asked sheepishly, sweeping your hair over one shoulder, he nodded and you turned your back to him, feeling goosebumps litter your skin as he pulled the zipper up slowly, his breath fanning over the back of your neck. “There you go.” He whispered, hesitating to step away, but so did you, finally you heard commotion out in the hall and realized your family must be outside your door, “thank you.” You cleared your throat, all but jumping away from him. You each grabbed pot holders and began making your way to the door, somehow you opened it with your elbow, smiling at your family that was huddled around the door. “It’s open, go on in.” You encouraged them, seeing the way they looked at Tito behind you. They pushed open the door to your apartment, your nieces instantly rushing to the couch where they knew you’d have a Christmas movie set up for them to watch, your dad held the door open for everyone as you filed in, “thanks.” You sighed, rushing to the kitchen to set down the green beans, Tito right behind you, desperate to set down the turkey that was growing heavier by the second.

You scrambled around to introduce everyone to Anthony, to which he kept saying, “call me Tito.” And everyone chuckled, your grandma whispered to you, once she heard his name, asking if he was Italian, you giggled and told her no. She grumbled, making her way to her seat but still being kind nonetheless.

Your dad helped you cut the turkey, asking question after question about Tito, “I’m not dating him, stop it. He just let me use his oven.” You snapped lightly, your dad nudged you with his shoulder, “well then don’t get so defensive.” He teased, washing his hands after finally getting the turkey carved.

You looked out into the living room, seeing your brother and Tito talking like they were the best of friends, your nieces occasionally walking up to him and asking something. You smiled at the sight, your mother catching your gaze, “he’s cute.” She commented, you shot her a look, “what? I’m just making a statement.” She put her hands up in defense, laughing when you sighed, knowing she was implying more than that. “Time to eat!” You called, everyone forming a line through the kitchen, you laughed at the site, saving yourself for last. You grabbed a plate and stood behind your grandma, Anthony glanced and saw the two of you, he frowned and moved behind you. “What are you doing? You can go before me.” You whispered, he shook his head, “ladies first.” He mumbled, placing a hand on your back when you went to move around him. “Are you sure?” You questioned, moving forward as your grandma did, “positive.” He whispered, watching as your grandma turned to the two of you. “Y/N, puoi fare il mio piatto, tesoro? Sono stanco.”(can you make my plate, sweetheart? I’m tired.) She asked solemnly, “si, vai a sederti, un po 'di tutto?” (Yes, go sit, a little of everything?) you responded, setting your plate down and taking the one from her, she nodded, hobbling over to the table with her cane. You frowned to yourself, “sorry, let me just make her plate real quick.” You apologized to Tito, he shook his head, “no rush.” He smiled softly, going as far as to take her plate from you and bring it to her when you were done, so you could make your own.

You smiled when he returned, “thank you, you didn’t have to.” You whispered, again, he placed a hand on your back, this time you felt his thumb move back and forth for a moment, “it’s ok, I don’t mind.” He assured you, patiently waiting until you were done to make his plate and join everyone at the table, of course, the only seat being open was next to you. Dinner went on perfectly, everyone having a good time and chatting, you definitely took notice to how much your nieces liked Tito, the sight along warming your heart. By the time the night was over, you’d had a couple glasses of wine, your face shaded pink from the alcohol, and your family was making their way out while Tito lingered behind, “let me help you clean up.” He insisted, “no!” You refused, he’d done to much already. “Y/N.” He deadpanned, “Anthony.” You mimicked, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve done too much, I can’t let you do this.” You added, pushing him out of your kitchen, he chuckled, letting you think you were actually moving him, when we all know he was just walking himself. “You’re very stubborn.” He pointed out when you reached your doorway. You rolled your eyes, hesitating for a moment, you pushed up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “thank you, Tito. It was nice having you over.” You whispered, leaning away, but still staying close to his face, god, how he wanted to kiss your wine stained lips, and stay with you even if it meant washing dishes together, he just found you contagious–and he wanted more. But he didn’t kiss your lips, he didn’t want to scare you off, he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, your eyes fluttered shut at the delicate action, you wanted to melt into his arms and tell him to never stop. “Goodnight, Y/N.” He mumbled, and just like that he was back across the hall in his own apartment, leaving you there to touch your forehead, shocked that he had just done that, little did you know he was doing the same to where your leftover lipstick stained his cheek.

***

It was the weekend after thanksgiving and you were anxiously waiting for it to be time for the islanders game, despite there still being a couple of hours until then, there was a soft knock on your door and you walked over, looking through the peephole but seeing no one, you opened the door, looking to see if you’d gotten a package and you couldn’t help but laugh as you saw an islanders jersey folded on your door mat, a note on top of it, what you didn’t know was Tito was watching you through the peephole of his apartment door. A smile covering his face as you bent down to grab the material, hugging it to your body as you read the note,

“Hopefully this fuels on your new hockey obsession!”

You let out a genuine laugh, glancing over at his door, shaking your head with a laugh, you unfolded the jersey, smile widening when you saw his name sprawled across the back.

You changed into it when you got inside, smiling at how the material was baggy on your frame, you laughed softly, taking a mirror photo, daring maybe, but you had gotten his number after thanksgiving, so you figured, why not use it. You sent the photo,

“It fits like a glove–a very oversized baggy glove”

He read the message nearly instantly, making your heart race,

“I think it looks better on you than it does on me”

“Are you flirting with me, Tito?”

His response was quick,

“So you finally noticed.”

“Good luck tonight! I’ll be rooting for you”

You locked your phone after you sent your response, looking up in your mirror to see your red cheeks looking back at you. A fluttering feeling in your stomach at the thought of him even being remotely interested in you. Making your way into the kitchen, a thought popped into your headed, you had already planned on doing some baking, why not make a few extra for the cute guy across the hall, you laughed to yourself but started your adventure, setting aside a mix of cookies for him, you’d bring them and leave them on his doorstep when the game was over, so they wouldn’t be sitting out there for too long. You changed the TV to the hockey channel, listening to them talk about what was to come while you baked, your ears perking up everytime they mentioned Anthony. The time flew and before you knew it the game was over, the islanders winning by only one point, but it was still a win, you grabbed the container, sticking a post it note to the top,

“I’m free on Friday.”

Daring, most definitely, but you felt bold, a connection between the two of you that you thought only happened in movies. You set the tin on his doormat, knowing he wasn’t home yet, but still you smiled, making your way back home and giving one last glance to the Christmas themed container sitting there.

When you woke up, you were surprised to see two messages from Tito, a smile forcing its way onto your face.

“I’ll pick you up at five on Friday, dress warm”

“Holy shit, Y/N, these cookies are amazing!”

You laughed at his second message,

“See you then!”

A giddy feeling filling your stomach at the thought of what you would be doing Friday.

***

Friday came quicker than you thought it would, which was a win in your book, you were finishing up the laces on your boots when Anthony knocked on your door. You stood up, giving yourself one more look in the mirror, your outfit was nothing special, skinny jeans, a pretty blouse that was currently being covered by your thick coat, a blush scarf around your neck, and the boots with a small heel on them, but you looked good. You opened the door, smiling at Anthony, “hi.” You spoke, watching him give you a once over, “hi.” He repeated, pulling flowers out from behind his back, “oh, they’re so pretty!” You gasped, taking them from his outstretched hand, “thank you.” You added as he followed you inside as you went to put them in a vase before you left. “Of course.” He grinned, “you look beautiful.” He added, you glanced down at your outfit and back at him, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes, “you clean up pretty well yourself.” You laughed, looking at his dark jeans and long tan coat, a black scarf around his neck. “I try.” He posed, making you laugh when you glanced over at him. “Where are we going?” You questioned, setting the vase on the counter, flipping the lights off as you made your way towards him. “It’s a surprise.” He retorted, following behind you, “oooh, a surprise.” You smiled at him, “it’s going to be kind of a long car ride though, I hope you don’t mind.” He suddenly looked nervous, “that’s ok, I can make small talk with you, Tito.” You teased softly, not feeling nervous for this date at all, it was easy to be around him.

The car ride was long, but you quickly figured out you were going into the city, a smile gracing your face when you found out why, “you didn’t.” You gasped as the car pulled to a stop at the side of the road, the Rockefeller tree just to the left of you, “I did.” He smiled happily, following you as you rushed to climb out of the car, “Anthony, this is too much. You didn’t have to bring me all the way out here.” You suddenly felt guilty as he paid for the ride, that couldn’t have been cheap. “Shush, I wanted to, I wanted it to be special.” He mumbled sheepishly, you hugged your coat tighter to yourself, smiling up at him. “I love it.” You assured him, pulling your gloves on your hands, him doing the same before making the move to lace your fingers together, you didn’t hesitate to do it, smiling at the way your hand fit in his. “I figured we could go skating, and maybe grab something to eat if you’re hungry.” He explained, watching the way your eyes lit up as you looked at the giant tree, you nodded wordlessly, “yes, yeah, whatever you want to do.” You breathed out, eyes focused on the tree in front of you, “I haven’t been able to come see this in years.” You added, glancing over at him to find him staring right at you, “it’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked, looking back to the tree, and seeing the people down below skating around the rink, “it’s gorgeous.” He answered, barely looking at the tree before stepping closer to you. “I should tell you now, I’m definitely not the best skater.” You laughed nervously, watching as a couple down on the ice struggled to skate together. “That’s ok, I think I can manage.” He joked, laughing when you rolled your eyes, “don’t be a show off, it’s not attractive.” You retorted, smiling when he squeezed your hand a little tighter as a brush of wind came through, your hair flipping in front of your face. He pushed it back, leaving his hand in your cheek for a minute, “what do you say? You gonna show me those skating skills.” He spoke, moving his hand away, you shivered at the loss of contact, “yeah.” You whispered, allowing him to lead the way.

“Anthony!” You shrieked when he dropped your hand as you got on the ice, “I’m right here.” He laughed, skating backwards slowly in front of you, “stop.” You pouted, reaching out for his hands as you struggled to catch your footing, it’s been a long time since you’d done this. “I won’t let you fall.” He assured you, grabbing your hands as you looked panicked. “I got you.” He added, meeting your eyes, the smile on his face being contagious as you looked at him. “Promise?” You teased, slowly pushing off on your skates, he easily met your pace, glancing behind him every once in a while. “Promise.” He spoke sincerely, rubbing his thumbs over the tops of your hands as you slowly became more confident in your abilities. “How embarrassing, I’m on a date with Long Island royalty and I can barely skate.” You joked, he shook his head, releasing one of your hands and moving to be beside you, “I’m not royalty, and you’re doing good babe.” The word fell from his mouth, he looked away in embarrassment. “Thanks.” You giggled, easing his nerves, gripping him harder when you came up to the curve, he laughed, easily guiding you, and he was right, he didn’t let you fall once. On the ice at least.

You were walking down the sidewalk, to a little restaurant on the corner, when your boot hit a patch of icy snow, your foot swinging up and out from under you, Anthony’s hold on your hand not doing much but keeping you from fully smacking your head on the sidewalk. You yelped as your butt landed hard on the cement, your shoulders following but thankfully keeping your head up. “Shit, Y/N, are you ok?” Anthony was kneeling beside you instantly, helping you sit up, “are you ok?” He asked again, brushing your arms off, you nodded stifling back a laugh at his concern, also using it to hide the pain you were feeling on your butt. “Ouch,” you whispered, standing up with his help, brushing off your legs, “yeah, I’m fine.” You spoke, catching his concerned gaze. “I’m sorry, oh my god.” He laughed nervously, you shrugged, “it’s not your fault.” You assured him, walking off the pain, laughing when he walked a lot closer to you this time. “Do you still want to go eat? I can just take you home.” He rushed, seeing the small limp in your walk, “no, no, I want to go eat, don’t worry.” You turned to him, resting a hand on his chest, “I’m ok, promise.” You whispered, the wind coming through again, blowing his scarf up a little, covering his jaw, you pushed it down, letting your hand linger there. You pushed yourself up, his hands going to your waist to steady you as he brushed his lips against yours. “Kiss me.” You breathed out, his lips on yours a second later, he moved one of his hands to your cheek, rubbing it affectionately, sighing into the kiss. You finally pulled away to breathe, a smile on your face, your eyes opening slowly to find him already smiling down at you. “So, food?” He asked, watching as you tipped your head back in laughter, you couldn’t help but steal another quick kiss, “food, but I’m paying.” You demanded, he’d already paid for so much, there was no way you were letting him pay for food too. “What? No!” He gasped, walking beside you, an arm over your shoulders, “no I’m paying.” He deadpanned, “you paid for skating, and the ride up here.” You reminded him, and he looked at you with raised brows, “so?” He quipped, “that’s too much!” You whined, looking up at him with a pout, “no it’s not!” He groaned, “just let me be a gentleman.” He demanded, teasingly rolling his eyes at you.

“Fine, then I’m paying for the next date.” You gave in, and he smiled at you, “so you’re saying there will be another date?” He teased, you nodded, “at least so I can pay for it.” You giggled, blushing at his next response, “oh, I think there will be a lot more than just two dates.”

***

You stepped out of the elevator as it dinged, of course, of course Tito had to be getting ready for a game right now, you wiped at the tears on your face, wishing you could see your boyfriend of only a couple of weeks, the two of you being inseparable whenever you were both not working, thankfully your schedule was pretty set in stone so you always knew when you’d be off. You took a shaky breath as you struggled to unlock your front door, mind racing at what just happened, your grandma going to the hospital for a simple nose bleed, unable to get it to stop, to now, her being moved into a hospice center because her heart was failing. It all happened so quick, you’d spent the whole day by her side, calling out of work the second your mom called and told you what happened. You finally got the key in your door, letting the tears fall freely again, your phone ringing in your pocket, you were afraid to check it. You shakily pulled it out, unsure if you should be relieved or nervous that Tito was calling you. They were about to play the rangers, and you knew it was a big deal, but you couldn’t make it to the game, you had completely forgotten that he was going to call you beforehand.

“Hello?” You tried to speak evenly into the phone, “hi, baby.” Tito breathed out, his nerves melting away as he heard your voice, the pet names came easy for him, the second you two decided that you were really going to do this, he hardly used your name anymore. You were a little slow to use them on him, not used to having a guy that adored you that much. “Are you getting ready for the game?” You asked, thankful that he hadn’t caught on to your slightly rough voice. “Yes, I just wanted to call you first. You’re going to watch right?” He asked jokingly, of course you were going to watch. “Of course I am, I’m going to get my jersey right now.” You laughed softly, enjoying the soothing sound of his voice. “Will you be home tonight?” You asked, thinking maybe you might try and stay up to see him. “Yeah, I shouldn’t be too late, we’ll be coming home right after.” He explained shortly, you heard some people talking in the background. “I’ve gotta go, I’ll talk to you later.” He spoke softly, “good luck, babe.” You mumbled, those words being the best thing he’d heard all day. “Thank you.” And with that, you hung up the phone.

You showered the stress of your day away, slipping into the jersey and a pair of leggings, settling in on your couch, flipping to the channel for the game, indulging in a bowl of ice cream as it started. Your phone lit up, once again, except this time it was your mom, and not Tito, your breathing hitched, you waited until the last second to answer the call. “Hi, mom.” You whispered, her muffled sniffles telling you all you need to know. “I’m sorry.” You sighed, letting your own tears fall silently, “do you want me to come back to the city?” You asked her, having just made the exhausting trip back out here. “No, you need to rest, honey. I’ll call you in the morning with the details.” She sighed, your father talking to her in the background, “I love you.” She added, “I love you too mom.” You mumbled, hanging up the phone, looking up to the TV screen as the second period began, you curled further into the couch, watching the game, but not really watching as your mind wandered.

When the game finished, you were still wide awake, and you knew sleep wouldn’t be coming over you anytime soon. So you did what popped into your mind, you slipped on some fuzzy Christmas socks, and went and sat in front of Tito’s door, resting your head on your arms that held your knees tucked up under your chin. You knew it would still be an hour or so until he was home, but you didn’t care, you wanted–you needed to see him. But what you didn’t expect was that you’d end up getting hit with exhaustion as you sat leaning against the door, you buried your face in your arms, hair falling to the side.

When Tito stepped off the elevator, he had his eyes on his phone, concerned as you hadn’t answered his texts, then he looked over at his door, stopping in his tracks as he saw you asleep, a pout being pushed on your lips from how you were laying against your arms. He could tell you had been crying, he slipped his phone back into his pocket, taking a few large steps over to you, he unlocked his door before waking you up. He kneeled on the ground in front of you, running a hand through your hair. “Y/N?” He spoke softly, not wanting to scare you. “Baby.” He spoke again, gently placing a hand on your shoulder, you stirred, wincing as you lifted your head, a kink in your neck from sleeping like that. “Tito?” You croaked out, a fresh set of tears brimming, “hey, shh, what’s wrong?” He murmured, cupping your cheeks. “My grandma.” You sniffled, looking at him with wide eyes, his face fell. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, knowing now wasn’t the time to ask questions, if you wanted to talk about it, you would. “Can I come inside?” You mumbled, leaning into his hands as he wiped under your eyes, “of course you can.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before helping you to your feet. He pushed his door open, holding it in place for you to step inside, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to greet you like this.” You sighed, wiping at your eyes, he shook his head, pulling you in for a hug. “Don’t apologize, it’s alright.” He shushed you, running a hand over your hair, “did you want to stay here tonight?” He offered, “not like that, obviously, unless you want that–if you don’t want to be alone, I don’t know.” He stuttered over his words, you silenced him with a kiss, a hand going into his hair. “Please.” You whimpered, barely pulling away, “please what?” He breathed out, rubbing your back, “please, both.” You pulled him back in, allowing him to guide you to his bedroom.

When you woke up the next morning, you had to take a second to remember what exactly happened, but it all came rushing back when you heard Tito snore softly from behind you. His hand resting on your stomach, arm draped over your side, you didn’t regret what happened at all, but you still felt a little self conscious as you realized you only had on a shirt and underwear. You rolled to face him, smiling at the peaceful look on his face, you reached up to push his hair from his forehead, leaning in closer to him, feeling him squeeze you a little tighter at the action. “Good morning.” He whispered, voice raspy, the tips of his fingers slipping under the shirt to rub circles into your skin. “Good morning.” You repeated, sighing as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “how are you?” He murmured, keeping his eyes on yours, “better.” You answered truthfully, fluttering your eyes shut when nudged your nose with his, kissing you quickly. “I’ve got a question.” He announced, smiling when you hummed, resting your head on his chest as he rolled to his back, “the Islanders have a Christmas event coming up, and I wanted to know if you would go with me?” He sounded nervous, you pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, “of course I’ll go, but isn’t that kind of a big deal to bring me?” You whispered, picking at the sheet hanging over his hips. “I wouldn’t want to bring anyone else.” His words made your heart skip a beat, you sat up, looking at him with a grin. “I’ll need help picking something to wear.” You spoke, making his nerves melt away, “I think I can help with that.” He winked.

***

“Oh–wow, you look, wow.” Tito gasped as you opened your door, the dark emerald dress looking even better than he remembered, “it’s not too much, right?” You questioned, afraid you’d be to over dressed, but that should really be a concern, considering he was in a tuxedo. “No, baby, it’s perfect, you look phenomenal.” He pulled you in for a quick kiss, “thank you, handsome.” You whispered, lacing your hand with his, pulling your coat on, “can you believe Christmas is only a week away!” Tito gasped, watching as your face lit up, “I know, I’m excited!” You cheered, “but I’m nervous to meet your family.” You added, stepping into the elevator, he furrowed his brows, “don’t be nervous, they’ll love you.” He gave you a reassuring squeeze, “don’t add any more pressure, now I’ll be upset if they don’t love me.” You giggled, watching as his skin flushed under your gaze, he just gave you a subtle eye roll and a kiss to your hairline before guiding you to the taxi.

Walking into the event only made you feel further out of place. Tito quickly introduced you to some of the other girls so you at least had someone else to speak with, but you still stayed glued to his side for a while, uneasy about the setting. “Are you alright?” He whispered as you nursed the champagne flute you’d picked up right away, you shot him a smile, “yeah, I’m alright, I’ll go sit with the girls, you go do what you have to do, yeah?” You offered, he hesitated before he nodded, sending you off with a delicate kiss. You took your spot with the other ladies, quickly bonding with Sydney, your personalities meshing instantly. “How long have you known Tito?” She asked, resting her jaw in her hand, “six months?” You answered, doing the math mentally, “yeah, I met him the day I moved in, but we didn’t really start talking until thanksgiving.” You added, watching as she looked at you with wide eyes, “wait, really?” She gaped at you, making you concerned, “is something wrong?” You questioned, glancing behind her as her husband approached. “He’s been talking about you since before thanksgiving, I just assumed you two had been dating this whole time.” She explained, Matt raising his eyebrows from behind her, nodding in agreement. “Oh.” You shifted in your seat, feeling put on the spot, “that’s a good thing, I promise!” Sydney assured you, Matt resting a hand on her shoulder, startling her. “Yeah, he’s totally in love with you.” Matt shrugged, making you choke on your drink, he clearly hadn’t heard the length of your relationship, Sydney elbowed him lightly, whispering in his ear and he went wide eyed. “Oops?” His voice went up an octave, sitting down beside his wife. “I mean it’s fine, right? It’s not like he’s rushing you.” Matt tried to mend the situation but it only made you feel more pressure, like you had to feel the same way right now, and you knew you would in time, the relationship between the two of you building so quickly, it felt like you knew him for years. But knowing he was so seemingly in love with you already, made you nervous, like somehow you’d scare him off. “Excuse me.” You stood up abruptly, needing to get some space, “good going, Matt!” You heard Sydney chastise her husband as you walked off, in search of anywhere that wasn’t crowded with people.

You rounded the corner and spotted a relatively empty hallway, leaning against the wall you let out a deep breath, calming yourself, you stayed like that for a few minutes before deciding to go find Tito before he began to worry. When you walked back towards the table you saw him sitting beside your seat, he didn’t seem nervous at all, so you’re assuming Sydney covered for you. Another deep breath as you approached, putting a smile on your face when you reached them, “hi.” You smiled at your boyfriend, smoothing your dress as you sat down. “Hi, baby.” He rested a hand on your knee under the table, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. Sydney shot you a wink when he wasn’t looking and you let out a breath of relief, the rest of the night going off without a hitch.

***

“It is not funny!” You whined as you were helping Tito decorate his tree last minute, his exact words were “if I don’t have a tree for Christmas my mom just might kill me” you laughed at his dramatics, but you agreed to help, knowing it would be a good time together. “It is funny.” He retorted, helping you pick the garland flakes from your hair, he thought it would be entertaining to pull some off of the extra strands and throw it at you. It’s safe to say you weren’t amused. “I thought you’d like it, Christmas is your favorite holiday after all.” He teased, kissing your pout, laughing when you pulled him back in. “If you keep that up we’ll never finish this tree.” He mumbled against you, his hands sliding down your back. “Ah-ah, no, we have to finish, your parents are coming tomorrow.” You tsked, laughing when he gave you a quick pat anyways, “I didn’t say anything about after.” You reminded him, giving him an incentive to finish decorating. “Oh, it’s on.” He rushed over to what you had deemed his side of the tree, “whoever finishes last has to make dinner.” He smirked, and you just gave him a blank stare, “we both know if you lose you’re just going to order takeout.” You laughed at him, to which he nodded in agreement, pushing his glasses up his nose, smiling at you as you stood on your side of the tree. “Three, two, one!” You counted down, the tree was already lit and you’d already done the garland so now it was only placing ornaments, and you knew you’d beat him at it.

He was sloppily hanging them to fill the gaps in the tree, meanwhile you were taking your time–carefully placing each ornament, the prettiest sides out, and you still finished before him, he looked at you flabbergasted when you stepped back and announced your completion. “How are you? Oh my god.” He looked at your side of the tree, seeing the ornaments perfectly adorning your side of the tree. “How do you do that?” He pouted, pulling you over to his side to help, “I’m gonna go order Chinese.” He mumbled, kissing your cheek, sending you into a fit of giggles as you blended the two sides of the tree together. You heard him talking on the phone, rambling off some numbers from the menu, you giggled to yourself, thinking of how many times he’s called the restaurant. You took a moment, looking at the photo of Anthony and his brother as a child on an ornament, shocked by the amount of sentimental ones he had. You looked around the tree, taking the time now to admire it, your fingers running over the ornaments, you spotted one that was facing the wrong way, you took it off the tree and turned it to face you, gasping softly at the framed ornament of you and Tito from your first date, a picture you’d take in front of the Rockefeller tree before making your way back to your apartment. “That was supposed to be a surprise.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, “well then you shouldn't have put it on the tree when you know your girlfriend is a perfectionist.” You sighed, leaning into his hold, he hugged you a little tighter, “that’s one of the reasons I-“ his voice dropped off, you glanced back at him, carefully hanging the ornament back on the tree, he stayed frozen in place as you turned to face him.

“Babe, it’s one of the reasons you what?” You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “You can say it.” You added after he stayed silent, staring at you intently. “It’s one of the reasons I love you.” He all but breathed out, you tugged him in for a kiss, he sighed in relief, pulling you impossibly closer, “I love you, Anthony.” You mumbled, he rolled his eyes at the use of his name. “I love you, oh god I can finally say it.” He grinned, pulling you along with him to the couch, you laughed as he laid you down on it, “we’ve got food coming, bub.” You laughed, tilting your head to the side as he kissed down your neck. “It’s snowing, they’ll be slow, we’ve got time.” He muttered against you, smiling when you laughed at his words, but you made no effort to stop him.

Christmas Eve was here, and so were Tito’s parents, you could hear them the second you stepped out of your apartment, your stomach twisting into a knot. Your hand lifting to knock on the door, you could hear Tito chuckle from inside, “come in!” He called, exactly what you told him not to do. “Hello!” You spoke loudly into the apartment, pushing the door open, instantly met with Tito’s bright blue eyes looking over from the kitchen, his parents turning from their spot on the stools at the island. You smiled kindly at them, making your way over to them, “hi, I’m Y/N.” You held your hand out for his mother, who scoffed and stood, pulling you into a hug, relief rushing over you at her mind gesture. His dad did the same, “it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. We’ve heard so much about you.” He spoke softly, much like Tito would do sometimes. You walked around to greet your boyfriend quickly, also sticking the wine you brought into the chiller. “All good things, I hope.” You joked, earning a scoff from Tito as he checked on the food he was cooking. “Only good things.” His mom assured, smiling when her son kissed the side of your head in passing. You fell into easy conversation with them, all four of you laughing throughout the day, you were grateful to get this time with them today, considering tomorrow you would be an hour away visiting your own family. Of course, Tito was a little disappointed, but it was all still new to you guys, and you hadn’t had time to plan accordingly, but you swore up and down you’d go straight to his apartment when you got home Christmas night, the two of you saving your gifts for then.

“I’ll be right back!” Tito called to his parents, walking you across the hall, much to your laughter filled dismay. “Wow, look, I made it safely, all thanks to you.” You teased him, he let out a breathy laugh, leaning down to kiss you. “I love you.” He murmured, “Merry Christmas, baby.” He added, not wanting to let go of you. “Merry Christmas, bubs.” You grinned, “I love you too.” You added, giving him a few more short pecks, “I’ll see you tomorrow night.” You assured him, “and then you get to give me my gift.” You teased, finally getting a genuine smile out of him. “Mhm, can’t wait.” He gave you one more peck before forcing himself to go into his apartment, shooting you a wink as he shut the door. This boy would be the death of you.

***

You stepped off the elevator, arms full of the gifts you’d been given by your family earlier today, you were happily surprised to see Tito already standing outside your door. “Want some help?” He teased, taking a couple of items from you, “Merry Christmas.” You giggled, unlocking your door, “Merry Christmas.” He repeated, a grin covering his face as he walked in, your present from him being dragged along as well. You set down the items on your table before turning to your boyfriend, greedily kissing him, “if they asked me where you were one more time I would’ve gone insane.” You groaned, he laughed pulling away from you. “Sorry baby.” He murmured, kissing all over your face, laughing at your protests. “Can I give you your gift first?” You asked giddily, he nodded and set your present down on the coffee table as you told him to sit on the couch. He listened and smiled when you pulled the single box out from under the tree, running over to him like a little kid. You sat beside him, eyeing him as he shook the box, “just open it!” You whined, nudging his shoulder, he pulled your legs across his lap before tearing open the small box. You watched him raise an eyebrow as he popped it open, it was possibly a silly gift, but you figured with the amount of times he had to wear a suit for work, why not give him a little something. He grinned, looking at the cuff links, them being shaped as the number 14, your apartment number, “I love it.” Tito whispered, leaning over to kiss you, “thank you, baby.” He smiled, before handing you yours, it was quite large, but very thin, leaving you confused.

You eyed him, “I saw you looking at them…” he trailed off as you peeled the paper away, your hand shooting to your mouth. A framed poster of the stars, not from the night of thanksgiving, or even your first date, but from the day you moved in. “Tito.” You gasped, tracing over the date with your fingers. “Baby, this is so sweet, thank you so much.” You carefully set it down on the table, moving to straddle him. “I love it, I love you.” You smiled, his arms wrapping around your back, pulling you flush against him.

“I love you, Y/N. The first Christmas of many more to come.”

Taglist: @vinceduhn @vincecdunn @kempe @jackiesquinn @literarycharleton @wtfkie

#anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier #Anthony Beauvillier x reader #New York islanders #tito beauviller #tito beauvillier imagine #Tito Beauvillier fic #Anthony Beauvillier fic

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prideymcprideface · 4 years

Text

You’re Made to Obey (Dia x F!Mc) Part 1/2

warnings: very slight NSFW

Based loosely off the movie Ella Enchanted. There will be *some* kind of forceful interactions in this story, I will be trying my best to keep as much consent as I can, though.

Word Count: 1595

...

“(M/C)?” Lucifer knocks gently on your door, “I just received word from Diavolo that he will be coming over this evening. In specific, he has requested to speak with you.” You shoot the eldest brother a nervous glance, “No need to worry, (M/C), naturally, I will accompany you.”

“Why? Mammon and I already fini-” You are abruptly cut off by Lucifer’s short tut and sharp glare.

“I don’t know what he wants, but I do know you’ll be in my study at 6 exactly.” You huff in annoyance at his words. “Do you understand me, (M/C)”

You only nod your approval before turning back to your generous stack of homework in front of you.

...

You stretch out and stare at your ceiling, drowsy from just waking up. Slowly you sit up in your bed, rubbing sleep from your eyes. You glance at your clock to your left; 6:06 pm.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” You practically fly from your cocoon of blankets, stumble down the stairs, and sprint down the long hallway towards Lucifer’s study. The doors slam open as you burst through them. Hesitantly, you raise your eyes to meet two fiery red orbs of fury, you shrink under Lucifer’s excruciating stare.

“Nice of you to join us, (M/C).” Venom practically drips from the angry demon’s voice, but he keeps his composure, not wanting to upset Diavolo.

“Yeah, aha, I fell asleep...” You hear a low rumble beside you. Diavolo was laughing at you.

“Is that why it looks as though you fell from a plane?” Diavolo questions with a smile, patting down your hair and doing a quick once over of your disheveled school uniform.

Your feel your cheeks heat up and quickly raise your hands to smooth your bed head. That earns you a hearty laugh from him once more before he turns his attention to Lucifer.

“Do you mind if I talk with (M/C), privately, about what I discussed with you earlier?” Lucifer stilled for a moment at Diavolo’s question.

“Of course, my lord,” Lucifer forces a smile and gives you one last glance full of worry before exiting the room.

With the oldest brother now absent you nervously look toward the towering demon in front of you. His energy shifts ever so slightly, it was more authoritative then you’ve ever experienced but something about it draws you in. You unconsciously take a step toward him but he draws back and leans against the large oak desk behind him.

“How would you like you to spend a day with me.” The question sounds more like a command to you. You cock your head in confusion.

“I-”

“For professional reasons, of course.” He cuts you off. “Barbatos is quite busy planning an end of the year celebration and I could use the extra hand. And while you’re at it you can tell me how the exchange program is going - you seem to have gotten quite close to the brothers. It should be insightful.” Diavolo raises himself from the desk and takes slow steps towards you waiting for your response.

“I guess I don’t mind helping you out.” Your voice wavers as the demon leans down, mere centimetres from your face.

“Good girl.” His voice is just above a whisper. You watch silently, in shock as his broad form makes its way towards the entrance of the room, “Lucifer already knows to bring you by my palace bright and early.” You catch the glow in his eyes as he passes Lucifer on his way out, a silent reminder of his power over him.

Lucifer clears his throat, “Better get some dinner and head to bed early, you need to be well rested to properly serve Lord Diavolo.” He refuses to meet your eyes as he talks to you.

“Of course.” You slip past him without another word.

...

You had no idea when Diavolo said “bright and early” he meant Lucifer would be dragging you out of bed at 5 am and pushing you swiftly out the door, into a waiting car. You barely had time to brush your teeth let alone find a decent outfit. You glance down at your baggy sweatpants and t-shirt, inwardly sighing.

You sit next to Lucifer in harsh silence for most of the drive. You expected a thorough lecture about respect and responsibility, but he remained quiet and oddly tense. As you pull up to Diavolo’s palace you couldn’t help the question from slipping your mouth.

“What do you know about this that you aren’t telling me, Lucifer.”

“Just please, (M/C),” For the first time since last night Lucifer looks into your eyes, pleading with you, “Don’t let him get to you, I need you back - all of us need you back at the house of lamentation.” You had never seen Lucifer so vulnerable with you - it just fuels your dread of what was really to come.

He leans over you and pops the door. “It’s time.” He mutters. You step out of the car.

“Time to face the music, I suppose.” You say over your shoulder, feigning confidence, as you stroll away from Lucifer and towards the grand entrance of the looming structure in front of you. Just before you reach the doors they swing open, Barbatos is waiting behind them with a smile.

“Follow me to the kitchen if you would, (M/C)” Barbatos’ gentle voice does little to calm your nerves.

Once in the kitchen he holds a silver tray with odd colored eggs, what looked like toast, and a steaming mug, out to you.

“If you wouldn’t mind taking this to the Lord, he should be waking very soon. And, as I’m sure he informed you, I still have much to do before tomorrow.”

“Yeah... I actually thought that’s what I came to help with, the event?” You question, warily taking the tray.

“I’m sure Lord Diavolo will fill you in on your duties for today later. His room is just up the staircase the first double doors to the right, you can’t miss it.” And with that Barbatos hurries out of the kitchen.

Knock, knock... no answer.

“Diavolo!” You call through the thick wood of the doors, “I- um, I have some food from Barbatos!”

No answer.

Slowly you turn the doorknob into his room being careful not to spill any of the contents on the tray. You find a sight almost laughable waiting for you. The demon king sprawled across his lavish bed, blankets pulled past his head. You pause a moment to revel at the sight before you.

Setting the tray down on a table next to his bed you gently pull down the blankets to expose Diavolo’s face. As soon as the soft fabric passes over his mouth his bright yellow eyes snap open. A distasteful frown takes over his once peaceful features.

“And you’re waking me for?” Diavolo growls at you.

“Barbatos said to bring breakfast?”

“Did he say to wake me?” He sits from his bed holding your hand firmly in place on the covers - effectively keeping you from retreating,

“.....no.” You answer back, staring at his hand on yours.

“No.” Diavolo confirms your answer. He sits up, his covers slide down exposing his bare torso. You gulp, trying to convince your eyes to stay focused on his. He smirks, “Well it can’t be helped now, can it? Go prepare my shower for me while I eat.”

“You... want me to get your shower ready?” You ask with a subtle tone of disbelief.

“Yes, is there a reason you can’t do something so simple?” He asks between bites of eggs.

“You didn’t ask me to come here to just bring you food and turn on showers for you, did you.” Annoyance fills you, “I’m not a replacement for Barbatos, Diavolo. I didn’t come here to answer your beckon call. Sorry.” You make for the door.

“(M/C), stop.” Diavolo’s stern command fills the room. You find yourself unable to move any further toward the exit. You whip your head towards the demon king as he stands and makes his way towards you. “Barbatos is busy today and you will be filling his spot. I didn’t ask if that’s what you wanted to spend your day doing, I don’t remember ever asking for your opinion, and,” his eyes flash and in an instant your arms are stuck behind your back. Diavolo hoists you effortlessly over his shoulder, only putting you down once he has you in his bathroom. You are roughly tossed to the floor, the invisible power holding your body captive releasing you just in time for you to catch yourself.

Your fear at the lack of control fades to the back of your mind as Diavolo grasps your chin and crouches down next to you.

“If I ask for a shower, (M/C), I expect you to be more than willing to serve your Lord. So, prepare me a shower.” His eyes glow as he gives you the command. Without a thought, your body moves to start the shower.

“What are you doing, Diavolo?” You try to resist but whatever power is pushing you to comply is too strong. You’re filled with panic, having no control over your own limbs. When you look back Diavolo is leaned against the vanity, watching you with pure lust, your forced obedience giving rise to his desire. You can’t help feeling your own yearning spark seeing the tanned demon looking at you with such intensity.

“I’m showing you how to obey.”

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me lord diavolo

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satoruvt · 5 years

Text

the color of you - gray (1)

HI IT TOOK ME 3 HOURS TO WRITE THIS AND I KNOW THATS LONG BUT I’M SOSOSOSO PROUD OF THIS AND THE ENTIRE SERIES SO PLEASE LIKE IT!!!!

pairing → hawks (keigo takami) x bakery owner!reader

word count → 1608

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him... right?

song inspo → poser by grace vanderwaal and the lights cover of hold on we’re going home by drake!!

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

It’s been a rough day already.

You’re late, your pants are still damp even after throwing them in the dryer twice, and there wasn’t even enough cereal for you to have a decent breakfast. The sky is clouded over in gray and normally you like the rain but given that you have to walk to work and because you’re late and your pants are damp and you’re hungry you didn’t even think about getting an umbrella and it’s too late now to go back. Your pace is fast, but you’re not sure you can outrun the darkening clouds.

You reach into your pocket in hopes to at least pass the commute with some music, but all you find is your phone. You remember picking them up as you walked out the door, where the hell are they? You run a hand over both of your back pockets to feel for wires but there’s nothing - could they be in your jacket pocket? They’ve gotta be -

Your train of thought is interrupted when you collide with something head-on.

Dull pain blooms in your nose as it squishes against something - warm, you note - and you feel your body start to lose balance, but a pair of hands steadies you. The realization that you ran into another person hits you and you back up, putting as much distance between you and the person as you can.

“God, wow, I’m so sorry,” you start, but the gloves look familiar. You look up at the person and blink once, twice. “Oh. You’re Hawks.”

You’re fucking mortified.

Hawks offers you an amused smile, taking his hands away from you. “Yeah,” is all he says, and your brain will not shut up, because of course you had to literally run into the Number Two hero on a day that’s already heading downhill. It doesn’t help that you consider yourself a fan, either - nervousness pits in your stomach at the fact.

“Hey, you okay?” Hawks asks, putting a hand on your shoulder. You snap back into reality and nod, vigorous.

“Yeah, um -” oh, you sound stupid, “sorry. You’ve got enough on your plate as a hero, I bet you don’t need random people bumping into you everywhere.”

He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “Worse has happened.”

“Yeah?”

You’re expecting some villain horror-story, since you’re sure he has plenty of those. “Yeah. You know how many times KFC’s gotten my order wrong?”

You laugh and it’s genuine, not the unfortunate-small-talk laugh. “Sounds a bit like cannibalism,” you tease, motioning to his wings, and Hawks scoffs playfully.

“You seemed rushed earlier, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

His tone is sarcastic, lighthearted, but he’s right. You nod once, walking past him in a few steps. You turn around, facing him again as you walk backwards.

“See you on TV, hero!”

He turns to wave back at you, smirk on his lips. By the time you get to your bakery you’re twenty minutes late, but you figure you don’t really mind since your mood is better than before. When the rain falls, well after you’ve gotten to work, the sounds of it pattering against the concrete help you dream in monochrome between batches of cookies and cakes.

You sigh when you close the door to your apartment, letting all of your things drop to the floor. You don’t bother to pick them up - minus your phone - as you trudge to your room. Low daylight seeps in through the window, coating your room in pale light.

It doesn’t take long for you to change out of your outfit and into a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable hoodie, and after you do you flop onto your bed with a gentle thump. You turn on your phone, scrolling through social media, letting yourself enjoy a relaxing comedown from a busy day.

You show up on your own timeline on Twitter, and it first you brush it off as something you posted, but then you realize that you definitely didn’t take those pictures.

It’s you, this morning, standing outside with Hawks. The pictures look like they’re taken from across the street, but it’s definitely you. The first one is of Hawks holding onto you after you bumped into each other, and the next few are of each of you laughing and why the hell is this on Twitter? Who took these?

The account that posted them is just an update account, you find - the caption reads “Hawks and an unknown woman in Tokyo today!”; unbiased, simple. The comments are mean, though, a bunch of angry fangirls screaming about how you’re probably a slut and a total bitch. It doesn’t bother you - there’s nothing between you and Hawks to be jeopardized by fifteen-year-olds - so you place a short, direct comment among them: “that’s me lol.”

Within a short time - fifteen minutes while you leave your phone to make yourself a simple dinner - your notifications are blowing up, likes and replies showing up everywhere. The situation itself is minor, it doesn’t affect you, so you simply turn on do not disturb as you shove a forkful of food into your mouth.

That should do it.

The next day is basic - few customers, few employees, it’s no different than any other day. You’re in the kitchen most of the day, making donuts and bread and anything else that a bakery needs. It’s not until closing, when one of your employees tells you they’ve finished cleaning up and they’re about to leave, that you really step outside of the kitchen and into the front of house for more than a few minutes.

You’re throwing away the items in the display window when you hear the bell by the door ring.

You turn to tell whoever’s come in that you’re closed now - though it might be your fault since you forgot to switch the sign over from open to closed - but when you turn around you’re speechless for a moment.

“I didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” you manage to get out to Hawks. “Much less when I’m perfectly fine and not being terrorized by a villain.”

Hawks chuckles, and you notice another man beside him. He introduces him as his publicist, and you nod, but you can’t help from furrowing your eyebrows because why are the two of them here?

You’re at least ninety percent sure you didn’t ask that out loud, but Hawks’ publicist answers your question without any prompt.

“I’d like you and Hawks to establish a fake relationship.”

The bakery is eerily silent as you try to process what’s just been said, and you blink a few times before licking your lips and speaking. “I’m sorry, um - what?”

You cast a gaze towards Hawks and he sends you a sympathetic look, shrugging as he stands behind his publicist. I can’t help you, his eyes say, and what the hell is going on?

“I really don’t think I’m the right person for this -” you start to say, voice quick, but the publicist cuts you off quickly.

“I disagree, I think you’re the perfect candidate.”

Hawks steps into the conversation as he hoists himself up onto a table, not bothering to sit on one of the chairs. “It’d be easier,” he says, “there are already a bunch of pictures of us all over social media. I know you’ve seen ‘em.”

Ah, right, your brain says. “And you’re okay with this?”

Hawks smiles, unashamed, and you know firsthand now why everyone says he never takes things seriously enough. “Public image is the most important asset a hero can have.”

They’ve got a point about you being a good candidate, and you can’t deny that. The pictures are already on the internet, everyone already knows who you are by now, and it’d be a shock for someone else to suddenly come into the picture after rumors are already floating around. And Hawks is right about public image - whether you’re aiming for the top spot or not, you have to rely on the population to support you.

“If it makes any difference,” the publicist starts, “the publicity would help your business. You started it on your own, right?”

How the hell is he getting this information?

“Yeah,” you say, and you mean to say something more, but nothing else comes out of your mouth. He’s right, you realize, and then, and I need the publicity. Running your own business is no easy feat, and with how little customers you have… “Can I - can I have some time to think about it?”

The publicist hands you a business card with a prompt “please let me know your decision by tonight” before walking out of your bakery like nothing happened. You look at the card, flip it between your fingers gingerly. Hawks gets up from the table.

“If you don’t feel comfortable with it, I won’t make you do anything,” he says. “But this could help both of us, so I hope you do think about it.”

You nod at him, muttering a “yeah, I will,” before he too walks out of the bakery. The room is silent again, and you put the card in your back pocket as you finish cleaning out the display case. The walk home is quiet, calm, and it’s not until you get there, sitting on the couch, that you look at the card again.

You stare at the number on it, flipping and bending it through your fingers. He said to call him by the end of the night, you still have a few hours before you really have to decide…

You reach into your pocket and pull out your phone to dial the number.

#HAHAHA #IM SO EXCITED!! SO EXCITED!!!#bnha x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia imagine #my hero academia imagine #hawks x reader #bnha hawks x reader #hawks bnha x reader #keigo takami x reader #takami keigo x reader #x reader #reader insert #imagine

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doodlegirl12345 · 3 years

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“A Lesson In Tightropes” {1/5}

Hello everybody, this my first post on Tumblr. I written this story prior the release of Miraculous Ladybug season 4. A lot of things in this won’t match up to the current season. So think about it in a way of an AU story.

Read A Full Version Of Part 1 of “A Lesson In Tightropes” on Wattpad

Part 1 : Balance

Balance.

Another important skill needed in this never ending circus that we call life. As that’s what it can be seen as a complex balancing act. From the moment that we learn to move or stand we are supposed to follow a straight line without a certain end. As time starts to build up things are shove into our hands to juggle from small things such cleaning your room, washing behind your ears and finishing the vegetables on your plate. To the attempts of finishing ten page papers for university, keeping your light bill paid, and scrimping enough money for this month’s rent. The round shiny pennies that you have been juggling had turned into round shiny porcelain plates. More fragile and easier to break while trying to walk the straight line of a tightrope. The crowd that’s watching is ready to boo at you for any misstep and misdeed that is done, like the entertainment that you are. While the crowd that is supporting you and your accomplishments seem small like they can barely make a sound, even when it becomes too much and you fall without a safety net.

Up above the colors of orange and yellow painted Paris’ sky as the sun rose one early spring Friday morning. Sunlight quickly took its reign warming the frosty air from the previous night. The few people that were already out during this early morning minding their business as most were returning home from a grueling night shift or leaving for the long early shift that the day would give them. But right above them was the city’s beloved heroine Ladybug swinging through the sky with her trusty yoyo. The bug tossed the yoyo to latch onto the rooftops ahead to prolong the cycle of rush and relief of her body being pushed through the sky by her own hands.

As she had only one solid thought on her mind: home.

The few people who would look above and see the heroine had a few names that come to mind: hero, protector, role model, icon and savior. With all the things that Hawkmoth had thrown at her she seemed unstoppable. However, those were the people who easily let themselves get lost in the sparkle. They couldn’t see or wanted to notice the sway back in the bug’s posture, the misshapen form as she swung or the hesitation between each jump as she hanged onto the yoyo’s wire for dear life.

As underneath the surface level, it was clear that the spirit of exhaustion had been clinging onto her.

Nevertheless, Ladybug couldn’t stop moving as she sprung forward from the rooftop of Collège Françoise DuPont to the balcony of the nearby bakery. Nearly missing her footing on the balcony’s railing, the bug then jumped forward into the balcony’s opened trap door landing onto her bed that was underneath the opening. She landed flat on her back letting the cushiony padding of the mattress break her fall.

“Tikki,” the heroine said groggily. “Spots off.”

Magical red dust surrounded her body peeling off her costume and reverting her back into her civilian clothes. Tikki landed on the bed’s pillow, eyes already shut the kwami letting out a small yawn. While Marinette’s eyelids felt heavy, she felt herself slipping into a deep slumber needed to recover from last night and all of the previous nights before. Ever since she had returned home from her trip from New York. There have been back to back akumas and sentimonsters that Ladybug and Chat Noir had to deal with for the past three weeks. All of them appeared during the dead of night. It was like this Hawkmoth’s revenge for them not letting him plunge the world into another world war.

It was akuma alert notification, the most recent of many.

She suited up like usual, leaving her home after midnight hoping that this wouldn’t take long as she still was exhausted from the previous night. But those hopes were for nothing as the villain Creature Feature took hours to defeat, leaving both her and Chat Noir dragging themselves home, exhausted. Marinette turned over, eyes now shut as the mattress cushioned her aching body as she tried to reach dreamland. However, as she started to drift, a loud beeping startled the new guardian causing her eyes to fly wide open and herself to raise up. Marinette looked ahead to see at the foot of her bed was her phone ringing. She reached forward grabbing her phone as her alarm for school was going off.

But it couldn’t be time not yet as between last night and the night before she barely had gotten four hours of sleep! The guardian shut off her alarm and stubbornly threw herself underneath her covers. It can’t be time for school. That wasn’t fair as she didn’t want to go. Maybe today could be her sick day, better yet a mental health day.

It was the minimum of what she deserved.

But she heard a knock at her bedroom door, the guardian’s body didn’t even budge.

There was more knocking on the door, her mother’s voice came through the door calling out to her. “Marinette, sweetie it’s time to wake up. You don’t want to be late for school again. This will be the fifth time this week that you have been hard to get up!”

Marinette just let out a loud groan, taking her pillow on her head and bending it to cover her ears like this was going to be one of the worst days of her life.

An hour passed as the guardian dragged herself out of the door of the bakery with her purse and backpack. Instead of her usual outfit she was wearing a black tank top underneath a soft pink cotton top with short cutout sleeves, black sweatpants, and pink converse sneakers. She had dark sunken in circles underneath her eyes. A few minutes after not responding Marinette’s mother came into her room after Tikki hid trying to coax the young guardian out of bed. It got to the point it was easier for Marinette to force herself out of bed than trying and failing to get some sleep in the midst of that. In addition, her typical arsenal of excuses failed her, each one that she could think of Sabine counteracted with the statement of hearing it all before.

So Marinette got up and got ready just figuring the best thing to do is suck it up for another day. That was the notion that she had in her mind as she crossed the street to school. As outside in front of the steps students stood in their own groups chatting away with each other before class started. Marinette spotted Alya leaning against the wall of the school steps on her phone.

“Hey,” Marinette yawned as she approached her friend.

“Hey girl,” Alya said looking up from her phone. “You’re actually on time today.”

“You can thank my mom,” Marinette faintly smiled. “She wouldn’t let me be nearly late five days in a row.”

“Good mom, but hey are you okay?” Alya raised a brow.

“Yes, I’m a little bit tired,” the guardian nodded her head. “No big deal.”

“Well you’re not the only one,” her best friend gestured her head to the right. “It seems that your “friend” haven’t gotten much sleep either.”

Marinette turned her head in the same direction as she saw Adrien and Nino a few feet away. Adrien looked similar to her, a glazed look with deep dark circles underneath his eyes.

“Dude, you okay?” Nino asked him. “You look wiped.”

“Huh?” Adrien asked, almost like he was spacing out. “Yeah I just had a long fencing practice last night to get ready for our tournament in the next few weeks. Then I stayed up late doing homework.”

“So you sure you are fine?” Alya asked, bringing the attention back to her. “These couple weeks, you have appeared more exhausted every time I seen you.”

“I’m just a little jag lag from our trip.”

“The trip that we came back from three weeks ago? Nice try, M, that’s not going to work this time.”

“Um...well...it’s true.”

“Okay maybe I’m sounding a little pushy but I’m just a little worried about you.”

“That’s sweet but there’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not just me but other people. Alix texted me asking if you were coming to the Louvre this weekend to check out the “Fashion Through The Ages” exhibit like you said you were, considering that you cancelled going ice skating last with us last weekend.”

“Really? Why did she not text me?”

“Maybe because it’s been a little hard to reach you lately? You really haven’t been picking up or replying to our texts. So she just figured what was the point?”

Marinette bit her lip as she remembered last weekend she had come home from defeating the villain Archaic around seven in the morning after she got an akuma alert two in the morning. She was utterly exhausted and knew no way that could make it to the ice rink around eleven so she just texted the girls that she couldn’t go and went to bed. Practically for these past couple weeks beside school it’s been a trade off her sleeping and being Ladybug.

“So what?” Marinette’s eyes shifted to the side.

“So what? I’m worried about you ever since we got back from New York. You’ve been saying that either you’re busy or that you’re going to just go home to sleep. But you are still looking exhausted. Is there something going on? It’s starting to look like you have a double life or something.”

“Double life?!” Marinette exclaimed. “No way, I’m too boring to have a double life. I’m so dull that flies don’t even land on me! Boring is my middle name Marinette “Boring” Dupain-Cheng!”

“Well Miss Boring then what’s keeping you up at night?” Alya folded her arms, as if she wasn’t going to accept anymore deflection.

Marinette was at a loss for words as the truth feeling poison in her throat that if spilled as it would come up like acid. That she would die either way in this public setting. Unless she did her least favorite habit.

Lying.

“Okay okay you got me,” the guardian gave her friend a tight smile. “You’re so good, Miss Reporter.”

“Huh?” her friend looked confused.

“I’ve been working hard on a very special project...for you and the girls,” she wrapped an arm around Alya’s shoulders.

“Really?”

“Yep, I have been doing this project for weeks...that’s why I have been busy and tired. It’s all for you girls.”

Alya just looked at her with a stern face.

Marinette bit her lip as she thought. Is she buying this? No way that she’s buying this, she knows me way too well.

Her friend just shook her head. “That’s really sweet but leave it up to you to do something nice that is causing your own detriment.”

“Well you know me...I’m a giver. So everybody can stop worrying, it’s all over now.”

“Alright,” the inspiring reporter sounded skeptical. “Then I guess we can come over and you can show us the surprise tomorrow.”

“What?” the guardian looked confused.

“You said it was over, that means you’re done right?”

“Right... I guess that’s what it means, right...”

“Cool, then the rest of the girls and I can come to your place tomorrow before you go to the museum. Since Nora and I gotta take the twins to the circus tonight.”

“Circus?” she asked her as if it’s the first she heard of this.

“Yeah, I told you on Tuesday that Ella won four tickets for Andrea’s Traveling Circus that is going to be in town this weekend. As she won the award for most improved student in her class. Nora and I were going to take them since my mom and dad are going out to celebrate their wedding anniversary, remember?”

“Oh yeah.”

A string of electronic chimes came from the school causing the students to wrap up their conversations as they started to make their way up the steps.

“Ugh, the warning bell, we got five minutes until class starts,” Alya started to walk toward the steps. “Let’s go, the last thing that we need is Ms. Bustier marking us late.”

“Right,” Marinette yawned while following her up the steps feeling this was going to be a long day.

With that Marinette entered the school and dragged herself through a typical school day with an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion. To her it felt like the day trudged on even during lunch while Alya told the girls about the surprise, the one that the guardian had came up on the spot. So imagine her relief when she reached her last class of the day: Early World History. Her sleepy eyes were glued to Ms. Bustier as she was in the middle of her lesson about the industrial revolution. As the teacher lectured the guardian tried to keep her eyes open, keeping her mind and hands busy by taking notes on her school issued tablet.

But it was hard to keep her head up.

She looked at the clock as it read 1:05 pm. There was only fifty five minutes left of the school day, fifty five long excruciating minutes. While her head felt like it weighed like a ton of bricks that went through a centrifuge.

Come on Marinette you just got less than an hour left, you can do this. She thought.

However, her eyelids were getting heavier. She rubbed them a bit letting out another yawn. Before she knew it she could hear the ringing of the school bell causing her bolt right back up in her seat with a loud gasp realizing that she had been laying her head on her desk. Marinette’s eyes darted around the classroom to see that all her classmates were staring at her with confused expressions on their faces. Suddenly her face turned a shade of beet red.

“Okay class that is enough for today we will finish up our lesson on Monday,” Ms. Bustier said, her stern eyes right on Marinette. “For homework please read chapters eighteen and nineteen over the weekend.”

After that instruction the class packed up for the day and started to leave for dismissal while Ms. Bustier turned to the classroom’s chalkboard starting to erase the board’s chalk writings.

“D-did I fall asleep?” Marinette turned to Alya.

“Yeah halfway through class,” Alya replied.

“Halfway through class? Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I tried nudging you but you wouldn’t budge. It was like trying to move a brick house.”

“I was that out of it?”

“Yeah you literally were snoring during class,” Nino chimed in.

Marinette’s face became a deeper shade of red. “I don’t snore.”

“Trust me you do,” said a familiar voice.

Marinette looked away from Nino to see Chloè standing in front of their desks, arms folded with a little smug smile on her face.

“Seriously Dupain-Cheng who knew someone like you snored just like a pig,” the mayor’s daughter laughed. “I guess the whole class knows now.”

“At least I don’t sound like a strangled cat when I talk, like you do!” Marinette snapped at her.

Chloè’s blue eyes narrowed in shock as if she was surprised that kind of comment had been made.

“Marinette, can you please stay after class as I would like to talk to you,” Ms. Bustier said, still erasing the board.

Paris’ newest guardian’s eyes suddenly become big as saucers. While Chloè’s smug smile returned as she left the classroom.

Marinette buried her head in her hands. “I don’t believe this.”

“Do you want me to stay for you?” Adrien asked her.

Marinette moved her hands and looked back at the golden haired model. “Really?”

“Yeah it’s the least that I could do after you convinced my father to let me go to New York,” he said.

A tiny smile formed on her lips at that sentiment but then she looked at the dark circles underneath his eyes. He looked just exhausted as she did.

“Um no you don’t have to,” Marinette told him. “I mean...I appreciate it but I made bed now I need to lay in it.”

With that the group packed up the things and her friends left the classroom to carry out the rest of their day. Marinette walked down the steps with her backpack and purse to Ms.Bustier’s desk where the teacher was sitting looking through a stack of papers.

“Ms. Bustier, you said that you wanted to talk to me,” Marinette approached the desk, already feeling like she was on pins and needles.

“Yes Marinette as we have something to discuss,” said the teacher.

“About sleeping in class? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean too. I just didn’t get much sleep last night but I promise it will never happen again.”

“It is not exactly just that but also there is something else I would like to discuss.”

Ms. Bustier pulled out one of the sheets from the stack of papers that she was holding and placed it on the desk. It was a quiz paper with Marinette’s name written in the guardian’s own handwriting. The paper was covered with red ink markings and up top the final score was twenty five percent.

“This is your history quiz grade from the quiz that we took on Tuesday. I graded them all but didn’t have a chance to pass them out today like I planned,” Ms. Bustier told her. “But your grade is twenty five percent Marinette which is a F. Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Uh...I’m sorry.”

“This wasn’t a hard quiz either as the second lowest grade in the class was seventy two percent. Most of these questions were things we discussed in class and the others were from the textbook. Was you able to study?”

Marinette’s eyes shifted as she thought back to Monday night this week. She had taken a nap after coming home from school then started up her chemistry homework when her phone went off with an akuma alert. Steel Titan, a giant robot sentimonster was terrorizing downtown. By the time she got back she only had an hour before school that she used to finish her chemistry homework instead of studying.

“Just a little...I was busy,” she sheepishly told her teacher.

“With what?” Ms. Bustier’s eyes shifted from stern to concerned. “After falling asleep in class I’m worried about you Marinette. I have noticed that your grades have been slipping. So I would like to ask, is everything okay? Is there something going on at home?”

“What? Of course not, everything is fine.”

“Well about your personal life? Family, friends, relationships? If there is something you want to talk about I’m here to listen. It can be about anything.”

Marinette was unsure how to respond. What could tell her that she actually been Ladybug this whole time? That every time that she had been running late or had to excuse herself for a bathroom break she was saving the city. Along with Chat Noir she stopped Hawkmoth from plunging the world into another world war with two other heroes. That was now she was Paris’ only guardian of the miraculous because her mistakes caused the other one to give up his memories due to her getting so emotional over a guy she had recently given the friend label. That might have to suffer the same fate if she ever had to give up her title as guardian. That the thought of that actually terrifies her. She has been running herself so ragged that sometimes standing up is a chore.

Those are the things that she wanted to tell her but couldn’t.

“Nope, I just should have studied like I was supposed to,” Marinette told her. “Um, to be honest it’s my fault. I...stayed up late watching this show called Infinity Lights and I put off studying.”

“Infinity Lights? I love that show, how far are you?” Ms. Bustier stated.

“Uh,” Marinette started as she never saw a single episode of the show. The only reason she said it was because she saw a build board advertising the show when she swung home this morning. “Not far just the first season.”

“Ah so stakes haven’t really hiked up yet but what do you think about Miranda and Nick?”

“I like them. Miranda is my favorite.”

“Really? My favorite is Bridget. But is that the only thing going on?”

“Yes, I didn’t do well with organizing my priorities. So I’m in trouble?”

“Not exactly the grade that you earned on the quiz still stands; it is just a quiz grade so it shouldn’t impact your final grade significantly compared to a test. However, I would like you to promise me something.”

“A promise? What kind of promise?”

“I would like you to promise me that over this weekend you are going to get some rest. I expect you to come here Monday morning on time, well rested, homework done and ready to learn. If you can’t do it then I have no choice then call your parents and schedule a conference with your parents. To let them know about your grades and lack of sleep, do you understand?”

Marinette hanged her head. “Yes ma’am.”

After wrapping up things with Ms.Bustier, Marinette went home instantly going straight to her bedroom to get to work. As she had dug herself in a hole with her friends telling them about a great surprise that apparently took three weeks to do. She entered her room, dropping her purse and backpack on the floor to sit at her desk to think of something to make. Tikki flew out of her purse suggesting she get some sleep as she looked exhausted. But the guardian protested stating that she lied and now that she had to lie she must become an honest person by making the lie true. Tikki tried to convince her otherwise but Marinette was insistent. So here she was hours later still at her desk working in her sketchbook surrounded by wadded up balls of paper on her desk of rejected ideas. At first it was hats then phone cases then it was hand knitted scarfs. But either it was that she didn’t have enough time or materials.

It wasn’t until an hour ago that she settled on making homemade earrings as it looked enough that time was taken and she had the materials from a jewelry making kit that ironically Alya gave her for her birthday.

So there she was sketching as she had to make five original pairs of earrings all before tomorrow afternoon. However when trying to sketch Alya’s the first one on the list she couldn’t think of anything. It seemed the well of creativity that she usually tapped into had dried up.

Not to mention she was still tired.

“This is hopeless,” Marinette groaned.

Suddenly she heard a familiar beeping alert sound coming from her purse on the floor. The guardian’s heart was now filled with dread as she stood up from her seat being pulled to it by curiosity and obligation. She went into her purse and pulled out her phone to see the already lit screen. It had a notification that said:

AKUMA ALERT: SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY REPORTED BETWEEN THOMAS AVENUE AND DURAND AVENUE. PLEASE AVOID THIS AREA FOR THE TIME BEING. IF NEARBY GET TO SAFETY. ANOTHER NOTIFICATION WILL BE SENT ONCE THE AREA IS DEEMED SAFE. IF THERE’S A EMERGENCY PLEASE CALL EMERGENCY SERVICES.

Marinette looked at the notification as she knew where those streets were located deep downtown. It appeared that her alter ego was needed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the full version of part one, check it out on Wattpad. If you made it this far, thank you so much! I really appreciate it.

Also a little music to set the mood. Especially if you read the full Wattpad version.

Also here’s a link to the song on YouTube.

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erixyin · 4 years

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Idk where i saw this but i need to write my own

MLQC Boys React - MC wearing their shirt/tshirt as a dress in public.

Note: have been dating for a while, like 6 months?

A little NSFW but not too bad x

Victor:

You had stayed over at his for the weekend and now it was Sunday and you had run out of clean none-casual clothes. And you had forgotten to pack any with you or go shopping because you had been very distracted all weekend. By victor without a shirt on wahhhhhh

You rummaged through his closet quickly. Boi was already at work he had a 6am meeting. You dont know how he has the energy to do that. You would literally die if someone said you have to be out of bed before 6am

He looked at his long fancy shirts and you had an idea. You grabbed the one that felt the nicest and that was not the boring grey shirts he usually had. It was a purple silk shirt and it came down to about your knees. MC is so small.

Little did you know that that was literally one of the most expensive shirts he owned...

NOT IN THE CAPACITY TO KNOW FANCY BRAND NAMES OK

You sinched it in at the waist with a belt you had worn over the weekend and put on some gold earrings and necklace. You finished the look with black tights and your black doc martens, PRAYING that no one at work would mind that you looked more SMART CASUAL than SMART.

You thought u looked hella cute in the mirror so u went to work at 9am.

You had forgotten you had a meeting with Victor at 11am.

he did a double take when you walked into the room.

He squinted at your “dress” and you could tell he was going through his memory bank of where he had seen it before.

“Is that... new?” He asked eyeing you every so often before glancing back down to your weekly report

“Uh... yeah relatively. Do u like it?” You asked innocently batting your eyes.

“Where’s it from?” He passed you back your report, forgetting to give any negative comments unusually. He thought you looked hella cute but he totally wasn’t going to tell u that.

“I-I can’t remember.” You blushed hiding behind the report a little.

He stood up and leaned against the front of his desk, now towering above you casually. “I thought you had enough clothes, without needing to borrow mind”

Ok. Now you were bright red.

“D-d-do you not like it?” You stammered and then flashed him a cheeky smile, “i can take it off and give it you back”.

Victor’s hear stopped momentarily before going “Dummy” and patting you gently on the head.

You walked out of his office 2 hours later feeling on top of the world. that’s not the only thing you were on top of

Mr CEO was surprisingly in a good mood for the rest of the day and even gave Goldman a small smile. GOLDMAN IS FREAKING OUT.

Lucien:

It had been a last minute decision sleepover... totally innocent absolutely nothing happened what are you talking about.

Lucien had already left for a lecture he was giving at the university. You had promised to meet up with him once he had finished his schedule.

Now you totally COULD simply go back to your apartment and pick out something you’d worn a few times and Lucien had seen you in. OR you could actually conduct an experiment of your own and make Lucien hella blushy - even if boi went a little red it would be a triumph in himself. BOI HAS A BETTER POKER FACE THAN VICTOR HOW

Being a little bit devious you decided to raid Lucien’s closet. BOI LIKES TO BE STYLISH

He has everything coordinated by colour and by season/activity. Jumpers go in the bottom right next to the winter coats and shirts were hung up towards the left for those “casual days”.

Boi doesnt own a tshirt, he only knows smart casual and smart. Loungewear? Sweatpants?? Boi has never heard of em

Most of his clothes were black and white with a tad bit of grey and brown in there but you found at the very back of the wardrobe a white shirt with pink butterflies patterned over it. Masculinity is so fragile, let the man wear pink. He can OWN it.

You decided to go for it and match it with thigh high suede wedges to give yourself a little extra height. You sinched it in with a simple black studded belt and added nude tights. You put your hair up into a “cute messy” bun and popped a pencil in to keep it in place. You paired it with a little black satchel and “natural” makeup with maybe a red lip tint? Lucien likes a red lip and you can’t tell me otherwise

It was about 2pm and you decided to head over to the university. A little spring in your step.

You knew his schedule by now so you knew he’d be in his office round about now. You checked the times 2:30pm. Half an hour before his next and final lecture.

You entered his office, you didnt need to knock anymore. He knew it was you. Students would always giggle LOUDLY outside his office before knocking. Mainly female students and you PRETENDED not to notice.

He could totally tell you noticed and were trying to hide it

You saw him tapping away on his computer, eyes lost in data.

You plopped your bag over the sofa and walked over to his desk. Kinda annoyed he hadn’t noticed you but also kinda excited because of the build up?

He had a light smile on his face, “Hello MC, i was expecting you a little lat-“ he glanced at your outfit. Boi actually halted his sentence. You were delighted.

You saw the tips of his ears turn pink. successs

he gulped and brought a hand up to his face as his eyes looked at your outfit in detail before looking you directly in the eye, a michevious look on his face, “i haven’t seen that shirt in a very long time. Have to say, it looks better on you”. He watched as you leant over the desk resting on your elbows.

“I think the thigh highs are a nice bonus” he said making it very obvious at where he was looking.

“What time is your next lecture again Luci?” You asked sweetly, leaning over to boop his nose gently.

“Actually my last lecture had to cancel due to some strange unforeseen circumstances”, he said typing the email as he spoke.

“Isn’t that lucky?” He chuckled while glancing at the office door

You gave him a brief kiss on the cheek, “very lucky”

He didn’t make it to the 3pm lecture

Gavin:

He had left some of his clothes at yours before heading out on a mission. He’d been gone for a few days but he had called and said he would be home soon. Weekends were usually spent with you waiting for gavin. He had promised he would stop going on big missions now he had something to come home to.

You kinda got bored waiting for him, because he said he’d be home today. You had told Eli that if he came back with a new bandage you were going to kill him and make him sit in a salt bath. Eli knew you weren’t joking.

You decided to pull out one of the many tshirts he had left at yours. It was an old rock n roll band tshirt. You didn’t know them too well but Gavin had liked to listen to their music every now and then. He didn’t wear it that often anymore, it was a bit too tight on him since he had bought it in his college days.

You had washed it already because you sometimes slept in it. You had been binge watching DIY youtube videos all day when you had a great idea. You really liked the look of the cut out ladder look the girl had done in her youtube video so you decided to do the same. You grabbed a pair of scissors and got to work.

You also decided to give the thsirt a little bit of a v-neck but leaving a piece around the neck for that fake choker look. You looked at your handy work and decided you really quite liked it. The back wasn’t too exposed because of the laddered look but you could always wear something underneath like a mesh top.

It came down to just lower than your thigh. You looked at yourself in the mirror. Considering it was the only piece of clothing you had on right now besides your little running shorts, you thought you looked really cute.

You spun around happy when you saw gavin staring at you COMPLETELY RED outside the window.

“Gavin!” You squealed excitedly as you went to open the window and let him in.

The wind blew underneath your dress/tshirt a little to lift it. You quickly pulled it back down.

Bird cop has stopped working

“You look...” Gavin stood in front of you staring at you. You could see there was a new scar on his neck and arm but no bleeding on any of his clothes.

“I’m so glad you’re home!” You wrapped your arms around him, breathing in his scent

He hugged you bag but went even more red - is that even possible??? - when he felt that the back was laddered and an entrance to your bare back.

“Um you look... very cute” he was now imaging you wearing all of his clothes. Boi was beetroot red someone help him.

“I could pair this with some denim shorts and it would be a date night outfit yeah?” You said taking a step back and spinning round for him

MC why u wanna make this precious boi jealous?? XD

He pulled you in for a quick kiss, “no this is just for me. You’re mine. No one else can see you looking this...” he paused as his ears started to go red again, “good”

Safe to say you didnt kill him for discovering he had several bruises across his back. BUT MC U SAID NO BANDAGES OR BLEEDING SO TECHNICALLY ITS FINE

Kiro:

You had woken up super late - like 11am - after gaming and doing other stuff.... all night. Your body still kinda hurt and ached a little... clearly from doing all of that just dance marathon stuff. If you think kiro isn’t a just dance kinda man i will fight you

The bed was more spacious than normal and you didn’t have a cute blonde cuddling up next to you. Odd. You looked over towards the bathroom but the light was off.

God what day was it? You reached over sluggishly to the bedside table and looked at your phone. It was Wednesday but thankfully you were having a week off after finishing a big project with Kiro’s help.

You had worked the hardest with the late nights and the weekends you had sacrificed. Anna and Kiki thought it was best for you to have a little holiday.

You stretched and sat up. You looked around. Kiro’s jeans were gone and phone. Maybe he had gone to the shops?

You honestly couldnt remember if had anything in his schedule today. Even though he was taking a mini holiday himself - you both timed it perfectly - he still had to do interviews here and there to make Savin happy.

You rubbed your eyes. You didn’t remember where you’re clothes from last night were but they were in NO state to wear. Clearly because of all the sweat from just dance AND NOTHING ELSE ;)

You opened Kiro’s walk in wardrobe. You lazily looked for something to just wear so that you could walk round the house, comfortable but not just nude. Kiro’s house was big and Savin had a key

You picked up a signature yellow and white tshirt that Kiro often wore to events and fan signings. It matched his hoodie but it was perfect for the warmer weather.

Boi was only a few inches taller than you so it JUST came to below your butt. You’d have to bend from the knees and not the waist. Unless you want your butt to be on show.

You found some black unused underwear and popped them on. You debated onto weather you could be bothered putting socks on or not. Then you remembered that Kiro had central floor heating so nahhhhhh

You wandered round the house looking for Kiro. Your bare feet making a gentle thudding noise across the marble floor.

You gave up home when you couldnt find him in the games room or living room so you decided to go get yourself a snack.

You walked in and froze as you saw Kiro. In front of a camera. A LIVE camera. And Savin sat just out of frame.

You just remembered that wednesday afternoons were the weekly Kiro livestreams.

KILL ME

Boi instantly caught your eye and then looked at what you were wearing - barely anything

Whatever he was saying before he was silent. Boi was SHOOKETH. He COUGHED LOUDLY and went a bright scarlet red from his neck to his face.

The livestream chat was going mental as they couldnt see you from the camera angle positioned on Kiro’s face. They were wondering what he was getting so worked up about. It was a really good job that the camera could only see from the waist up

“H-hey guys, sorry I’m gonna have to cut the livestream short.” Savin had his head in his hands, “I’m just not..” he stole another glance at you while you were trying to reach the top of the shelf where the cookies were and his tshirt lifted up higher exposing more. “I’m just not feeling too good.” He chuckled bashfully as he rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed.

The chat soon filled up with #get better soon kiro as well as #curiouskiro was trending. Some people speculated that Kiro might have a lover. The fan theories went mental.

“I’ll see you guys next week bye!” And the livestream ended. You blushed as you saw Kiro’s gaze and you crunched on your cookies while looking at the floor.

Savin got up to go and leave and sort things out for Kiro online, to make ensure his reputation wasn’t going to fall because of this unexpected situation.

“Thats my tshirt!” He said as he came over to you still red

“Yeah... and?” You mumbled a mouth full of cookies. Thats not the only thing your mouth’s gonna be full of in a minute miss chips - I’m sorry please forgive me i had to XD

“Miss chips is not allowed to look that good” he whined, “i was doing an interview, i was gonna be back in like half an hour and you looked so peaceful-“

You pressed a finger to his lips to shush him, “well we can still go back to bed now...”

SAY. NO. MORE

Boi picked u up and carried you upstairs, bridal style.

A week later you made your relationship public. At first the fans were a little upset but then soon adored you when you revealed a little of why Kiro was so blushy the previous Wednesday. #blushyboikiro was trending for a MONTH

BONUS: Shaw:

He had to rush off to his exam in the morning after promising to meet up afterwards for breakfast/lunch

This was at 8am. [bitch you aint getting out of bed at 8am on a day off? Beauty sleep is very important]

His exam was three hours long [the pain of uni exams, i get you Shaw i get you] and you woke up at 11:39

SHIT

You scrambled for your things but the night before outfit was not really brunch appropriate so you settled for something a lil more casual [and devious]

You grabbed one of his favourite tshirts which fell down to your mid thigh, and cut a slit at the bottom and safety pinned it together [ya know for that EDGY look] [i dont know what the kids are up to these days but i saw my friend do it and she’s cool so]

You grabbed ur cropped zip hoodie, put on some thigh high stockings, put on ur black boot heels from last night and you were ready to go. [you also sprayed some perfume on ur neck, wrist and garter while u were at it. LOOK SIS YOU DEVIOUS AND U KNOW THAT SHAW LIKES IT]

You rushed out the door and thankfully the subway wasnt busy and you got there just as the doors opened and the students came plodding out. You stood there with a coffee in your hand and the other one twiddling your hair in an OH so cute way. [you know how to look cute mmkay]

Several students walked out through the doors but you didnt end up seeing him. Darn you for being so short.

So you sat down on the low wall near the university’s fountain. Your little safety pin glistening in the sun and the tshirt putting your garter on show. [we like that casual but i secretly put in loads of effort kinda vibe]

You started scrolling through Moments incase he got out early but the shitty university wifi meant that it wasn’t refreshing. Furthermore the sun was shining in ur eyes so you couldnt really see much even when your phone was on full brightness

Then a tall shadow blocked the sun and you looked up and saw Shaw stood over you with a sleepy but piercing gaze.

“What are you doing wearing my Black Sabbath Tshirt?” He looked you up and down. Boi was clearly shook but he was damned if he was going to let you know this. Even though you already knew this.

“What you don’t like it? How did your exam go?” You said getting up to give him a quick hug. You knew Shaw had expressed he wasn’t a fan of physical affection but he secretly enjoyed the odd hug/hand holding or head scratch from you. Though he would never share this

“You really think you can distract me from your lazy sense of style?” He raised his eyebrows and looked you up and down again. You could see the twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“Your rebelliousness has rubbed off onto me” [in more ways than one] you gave him a little spin raising your arms a little so that the top of the stockings and garter would come on show.

You could see that his nose went a little red along with the tips of cheeks. He coughed and placed both hands on ur arms firmly. “Let’s go get something to eat.” He swung you around so that you were now walking back to the subway, with his arm round you.

“But this is the way home...?” You started as you turned to look at his face, still walking

“Well we’re skipping straight to dessert” you could see the glint in his eyes and you allowed yourself to be lead.

Now that thsirt was his absolute favourite, especially whenever you decided to surprise him with it after an exam x

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dc41896 · 5 years

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First Impressions

Since a certain rude giant wants to attack us lol, this is a quick idea I had that’s also paired with a prompt request from @lovelymari4. I did change some things around with the prompt so hopefully that’s ok and that you guys like it😄!

Pairing: Florian Munteanu x Black Reader

Prompt: Florian makes the reader feel some type of way with the choice words he has about her favorite artist

⚠️: None💕!

Watching the metal doors of the elevator slide open, you let out an exasperated breath you’d been holding in since leaving labs. Being in classes since 10 this morning, saying you were happy to be home was an understatement. You couldn’t wait to soak in your tub with your favorite bath bombs and light candles all around as part of your new mini self care routine you recently adopted so you could de-stress.

That is if you could get through the door.

Finally reaching your apartment, you find multiple boxes labeled with various household items blocking the entrance while your neighbor’s door in front of you was wide open. Music not blaring, but at a loud enough volume you could hear a few feet down the hall, you use the knocker below the peephole hopefully banging loud enough they could hear you.

“Um hello?! Scuse me, but I’m trying to figure out who’s stuff is in front of my door?!”

Appearing from around the corner in only his cotton shorts and socks stood who you assumed to be your new neighbor.

Your freakishly good looking and fit neighbor.

Shouting at someone in the room he just left in a language you couldn’t immediately catch, he makes his way towards you taking his shirt from the couch to quickly pull it over his head.

“Sorry about that, we’re moving in and kinda just left everything in the hall since it’s only our apartments on this end. Plus we knew you weren’t home-,”

“Wait how did you know I wasn’t home exactly?”

“Hey Y/N!,” your friend, Dana, smiles appearing from the same room followed by another man.

“Dana what are you doing in their apartment? And I guess you told them I wasn’t home?”

“I’m doing my part in helping the new neighbors move in of course!,” she smiles, helping slide one of the boxes inside before moving to stand beside you.

“...but you don’t even live here and you also hate packing or unpacking.”

“That’s not true, I helped you when you moved!”

“With one box and then you left to get food and it took you two hours to get back,” you retort with a smirk making your new neighbors quietly laugh to themselves and Dana roll her eyes.

“Anyway! I didn’t tell them you weren’t home they figured that out on their own but I did confirm said suspicion.”

“Yea earlier this week we went to everyone on the floor and introduced ourselves. We tried your door a few times but never got an answer. We figured you were either very busy or a hermit,” the originally shirtless one laughs. “I’m Florian by the way and this is my brother Masias.”

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you,” you reply shaking both of their hands. “Well since you guys are busy I don’t want to be in the way so I’m gonna head out.”

“You won’t be in the way if you stay, in fact we’re almost done for the day if you want to hang out for a bit. That is if you’re not too tired or don’t have a lot to do.”

“C’mon I know you’ve been stressed out with school, hang out and get your mind off of it for a while! Plus these are two super hot guys and I’m trying to get us dates,” she responds, whispering the last part and making you give her a look.

“Alright sure just let me put my bag up and change,” you answer as your best friend lightly bounces on her feet as she cheers.

———

After returning from changing into one of your university tees and sweatpants (which Dana insisted you not wear in a text she sent not long after you left knowing your usual go to outfit for when you’re home), you joined everyone else on the couch.

You got to know Florian and Masias more as you guys talked and they learned things about you as well, like how you weren’t a hermit but in graduate school working to become a Physian’s Assistant, which explained why you were never in your apartment.

A little later, Florian suggested watching a movie on Netflix to which you first were apprehensive about considering you should probably be spending your time in a more productive way, like reading over your notes and studying. However like Dana said, you didn’t have any tests for a while so you could afford a free day.

Handing the remote to Dana, both men agreed to let you guys pick which movie you wanted to see. You weren’t picky and up for anything leaving the choice to Dana.

Flipping through the different titles, you notice her instantly light up seeing her all time favorite singer, Beyoncé’s, Coachella documentary. “Ok just telling you now, if we don’t find anything else to watch this is gonna be it.”

“D, I’m sure they would rather watch something else than see Homecoming,” you lightly laugh, Dana rolling her eyes as she waves you off continuing to scroll.

“It’s fine, whatever you guys want to watch we’ll be ok with,” Florian replies, softly smiling as the setting sun shines through the open blinds onto his face making him look even more gorgeous.

“Jesus who are his parents, Greek Gods?!,” you thought as you turned your attention back to the bright screen in front of you to not stare.

“I’m not gonna lie though, I don’t really see what the excitement is about her though,” he spoke instantly causing everyone to go silent as all eyes were now on him.

Even Masias knew his brother had just messed up as he looked down shaking his head. “Flo you did not just say that in front of them.”

“I mean she’s beautiful don’t get me wrong, it’s just the music I can’t get into,” he replies, ears turning red from his nerves about what would happen next.

“Ok so I take it you’ve never really sat and listened to a Beyoncé song?,” Dana asked hands pressed together on the table in front of her as if trying to solve the greatest mystery to man.

“I mean I have, but still it didn’t do anything for me.”

“We might need to get your ears checked then.”

“Dana! Don’t listen to her, I understand. Beyoncé does make music more so for women or those who love pop and R&B. You’re more into rap so she’s not really on your music radar,” you explain trying to not only make Florian not feel bad but also let your crazed fan girl of a friend calm down from hearing the slander.

Dana was the textbook definition of a beyhive member. Any form of “disrespect” from anyone towards the queen wouldn’t be tolerated and she definitely had something to say. Never in a threatening way though like how some others were who took it too seriously.

You on the other hand were beyhive adjacent, as you liked to call it. You were technically part of the hive from your love of Beyoncé, but you definitely weren’t about the drama that would happen at times. Thus, you were off to the side of the hive in your own little honeycomb condominium.

“You know what? Just for that, we’re definitely watching it now,” she smiled starting the movie and humming along before the music even started.

———

Now after 11, you helped Florian in the kitchen clean up the glasses and two large bowls you guys used for snacks as Dana talked with Masias on the couch about the places in LA he had to check out.

“You guys don’t hate me too much do you?,” Florian asks leaning against the counter as he wipes water off his hands.

“No why would we hate you?”

“From the looks on your face when I said I wasn’t really into Beyoncé, you’d think I kicked a puppy,” he deeply chuckles making you laugh.

“I’m not gonna lie, when you first said it I did have a couple points listed if it would’ve led to a debate,” you lightly laugh. “Butt it’s like I said you have different preferences in music and that’s ok. Just maybe never mention that in front of Dana again,” you reply making him laugh harder.

“Yea don’t worry, I definitely learned my lesson.”

You spend a few more minutes talking and laughing before a small yawn creeps it’s way out of you as you cover your mouth.

“Uh oh, have we kept Cinderella out pass her curfew?,” he smirks.

“Afraid I’m gonna turn into even more of a bum than I already look?,” you ask matching his smirk as both of you laugh at what others would probably look at as a dumb joke. “I have had a long day so I probably should get going.”

“Ok, let me walk you out.”

“Florian I live literally across the hall right in front of you, you don’t have to.”

“True but anything could happen in those 10, 15 feet. Then not only will Dana hate me for not listening to Beyoncé but also because I let her friend walk out by herself.”

Giggling, you grab your phone and keys from the counter before slipping your feet into your slides beside the front door. “If you insist,” you reply slightly shrugging your shoulders. “D I’m about to leave, are you staying with me tonight?”

“And hear you up at the crack of dawn? I love you girl but I need to sleep in my own bed so I’m gonna head out in a few too,” she answers with a small stretch.

“Ok well text me when you get home. It was nice meeting you Masias!”

“Nice meeting you too Y/N! Hopefully we can all hang out again,” he smiles waving as you and Florian walk out the door.

“Thank you for walking those dangerous 10 feet with me! Who knows what would’ve happened if you weren’t here,” you say, doing your best damsel in distress impersonation.

“I’m sorry I’m a gentleman that always makes sure to walk a lady to her door,” he laughs. “But seriously though if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to get one of us. Even if you just want to get away from your work you’re welcome over here.”

You were trying to continue your cool, nonchalant attitude but the more you stood outside with him, you could feel yourself breaking. Unsure if it was the intense yet soft gaze of his green eyes looking back into yours, or how although he was nervously rubbing the back of his neck he still exuded all the confidence in the world, you felt your palms become sweaty and hoped you didn’t do or say anything stupid.

“Thanks I appreciate that. Well I have class tomorrow so I guess I should get to bed,” you softly smiled as you unlocked your door. “See you later Florian.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

With a smile and small wave, he waited until he heard you lock the door from inside before going back to his place. Smiling to himself just as you were doing with your back pressed against your door.

Taglist: @momobaby227 @crushed-pink-petals @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicana @melinda-january @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @lovelymari4 @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jojolu @jnk-812 @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @itshinothey @wildfirecracker @nina-sj

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged and don’t see your name, only wants to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

#florian munteanu #florian big nasty munteanu #florianxreader #florianxblackreader #florianxwoc

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burberryharold · 4 years

Text

Alone Together

Part One

Hello, guys! I’ve finally come around to writing my first fanfic on Tumblr and to say that I’m excited would be an understatement. I’ve had this idea for a while now and I’m hoping you guys like it; Alone Together follows the journey of Ellie and Harry through this rough period of quarantine. It’s just a little something I thought of and decided to have fun with it and make the best out of the current situation, so I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think! This is gonna be a series but I haven’t settled on how long it’s gonna be yet, but for now here’s Part One of Alone Together.

February 25th, Tuesday

Ellie huffed and wiped her forehead, taking notice of the dark strands of hair clinging onto her face from the sweat. She deeply regretted sending off the moving people, insisting that she can handle the rest of the boxes herself. Big mistake. She was by no means weak or incapable of lifting heavy items, but after a long day of moving back and forth from her old flat to her new one, Ellie was absolutely exhausted. In retrospect, she realised that she should not have moved all of her things in one day, but it’s too late, she has to face the consequences of her decision. Damn me for thinking that this was a good idea, Ellie thought to herself.

Staring at the boxes in the hallway in hopes that they would magically move themselves, Ellie failed to notice that someone walked out of the elevator and was heading in her direction.

“Ellie? Ellie Heart? Is that you?” a deep yet familiar voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

Ellie’s hand flew to her chest as she gasped at the sudden voice, “Bloody hell, you scared the shit out of me!”

She finally opened her eyes to look at the person as he chuckled; her jaw dropped at the familiar sights of chocolate curls and green eyes. “Harry? What? What are you doing here?” she questioned with wide eyes.

Her heart fluttered at the sight of him; she had not seen Harry in quite a while and was shocked to see him standing outside of her new flat. “Are you stalking me, Styles? Is that what this is?” she jokingly narrowed her eyes at him, resting her hands on her hips.

Harry ‘s bright eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Oh yes, Heart, that’s exactly what I’m doing, you caught me.” He raised his hands in surrender.

Ellie's smile widened at his words and she started taking in his attire. He was sporting a pair of grey sweatpants and a black hoodie with “Treat People With Kindness” printed on it, despite it being an abnormally warm afternoon. She smiled at his choice of outfit and decided to tease him for it, “Nice hoodie you got there, Harry, I see you’re still your usual narcissistic self.”

Harry threw his head back in laughter at her words, “Good to see that you’re still as funny as I remember you, Ellie, it’s been a while.” He flashed her another bright smile and gestured to the boxed discarded along the hallway, “I take it that you’re just moving in?”

Ellie nodded, suddenly remembering that she’s standing in front of him drenched in sweat and looking disheveled, while he managed to look like he just stepped out of a runway, despite his casual outfit. “Just moved literally all of my things here today, which was a huge mistake if I’m being honest, but yeah.” She paused after taking notice of the grocery bags resting beside his feet, “Wait, do you live here as well?”

There were only three flats on this floor, hers, the one right across from her, and another just at the end of the hallway. “This is me, just moved in here recently actually,” Harry pointed at the door beside him, “My house is being fumigated because of bloody termites and I’ve been meaning to do some renovations, so this seemed like an appropriate time. Can’t go back home for a few weeks so.”

A shy smile made its way onto Ellie’s lips, “Guess we’ll be neighbours for the meantime then, huh?”

She marveled at the sight of his dimples, “I’m looking forward to it.”

Ellie tried to ignore the way her heart started pounding faster at the prospect of having Harry so close to her for a few weeks. It’s just a little crush, El, let it go.

Ellie being a huge fan of Harry is no secret to anyone that knows her, not even to Harry himself she fears. Even as a One Direction-obsessed teenager, she’s always paid Harry a little extra attention. When his debut album came out, Ellie was beyond ecstatic. She had known that Harry was a fan of artists like the Rolling Stones and Fleetwood Mac, and she definitely felt their influences on him in music, both in his solo career and in One Direction. So, despite being absolutely devastated that the band is on a hiatus, Ellie can’t deny that she is enjoying their solo careers.

They had originally met back in 2014 when Julian Bunnetta first introduced them to each other. She’d known Julian for about a year, having worked on a number of songs with him. She was no stranger to his close relationship to the band, but she had never expected to ever meet any of the members. Needless to say, Ellie was floored when she saw Julian approaching her, at the party he dragged her to, with the tall, handsome boy beside him.

Julian smirked at her wide eyes, “El, this is Harry, but you already knew that,” he sent her a wink. “H, this is Ellie, the songwriter I’ve been telling you about.”

Had she heard him correctly? Did he just say that he has talked about her to Harry Styles?

Ellie had to pull herself together as the boy smiled in recognition, “Hello, Ellie, it’s good to finally meet you! Been hearing a lot of things about you, this guy won’t stop talking about how insanely talented you are.”

Ellie thinks she’s about to faint.

She’s met a couple of celebrities from working alongside Julian, but she has never been this starstruck before. And the fact that Julian has been praising her songwriting talent in front of Harry does not help ease her erratic heartbeat.

“I- uh- thanks?” She wanted to facepalm. “You too- I mean, um, thank you, I’m such a huge fan of you guys.”

Harry chuckled at her response, “Thank you, Julian may or may not have mentioned that before.”

She narrowed her eyes at Julian, who had an amused expression on his face. “Oh yeah, told him all about your crazy obsession with him.”

“Julian!” Ellie groaned and covered her face with her hands, feeling the warmth rushing to her cheeks, “You bloody knobhead, I hate you.”

“Don’t worry, love” Harry laughed, “he only had good things to say about you, and if anything, I’m flattered.”

Ever since that night, they’ve only ran into each other two other times, which Ellie was disappointed about. Once when she had worked with the band on What A Feeling, and another back in January 2019. Ellie was surprised when her friend Tom Hull called her one night and invited her to the studio, saying that he and a friend of his were struggling with a song and he wanted her help. She hadn’t hesitated and went to meet him the following day at a studio in Malibu. What Tom had failed to mention was that his friend was Harry Styles, who was working on his second album.

Her eyes had noticeably widened when they fell upon the tall figure standing in the corner, talking to someone on the phone. She immediately darted towards her friend and pinched his arm, “You didn’t think to tell me that Harry was here?” she whispered-exclaimed. A wide grin painted Tom’s lips, “Thought I’d surprise you.”

Since then, after spending a whole day helping them with the verse and the bridge on a song called Canyon Moon, Ellie hasn’t seen the rockstar. Until now.

She didn’t even think it was possible for him to look any more beautiful than he already is, but he’s managed to prove her wrong. The light stubble and mustache that graced his face made him look more mature; she remembered how he had once complained about not being able to grow any facial hair, but it seems like that has changed.

Looking that good should be a crime, she thought to herself.

Harry cleared his throat, pulling her out of her thoughts yet again, “D’you need any help with that?”

Ellie was about to shake her head and refuse, but then she bit her lip and paused. She doesn’t know if it’s because she’s exhausted, or if she just misses his presence and wants him around her for a little bit longer. She figured it was a combination of both, and that’s why she found herself saying “Actually, yeah, I’d really appreciate that.”

“Hold on a minute,” he pointed to the bags in his hands and gestured to his flat, “gotta put those inside first.”

Ellie was busy hauling a box that held her cutlery and plates into her kitchen when she heard Harry calling out for her. “Love? Where do you want me to put this?”

She tried not to think of the pet name, assuring herself that that’s just who Harry is; he’s always friendly and charming, calling people around him “love” or “sweetheart”, but it makes her heart skip a beat nevertheless.

The box had “Bedroom” messily written on it and so she pointed towards the hallway on her left, “Just down the hallway, first room on the right, please.”

His short curls bounced as he nodded his head and carried the box to her room with ease. She couldn’t help but stare at the way his arms flexed holding the box; he’d changed from his sweatshirt into a fitted black t-shirt, emphasising his muscles.

Ellie silently scolded herself for staring and went back out to the hallway, carrying yet another box. This one, however, was much heavier than the rest. She had packed all of her vases together and now sees how it was a bad idea. God, Ellie, you’re just making dumb decisions left and right, she thought silently.

She groaned as the box weighed her down and struggled to not drop it. “Hey, hey, let me.”

Harry suddenly appeared in front of her, reaching his hands out to take the box. In the process, his hands brushed hers and it took everything in Ellie to not drop the box. She felt like a silly kid, freaking out over touching a boy’s hand, but this was Harry. The same Harry who she admired and has had a crush on for as long as she can remember; she can’t just ignore the feeling of his soft hands against hers.

Get it together, Ellie.

“Thank you,” she flashed him a guilty smile, “careful, that one’s heavy.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing,” Harry smirked and held the box as if it was as light as a feather, flexing his arms in the process, “see these guns over here? They can handle anything.”

She stopped herself from staring at his arms yet again and instead rolled her eyes, “Okay then, Superman, go put that in the living room, please.”

Harry let out a laugh and made his way towards her living room, making a show of flexing his arms and looking at her over his shoulders.

Ellie really missed him.

Once Harry and Ellie had finished moving everything into her flat, she invited him to have a drink and a little chat, to which he delightfully agreed.

After settling comfortably into the couch, with a bottle of beer in his hand, Harry turned his body towards Ellie’s and smiled, “How have you been then? Haven’t seen each other in a long time now, haven’t we?”

Ellie relaxed into her couch and nodded, “Yeah, a little over a year since I last saw you and Tommy at the studio.”

“I’ve worked on a few projects since then,” she took a sip of her drink then shook her head, “no, actually, I have worked on a lot of projects and I’ve decided to just take a break from it all.”

“A break? How come?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “I remember you saying you loved writing all the time, in fact, think you said that you couldn’t go on a day without writing at least a few lines.”

Ellie’s insides almost melted at his soft, slow voice; she’s always loved the way Harry spoke.

“I did yeah, but everyone needs a little break sometimes,” the corners of her lips turned a little upwards, surprised that he remembered. “I didn’t feel as inspired as I used to be, felt like I was just a machine producing lyrics, so I figured now is a good time to take a break and be free of any pressures.”

Harry held her gaze for a second before nodding his head. “Yeah, I get that,” he said with a soft tone, “sometimes even the thing you love doing the most can get exhausting.”

Ellie breathed out a soft sigh, knowing the meaning behind his words.

“Well, look at you now, you’re the one in complete control, aren’t ya?” she nudged his thigh with her foot that was resting on the couch. He smiled at her words.

“Loved the new album, by the way,” she sat upright, as if she suddenly remembered that he released his second album not too long ago. “Never got to congratulate you on that.”

A bright smile graced Harry’s face. “Really? You did?”

She hummed in affirmation, “How could I not? It’s so fucking good. The lyrics, the melodies, everything. You were amazing, H.”

Ellie didn’t realise what she called him until the words were out of her mouth, but Harry didn’t seem to mind. She was well aware that they were not exactly friends, having met only a few times, and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Harry avoided her gaze and bashfully stared at his lap, “Thank you, means a lot coming from you.”

A blush burned its way to Ellie’s cheeks, wondering what he meant exactly by that, but she didn’t question it.

“Uh,” Harry cleared his throat before continuing, “what’s your favourite song then?” He asked, looking up at her through his dark lashes.

“Oh that is a tough question,” Ellie set her drink down on the coffee table and turned to him, a serious expression etched on her face. “This is gonna take a while.”

After an intense and thorough explanation of why she can’t simply choose one favourite song off of Fine Line— because, Harry, I love every song too fucking much— Ellie noticed that she’s kept Harry busy for the last two hours.

Ellie started panicking. I wasted so much of his time! What if he didn’t even want to hang out with me?

“Oh God, Harry, I’m so sorry,” she started apologising, feeling her hands getting clammy, “I’ve wasted two hours of your time and you probably had things to do-”

Frowning at her words, Harry abruptly sat up from his previous laid back position on the couch. “’course you didn’t waste my time, love, don’t say that,”

“I didn’t have anything else to do today. Went out to do a shop and I planned to stay in and watch movies, so I’m glad I ran into you.”

Ellie’s shoulders visibly relaxed and a smile made its way onto her lips, “I’m glad I ran into you too, it was nice catching up.”

She had definitely missed the curly-haired boy; she was still having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that he’s sitting right here on her couch, but she knew he had to go soon.

“It was, and I really hope we don’t spend another year without seeing each other again.”

Warmth coursed through her body. Me too.

Harry‘s mouth opened and closed, seeming as if he had something to say then decided against it. She noticed he was playing around with the rings on his fingers, twisting them around.

“Tell you what,” Harry started, turning his focus towards her again, “how about I give you my number? You know, in case of emergency or anything since we’re neighbours now.”

Ellie mentally cursed her genes as she could feel herself blushing again, for absolutely no reason. She’s always been the type of person to get flustered and blush at everything, just like her father. Be cool, Ellie, or he’s gonna think you’re weird.

She merely nodded her head in response and mechanically handed him her phone. Harry chuckled at her and grabbed the small device. He put in his number and gave her the device back, having put his contact name as “H. Styles”

“Just text me so I know it’s you, yeah?” he rose from the couch, stretching his muscles from sitting for too long. Ellie stood up too and walked him to the door, watching as he made his way into his own flat across the hall.

After unlocking his door, Harry turned back to face her. “Have a good night, yeah? Don’t hesitate to call or text me if you need any help, okay?”

Ellie wanted to take a picture of him right then and there. The dim lights in the hallway cast a soft glow on his face, making his features look even more ethereal and soft.

“You too,” She pulled a few strands of her hair behind her ear and leaned her body against her door frame. “And thank you, that’s very sweet of you.”

He flashed her another smile and put up his hand in a small wave, the both of them backing up into their own flats and ready to close the door.

Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just the lighting or if Harry was really blushing, but she likes to think that it was the latter.

Once she made it back into her living room, she picked up her phone and typed in a new message.

“Hey, it’s me, your weird neighbour across the hall :)”

And that’s all for part one guys! What do you think about it? This part is short because I’m just introducing the story and our main character Miss Ellie Heart, but the next ones are gonna be longer so brace yourselves. I’m so glad to finally get back to writing! Everyone is quarantined at home because of COVID-19 and I have more time on my hands now to write. Let me know what you think about this and if you’d like to read the next part, I’d really love to know what you guys think!

Remember, stay home and stay safe xx

#Alone Together #Harry Styles #Harry Styles imagines #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles blurbs #Harry Styles writing #Harry Styles fluff

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supersoldiersruined-me · 5 years

Text

Sinful Dance

A/N: This is my very belated challenge entry for @siren-kitten-his 2k followers challenge! Congrats again love! My prompt was the Lust sin. I took a different approach to my normal writing. The whole text is the same story, but cut into the five senses. Every other part changes pov between Bucky and reader. Warnings: Pining? Dirty talk, swearing, implied sexual situations Word count: 3.7k Additional prompt: “Your lips are getting really close to mine.” from an ask.

Main Masterlist | Challenge Entries Masterlist

- Sight -

A squeaky door slides in front of him, indicating his arrival, fifteen minutes late to the monthly meeting. He grunts as he takes his place between Steve and Nat. A grumpy Tony sits at the end of the oval table, flipping through his binder, not paying any mind to the impatient crew around him. Neither Steve’s pen tapping nor Pepper’s shoulder nudge take him out of his focus. Focus that has the cold room feeling even more tense, and the people in it even more fed up of the eventful week behind them.

It’s a shy Peter Parker who breaks the silence, “Guys, I just really want to, um…”

“Queens, don’t sweat it.” With a captainesque smile, Steve proceeds to reassure him.

“We always have your back,” adds Carol over the hologram.

After a shared laugh over the poor boy’s mishap, the meeting goes on accordingly without too many interruptions. Notes over the new weapons and tech are handed, along with old-men jokes from Nat towards Steve and Bucky’s ever-so-astonished faces. The plans and maps from their regular intel seem to satisfy everyone; Bucky is the first up, ready to leave for a much needed shower and sleep. He stops short before Pepper can even begin to introduce what has a cold shiver running up his spine.

Standing there behind the glass doors, a young woman clothed of the prettiest silk blouse, tucked in a pencil skirt waits for her cue. She walks in, keeping her eyes on the ground as she takes a deep breath. He looks at her, at the way her hair waves over her shoulders. Preppy glasses frame her face and he’s ashamed to admit he wants to paint them with arousal. Weak in the knees, he retreats to his seat, the room suddenly closing on itself, becoming warmer by the second. Her shaking hands set a pile of paperwork in front of Tony for him to sign, then she straightens herself, hopeful eyes finally daring to look around the room. His insides shake; he wishes someone would strap him to the chair because he’s not sure how long he can handle himself before he’s gotta get his mouth on her. It’s grotesque. It’s new. He has no clue what took hold of him.

“This here is Y/N Y/L/N. Thank you, miss.” Tony nods her way as he flicks his pen open, his gaze running through the contracts. “If you have any orders to make for outfits, gear, what ever really, you go through her. And no funky shenanigans, please.” She smiles shyly and scans the room, brushing her nerves aside to make a good first impression. Bucky watches her wipe the palm of her hands over the jersey material of the skirt that’s so tightly hugging her bubbly behind. He wants them on his chest, his stomach, his thighs. He wants them around his d-

“James Barnes!” Nat whisper-screams into his ear, eyes shooting arrows at him. He has the nerve to look at her in wonder. Not concerned by the nature of her accusation. A chuckle on his left, the usual that comes before a snarky remark, finally has him realising something is genuinely wrong.

“Thought your arm was the stiffest thing you owned. But dude,” Sam jokes around, his hand on his teammate’s shoulder as he slowly exits the room, saluting the young lady with a military wave.

Her eyes meet Bucky’s then, and she lets them fall down his features, until they grow wide at the bulge in his sweats. He’s ashamed, caught red handed as he flattens himself the best he can. He wants to run. But there’s a rope tying them together he just doesn’t know how to rip; doesn’t want to anyway. So he stays there in his chair, rolling so he’s at least facing the other way, and waits for everyone to leave before he can make a move.

- Smell -

The sun is down, enabling Y/N to relax and get ready for bed. She was given her room before they had finished renovating it, so apart from her bed sitting in a corner, she has to use the common facilities for another week or two. She walks out in nothing but a thick robe - a neat embroidery of her name sits over her left breast - and heads towards the gym’s bathroom with her toiletry bag. Her sleepiness has her walking through the wrong door and into the men’s room, which she only notices once she walks by the row of urinals against the left wall. She shrugs with a soft sigh, but proceeds. It’s late and who’d be around anyway?

The stalls are made of tall, expensive ceramic walls that even the supersoldiers can’t top. They have actual doors rather than cheap curtains. The only thing joining them is the small gap on the ground where the water runs to a single drain, and another about a foot down from the ceiling to allow the steam to dissipate.

She turns the water on from the separate cubicle before taking off the robe and stepping in, letting the warmth soothe her tense muscles; she hadn’t thought this day would be as stressful as it has. She’s halfway through rinsing her hair when the door slams shut behind hurried footsteps. Her breath hitches in her throat. She freezes. It’s quiet for a minute until the water from the neighbour stall starts running. She stays under the stream, not saying a word and hopes she doesn’t get in trouble.

“Lavender?” His voice is deep and raspy. She’s not sure she heard this one yet. “Guess you forgot your stuff and had to take the samples, huh.” He adds a chuckle to his remark. She scuffs, thinking it would give her away if she laughed with him.

The cap of his shampoo bottle snaps, and slowly the scent rushes through the room, through her senses, to finish its journey between her legs. It’s rich and spicy. A hint of teakwood lets her know this isn’t regular drugstore shampoo. He had it made for him. To fit his needs, to smell like the woods with a faint vintage charm. Only one man in the room earlier could enjoy such details.

Bucky. The man she had read about and researched. Twisted things about him she never understood seemed to be what fed her hunger. He had a je-ne-sais-quoi that drew her in. She’d managed to put it aside; closing books and web browsers was an easy task. Unlike her current situation.

Her body trembles at the scent. Her slick fingers begin to knead into her skin with a mighty need. He’d be the death of her if she didn’t leave the room quickly, but with her head resting on the wall between them, she lets her hand succumb to the craving. She focuses on the sound of his hands rubbing over his hard body. Of the soft hum of satisfaction when he passes over a sore spot. The image of his hard cock in his sweats surfaces. She had never seen something so big, never owned a toy that looked like him in the least. He’d be a new sensation she’d have to have once in her boring life.

She has to bite her cheek to stifle the moans that threaten to give her sinful actions away. Her fingers - now clean - squeeze into her core, pumping in sync with the motions of his hand on his dick that she pictures in her mind. She’s quickly building her orgasm; the inevitable cry of betrayal turning her on even more. She holds on as he turns the water off. As he ambles out of the room and she swears he’s trailing on purpose. When her thumb flicks over her clit just right, Bucky walks out (finally) and she falls to her knees, sitting on her feet with her forearm on the cold wall - her head rests on top of it as she bites down her climax. The soap makes it hard for her weak legs to keep steady as she attempts to get back up. Her hand reaches for the robe, too out of this world to care about drying first. She brings the thick material to her face, hiding her blush from herself as if it was going to erase what had just happened. She wouldn’t handle this much longer. What ever had her feeling this way needed to stop. Or did it?

- Hearing -

His heavy body drops to his bed, making the headboard smash onto the wall. A rather thin wall he shares with Steve - the poor boy. His mind fails to recall the last time he kept his friend from sleeping. Too long, he thinks. Much too long. Y/N comes to his mind then; her soft features and the faint darkening of her eyes at the sight of his appendage. The way her hair would feel between his fingers, bunched up as he had his way with her until they matted on her face. He knows he’ll never get a second chance with her. He’d blown it. So it’s him and his imagination against the odds, but tonight exhaustion has the best of him before he can venture his hand down his pants. He’d have a hard time rushing his blood to where he needs it anyway.

He’s up in a heartbeat the next morning, refreshed and feeling dapper. He walks out of his room covered in nothing but another pair of sinful sweatpants - commando, of course - and one of his tight sparring t-shirts. The smell of fresh coffee and burnt toast welcomes him into the kitchen area, where everyone seems to have settled for brunch. As usual, he’s the last to show up, but his serving along with his double mimosa wait in front of his assigned seat. Placed on its right is another flute of liquid sunshine, a small plate with a half-eaten croissant and a notebook stretched to its limit with notes and clippings and whatnot. He steps towards the table and sits. Y/N fills the seat beside him a minute later, acting casual with a little nod hello.

From the corner of his eye, Bucky notices the oversized white t-shirt she most likely wore to bed. He’s sure she’s wearing shorts but most of them are covered by her top, leaving her smooth legs on display. He’s salivating, and it has nothing to do with the thought of ravaging the pile of bacon. He dares turn around slightly. Just enough so to see her licking the excess chocolate that’s dribbling from the croissant onto her fingers. He forces his eyes shut, his fingers soon digging holes into the fabric of the chair. Then when he thinks he’s gained control, a whisper of a moan escapes her lips when the sweetness hits her tongue, proving once more his infuriating vulnerability. He grabs his plate and he’s up in a flash before his body betrays him again, almost knocking Wanda to the ground as he shuffles around the island. With a lamentable excuse, he disappears into the hall towards the living quarters.

The smell of barbeque lingers in the air as he steps onto the rooftop a couple hours later. He sets the yoga mat down by Bruce’s experimental garden; he had grown fond of this hideout over his healing process. He’s slowly winding down, breathing in and out like Nat had taught him. With a new draft of wind comes the scent of the flower pots that bathe in the sun next to him. He remembers the sweet smell of the flowers his mom kept around the yard; magnolia, lilac, lavender… Lavender?

His eyes scan the surroundings. Lavender doesn’t grow in pots, he reminds himself. He has a look around the yard, as if he didn’t know the place like the back of his hand. Curiosity has him on his feet and roaming around to find the source. He feels a pang to his guts when his sight falls onto Y/N. She’s sitting on a lounge chair, alone. Over the back of the chair he sees one of her legs folded over the armrest, the other is bent at the knee towards her chest. The same white shirt covers her top but her hair is now loose from the messy bun she sported earlier. He watches it dance as the wind carries through. He closes his eyes and it hits him; she was the mysterious man in the shower the night before.

His mind runs wild at the thought of her naked body. At the water running over her skin, tickling her every inch. Or the fact that she must have heard him relieve himself, the squishing of his movements unusually fast for someone who’s cleaning up.

“Fuck,” he hears her clear as day; she just moaned the word out in the open. He’d walk closer if he didn’t have enhanced hearing. There’s another soft moan following and he’s going wild.

“B-Bu,” he shivers. “James, ah, please!” He stands there unable to move as he listens to her calling out his name. Her head falls back onto the chair and her other leg spreads out, mirroring the other. He curses himself because he can hear just how wet she is. He has to bite his lip to prevent his own begs from spilling out.

“So good,” she continues. Another finger slides by the others. He could tell she’s pumping fast with his eyes closed if he wanted, but seeing her shoulder bounce seems to prove he’s not so wicked after all. There is no mirage here and he’s on the verge of snapping his restraint. His sweats allow him extra room for his arousal but there’s no hiding it. His back rests on the brick wall of the staircase now. It’s cold and he needs it. Bad.

“I’m gonna,” No. Please don’t. “I’m gonna come Bucky,” she whimpers. It would be a lie to say he didn’t want her to. He also doesn’t want this to end. Until one of them makes the jump, they’d be dancing this agonizing dance and those little moments are all he’s going to get. She’s right there though, he hears her gush. He rushes into the stairwell. He doesn’t want to know. Doesn’t want to break the perfect bubble he’s put around her. There’s one way he’d let himself hear that and it’s if he’d be the cause of it. Literally.

- Touch -

She pulls her leggings up, hips swaying with the music on her TV. It’s late and she needs the extra motivation to get her ass to the gym. So she struts down the hall, waits for the elevator and makes her way to the basement. The gym’s door is ajar when she gets there, a stripe of light colours the linoleum floor at her feet. She shrugs it off; she made it this far, might as well go through with it.

A tall, square figure gets up from a bench on the far end of the room. Hair well sorted in a bun. White tank-top snug against his back. He turns around and their eyes meet. Her hand reaches for the handle on her way to desertion; a reflex she would have later regretted.

But, “Wait!” He calls after her. The muscles in her arm become frail making her hand fall to her side. She looks at him again, taking longer this time. Allowing herself to indulge and he’s letting her. He wants to take a step forward but she waves him off.

“Bucky, I can’t…” Her words are weak.

“It’s okay. I’m not sure I can either,” he confesses. They sigh in sync. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She watches his expression of defeat and swallows the lump in her throat. She walks over to the mirror, keeping a safe distance between them. Her eyes meet themselves as she scans her face. They close with another sigh - her forehead leans against the mirror. Fists clench.

“I don’t know either, Bucky. All I know is whatever happens next scares the shit out of me. It’s like Schrodinger’s cat. Open the box. Taste the fruit, and you’ll know. But there’s an outcome I don’t want to face...” She hears Bucky’s shuffle. He’s right by her when she opens her eyes, startling her. She looks at his reflection now. Both of them silent as they go through each other’s doubled features. A wave of spice hits her nose just as she manages to steady her breathing. She bites her lip, eyes looking at his in the mirror. Her finger lifts until it reaches the image of his bicep. She slides it down, the soft squeak of her fingertip against the hard surface makes them shiver. He mimics her action and draws along the line of her hip. He’s bending so low she can feel his breath on her shoulder.

She grants herself to turn around, tired of faking. Tired of hiding her desire and whatever comes with it. He’s right there and accessible and she’s spiraling down a panic attack until he steps up and breaks the tension. His warm hands grab onto her forearms, effortlessly pulling her close to his chest. She’s putty. She’s everything but the confident and sexy woman she wants to be right at this moment. The speed of his heartbeat under her palm lets her know he’s not at his best either. The depth of his eyes sucks her in and heat travels through her, blushing her cheeks.

“Your lips are getting really close to mine,” he says with a cocky grin. It would be impossible to slide a sheet of paper between them.

“Bucky, please,” she whimpers albeit the uncertainty of the moment. She smiles when the weight of her words makes him shiver.

“It’ll change everything.” His hands are on her cheeks now, ready.

“I damn well hope so.”

- Taste -

“I’m sorry Mr. Barnes. Mr. Stark has asked me to inform you that public facilities of the compound are secured with cameras. High definition cameras.” The AI blurts out through the intercom, and it’s as if it, too, doesn’t want to see the following scene unfold.

“Fucking kidding me,” Bucky grunts, eyes shooting to the ceiling.

He feels her giggle onto his chest. The proximity should be firing up his arousal, but the cute gesture hits a whole other cord. Maybe this is what she meant by ‘unbearable outcome’, he thinks. He shakes the thought away, not wanting to break his one and only chance.

“You know, there is one public place that definitely isn’t monitored,” she mentions, wiggling her brows at him. His furrow for a second before he catches her intention. He picks up an elastic band from the rack in the gym before they amble down the hall and back up into the living quarters. He’s first to peek around the corner that leads towards the bathrooms, her body following with a hand on his shoulder for balance. Once the coast is clear, he finds the back of her thighs and picks her up. With a sharp kick, the door opens before them, and to their benefit, the room seems deserted. He sets her down before securing the doors with the elastic; an extra security measure that he knows isn’t the strongest, but it eases his mind nonetheless.

“Go start the showers on the left, I’ll take care of the lights,” he asks. When he turns back around, she’s standing at the other end of the room, five meters or so, but it feels like the world. He looks at her. The tight material of her leggings against her legs. How it delicately rises into her lips. The tank top she sports lets him see the bumps of her breasts perfectly. He palms himself through his sweats, bead of precum already setting a visible round spot at the tip. She’s biting her lip and he wishes he had mind reading abilities. He’d know what she wanted. How she wanted it. He damn well knows what he wants, and he feels nauseous at the idea of finally obtaining it.

“What’s with the staring,” she jokes. He grunts and she smirks.

“You’ve had control over me ever since I laid eyes on you. This has never happened. You’re so fucking hot and I don’t want to ruin this,” he admits.

“Talking will get you nowhere, Barnes.” There’s a wink, followed by her hands reaching for the hem of her tank top - it’s on the ground as fast as Bucky can blink. He takes his own top off, the movement of his muscles making her whimper and he quivers through the steam that’s slowly filling the room. She takes her bra off as he begins to walk closer, only spurring his intentions.

“Jump,” he commands when he’s within reach, grabbing her legs and pushing her against the cold wall. Her legs fit perfectly around him, her short arms hold her steady onto his neck. Her moan when their groans grind together almost has him finishing in his pants.

“God the things you do to me,” he adds between pants. His eyes roam her face and land on her parted lips. He catches her doing the same when his eyes look into hers before giving in. They crash lips in a passionate kiss, making the world stop around them. The showers become distant waterfalls and the steam is nothing but a tropical weather. It’s as if he had just bitten into the sweetest peach. Soft and subtle. Her lips dance with his and it’s the best thing he’s ever lived. They part shortly, only to allow him to take her carefully into a stall.

“Bucky, our clothes,” she whines.

“Don’t fucking care sweetheart.” His lips are back on hers and she’s safely stuck between his broad chest and another ceramic wall. The stream of water glides over his body, matting his chest hair and making his skin glimmer. His tongue travels onto her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. It’s salty from her ever lasting arousal and he hums at the contrast.

Before she can even understand the new dynamic, he’s got his fingers on her pussy through her leggings. It clings deliciously to her body and he needs it. Needs the taste, needs the feel. He has to hear the soft cries he can pull from her.

“You’re a sin, baby. You know that?” he adds in a growl.

#my writing #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fic #kittens seven deadly sins #challenge entry #hopefully the formatting works

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nomnomsik · 5 years

Note

Sweetness, can I please request a bts reaction to y/n's outfit (some revealing outfits, others just average but boys are possessive) and can you please use the line "you're not wearing that" with a few of them? It's okay if not, I understand. ❣❣

A/N: I heard you had a bad day so I tried to get this out as fast as possible! I hope this cheers you up. Love, noms.

Trigger warnings: unhealthy relationships, manipulation, possessiveness, yandere-themes. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics. KEEP READING CUT AFTER HOSEOK. [UNEDITED]

Jin:

“You’re not wearing that.” Jin’s voice broke in just as you slipped the dress on.

“Now you’re telling me?” You groaned, the exhaustion of just redressing yourself a total pain.

“Watch yourself.” He warned, his hand touching the ruffled silk. “Yeah, you’re taking this off.” You sighed, turning around towards him.

“Jin, you bought this dress for me. Why are you telling me to not wear it? You approved it, didn’t you?”

“I did… But I changed my mind. It shows way too much skin on your shoulder.” You rolled your eyes, folding your arms in front of your chest.

“Well?” you questioned, motioning him to step out of the room so you could have the privacy of changing.

“Do you think I’m leaving?” He asked, slipping behind you. “You’re undressing here. Now. In addition, I’m picking your outfit for tonight.” He zipped the back of your dress down, revealing your skin.

“I can’t have you looking more terrible than you already are.”

Yoongi:

You slipped a white tank top of your pastel undergarments and a pair of black shorts, calling it a day for your outfit. Slipping on your bag onto your back, you happily marched down the stairs, humming to yourself.

Yoongi stood by the door, checking over all his items and making sure he had everything before he left his apartment. As he looked up, his jaw almost hit the floor. Skin galore.

“y-y/n, that’s really…” He started, unsure whether he should be completely enthralled by your gorgeous figure and skin or if he should be jealous, not wanting anyone else to see this beside him.

“Do you like it?” you smiled at him, twirling around for fun as you showed off your tight, yet freeing outfit.

“Maybe you should change the tank top.” He informed, not sure where he should be staring at.

“Wait why?” You questioned, pouting and confidence dropping. “I thought you would like it.”

“I do like it, it’s just that… Those spaghetti straps on the back might make give you a really bad tan.”

You turned your head, realizing he had a point. “Oh yeah, I completely forgot about that. Thanks, Yoongi.” You giggled, playfully nudging his arm. “And you said you hated the beach.”

“I still do!”

Hoseok:

“What do you mean I can’t wear this?” You questioned, looking down at your appearance. “I literally wear this almost every day.”

Hoseok bit on his lip, eyeing you up and down again, his fingers fidgeting with each other. “Please? Just not today?” He gave you a bright smile, trying to ignore the tight sports bra and your exposed stomach.

“Why does it matter so much?”

You looked back at yourself in the mirror of your bedroom, looking at your loose sweatpants, your hair tied, and the typical sports bras you wore every day to dance practice.

“U-um, it’s just…” Hoseok looked down Fila sneakers, his voice trailing off. “The boys are coming in today and I just…” His cheeks heated up in embarrassment at his true and petty reason. You felt the ends of your lips curl up as you wrapped him in a hug.

“Don’t worry, I’m all yours, okay?” He nodded, hiding his face into your shoulder. “You’re very cute, Hoseok. Your face gets all red when you’re embarrassed.” He whined, digging his head further into your neck.

“S-stoppp, I really don’t like it. I don’t want them to look at you when you’re always pretty like this.”

You just laughed. “I’m flattered.”

Namjoon:

“You better take that off,” Namjoon warned as he glared at you from across the room.

“My t-shirt?” You looked at him confusingly and back at your shirt.

“No, those leggings. You’re not wearing that.”

Staring down in shock, you knit your eyebrows. Is he really criticizing your pants right now?

“What is wrong with these? It’s fucking pants, Namjoon! What the heck…”

He stood up from his desk, walking over you to as you slowly felt a chill go down your spine.

“It’s because-” he grit, his hand coming behind your back and pushing your chest into his. “People are going to stare at your ass.”

“Namjoon!” You groaned, pushing yourself off him. “That’s literally only you. Nobody just stares at another person’s butt. That’s just straight up weird.”

“That’s what you think. I’m not joking, y/n. Change now.”

Jimin:

“Jimin, you better let me go this instant!” You yelled at the boy who was desperately holding onto your arm, crying out at you.

“Nononono!” His eyes tearing up as he dragged you down with him. If someone told you that before your dinner date with Jimin, he would end up crying at your knees, you would’ve never believed them. But here he saw, his cheeks wet as he cried out to you, begging, for you to not wear your gorgeous outfit.

“If another guy sees you like this, he’s going to try and make moves on you, and then you’re going to leave me!” Jimin cried out, smothering your body onto the cold tile floor. The outfit that he despised was a bold red dress that cut short right above the knee, with several openings at your back and at your collarbones.

“I swear, y/n. I’ll rip it if I have to! I’ll really do it! I’ll burn it if I have to!” He screamed out, hugging onto your body as tightly as possible. His constant crying and yelling was taking a toll on your brain, starting the beginnings of a headache.

“Okay, okay, okay, fine I’ll change into something else. Is that better?”

Like a switch, Jimin’s eyes brightened as he shook his head like an obedient puppy.

“I’ll be waiting.”

Taehyung:

“I don’t have a choice, Taehyung!”

“No, go change now.”

“Taehyung! I have no fucking clothes!” You spit out in anger. “Do you want to know why I don’t have any clothes? It’s because you got your paint all over them. Every. Single. One. Except for this! I don’t have anything else to change into!”

Taehyung had decided to take you outside on a date. The day prior, he had split a whole bucket of paint all over his clothes. Completely occupied by his painting, he forgot about the shirt he had casually tossed off to the side. When he did realize, he put it back onto its hanger with all your clothes, resulting in most of your wardrobe dripping with paint.

“Then go nude.” He stated bluntly. “I mean, you always say you don’t care about other people’s opinions of you. And, I always paint you nude whenever I ask. So I don’t really see a problem.”

“No.”

“I didn’t ask as if you had an option.” He muttered, his eyes shifting darker.

“I said no.”

There was a long silence until he broke it off.

“Fine. I’ll just take it off myself then.”

Jungkook:

“I’m off!” You called from the front of the door that Jungkook had opened for you.

“Wait.” He demanded, rushing out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around him as he made his way to the first floor. “You’re not wearing that.”

You had a white dress on, ruffles that decorated the bottom. It was a dress with a high halter neckline and sheer lace around the waist. It showed off the skin of your shoulders and most of your legs, matching with your white heels.

“Jungkook… C’mon… It’s my friend’s baby shower. No one there is single. There mostly all old adults or family.”

Jungkook’s brown eyes pierced through you, making you cower in fear as you lowered your head down.

“Okay… I’ll go change.”

He smiled, patting the top of your head before you headed up.

“I knew you were a good girl. Come here. Let me give you a kiss.”

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collecting-stories · 5 years

Text

Treacherous - Connor Murphy

A/N: More Connor Murphy. That’s it, that’s the author’s note.

I can’t decide if it’s a choice, getting swept away. I hear the sound of my own voice, asking you to stay. - Treacherous, Taylor Swift

\\\

Connor sat at the computer in lab, leaning back against the chair and staring at the application page for the local community college. He was trying to turn things around but it was a slower process than he would’ve liked it to be. The hardest part was bringing up his grades. Evan had offered to tutor him but there was no way Connor could endure hours listening to Evan stutter through explanations of things he already didn’t care about. Besides, wherever Evan went Jared seemed to appear as well and he was definitely not spending any more time than humanly necessary with Jared.

“Hey Wednesday Addams,” speak of the devil, Jared Kleinman leaned over the divider that separated Connor’s computer station. He was quick to click out of his browser, “trying to catch some porn on school time?”

“Jared,” Evan piped up, his mouth twitching nervously as he stood behind his friend.

“What do you want Kleinman?” Connor asked, fisting the hand in his lap, nails digging into his palm. Keep your cool, he silently reminded himself.

Though none of them saw it, you turned away from your computer, just in front of Connor’s cubicle to see what the commotion was. You had heard the scrapping chair, the dropped bag and the soft curse when Connor couldn’t get into the computer right away. You had silently cursed yourself, suddenly nervous that the guy you’d been crushing on for forever was sitting behind you. Not that he even realized it, but still, the nerves were there.

“Nothing, nothing, just wanted to know if you were gonna be sacrificing any babies in the woods tonight, ya know, it’s your holiday.” Jared joked, though no one laughed aside from himself.

“Shut the fuck up Jared,” Connor bit out.

You hear the chair legs scrape against the linoleum floor and you see him stand up. His jaw is tense and he looks ready to punch something. You’d seen him punch plenty before, a locker, numerous people, a computer, hell you’d been there in elementary school when he threw that printer at the teacher. But you were still somehow attracted to this guy. Maybe because he’d always been nice to you.

“Jared,” Evan tried again, tugging at his own shirt as he took a step back.

Kleinman continued to ignore Evan’s warning. A few other students were looking on now. “Chill out man, I’m just joking.” Those three words must have been highlighted in Jared’s dictionary because every time he said something rude he followed it with ‘just joking’ or ‘just kidding’ as if that made it all better.

“Yeah, you’re real fucking funny man. I’m howling.” Connor snapped.

“Hey, guys come on, lets just...uh, lets just, go Jared, okay. Let’s just go.” Evan attempted again, the higher pitch in his voice hinting at his obvious nerves.

“Why, what’s gonna happen?” Jared goded, “Murphy’s not gonna loose his cool is he?”

You jumped when Connor’s fist slammed against the keyboard of the computer. He grabbed his messenger bag off the floor and shoved passed Jared, his long legs taking him out of the computer lab. You scraped your own chair back, shouldering your backpack and deciding in that moment that you were going to do the thing you’d always wanted to do before, see if Connor was alright.

Evan shot you an apologetic look when you passed them and you just offered him a sympathetic smile. You knew that whatever dumbass thing Jared had said was in no way a reflection of Evan, he was a nice kid and you got along well enough. Evan wasn’t who you were thinking about right now though, the only person on your mind was Connor. By the time you got out of the computer lab you could the flap of Connor’s black denim shirt around the corner, in the direction of the art room. There was a set of double doors that led out to the bleachers and you figured that was probably where he would go.

You cut through the girl’s locker room, hoping your theory on Connor’s whereabouts was right as you slipped out the back door and headed across the parking lot to the bleachers. Once you were down the hill you found him easily, the only person on the field this late in the school day, he was on the steps that led to the first level of the bleachers, smoking what you assumed was a joint. You’d heard all about Connor’s exploits as the school stoner, as if no one else in the whole school every smoked.

“Hey,” you approached cautiously, like someone might a wild animal they were afraid would attack them. And you weren’t, of course, you were just nervous that he was still upset and that he wouldn’t want anything to do with you.

Connor looked up at you briefly and then went right back to smoking, eyes downcast.

“I’m sorry, about Jared, he’s a real dick sometimes.” You said, unsure what else to say.

“You friends with him?”

You shake your head, you definitely weren’t friends with Jared.

“Then it doesn’t matter.” He replied.

“I heard you were uh,” you scuffed your shoe further into the dirt, “I heard you were looking for a tutor. Evan, um, mentioned it.”

“So?”

“Well I just, figured, I could help.” You were doing pretty good in your classes. Good enough that you could offer your help reliably.

“Why?” He looked back up at you again and you were struck with the same thought you always got. How undeniably lovely he was to look at. There was something about Connor that was just calming which might’ve been ironic considering how tormented he always seemed to be.

“Something to do in my free time?” You shrugged. You obviously couldn’t say it was because you wanted to spend more time with him and you definitely couldn’t tell him that you had been harboring a massive crush on him since third grade when he used to walk behind you in line and talk to you.

“I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity, I want to help.”

“Why?”

You shrugged again, “I just want to help.” Because he always seemed like a nice person, beneath everything else. “I was having trouble freshman year, I know how hard it is to catch up.”

“Yeah,” Connor nodded, “fine.”

The first time you tutored Connor was at a Starbucks that was an equal distance between your houses. He showed up in the same black hoodie he always wore with fitted gray sweatpants and a white shirt, a brighter outfit than you’d ever seen him in before. His hair was pulled back and you couldn’t help thinking it was your lucky day because as good as Connor Murphy looked with his hair down he looked even better with his hair out of his face, if only because you could see it.

“Hey,” he nodded and slid into the booth across from you. He eyed the coffee you had sitting amongst your books and he frowned, “none for me?”

“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t sure what you would want so-”

“Yeah, yeah I see how it is,” he replied, grin on his face, “guess I’ll get my own.”

You laughed as you watched him get up and mutter a ‘people these days’ just loud enough for you to hear. When you looked over at the counter, he was watching you, a smile on his face that made him seem a lot less scary than people made him out to be. He winked at you as the barista made his drink and you turned back to your books to hide your smile.

Connor was impossible to study with. He was easily distracted and he got antsy sitting for any length of time. His comprehension was alright and he was smart, that you could tell immediately. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what he was learning it was just that he couldn’t stay still long enough to learn it.

“We’ll be here all day if you don’t pay attention.” You pointed out, leaning forward and tapping the textbook that lay ignored in front of Connor. He was busy doodling pictures in the margins of his notebook, notes half written.

“Sorry, it’s just,” he looked over the government textbook sitting there waiting for him, “a lot.”

“Well-”

“Let’s go for a walk or something?” He asked.

Tempting, you thought. You wouldn’t mind clearing up all these books and walking somewhere with Connor. Getting to talk to him about something other than English analysis or political theory would be nice. You wondered what you would talk about. Just more school or something more? Home life? Hobbies? Likes and dislikes? “Connor, we have to get through this. We’re almost done.” Ten more problems and he was free to go home.

He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking. He was distracted but not as much as you thought he was. It wasn’t impossible for him to sit there and read he just didn’t want to. Besides, he knew the faster he finished the quicker you would leave and then this perfect afternoon at the Starbucks would be ruined. He couldn’t watch the way you pulled the neckline of your sweatshirt over your nose when it got too cold or how you sniffed your coffee each time before you took a sip, as if the smell was just as important as the taste. He couldn’t hear the sound you made when your americano was just a little too warm and burned your tongue or listen to the explanation you had on the perfect temperature for coffee. He’d sat there distracted by you all afternoon and now that there were only ten problems left all he could think about was this being over and him having to go home.

“Just a short break, a change of scenery?” He offered.

“What did you want to change the scenery to?” You asked.

He smiled as you closed your notebook. He was winning. “The park? Or we could just take a drive? I drove my mom’s car here.”

“Okay. I’ll quiz you while we drive?” You offered, packing the rest of your books. You were 99% sure you would do whatever he asked you to.

Connor was a much better driver than you thought he would be. He didn’t speed, he wasn’t careless, he liked to drive with the windows down and take backroads and he kept his eyes forward, trained on the road the whole time. In truth he was more nervous than he thought he would be. He figured driving was a good idea but then he was terrified he’d get distracted. He could see the headline play out ‘local boy drives girl off road after being distracted staring at her’. A little long maybe but appropriate.

“Okay, explain with rationale what political theory makes the most sense for global affairs today?” You asked, notebook open in your lap.

“I thought this was a quiz?”

“It is!”

“That’s like a full blown essay question.” Connor reached for your notebook and you grabbed it back, holding it away from him.

“Eyes on the road mister.” You laughed, “and answer the question.”

Connor pouted, deep in thought as he rolled to a stop at the light. “I don’t know, realism?”

“I need an explanation not just...I don’t know, realism.”

“Haven’t I done enough?” He asked, glancing over at you before the light changed. He wondered how aware you were of how attractive you were.

“Go,” you nodded toward the road and he began driving once more.

“Why’d you offer to help me?”

“I told you, cause I wanted to.” You shrugged.

“How’d you know I needed a tutor?”

“We’re in the same classes and I get very nosey about everyone else’s grades. Besides you sit in front of me so I always see your tests and stuff over your shoulder. That and Evan mentioned it.” You shrugged.

“And you just wanted to bring up the learning curve in our senior class?”

“Oh god no, you know how many people I’d have to tutor?” You laughed.

“So why me?” He asked, frowning, “you just feel bad for the weird freak kid? Figured you could get in some community service?”

“Connor,” you said, your voice sounding...not sympathetic but soft, fond even, “I wanted to tutor you cause I wanted to spend time with you.”

“Don’t fuck with me.”

“I’m not. I like you a lot Connor.” You admitted.

The car pulled off onto the side of the road and Connor put it in park, turning to you. He looked at you seriously, staring at you as he tried to decide if what you were saying was true. Were you actually not lying to him, did you like him? You were smiling like you meant it.

“Yeah?” he chanced, “you aren’t fucking with me?”

“No.” You shook your head.

Connor leaned forward toward you, his hand holding the shoulder of your seat. He crowded into your space and you watched as the sweetest of smiles spread across his face.

More Connor.

#Connor Murphy imagine #Connor Murphy fanfiction #Connor Murphy x reader #Connor Murphy fanfic #deh fanfiction #deh imagine #deh fanfic #deh au #dear Evan hansen imagine #dear Evan hansen au #dear Evan hansen fanfiction #dear Evan hansen fanfic #cs discography series #collecting stories imagine

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chocosvt · 6 years

Text

⚬ pairing: soonyoung x fem!reader. ⚬ word count: 12.8K. ⚬ warnings: drugs, alcohol. ⚬ genres: theme of unrequited love, friends to lovers, romance, a good dosage of angst, fluff to mend your heart, spiciness near the end.

✧✎ synopsis: there are lots of bits and pieces that come with being a best friend and soonyoung is certainly taking his time in figuring them out. was it right for his stomach to somersault at the sound of your laughter? was it normal his smile fell when junhui took your hand? he isn’t exactly sure what a best friend really is, but he’s sure of what it’s not.

✧✎ a/n: this was requested to me awhile ago! anon asked for a hoshi!best friend confession w lots of fluff. but ME being ME. i literally cannot write anything without turning it into some angsty, love-laced, fluffy fuckin roller coaster of ??? so..um.. yes… enjoy!!!

If Soonyoung had one wish, he would – without question – wish to glean the thoughts of others, to understand the precise lettering in their head when he stared them in the eyes. Sure, it was kind of lame in comparison to something like invisibility, the power of flight, a wish for a hundred more wishes, but he didn’t really care about those things because they didn’t apply in any way to the one thing he did truthfully did care about: you.

He knew he was rather eccentric to say the least, and maybe that caused some people to glance at him strangely, develop their own notions concerning his variety of behaviours. Soonyoung knew that you at first saw him that way too, and he was perfectly content with that. However the pathway into your thoughts soon became blurry when your relationship escalated.

Because at this moment you were ‘best friends.’

At least in the premature days of your friendship Soonyoung had been fully certain you thought him to be bizarre and oddly energetic. But things were largely different now. The more you know about a person, the more your head fills and fills with the shiny bits of their character; everything that makes them, well, them.

And sometimes the people you meet are so outstanding that you can’t even pluck one word down from a sky full of twinkling adjectives to describe them. So how was Soonyoung supposed to live comfortably when he looked deep within your eyes and couldn’t read their writing? What did you think of him besides a best friend? Did you ever let your mind wander beyond that? He was itching terribly to see within your mind.

Yet he was equally suppressing a fear that you could perhaps gauge into his own galaxy of notions, that you could fix the constellations together and see how Soonyoung’s thoughts about you delved much further than friendship. Hopefully if a genie ever approached you, you would never pick to have the same wish as him. You were more of the invisibility type anyways.

Soonyoung was a dancer. It built into a passion that burned him hotter than bubbling wax, a compulsion to illustrate an entire story through the art of his movements.

Dancing invited more blessings into his life than setbacks. Twisting an ankle was temporary, but turning the lights off on Lee Chan to hear his high-pitched scream pierce through the practice room walls was forever. Aside from meeting Chan, Soonyoung came to know Minghao, the boy with a knack for photography.

He was always outside the studio at dawn taking pictures of cobwebs that sparkled with dew, or the mute colours belonging to the downtown street as they would blend against a soft, lavender sky. Soonyoung was so extraordinarily close with both boys that he thought it was time to start warming up to the studio’s newest addition, the sharp-featured, broad-shouldered, incredibly long-legged Wen Junhui.

The studio was full today. Chan was busy mounting his iPod to the doc station, Minghao was highly concentrated on tying his sneaker, and even you were there, sitting in a chair off to the corner sipping impetuously from a milk tea and thumbing through your phone. Soonyoung loved having you visit the studio during his training. There was such a prideful glow that encompassed his chest at viewing your complete awe of his performances.

Junhui was the last to arrive. He pulled off his long, wool trench coat and tossed it onto a hook after the duffle bag slid from his shoulder onto the polished floor. Beneath the heavy coat he wore a simple white t-shirt and black sweatpants. When Soonyoung caught a peripheral glimpse of himself in the anterior mirrors, he did a double-take, subsiding with the fact he was wearing exactly the same as Junhui, even down to the stripes along the leg.

There wasn’t much versatility available when it came to practice clothes. It was of course more appropriate if they were loose, comfortable, and breathable. Minghao was usually the one to come in a wide array of outfits since fashion was another dominant area of his life, but still, Soonyoung found his gaze trailing to the mirror a little too frequently to switch between himself and Junhui. He looked at you as well, but you had yet to note Junhui’s presence.

Not that it needed to be a competition.

“So, do you guys just jump in or…? Do you do some stretching, an exercise?” Junhui asked whilst swaying back and forth, his hands awkwardly digging into his hips.

Minghao looked at Chan, but Chan was looking at Soonyoung who was looking at you who was looking at Junhui. It was a mouthful, but the point was that Junhui wore the expression of tiresomely holding a grin much too long for a family photo, desperately waiting for someone to cut the tension and throw him a bone. Soonyoung was sort of the captain who orchestrated the practices, so he took initiative, pulled his gaze from you, and smiled warmly at the newcomer.

“Yeah, we do a bit of stretching first, and play some music to get pumped up. Minghao got you caught up with the choreography for our newest project, right?”

Junhui carded his fingers through his black hair, though the tresses simply flopped back to their initial curtain over his forehead. “Yes,” He then said, “I’ve got it all down.”

“Great,” Soonyoung replied enthusiastically, (he heard your muffled cackle escape the hand tightly woven across your mouth, but chose to ignore you), “Better get started then. How’s the music working, Chan?”

“It’s set up. Do you have any suggestions?”

Soonyoung saw you cross your legs and take a notably loud sip from what remained of your tea. He scoffed playfully at you and inquired, “Do you have a suggestion, [Y/N]?”

“Why yes, I do, thank you for asking,” You responded whilst eyeing him with a composure that suggested you were withholding laughter, “I think that you should play Life is a Highway for your warm-up song.”

Minghao snorted almost too quickly, “You’re so funny.”

“Shut up,” You toed off your flats before tucking your legs close to your chest, “You guys play the same three songs every time. I’m trying to spice up your boring lives.” It was then that your gaze fell upon Soonyoung, and for a split second a tiny, electric jolt smoothed up the length of his spine, the imploring glint of your eyes already sanding away his resistance.

“Please can you play something different, Soonyoung?” You cooed.

Like a wilted flower, he was far too weak to conjure the strength to protest. “Okay, okay,” He agreed, “But it’s Chan’s iPod. He has to have the song.”

“I have a suggestion,” Junhui’s dulcet voice suddenly intervened after remaining quiet amongst the dispute, naming some song Soonyoung had never heard of in his life.

Immediately you squealed from your perch, your hands flailing about, “I love that song!”

Soonyoung heard Junhui’s laughter for the first time, brassy and in short breaths, his face pulling taunt in a wide, ear-to-ear smile that let his teeth and their rosy gums show. You were beaming in Junhui’s direction, babbling on and on about the artist and your love of her music as the boy eagerly nodded and continued brightly laughing. Soonyoung felt his chest tighten, like it was trapped within a balloon that had just popped, the thin plastic pulling so harshly it was almost suffocating. The feeling only became more apparent when he looked between you and Junhui.

“I don’t think I have that song…” Chan mumbled as he flicked through his playlists.

Soonyoung breathed out almost gratefully, “That’s okay, we ca—,”

“I have it actually,” Junhui piped up, “Would you mind using my iPod instead?”

Chan shrugged, “I’ll hook it up for you.”

“Awesome,” Junhui chirped before diving into his duffle bag.

Minghao had finally popped up from the ground and was making his way across the room to grab a water bottle. Soonyoung joined him, and together they hovered at the opposing corner whilst Chan, Junhui and you included swarmed the doc station. Soonyoung couldn’t evade the manner in which his stare adhered to you beside Junhui, how you titled your head up at him, eyes seemingly enchanted.

There was a bitter taste washing into his mouth, though it certainly wasn’t the water. He felt Minghao nudge his shoulder, a warm chuckle then fanning against his ear,

“Careful with Jun, or else you might not have a best friend any longer.”

Soonyoung didn’t possess the right heart to laugh, so he feigned a lousy scoff and began walking toward the centre of the room, the music at last easing through the speakers and echoing between the glossy wood as well as the high ceiling. You returned to your chair, grinning with pleasure and chewing at the straw of your emptied milk tea. Soonyoung was stretching, occasionally tracing his movement in the mirror, though he faced ample distraction.

You usually watched Soonyoung stretch, but now you were watching someone else, and that horrendous, tight feeling in his chest stayed with him throughout all of practice.

Considering that Soonyoung spent nearly an entire day at the dance studio, he was expecting to feel nothing short of fatigue; a particular drowsiness that might tug at his eyelids until it became a chore to keep them locked open. Most days he went to the studio a little earlier than lunch so he could have an excuse to go out on the town and eat with his friends. Besides, they often played nonsensical games, such as whoever tapped the light switch last was the one to pay for the entire meal.

It was usually Chan who lost since he was always occupied with something else whilst his older friends were deciding the game. However, Minghao generously payed the most, taking advantage of a vacant table to call over the server whilst Soonyoung and Chan were discussing the scent of the soap in the washroom.

This particular morning, Soonyoung received a text bright and early from Minghao, his phone vibrating next to his disheveled, spiky hair as an amber spool of sunlight slanted through his curtains. The next thing he knew, he was standing on the bridge just a block down from the studio with Minghao kneeling across the street, setting up what he referred to as ‘an immaculate shot’ of Soonyoung against the sky’s flush, peachy pink colour, illuminated beneath the fire of sun rays.

“I just needed someone to model,” Minghao explained as they walked back to the studio together, “You were one of the first people to come to mind.”

“Awe,” Soonyoung crooned, the faint blush on his cheeks identical to the hue that blotted the sky, “Thanks.”

But then Minghao had to go and throw a bucket of water over Soonyoung’s happiness.

“Next to Junhui. You know, when I first saw him in the studio I wanted to ask if he had ever experimented with modelling. He’s quite defined, like his face was cut from marble or something. He opened up to me a bit when I was catching him up with our dance. He did a lot of acting when he was younger, went to one of the most prestigious schools in Shenzhen, and won first place in a bunch of piano and Wushu competitions. Can you believe that?”

There was that feeling again, that stupid bitter feeling that made itself painfully known by wedging into Soonyoung’s chest like a wooden splinter. He had only walked a short distance from the bridge, but he hardly contained enough breath in his lungs to even sound fascinated or deeply intrigued. Junhui had never given Soonyoung any reason to formulate malice toward him, so why was such a sullen atmosphere suddenly clouding his mood?

“He’s a pretty extraordinary guy,” Soonyoung commended whilst staring straight ahead.

Minghao huffed, sounding marvelled, “No kidding. I mean, yeah, he’s kinda odd, but he’s got a hundred lifetimes beneath all those trench coats. We should invite him to eat with us next time.”

Soonyoung wasn’t properly filtering his thoughts. Suddenly he scoffed, “Yeah, I bet he’s a world class chef too. He’ll just whip up the whole meal from thin air at the drop of a hat.”

Laughter immediately bloomed from Minghao’s chest, the younger then slouching an arm around a stiff Soonyoung’s shoulders and lightly punching him in his side, “I think he has some experience in cooking! Sounds like you need to talk to him more.”

“I think we talk plenty,” Soonyoung earnestly defended whilst steering away from his friend’s grasp, knowing that plenty in his own dictionary meant: ‘as much as I think is necessary, so probably once or twice.’

When Soonyoung was nearing the end of his day at the studio with Minghao, you made the decision to swing by and bring them take-out from a small family business down the street. He was so hungry that hardly any conversation clung to the air apart from slurping, chewing, and drinking noises. Minghao tried to be more civil in his eating, but Soonyoung had known you for so long that he could eat like a starved animal and still meet your warm, adoring gaze afterward.

You then walked back to Soonyoung’s place together, smiling and laughing and haphazardly bumping into each other as day faded into night, fully expecting to receive a brutal shove that made him stumble off the sidewalk in consequence. Whilst Soonyoung took a shower, you threw yourself happily onto his bed, flipping through old comic books that had the particular scent of aged paper and fiddling with his Rubik’s cube that never seemed to change colours apart from when you touched it.

Soonyoung remembered the few times you’d asked him why he kept all this stuff.

He always said something along the lines of, “Oh, y’know, I’m gonna start hoarding now so I can get on TLC,” when in reality it was a far fonder reason that engendered his skin to surge with an embarrassed but candour heat.

He kept them because of you. He was in love with the way you looked when you lay perfectly content across his bed still rumpled from morning, smiling faintly at the fragile, yellowed pages of the old comics he kept on the shelf because you always read them. He was in love with the whittled concentration on your face as you hunched over the Rubik’s cube he won at some spelling bee in the tenth grade, valiantly twisting the cubes, adorably huffing when it was never quite right.

Soonyoung was in love with how you were always patiently waiting for him to emerge from the shower, head poking up from the mattress, your eyes drawn to him as though he were brilliantly glowing. He never got used to the feeling of his heart jumping so profoundly in his chest when you fell asleep beneath his bedsheets either, even when you promised you could stay awake for ten minutes at least as he dried off his hair with a towel.

No matter how many times it had happened, he still felt the same. He still had this feeling that never quieted.

In fact, it blared incessantly when he was with you, demanded to be released because there would come a point when Soonyoung would be incapable of compressing it any longer.

Now that the day was approaching its final chapters, and the sky had bled out its soft, rosy colours into patches of cobalt and dark indigo, Soonyoung wasn’t at all exhausted like he expected. Maybe it was because he had you tucked close against his side, your leg strewn over his lap, your arm curled around his stomach like a tight wire that never lost its shape. He could feel the gentle warmth of your breathing tickle his neck as your head cozied at his shoulder.

Together your eyes were transfixed on the sea of stars that speckled the sky, stretching so far and wide you almost believed you could see the Earth’s curve. It looked like a silk sheet that had been pricked by a thousand pins, leaving tiny breaks of luminescence to shine through from a different world that perhaps constantly glistered with light. A few meters away at the floor of your feet burned a small fire, slowly crackling out its embers.

He was only in his backyard, yet having you pressed so close with entire galaxies looking down on him, Soonyoung felt that he could be in a paradise beyond anyone’s comprehension. It was his paradise, but it only became complete when you were in it with him.

And maybe tonight as you leaned against half an oak trunk, entwined beneath an endless sky and a fire prickling at your feet, its light capturing your expressions like a photo frame, would Soonyoung unearth the courage to confess his heart to you.

“[Y/N],” He hummed, rolling his shoulder gently, “You still awake?”

When you shifted your gaze to blink up at him, your faces were in such proximity that Soonyoung could count each of the golden flames that reflected in your eyes.

“I guess,” You replied, laughing slightly at your own humour, “What’s up?”

This was it, the perfect moment to confess, to put his one wish into action and finally comprehend the pictures your mind illustrated when he intruded your thought. Soonyoung hadn’t planned much to say in advance, he was more about spontaneity, seizing moments as they came rather than charging a current that would never crackle. There was nothing to distract you from each other, just the black sky and cool earth that remained silent as Soonyoung pressed you closer against him with the arm wrapped around your waist.

“Well, actually,” He began, knowing there was quite literally nothing that could make his confession any easier, “I want to tell you something, and I’ve been meaning to say it for a while now, but it’s not like, the simplest thing to tell somebody, especially your best friend, so if it sounds stupid and just totally incoherent then…”

You set your palm on his chest. The very second your stare met his frantic eyes that fluttered faster than a hummingbird’s wings, a weight dropped to the soles of his feet. How was it possible that someone could make him so downright nervous, yet so enamoured and spellbound at the same time? You giggled at how tongue-tied he was. Soonyoung’s laughter mixed with yours, but it was evidently uneasy and oddly breathy and the sincerity of your gaze had brought his heart to pulsate in his throat.

Your brow stitched together as your hand continued to lay on his chest, the mellifluous, innocent chime of your giggles replaced by accumulating concern.

“Gosh, your heart is beating a hundred miles a minute, Soonie. Are you feeling okay?”

No, he fought off the dire urge to scream, but somehow found a single tassel of composure to latch onto. He thought he would be able to elaborate, but then your hand rose from his chest and suddenly your fingertips were brushing softly along his jawline, stroking the sweltering skin with a gaze that could melt thick slabs of titanium. He wasn’t sure if you were attempting to calm him, but it certainly did the exact opposite.

You appeared so innocent beneath the moonlight, yet the fire’s orange glow ignited half your face with such an intense beauty he could hardly break his desire to kiss you right then and there.

Okay, Soonyoung thought, I know what I’m going to say. He’d swallowed the remaining taste of his fear, nodded confidently, and took your hand that sweetly grazed his jaw to hold within his own grasp. But then—

Something buzzed in your jean pocket. And then it buzzed again, and again, and again. You heavily sighed whilst fishing for the device, a lurid sheen bathing your face as you separated from Soonyoung to check your messages. His entire chest thundered to the floor, shattering as though it were a glass vase, his confidence and composure instantly seeping away like the water inside that once gave life to the vase’s beautiful flowers.

When you turned back to look at him, an apologetic glimmer in your eyes, Soonyoung had this sinking feeling his confession wasn’t meant to be tonight.

“I forgot I asked Junhui to pick me up. He’s waiting out front.”

Soonyoung nearly choked. “Junhui’s picking you up? Usually I drive you home.”

“I know, I know,” You replied quietly whilst staring into your lap, “But I thought you would be tired after such a long day, I didn’t want to bother you. Besides, Junhui was really happy to do it, you should have seen him.”

As much as Soonyoung yearned to argue, he wasn’t about to leave what was once a perfect and spectacular night on an unpleasant note. He simply nodded. Your heat that had encompassed his body drifted away into the night as he grabbed the pail next to the fire, silently dousing out the entrancing flames and glowing embers in a tiny hiss. He saw your frown when he set the pail down and led you inside, your arms folded over your chest as the cold air suddenly nipped into your skin.

“That thing you wanted to tell me,” You murmured whilst standing at the doorway to his front porch, “How important was it? Can it wait?”

Soonyoung opened the door for you, smiling half-heartedly as you ducked under his arm and waved at Junhui who had the car running at the end of the driveway. Figuring he should wave too, Soonyoung gave a lousy toss of his hand, this cloud that was heavy and depressing growing denser and denser in his chest by the second.

“It can wait.” Soonyoung really had no other choice but to make that his verdict.

You smiled meekly at him, giving his cheek a small pat before stepping off the porch, hands delving into your pockets as Junhui popped from the driver’s seat to open the passenger door for you. Soonyoung observed how the contours of your face brightened when looking up at Junhui, how your laughter was already echoing into the crisp, chilled air. He wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling that rung through his body at watching you two together.

Soonyoung could only think of the once brilliant fire that lost its heat, its strength, to the wave of water that snuffed out its radiance in a mere second.

Maybe he felt something like that.

Soonyoung sat on a patchy green sofa that had at least four broken springs, ten coffee stains, and twenty-five burnt circles from cigarette ashes, feeling the lowest he had ever felt in his life. He kept purloining Minghao’s silver flask of cranberry vodka and partial gin to take quick, impetuous gulps, hating how the alcohol hardly stung his throat because he was just so damn numb to everything. The party was probably approaching its climax, yet in lieu of enjoying the raw energy Soonyoung was stuck on the stoner’s couch.

Minghao was next to him, but not because he wanted to be. He was simply cognizant to the fact that when Soonyoung let his melancholy consume him, he became even more unpredictable and his behaviour could spike at any given moment. Minghao would rather not get trapped in the whirlwind of his friend’s rage, though he figured he could keep him settled with more vodka if that storm were to start brewing.

Wonwoo orchestrated the stoner’s corner like it was his own business, constantly offering the use of his chrome grinder and organizing his rolling papers in case anyone had the instant urge for a hit. He offered Soonyoung a joint at least three times already. Minghao had declined each invitation for him since the sole thing Soonyoung did was unresponsively stare into the distance, but on the fourth attempt, he finally seemed to break from his musing and accept it.

Using the elder’s lighter, Soonyoung leaned forward with the blunt between his index and middle finger, giving sharp little sparks to the end of the paper until it began to slowly crisp. It had been awhile since he’d last gotten high, but the wispy curls of smoke he exhaled off his lips transiently distracted him from what he’d been blankly staring at. You and Junhui were situated at the base of the staircase across the room, looking with very evident ardour into each other’s eyes, smiling, flirtatiously brushing the other’s cheek or arm.

You were dating him, had been for the past six months.

Well, at least now Soonyoung knew what had been most occupying your thoughts, and it certainly wasn’t him. That initial jab to the chest when you first gushed to him about your new relationship with Junhui was absolutely one-hundred percent terrible. He didn’t think the pain could get much worse. But then the hole in his chest where that jab struck began slowly collecting with this estranged poison. As it filled and filled, the poison seeped and seeped, spreading throughout his body with the burning sensation of a wildfire.

The fire seemed to irreparably char his nerves.

In the beginning it unbearably hurt Soonyoung to see Junhui hug you, kiss you, stroke his fingertips down to your hip before pulling you tightly against his body. But then he noticed himself feeling nothing at those same sights that used to be so painful; there wasn’t even a crackle, a fizzle or a hiss. If he were to glean one feeling, it was emptiness. As he blew the smoke in gentle puffs from his mouth, alcohol scorching hot in his veins, Soonyoung found himself looking at you again.

He supposed that beneath the ashes his heart still beat, and it still beat because it refused to give up on how he felt about you.

He darkly eyed the flask in Minghao’s lap.

“Give me that,” the boy suddenly barked at his friend.

“Are you sure?” Minghao posed with concern, watching Soonyoung eagerly take another hit off his joint before he left it on the coffee table’s ash tray. “Do you want to step outside for a minute maybe? Get some fresh air?”

Soonyoung growled, “Just give me the fucking flask.” He’d already swiped it from his lap, hastily spinning the cap off and taking a long, deep gulp of whatever alcohol remained.

He didn’t even grimace after shoving the flask back into Minghao’s grip, instead scratched a hand through his thick, black hair, further disarraying the strands. Wonwoo had pretty much rolled over in his seat at this point, counting invisible sheep that jumped on the ceiling, and everyone else occupying the stoner’s corner was too blazed beyond coherence to even take note of Soonyoung’s sudden aggression.

Minghao opened his mouth, then silently closed it, following Soonyoung’s clouded gaze to where Junhui had you pressed against the wall, hands slowly squeezing down past your hips to the black fabric of your pleated skirt.

The manner in which your fingers slowly plunged through Junhui’s hair and tugged wantonly at the strands suggested what your mouths were busy with. It certainly was far from conversation. Maybe then Minghao understood what was racing through his friend’s mind as he rose from the couch, using Minghao’s shoulder to steady himself.

“Be right back,” Soonyoung mumbled, not squandering another breath as he weaved his way between small congregations, leaving Minghao to sit on the couch in slight bewilderment whilst the cogs turned in his head.

Feeling emboldened, Soonyoung marched right up to Junhui’s broad backside, an unusual calmness steadfast in his blood even when he could hear the way you softly moaned against the boy’s plump mouth. It could have been the alcohol, it could have been the intoxicating aroma of the blunt still lingering in the dense air, or it could have been the fact that Soonyoung just didn’t fucking care anymore. He was determined that this would be the night he at long last confessed his heart to you.

“W-What?” Junhui stuttered when Soonyoung tapped his shoulder, turning around in a disoriented fashion, his eyes lasciviously hooded and lips shiny.

You appeared to recognize Soonyoung before Junhui had. Surprise leapt across your face like a tidal wave, and whilst Junhui was still processing that someone had interrupted his make-out session, you were harshly swallowing, appearing overwrought beneath the dim lighting.

“Can I talk to you outside?” Soonyoung said very firmly, making it clear he was speaking to you and you only by gently grabbing your wrist.

You licked your lips, eyes darting between your boyfriend and Soonyoung, seemingly unsure on whether you should agree or not. Soonyoung was well aware of the fact he most likely reeked of alcohol and marijuana, his hair was completely strewn in every direction, his gaze not the clearest nor was his patience concretely stable, yet he still prayed that above his manic state you would be able to connect with him. He needed you to share a moment of your time now more than ever.

“Please,” Soonyoung implored, hardly able to care about the desperation rife in his words, “It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Junhui parted the lust curtain draping across his concentration, finally seeming to acknowledge the situation. Well, more like the situation he was more or so not included in.

It was then, as your hand fidgeted to properly hold Soonyoung’s, fingers fitting like puzzle pieces between his own that the boy knew he’d gotten his wish. You stepped away from the wall your body was once pressed against a mere minute ago, quickly stroking Junhui’s cheek whilst murmuring into his ear, “I’ll be right back. Sit tight.”

Junhui blinked a bit mistily, but nodded, allowing Soonyoung to guide you out the front door where the cool night air dusted his skin and refreshed his senses. There weren’t many people out front. A majority of them were walking along the end of the road, talking on their cellphones, presumably calling someone to pick them up or asking a friend where they were parked along the line of blinking car lights.

Soonyoung didn’t want to be too close to the house, nor did he want to be right at the curb. He just wanted to place enough distance between himself and the party that he could hear his own thoughts. You didn’t start asking questions until Soonyoung pulled you beneath the overhanging leaves of a willow tree near the property’s edge, your eyes glistening in disconcertment against the darkness, fingers wrapped around Soonyoung’s hand so tightly that he could feel his circulation dwindling.

“S-Soonyoung,” He heard the dry gulp between your words, “What are we doing out here?”

He then let go of your hand. Instead, he cupped your cheek, caressing in slow, gentle passes along the heated arch using his thumb. It was like the entire world became shrouded in silence as his touch grazed your skin, burning profoundly, with the strength of a catastrophic supernova.

“I’m in love with you.” He spoke softly. The words sounded vastly different aloud in lieu of in his head.

Your expression marginally twitched.

“I-I… What did you just say?”

“I know that sounds so fucking weird for you to hear,” Soonyoung murmured, his thumb pulling back to rub circles upon the sweet spot just in front of your ear, “And I know I couldn’t have picked a worse time but… I’m just so sick of pretending like I don’t look at you every day, wishing I could be more to you. I need you to hear this. I just—I need you to know how I feel about you.”

Soonyoung couldn’t help himself. He’d never felt this consumed by your beauty. Titling your head back, Soonyoung admired you, allowed himself to mellow in the firm warmth of your cheek beneath his palm, how he could only wish to have you closer and whisper everything about you in which he was infatuated by. Every little secret he’d kept hidden over the years, he wanted to tell you all of them, place kisses on your skin in the places that made you tick between each confession.

A breeze then whispered between the swaying fronds of the willow. It delightfully swept upon Soonyoung’s skin and transiently cooled the raging pulse that was practically electric in his veins.

Perhaps he was entranced, but you were a gigantic question mark. Your lips were parted, yet they made no sound. He could feel your pulse thundering behind your ear, yet you stood so still. Never seeing your expression like this before, Soonyoung could only breathe with the faintest rise in his chest. Evidently you were lost, you were panicking, and your eyes were screaming at him with everything he couldn’t read.

Eventually you budged. Your hand rose up and your fingers wrapped around his wrist. The touch could have been everything Soonyoung wanted most in the world.

“Why are you saying this? It’s because you’re drunk isn’t it? Or you’re just high. You have to be, or else... Or else I don’t understand…”

But instead that touch pulled Soonyoung’s comfortable palm from your face and returned it to his side.

“It’s not because – I mean yes, I am a little drunk and a little high – but I’m being completely one-hundred percent serious right now.”

The sheen of your gaze was noticeably lacquering, “You mean as a friend though, right?”

With every word that pursed at your lips, Soonyoung felt his hopes deflating.

“No, not as a friend. I want to be more than friends,” He found himself being verbose, but he couldn’t help in expressing his heart, every sentiment he’d locked inside it for as long as he could remember. His words, they openly flowed, the heat that inhabited his body mounting. “I want to be with you. I want to take you out on dates, wake up next to you, kiss you at the end of every day. I want to be the only person who’ll ever get to touch you, make you breathless but so, so happy. I’m in love with you.”

Emotions repressed to the deepest whorls of his being were welling up within him like rainwater, “What isn’t clicking?”

“What isn’t clicking?” You were beyond flustered repeating his question, soaked in pure bewilderment that clasped onto you, made you involuntarily rigid and tightly wound. “What do you expect me to say to that, Soonyoung? What are you expecting to happen?”

He tangled a hand through his hair, burying his fingers close to the scalp so that it stung and kept him grounded. “I… I don’t know. But I can’t keep it inside anymore.” A look of pain slotted across his face. “I even tried confessing to you that night we were together in my backyard, with the campfire. But it didn’t work out. Even before then I’ve wanted to say something—anything to you, but it’s just so petrifying and I’d never had anyone make me feel that nervous before.”

You were no longer holding eye contact. Your stare was glossing the grass, the stray tatters of dry leaves that had blown in from old wind, your body frozen from how overwhelmed you were feeling. It was only mere seconds that trickled past, though it felt like agonizing hours before you spoke again. Your voice was as strong as tattered cloth, nothing but wisps struggling to remain together.

“But why wait?... I-It’s just that... That you waited so long— ,”

“It’s really not easy, y’know?” Soonyoung chuckled, though it crumbled away in seconds, in the time it took his hand to collapse back at his side. “Having to pretend that you’re not in love with someone? That fucking eats away at you, [Y/N]. It’s the reason I’m telling you this. I just... I don’t want to be miserable anymore, thinking I’ll stop feeling this way about you when I know how untrue that is, when you’re on my mind twenty-four fucking seven and I can’t even sleep because of it.”

There was this sensation pushing at his tear ducts, incredibly hot, scalding even, but he was able to blink it away. However, perhaps you weren’t as tuned at concealing your emotions. A sniffle suddenly pervaded the silence and Soonyoung saw you wipe your hand beneath your eye, your stature shrinking inward akin to a flower kept hidden from the sun.

“I-I’m sorry, Soonyoung. I didn’t know you felt this way… I didn’t know it was bringing you all this pain and I—,” Your tongue peaked out to wet your lips as your fists clenched, nails burying upon the fragile flesh like crescent daggers, “I don’t know what to say to you. I-I don’t. I’m so fucking sorry. I just don’t have the words right now.”

In an instant his expression earnestly softened.

“Hey, c’mon,” He cooed whilst pulling down his sleeve to dot the first tear that had slipped down your cheek, glistening like a little pearl. He knew in the case of a sober Soonyoung, it would be impossible for him to formulate malice toward you because you couldn’t reciprocate his feelings. As elated as he would be for you to return the sentiment, there was still much for you to process.

However, with the weight of the alcohol and the intoxication of the blunt, he was far from sober. He could feel it dragging him down, could feel disarray teetering at his brain’s forefront like a performer balancing on a tightrope.

“It’s not at all your fault, okay?”

Yet he did his best to soothe you, to flatten the creases of your pain. Soonyoung moved timidly, unsure of whether he should pull you into an embrace, but as you sniffled once more and clutched the sleeves of his hoodie in need, he was gliding his arms around your neck, gently resting your head against his shoulder where he knew you were bound to find solace.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart.” Sounded his tender murmur.

It almost felt like a dream, the fact he could stand here with you forever, beneath the slight rustling of willow branches brushed silver and the cool air that ghosted his skin in the gentlest reassurance. Clocks were turning, though the world certainly felt still where you were standing, seconds adding up into minutes as your hair tickled his nose and made Soonyoung smile to himself.

But there persistently remained a shadow prowling at his awareness, the live wires that sparked his senses becoming increasingly dull as the alcohol and marijuana burrowed deeper into his blood. For a fleeting moment he felt like he could be floating, almost as though his body were more weightless than the air sweeping his flushed face. Soonyoung suddenly wobbled. At first you didn’t seem to pay much attention, until his condition then veered toward the inevitable and he swayed slightly before leaning a little too far into you.

Soonyoung felt you shift in his arms.

“Are you okay?” You squeaked, but he couldn’t focus on even a single sector of your body as the rush to his head continued pumping. All Soonyoung registered was that you had stepped away from him.

“M’fine,” Came his slurred response. He stumbled a few misplaced steps toward you before finding his footing. Whatever composure and reason he once possessed, it was slipping, fast.

Your hands gripped his shoulders to steady him. Peaking up at him, watery-eyed and innocent, your mouth then opened. For a split second Soonyoung believed he was truthfully going to hear those three words echo quietly to him and his blood began boiling hot enough to bend metal, the world slightly spinning beyond your frame. Yet instead you were stepping away.

All that remained attached was your hand in his.

“Soonyoung, listen, you need to reunite with Minghao. Those drinks, whatever it was that you smoked, it’s getting to you, alright? We should really go back insid—,”

“Are you in love with me?” He blatantly interrupted, blinking widely and unconsciously speaking louder than beforehand.

Soonyoung watched as your mouth slowly gaped, heard the fluttering of a sentence catch in your throat. It seemed that very meticulously, you were choosing what to say.

“I... I love you but, not in the way that... I mean, I think you’re a really, really phenomenal friend, Soonyoung, and I value what we ha—,”

An impulsive flare whirled to life inside him. The sole thing that seized his body to the same amount as his alcohol and half-smoked joint were his emotions. He couldn’t evade how he cut you off, the words that catapulted from his tongue so distanced from what he would have said in his right mind.

“Don’t do that,” His voice sounded like it was going to split, heart plummeting faster than an anchor to its sand bed beneath the sea, “Y’know I want to be so much fucking more than that. I-I want you, need you, please.”

“I know, Soonyoung, and I wish more than anything that I had the words for you,” You unsteadily warbled, your lips trembling whilst an unprecedented type of hurt cracked between your words, “ I’m so, so sorry, but I just… I-I can’t. I’m with Junhui, and I’m committed—,”

Soonyoung sharply squeezed your hand, an abrupt, indignant pain welting on his tongue, “Y’re with him? When you walked away from getting fucked to be out here with me? With him but y-you’re always staying the night at my place... Fall asleep n’my bed, wear my sweaters in your underwear, kick your legs over my lap so you can have my h-hands on your skin. Say you’re with him but what do you really feel?”

“What are you doing?” A hiss ruptured your voice and the tone drastically flipped. “I’m still out here with you because I genuinely care about your feelings and want to hear you out. You’re the one trying to force this narrative that I don’t actually want to be with Junhui. How do you know what I’m feeling, Soonyoung? How do you expect me to walk back into that fucking party and face my boyfriend knowing my best friend just said he’s in love with me?”

Fingers sheathing tightly into the skin of your hand, he pulled you back into him, looking you square in the eyes. He saw how they pooled with constellations of emotion and turmoil, and they might have looked strikingly similar to his own if it weren’t for the alcohol masking the dark ore of his gaze, the lingering potency still settling from his joint.

“How do I know what you’re feeling? I know because I’m your best friend. I know you better than Junhui ever will.”

With your chin pointed up at him, leaning in so close Soonyoung could see the slight bruising on your lips from Junhui’s kisses, he had to fend off the overwhelming urge to cup your face in his hands – to do exactly what Junhui had done when your body was flush against that wall. Soonyoung wouldn’t care if Junhui walked outside and saw either, if the entire party rushed from within the house to watch his lips connect with yours beneath the willow tree.

Still, he knew there was no way he’d won your heart. In fact, through the thickening of his daze, he knew he’d made everything ten times worse. Instead you huffed at him, snapped your hand free, and whipped around with word that Minghao would be sent to fetch him. You abandoned him beneath the moonlight’s solemn rays, the canopy of drooping branches that enclosed him akin to a metal cage.

The most agonizing part of it all – Soonyoung having to accept the fact that maybe he didn’t know you as well as he thought he did, that all his wishes seemed to crumble when he needed their magic most.

“It’s almost ten o’clock. Did Junhui forget to roll out of bed or something?”

Chan was lying on the shiny hardwood, his arms stretched out behind him whilst he stared into the ticking clock above the mirrors. There had never been a time where Junhui was late to practice at the studio. He didn’t exactly prefer waking up at nine in the morning, which he made very apparent in his texts to the group chat, sending bathroom pictures of himself angrily brushing his teeth with his hair still spiked up on one side from his pillow.

No one really knew how to respond to the pictures. Soonyoung used to say he only sent them despite just having flopped out of bed because he thought he looked good.

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung replied from his sitting position against the wall, using the outlet next to the coatrack to charge his phone, “Maybe he forgot to turn on his alarm.”

Chan sighed heavily and got to his feet, “Well, I don’t feel like waiting around. We can start the warmup without him.” He then mumbled something about getting his iPod set up, along with listing more reasons as to why Junhui could be late.

Soonyoung wasn’t sure, and he wasn’t really listening either. He hadn’t gotten a message from you in the past couple days, therefore drawing out this strange obsession that included him ceremoniously checking his phone for something that wasn’t even there. Before his confession at the party last month, you messaged Soonyoung quite frequently.

Before you started a serious relationship with Junhui, you had texted him every day.

The bond between you undoubtedly shifted, and Soonyoung believed that the world hadn’t felt like a real place since he poured his heart out to you beneath the weeping willow. When you whipped around and thundered back inside, Soonyoung remained outdoors, staring at the soil your presence had occupied mere seconds ago, unable to feel the cool breeze feather at his cheeks or hear Minghao’s shouts of his name when you had approached him spitting fury.

Word spilt before it even had the chance to be trapped.

Like sand grains slipping through a tight fist, it appeared that everyone and their dog was cognizant of Soonyoung’s confession, his little crush that actually wasn’t a crush at all, but a deep, profound love that he couldn’t ever seem to make tangible. You couldn’t even stand next to each other outside the entrance to the lecture hall or sit next to the other on the bus without the knowing gazes splaying across your skin. A few times you’d both gotten unbearable jokes. “Just kiss her already!” or, “I hope you’re being loyal, huh?”

They would always smile ear-to-ear afterward; crinkle their noses before swinging their hand like it was no big deal, saying, “Oh, I’m just kidding!,” As if the air between you wasn’t already thick enough to slice through like butter.

Of course, this concluded that Junhui caught wind of the details concerning that party and its events, in which Soonyoung had indeed unabashedly confessed to his girlfriend beneath crisp moonlight, surrounded by the shimmering locks of an almost fairy tale-looking tree, hands holding hands and breaths so close they mingled. It sounded quite romantic and definitely something to be alarmed about.

However, Soonyoung made the decision to pull Junhui aside before their first practice after the party to explain that he shouldn’t worry, that you were completely infatuated by Junhui and that his presence in your life was a far greater focus than Soonyoung’s own presence. It was inexplicably awkward, especially as Junhui only looked at Soonyoung with impassive, blinking brown eyes and a parted mouth.

“It’s okay,” Junhui told him, “I’m not scared that she would run off with you or anything.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung responded, firmly slapping him on his broad shoulder, “Definitely not. You guys are great. I just want to put this behind us.”

But Soonyoung never really truthfully, “put it behind him.” He was still in love with you to an extent that couldn’t fit within the universe. It was indescribable. His confession merely scratched the surface of what he truly felt, yet love could be such a complexity that it was best demonstrated through actions rather than words. Well, that’s what Soonyoung learned at least – his words had certainly not been enough. He could only continue to support you as a friend, even if it felt akin to a knife twisting through his heart at times.

Spiraling back to the present, Soonyoung finally looked elsewhere rather than his phone as Minghao returned from the washroom, stretching his arms high above his head. He paused at the corridor, taking in the brightness of the studio as sunlight shone through the windows.

“So, he’s really not coming, huh?” Minghao rasped as he continued his stretching.

Chan was still focusing on the doc station, scrolling through the playlists on his iPod. “Are you talking about Junhui?”

“Yeah,” Minghao sighed, speaking presumably, like Chan and Soonyoung were already supposed to know the reason for Junhui’s absence.

“Did he text on the group chat?” Chan asked.

Minghao’s brow suddenly pinched together, his face hollowing, “Uh… No, he sent it to me only. But—Oh my god! That means you don’t know what happened!”

Soonyoung then felt his phone buzz in his hand.

“What?!” Chan exclaimed after tearing his attention away from his music, entranced like a little child witnessing a magic trick, except the magic was replaced with modern day drama, “Tell me! What happened?”

Peering down at the white light of his phone screen, Soonyoung nearly choked, his eyes opening wide and gleaming almost skeptically as he repetitively read the message, scanned the ID of the person who had sent it to him. Minghao begun speaking quietly, his voice shushed, as though the information he possessed was extremely confidential and ears all over the nation were intently listening.

However, Soonyoung knew he couldn’t stay; in fact he was already leaping to his feet whilst Minghao beckoned Chan over and said,

“Well, Junhui and [Y/N]… They broke up last night. And to make matters worse, Junhui was planning on saying the L word too.”

Chan gulped, “Love?”

“Yeah,” Minghao solemnly nodded, “But, I don’t know, she broke it right off in the middle of his confession. He’s devastated and that’s as much as I know. I figured he wouldn’t show up to practice.”

“Wow…” Chan touched his fingers to his lips, wearing a highly perplexed expression as he seemed to entre a personal musing. But then he was calling for Soonyoung who was in the midst of hastily wriggling on his pullover, grabbing for his duffle bag at the same time.

“Soonyoung, did [Y/N] say anything to you about—Hey! Where are you going?”

His head suddenly popped free from the collar, a hand ruffling out the black fibres of his hair as Soonyoung quickly glanced down at his phone.

“Something came up,” He coughed into his fist, “I probably won’t be back. I’ll explain everything later!”

Minghao hardly grasped the chance to bark out, “What the hell are you talking about?” Before his friend had shot straight like a bullet toward the door, practically toppling onto the sidewalk and grunting an impetuous apology to some lady he ran into. Soonyoung felt the burning singe of his friends’ eyes (not to mention the lady herself) at the back of his neck, watching him dart away from studio without a clue as to what provoked this unprecedented urgency.

All they had to understand was that he would explain himself in the future.

All that Soonyoung had to understand was one simple thing.

[Y/N | 9:58am]: can you come over? please. i need you.

He knew he was a bit late the second he arrived at your porch, the wooden, faded blue steps creaking beneath his weight and his heart ferociously pumping. Soonyoung brushed a hand against his sore ribcage as he knocked on the door, waiting in an anxious coalescence of overwrought nerves and a budding hopefulness. On his way over he’d passed by his own house, which prompted Soonyoung’s decision to shove his duffle bag through his bedroom window to discard the troublesome weight.

However, he then had a small epiphany, found himself climbing and squirming through to grab something that he was unable to leave without.

The doorknob jiggled.

Soonyoung stood in the sweetened, morning air, the birdsong turning into blurred background noise as his breath hitched and the moisture in his throat dried up, waiting for you to appear. Though when the door at last swung open and the sunlight twinkled in the wet depths of your eyes, the sight reminded him of why he charged here in utmost determination. A mess stood before him to put it kindly, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes – so distraught that your lips quivered, bitten bright like rubies, so emotionally drained that once glossy tear tracks turned to matte patterns on your cheeks.

Defeat had spun you around its orbit for far too long. You couldn’t even speak, just glanced at Soonyoung and hiccuped in the preluding fashion of a sob.

Immediately he’d stepped past the doorframe – every bittersweet word of his confession, every aching memory of your relationship with Junhui, every argument you’d ever had completely erased from his mind. Soonyoung solely focused on your comfort, planting his gentle hands against your cheeks, massaging away the damp film that slowly reformed beneath the sore skin of your eyes. His thumbs picked up the tiny, glistering beads and swept each one away.

Your fingers shakily kneaded into his waist, twisting the thick fabric of his pullover as though it would absorb and alleviate your pain.

“You’re okay,” Soonyoung lilted softly, “I promise you’re okay. I’ve got you now, and everything’s gonna be alright.”

Despite your strength being quite meek at the moment, Soonyoung could feel the loop your arms formed around his waist had infinitesimally tightened. Your body surged with the faintest flicker of energy as he rubbed his thumbs upon the warm skin of your temples, pressing a kiss to the space between your brows. As you breathed in tatters, the unstable warmth ghosting at his neck, Soonyoung kissed the space again, this time his touch lasting a bit longer, the tautness of your frame that was like a crossbow slowly loosening.

“S-Soonyoung,” He heard you breathlessly croak whilst blinking at him wetly, “W-What’s w-wrong with me?”

Soonyoung gave your face tender squeeze, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that soaked from between your lashes, “What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with you, baby.”

But you immediately shook your head, a hiccup sounding at the back of your throat as you grabbed onto his waist harder. “No, no, no,” You chanted, “Please don’t lie, Soonyoung. I hurt you a-and then I h-hurt J-Junhui. That’s all I do a-and I don’t know why. Why do I do this?”

He sighed, the strained cadence and desperation in your voice newly pronounced to his ears. This state of agony you’d wilted into was uncharted territory for Soonyoung – he had to be careful and delicate with his choice of wording. After sticking his arm out to close the door, he took a light grip on your chin using his index finger and thumb, pointing your face upward where he could examine your expression in clarity. You had inflicted pain into his life, yet he could never get angry at you for it.

“Try not to be so rough with yourself. You’re a gorgeous, strong girl, and people are going to fall for that, okay?” Soonyoung humoured slightly, knowing that was merely a sliver of the reasons he’d fallen for you. Still, there remained a serious nuance in his tone. “People are going to come into your life, they’re going to evoke feelings from you, and you’ll evoke feelings from them. Just because those feelings don’t always match up, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you.”

His thumb stretched out to stroke your jaw, his gaze warm, flaring in amber hues reminiscent of honey.

“You have so much time to discover what you want in your partner. They’re gonna come along one day and sweep you right off your feet, all these things you worry about will turn to dust. I know that for a fact, trust me. But for now, please just focus on yourself, sweetheart. You need some time to heal, alright?”

A cast of sunlight shafted through the glass on the door, pooling in a melted, golden stroke across your face. Audibly you gulped and sniffled, blinking at Soonyoung against the heat of the sun’s ray before returning back to his shoulder, your nose softly pressed to his neck where he could feel that your breaths had exponentially calmed. He smiled, his palm rubbing up and down along your spine, gently easing whatever small sobs you had left into open air. It wasn’t until your arms loosened around his waist and your voice quietly rustled by his cheek that he stopped.

“S-Soonyoung,” You feebly squeaked his name.

“Yeah?”

“Do you… Do you have something in your, um, pocket?”

That’s when it came to him. His face lit up as he dug his hand into the pocket of his pullover, your expression incredibly perplexed as Soonyoung pulled out his Rubik’s cube.

“I do actually,” He chuckled, “This thing! I had to run by my house to come here, and I had my dance bag with me. So I just shoved it through my bedroom window. But then I saw my Rubik’s cube and thought… Well… I dunno really. Maybe it would like, relax you or something since you’ve always liked playing with it. It doesn’t make a lot of sense when I say it out loud.”

He spilt into a wide smile at hearing your laughter. Maybe it trembled slightly and foretold the start of a deep exhaustion, but it allowed Soonyoung’s heart to feel less heavy.

“No, it makes sense,” You giggled, pawing beneath your nose, “I just— I can’t believe you would think to bring that.”

Soonyoung shrugged, speaking with such casualness as he said, “Well, I’m always thinking of you, so.”

Your mouth opened slightly for a transient moment, revealing nothing but a black diamond gap until you seemed to shake away whatever thought plagued your mind. You took the Rubik’s cube from Soonyoung and then looked back into the corridor, sniffling whilst you touched the wall with your hand before sinking down to sit on the floor. Without having to think, Soonyoung slouched down snug beside you, shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.

Already you were working the different panels with a dexterous speed. Leaning his head against the wall, Soonyoung watched silently, though enjoyed thoroughly. The silence was tranquil and continued as the sun began etching higher and higher into the eggshell blue of the sky, a dusty sea illuminated in warm, caressing light as floating particles shone through the glass door.

He felt a faint weight on his shoulder, peeked down to see you resting against him.

Swallowing as discreetly as he could, Soonyoung harnessed the courage to set his hand on your bare knee, his lips curling when you didn’t protest, just continued to fiddle and experiment with the cube. However, his lungs were teetering on the edge of shriveled leather as you momentarily paused your game to grab his wrist, move his hand higher up your soft, smooth skin until you placed his touch at the inside of your thigh. White speckles tingled in his peripheral vision. He wanted to pinch himself just to ensure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel better?” Soonyoung asked whilst peeping at the game from above your head, squeezing the warm skin of your thigh reassuringly.

There was a pause the scope of a heartbeat.

“Stay.” You then replied.

So he did exactly that.

It was a somewhat late night at the studio, a couple rotations past nine o’clock, the streets slowly but surely beginning to teem as most prepared to embark on a Friday night escapade. Minghao had gotten out of the shower fairly quickly, but Chan must have aimed to dawdle or maybe take a nap beneath the soaking hot water and webs of steam. There was hardly any heat left, even when Soonyoung cranked the handle all the way to the right, into the red section.

Still, it felt rejuvenating to peel the sticky clothes from his skin that had once adhered like paper-mâché and stand beneath the water, his eyes closed, hair swept back from his face, hands gliding and scrubbing the ache from his muscles. Minghao had come up with the idea to go out and dine, so whilst Soonyoung would usually be at home at this point, snuggling into bed, probably thinking about he could fall asleep so much easier with you in his arms, he was instead getting ready to stuff his face.

Not that he would ever complain about such a thing.

Roughly two weeks had passed since Soonyoung cradled you in his arms, your tears absorbing into the fabric of his pullover, a hand soothing down your spine in an attempt to crease out your self-loathing. Two weeks had passed since you sat together in the corridor, his gaze trained to how you maneuvered his Rubik’s cube, almost on the brink of solving its puzzle until there was a single panel that didn’t match and you huffed in sheer frustration. The cube was still sitting on your dresser.

Soonyoung never bothered asking for it back. He figured you could make much better use of it than he ever would. Little by little, it felt like your friendship was padding its way back to its golden era, where life wasn’t so serious and there wasn’t this attribute of stiltedness whenever you were alone together. Junhui seemed to be feeling better too. He started arriving at practices a week after the break up, though it was impossible to truly read the writing on his heart. He was an actor after all. Maybe he was just immaculate at hiding his truths.

Unsurprisingly so, Soonyoung’s utter affections for you remained unyielding. When he believed you had attained remarkable stability back into your life, he made sure you were aware of this, in which his emotions were quite possibly never going to change. He wanted to make sure you were okay with everything – that you were okay with his thoughts about you, what he felt when he looked at you, that his desire to have you wasn’t something that imbued discomfort.

Soonyoung remembered telling you this by his campfire as you stargazed together, except there had been no interruptions.

Once he’d gotten out from the shower with a towel rubbing his hair dry, he could faintly hear the muffled conversation shared between Minghao and Chan.

They were speaking quietly, which Soonyoung found rather peculiar considering there was no one else occupying the studio apart from the three of them. He swore that your name as well as Junhui’s had popped up multiple times in the same sentence. Soonyoung was completely aware both you and Junhui were going to be at the dinner. Sure, it was off-putting and questionable, but you were mature and would know not to start anything to create an awkward atmosphere.

Hell – Soonyoung thought that even Wonwoo was invited.

However, Soonyoung’s curiosity was far too puissant. He couldn’t evade pressing his ear against the door, a smirk prancing up his lips as he strained to hear the conversation. It couldn’t be that fucking terrible, probably something about how it would be a little unsettling to have you and Junhui in such proximity.

But then—Oh no, Soonyoung’s jaw had bloomed with rust, nearly unhinging from its bone and clattering to the floor.

“Why are we whispering again?”

“Shh! Chan if you don’t lower your fuh— I mean fabulous voice, I said I was going to explain!”

“Sorry.”

“I-I have some news, but don’t start yelling, okay? Anyways, [Y/N] isn’t meeting us here and walking to dinner with us anymore.”

“What? Why?”

“Well… She’s going to Junhui’s apartment before instea—would you pick your mouth up off the floor? She’s going over to Junhui’s apartment beforehand.”

“How did you find that out?”

“Junhui told me. She texted him and said she wanted to come over.”

“Do you think she wants to get back together? Maybe she changed her mind and does love him. ”

“I have no clue, Channie. I really have no clue. But Junhui’s had some stuff he’s really wanted to say to her. Maybe they’ll come to the dinner as a couple, maybe not.”

“Damn, this is going to destroy Soonyoung. I… I—,”

“I know, and that’s exactly why we’re not going to say anything to him. We shouldn’t assume. We’re not going to assume. He doesn’t deserve this.”

Soonyoung wasn’t sure what the pain felt like exactly. There was nothing physical that could come close to its depth, its unbeknownst strength that abruptly flared within him so potently he could feel even his blood vessels concaving. He just knew it hurt. He knew that sensitive wounds recently set to heal had been torn up without warning, and they poured open, pouring and pouring as Soonyoung’s head thumped against the door, wanting to rail his fist through the wood if there had been no one there to witness him.

Actions weren’t solely reserved for testaments of love. They were just as representative of anger and heartbreak as they were anything else.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Minghao posed as set his handbag around his shoulder, Chan standing next to him and shyly tugging at his fingers. They both gazed worrisomely at Soonyoung who sat on the table with the doc station, dressed in a fresh t-shirt and black sweatpants, not exactly the primmest attire for dining at a somewhat sumptuous restaurant.

“I never said I wasn’t coming, but I feel kinda sick right now. I might join you guys later.” He heartlessly defended, his arms lying like cement blocks in his lap.

Chan gulped nervously, “Y-You don’t have to make something up if you don’t want to g—,”

“I’m not making it up!” Soonyoung unabashedly snapped, leaning forward slightly and fists harshly balled to collect the energy in his outburst.

Chan didn’t flinch, but he most definitely looked drained, his face paling to that of morning frost. Minghao clearly read the situation much better than Chan, suspicions dangling at his mind’s forefront, however he wasn’t about to voice them and further collapse the situation when what he’d been craving all week was a relaxing dinner, some smooth music, a glass of wine to swallow his stresses to. Instead of interrogation, he decided to give Soonyoung the quietness and air he evidently needed, simply nodding his head with a tight lip.

“I hope you feel better,” Minghao said whilst patting Chan on his shoulder, “We should really get going though. There’s no pressure for you to show up. Do what you feel is best.”

Soonyoung leaned back against the wall, his legs bobbing as they hung over the edge of the table.

“Thanks.” Was all he muttered before Minghao and Chan left the studio, the enticing bustle of nightlife sounding for a mere fraction, until the door clicked shut and Soonyoung was left to kick his feet as cars sped past beyond the studio’s glass window.

Soonyoung was unsure of how long he sat in silence, his head titled to gaze upon the luminescent families of stars that gathered in the black sky. He couldn’t see the moon from his position, but he knew it shone brightly, a silver-bluish glow bathing the polished floor like an ocean light. If there happened to be a thing or two on his mind, it was a question rather than a sentiment.

How could you do this? You seemed to allow yourself to slip so effortlessly back into Junhui’s reigns, as though you were a tiny leaf on the pond, simply following the current that tugged you downstream.

Even when Soonyoung thought he could read you, it only took mere seconds for that confidence to be erased, yet there always remained a lifetime of pain that jabbed him wherever it hurt most.

Getting lost in his head, Soonyoung failed to recognize the figure that approached the studio in haste, which walked up the staircase and gently tried the handle to see the door push open. He failed to recognize the swift patter of its steps, the light citrus of its scent, even the melodic lilt that weaved into its voice as it ventured into the studio. Soonyoung felt like he’d been plunged underwater, his lungs withering to scream yet were unimaginably full of something dreadful.

He caught the figure’s eyes—your eyes, how they timidly sparkled.

You swallowed, arms unnaturally crossed against your chest. “Minghao said you would be here,” sounded your soft-spoken introduction.

There was no barrier separating you from Soonyoung, yet you hovered in the middle of the studio like there was a vast gorge that kept you apart.

Soonyoung nodded, “Yeah.”

You licked your lips, rubbing your arms up and down, “He said you were feeling sick. Is that true? Do you feel any better?”

“Dunno.” Soonyoung answered.

Despite his curt replies, emptiness echoed so loudly in between every pause that he suspected even you could feel a part of it. Very cautiously, you stepped further toward him. He wasn’t some feral animal that was going to burst from its chains and attack you, but you approached him as such.

“It didn’t really feel the same without you there,” You made the effort to potentially ignite some warmth into the air, “Not without your jokes and stuff.”

But Soonyoung indolently blew out the warmth with a cold reply of his own. “What are you doing?” He said. His tone wasn’t sharp, but flat, and he could see how you uneasily shifted at his complete flip of attitude.

Your arms fell from your chest, perhaps a foreshadowing of how you were willing to confront the obvious weight in the room, the dark shadow that prowled directly where Soonyoung sat, staring you down with ice in his eyes, but your gentle words suggested opposite.

“I want to talk to you.” You replied whilst stepping closer and closer.

Soonyoung remained mute, though continued to follow your movement, how you fluttered in step by step until you were standing right in front of him, right at his legs that dangled off the table.

He sat up straight and looked nowhere else but directly into your eyes. It had always been him that shuddered with nervousness, and now the coin had been tossed so that you were seeking trouble in finding composure, a method to ground yourself whilst his gaze prickled you like an intense fever. Soonyoung didn’t split the connection for even a second; he steadfastly maintained eye contact, your faces only inches apart as you momentarily looked to your fumbling hands before shaky laughter filled the studio.

“I-I, um, I have something to tell you, alright? But it’s really, really not easy. I don’t know how you’ll react or what you’ll say or what you’ll think of me but, I don’t want to keep this a secret. I guess there’s no sense in rambling though.”

You took a deep breath, your eyelashes feathering and hands pushing down past your stomach, almost as though your fear was palpable and you were attempting to subdue it.

Soonyoung’s eyes fell to the shape of your lips, how they pursed with the breath you exhaled. Your scent had encompassed him, mild and sweet like the fresh fruit of summer, and moonlight splashed along half your face, illuminating your skin like a glinting crystal. Perhaps he could have possessed more self-control, but this may be the last time he could ever act before what he suspected you were going to say became reality.

“Soonyoung, I need to tell you that I’m—,”

He didn’t resist. A squeak erupted from your mouth as Soonyoung slid off the table, his hands gripping with modicum force at your waist and pushing your back against the mirror. The second your skin seemed to hit the cool glass, a gasp burst from deep within your chest, Soonyoung then seizing the sliver of time to press his lips against your own. For a fleeting moment your body was rigid, though it fell ultimately weak, melted like cream into his touch as his fingertips tightened the silk of your dress into your skin.

Your mouth was soft, corresponding eagerly to his movement, and your teeth were gentle in their quick, teasing bites against the plush of Soonyoung’s lips. This specific moment what was played most commonly in his head, from restless sleep that could never grace his eyelids soon enough to long, morning bus rides where his head had yet to leave the clouds and the sunrise ignited embers in his vision.

But at last, he was kissing you; he was drawing heavy, hot breaths from your chest as he collected your taste on his tongue.

Briefly Soonyoung pictured the party, how he’d sat watching Junhui’s large hands roam your body, dig crescents upon your skin that was softer than a peach with his nails, turn the colour of your mouth a vibrant, cherry red, the sheen of saliva on your lips glossy and bright. But at long last it was Soonyoung’s turn to ruin you – to elicit the sharp, breathy mewl from your chest.

The mere realization further emboldened him, caused him to lick into your mouth whilst your hands trembled, threaded into his hair in tight, concupiscent fistfuls.

Inch by inch his kisses strayed from your lips. Your back was pressed with a more solidified firmness into the mirror as Soonyoung’s hand crept down your waist and tucked beneath your thigh, hauling it over his hip. His fingertips curved fire upon your skin, inducing a sting that overweighed in pleasure than in pain. You titled your head back, heat coursing through his veins when he heard a beautiful moan flutter from your mouth. His lips then reached the sensitive crook of your neck where the sweet scent was most concentrated.

His teeth delicately bit down upon the warm, velvet flesh, the manner in which you arched toward his touch encouraging Soonyoung.

His world was tuned to nothing but your hedonism, the tiny noises you were unable to supress beneath the wet pressure of his tongue against the new, glistening bruise. And it continued like that, blossom after blossom being suckled, nipped and licked into the column of your neck, your chest, fingers knotted into Soonyoung’s hair not to guide him, but to express the euphoria he masterfully summoned at your core.

However, as Soonyoung’s palms cupped your ribcage, and as his kisses adapted a much more sentimental, slower rhythm once they pressed upon the soft swell of your chest, there was a gaping feeling that howled inside him. He couldn’t have you. He shouldn’t even be doing this with you. Where you should have been was at dinner with your friends, enjoying the music, the food, the conversation. Despite Soonyoung’s intimate wishes to continue with your fingers tugging at his scalp in a dull sting, your breathless mewls, your swollen lips gasping his name, he believed you were not in love with him.

A splash rolled onto your chest, tiny and wet, and then another and another. Soonyoung had stopped kissing you, his grasp on your ribcage fading in strength.

“W-What’s wrong?” You questioned whilst he heard that your heart still beat like a metal pendulum. “Why did you stop? It felt so good, really good.”

Undoubtedly the damp trails were leaking from his eyes. They were no longer tinted with a thick lust, but a vacantness that left his irises hollowed and indiscernible. Soonyoung’s vision of his marks on your chest blurred. He heard you gulp, your fingers winding down from their tangled clasp in his black hair to gently cup his face; raise it into the meagre light of the studio.

“Soonyoung? You okay?” However, the very second you peered into the clear lacquer that lined his eyes; he assumed that you understood his answer before he even spoke it.

“N-No.” His voice cracked.

The soft pad of your thumb brushed beneath his eye. “Tell me what’s wrong,” You were notably pleading rather than politely asking, “What’s hurting you?”

He didn’t care anymore. His face plunged straight into the junction between your shoulder and neck, his hands uselessly clutching at the back of your dress, compressing the silk in his hands. Your heartbeat thrummed throughout your entire body, and Soonyoung could easily detect its sporadic pulse with his ear pressed tightly to your neck. He hiccupped and the dam suddenly broke loose, your fingers coaxing down the back of his head in a lambent hope it would soothe him even marginally.

“Y-You don’t love me, you don’t love me, you don’t love me but I’m so fucking in love with you that it’s all I can ever think about. Nothing has ever hurt this bad but I can’t keep myself away from you. I-I don’t know what to do. You’re with Junhui again and I want to be angry at you because how could you fucking do this to me when you know how I feel about you, how badly I want you, how I’d drop everything for you. B-But it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault and—,”

“Soonyoung, Soonyoung,” You’d gotten a hold of his face, fingers gripping into the teary trails that soaked from his eyes, from his gaze that had broken like a glass sheet. “I need you to listen to me, baby, okay? Calm down.” Soonyoung wetly blinked at you, never having experienced such a heartfelt reflection glaze in your eyes.

Sweeping the black hairs that had masked to his flushed, tan skin, you gave his head a small shake, staring at Soonyoung with moonlight slanting across your features.

“You beautiful, beautiful boy who I adore so much I can’t even describe it. I’m not with Junhui, I don’t know where you got that idea from, but I’m not with him. I came here specifically to tell you that—,” Your thumb brushed beneath the plump curl of his bottom lip, “For fuck’s sake, that I’m in love with you! I’m in love with you, and I am being one-hundred percent serious.”

Your hands drifted from his cheeks to the sides of his face, where Soonyoung could feel their slight pressure and their solacing heat.

He wasn’t able to pinpoint that last time he’d allowed his emotions run so rampantly before you, completely abducting control of his body until he felt like a vessel running on autopilot. His face was still damp and there were watered pearls clinging to his eyelashes, though Soonyoung wasn’t as concerned with a little blotchiness marring his vision when you looked at him like you needed him, like you couldn’t live without him.

The tender, grazing movement of your fingertips along his jaw pulled with a feather’s daintiness, Soonyoung sniffing a bit raggedly as your arms then wrapped around his neck.

“If you’re wondering about why I drove to the dinner with Jun, it was just because I left a lot of things at his apartment I wanted to pick up. I was finally feeling well enough to face him on my own… When I broke up with him, I knew exactly why I did it, Soonyoung.” You chewed your bottom lip and huffed in slight amusement, adapting to how it felt to ultimately speak these realizations, these thoughts, aloud.

“I did it because I finally understood this feeling I’ve always had for you, but could never put my fingertip on. I know that I’m in love with you. And, like you said, one day someone is gonna come along and sweep me right off my feet, make me forget about all my worries as though they’re nothing but dust. You’ve always been that person; I guess I just didn’t understand myself well enough at the time to see that.”

Fragile laughter rumbled in your throat, “You really took all my years of blissful ignorance like a solider, huh? I’m not really sure how I’ll ever make up for that.”

Soonyoung hands returned to your waist, clutching with a notable pressure, as if your body was fabricated from the swirling soot of a star that could ghost between his fingertips in a mere second. He straightened his posture, rested his forehead against your own, and peered directly into your eyes that blinked at him with a sentiment he could at long last read.

Without another wasted heartbeat, Soonyoung whispered right at your cupid’s bow, “You can be with me.”

To which a smile blossomed at your bitten, bright mouth.

“I’d love that more than anything.” Your voice slipped into a gentle hush just before the tips of your fingers swept down his neck, guiding Soonyoung forward the tiniest amount to kiss his pink mouth so sweetly.

The night ended on quite an interesting note. Minghao ended up hopping from the dinner table early because he was reunited with the sudden urge to photograph their memorable night; however, he’d forgotten his camera in his dance bag which he left at the studio. The air was chilly and misted, but felt ever so refreshing against his skin heated from many glasses of wine. As he quickly paced down the street, nose buried in his coat and hands in his pockets, he found himself coming to an abrupt stop outside the studio.

With a hammering heartbeat clogging his throat, he vigilantly did his best to peek into the dance studio’s front window, his jaw hanging on by a mere thread as he gauged the sight that had been beautifully framed by a shower of moonlight. Soonyoung’s hands were pressed against your back, holding you close to him whilst your arms cradled his head at your shoulder, fingers just barely combing his hair. Together you swayed, tangled in the other’s company, to a much muffled melody Minghao had to absolutely strain to hear.

Once he saw Soonyoung’s iPod glowing from the doc station, Minghao nodded to himself, a smile crossing his lips at a relationship he never thought possible.

Yet, now that he witnessed Soonyoung raise his head from your shoulder and softly capture your mouth in a slow and gentle kiss, Minghao could see that it was a relationship that made the most sense. As much as he yearned to fetch his camera, Minghao decided to place his own needs aside. Besides, he would most likely return to the restaurant to find Wonwoo offering the server a blunt and Chan shoveling handfuls of mints into his pocket whilst Junhui distracted the front-of-house manager.

Minghao left the two of you to your moment.

Soonyoung had finally attained his wish.

✧✎ a/n: lol starting this i inferred it would only be abt 6-7K... obviously that DID NOT happen! i dont know why my brain is solely programmed to make such long stories. i mean... i have written shorter things... but not very many. hopefully you can see why it takes me eons to respond to requests!! i havent posted smth this lengthy in a while so i hope those who read it had fun!!! comments r welcomed!!

it felt very nice writing a one-shot for soons bc i only have ONE other one-shot for him... and it’s like done in a second. Tragic!!!! anyways, i envisioned this story listening to allie x’s song, catch!! i would have linked the song, however adding links seems to prevent work from showing up in the tags :( if youre interested in listening tho, i guess youtube exists lol. this author’s note is going to become as long as the fic if i dont stfu, sooo... BYE!!!!

#seventeen scenarios #hoshi scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #hoshi #soonyoung #seventeen angst #hoshi angst #seventeen fluff #hoshi fluff #kwon soonyoung #svt fanfic #friends to lovers

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