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quirrrky · 1 month ago

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I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU, AND ALL THESE LITTLE THINGS •✦ haikyuu

KUROO, KENMA, IWAIZUMI, OIKAWA, AKAASHI, KITA, ATSUMU, OSAMU and the little things that matter the greatest when you're with them

≡ NOTE ⋮ single as a pringle but I want my future relationship to be like this ૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ these boys make me fall in love hard

KUROO TETSUROU

It's the way he always stays beside you even though you're both doing different things. He'll rest his head against your arm as you type on your laptop/computer and he was on his phone, browsing for some random meme or nerd stuff. From time to time, Tetsu will show you some funny posts he'll come across just so you can laugh at it together. When he feels the urge, he'll plant a random kiss on your shoulder; and if he still can't get enough, he'll steal a kiss on your lips and who knows it might turn into something more. There are times when he's feeling extra so cuddly and will rub his cheek against your arm like he's your cat in human form, then he'll feel drowsy and fall asleep.

It can go the other way around too when you're caged in his arms with your attention on your phone and his on the TV. He'll nuzzle his nose on top of your head and you'll squeeze tight against his chest, just shrouded with his warmth and scent.

He doesn't have the perfect family growing up. He's awakened to the the impermanence of things a little too early that's why just by having you beside him is more than enough. Just the simplicity of basking in each other's presence—cherishing all the time you get to spend with each other no matter how mundane.

KENMA KOZUME

It's when he treasures every memory with you no matter how small. Kenma will sneakily take pictures of you whenever you're just simply eating fries, you're busy doing work, or crying over a tearjerking scene in a movie. That one time you looked so beautiful as you attend a party with him, the one when you are slightly snoring in your sleep and even when you have your mouth full as you munch on your favorite food, he has an album of all those. He has even created a private Instagram account with photos and videos of you alone and of the two of you as a couple.

Sometimes you will catch him smiling while tinkering on his phone and you just think he's playing a game, but little did you know that he is editing a video of you and the both of you.

He has been content being all by himself yet when you've come along, his world begins to be more colorful. It's like he's playing Pokemon but the one he's catching will always be you and your cute reactions, keeping every bits and pieces of your presence in his life as the greatest gameplay he doesn't want to be over.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

It's how he wakes you up each morning. Hajime is always the early riser. Set aside the times when he'll surprise you with a breakfast in bed or the instances when you're running late, he'll nag at you so you can get your lazy ass up from bed.

What you treasure the most is whenever you find your head resting against his chest as he fidgets with the strands of your hair. The beating of his heart against your ear is like a sweet welcome in the morning.

Also, the times when you'll wake up to him watching you sleep. His gaze is full of adoration and filled with emotions unspoken. The way his eyes will crinkle in his smile as he say, "Good morning." You feel so lucky to wake up beside this man. Just seeing him you look at you like that makes you grateful of each waking day, getting another chance to spend it with him. You want to freeze the moment, wishing for it not to end anytime soon. Just you and him before the world.

OIKAWA TOORU

It's the pillowtalk you have before going to sleep. How you reminisce the first time you meet each other and how far you've come together. The sparkle in his eyes as he recall how much more beautiful you have become and stronger you have been, growing into the wondeful person you are today. His eyes convey so much fondness and love that they beam even at the dimness of your room. There's also something so special with the way he caresses the side of your facewith the backnof his hand as if he's trying to bury each dip and line of your feature.

You'll dissect your emotions together, the good and the bad. You'll both cry at the sad moments, embrace each other through the hurt and laugh at the silliest and most embarassing memories.

Tooru has always been seeking for external validation, seeing achievement as the metric for his success yet with you it's just so simple. You're all he needs to be fulfilled. With you, it's just so easy. and sharing every moment with you, every loss, every victory, is something he will never ever trade for anything else. For, despite everything, he has finally found the safe space he can come home to at the ebd of each day.

AKAASHI KEIJI

It's when he doesn't want to let go of your hand. Keiji has always been a gentleman, but he won't let anyone break your handhold whenever you stroll outside. He'll always have your hand in his never breaking away. His hold is tight and gentle, expressing how protective he is of you. His thumb usually carresses the back of your knuckles so sweetly and he'll occasionally whisper a kiss like you're his treasured princess. When it's cold, he'll slip your linked fingers inside his coat. Sometimes, he'll gently breathe out against your hand if he notices you freezing. Whenever your handhold will break, he immediately seeks out for you. He'll stop walking just so you can come back in his grasp again.

He has gained a habit of playing with your dainty fingers idly too. Sometimes, it can catch people's attention just by the sheer intimacy of it yet he isn't aware.

Even when you're alone and at home, he still reaches out for your hand. He has you in a tender hold as you watch your favorite show or eat dinner. There are times you'll wake up with your fingers interlocked with each other and it gives you so much comfort. Comfort in knowing you have someone to hold on to for the rest of your life and you know you'll never ever let him go too.

KITA SHINSUKE

It's the way he cares for you like no one else does. Shinsuke will always see that you have eaten enough and at the right time. You can't skip a meal when he's around. If you're busy and can't take a meal right away, he'll bring the food to you. Makes sure that you drink plenty of water and you sleep on time. He snatches your phone away when you take too much time with it even during late at night. When he's farming and you're at work, he takes time to call you during lunch, making sure that you are looking after yourself as much as he's looking after you.

He always checks the temperature outside and prepares the right outerwear for you so you won't catch a cold. Even if you have layers and layers of clothing over you, he'll still pull you close with an arm around your shoulder to keep you warm.

When it's raining, his priority is to get you under the umbrella. It doesn't matter if a part of himself is getting drenched as long as you are not.

He can be strict at times but he is easy to cave in and will allow you to eat your favorite junk food or sweet once you surprise him with a kiss.

Though he can be quite strict at times, he really wish you know how much you mean to him he doesn't want you to be harmed. Your hurt is his hurt and he just simply wants you to take care of yourself the way he cares so devotedly for you.

MIYA ATSUMU

It's because you're his perfect match. Tsumu often buys something in pair. People will see you wearing matching jackets, shirts and caps. You even have couple phone cases and wallpapers because of him. Whenever he has a new jersey, he'll give the extra to you so you can sometimes wear it together. He just loves seeing his clothes on you. You look so good in them that

Whenever he buys something in the grocery, he'll also buy one for you. If there's only ine pudding left, he'll share the other half of it with you. Always with you. He always has you in his mind and thinks of you as he thinks of himself.

Sometimes, he'll sacrifice what he has just so you can have it. He won't let you know about this, of course, but he wants you to feel that you have him as a partner, that he'll be with you in every step of the way and that he sees you as an extension of himself.

MIYA OSAMU

It's because he lets you mess up. Though it's obvious with the way he sweats and brows furrow, how he's so nervous with what the outcome could be, Samu will still let you take over his kitchen.

Normally, he doesn't allow any foreign hands on any of his kitchenware, but you are the only exception.

He'll let you use his non-stick skillet pan though he just bought it. He knows it won't come unscathed after your use but he still lends it to you and you know it so well. Instead of getting angry at you, he just laughs at your mistakes, carressing the top of your head and giving you a sweet kiss. He's aware that you're trying your best to impress him even if he is constantly reminding you that he doesn't mind making breakfast, lunch and dinner for you for the rest of your life.

Most importantly, you can mess up his brand new skillet or even his whole kitchen. He can always get another one again but he cannot get another one of you.

@pixelcafe-network

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coucouatoi · 9 months ago

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don't want to be alone | h.s.

Pairings: Harry Styles x Reader

Summary: Divorcing the biggest superstar on the planet is the hardest thing you've ever done. Almost as hard as marrying him was.

Warnings: Angst, couples therapy, a little bit of fluff, hopeful ending

A/N: I don't know why I'm feeling so full of angst... but, please enjoy!

Flashback are in italic and present day is normal text

Boxes are littered around the house. Some full and taped shut others still being stuffed with your items. It's a slow and torturous process, having to choose what to take, what to throw out and what things are a conversation waiting to happen "That's a wedding gift from my aunt" or "When have you ever used that?" or even better "I know it was a gift, but I paid for it so i'll keep it". It's like he knows exactly which buttons to press to get the fights started. Granted you might be doing the same thing... But it doesn't make him entitled to all the belongings you've ever shared.

You've managed to find all the picture albums, the ones you decided to make for sentimental value. The ones you gifted him in tender moments. The ones filled with so much love, so much hope and promises for a future together. The ones you're now highly considering throwing into a paper shredder and tossing into the nearest incinerator. The ones you won't be able to get rid of. The anniversary album you gave him on your one year, the wedding album, the honeymoon album, the many travel albums and, of course, your daughter's first album.

Little Anya, barely 9 months old just starting to babble her first words. Chubby legs working so hard to keep her standing and exploring. She can barely take 3 steps one after the other but she's a fighter. Your little girl that is now a cause for argument, no, fights. Custody battles. The true war between yourself and your husband, Harry Styles. Neither of you want to lose or call for a tie, it's not how either of you operate in conflict. That, most likely, is the reason for the downfall of your relationship.

Frustrated you put the albums back where you found them and you head to the kitchen.

Most kitchen items have been packed up, Harry had never really invested in worthwhile cutlery or electronics of any sort. You take some orange juice from the fridge and pour a glass for yourself. The fridge itself is barren, with only the essentials left... neither of you has gone to the groceries in weeks. Today is not going to be a good day.

From the rediscovery of your love-filled albums to the boxes you've spent most of the day doing, you still have one horrible thing to do.

Couples therapy, your first-ever session. You thought, well still think, that this is too far gone to save in therapy. There won't be anything new shared that you haven't already screamed in each other's faces and self-help talks aren't exactly going to do the trick. Anne, Harry's mother, insisted that your marriage doesn't only include two people anymore. Anya makes it worth trying, she is worthy of a stable home as she grows up. No matter how unstable having a superstar parent may be, divorced parents might just add to that an unruly amount. So, you've both agreed to try. Try your very best to reassemble your love no matter how shattered it has become. Love. Love hasn't manifested itself once since about your seventh month of pregnancy. Love has vanished from your husband's once warm and inviting eyes, it no longer lingers on his fingertips and doesn't even creep into the more tender moments you must share with your baby. Love feels like a complete joke to you now.

The waiting room is empty of other clients which is a blessing in disguise. This is the absolute last place you'd want to run into Harries. Even if the media has already been dragging you in the mud for "breaking their dear superstar's heart" and has been making all sorts of claims about you and your marriage. In the very beginning, Harry had spoken up about these articles and had gotten his team to shut some people up but he's been losing care for... well, you.

"Harry and Y/N?" you look up meeting the eyes of who you can only assume is your therapist. Without sparring your husband a glance you get up and follow her into her office. It's cosy and smells like vanilla. There's a yellow glow to the room, it bounces off her multiple frames and decorations. Very nonthreatening, immediately putting you a little more at ease. She gestures for you to take a seat on her velvet green couch and you sit down squeezing yourself onto the left armrest. Harry does the same to the right.

"Good afternoon to you both, I am Trinity Finch. Can I get either of you something to drink before I sit down?" She smiles politely as her eyes shift between both of you. You only shake your head as an answer not trusting your stomach at the moment.

"Water if it's not too much trouble, please" Harry's voice is strained, he had been at the studio all morning probably preparing a new album you aren't aware of.

Trinity nods and quickly grabs a water bottle from a small fridge she's got right behind her desk. Harry mumbles a thank you as she hands it to him. You don't realise that his hands are shaking as you're back to looking around the room. He takes a few big gulps before your therapist gets to sit in her chair.

"Today I would just like to start with a history lesson on your relationship. How it started, all important moments, how parenthood has changed your shared life and just how you two are as a couple" She starts getting things ready around her, notebook, pens, highlighters, some sticky notes and you swear that you spotted some bright childish stickers. Her long manicured nails tap against the glass of her desk a few times as the silence stretches. Neither of you taking the first step in this session. When she looks up again she doesn't look annoyed or surprised by the lack of an answer.

"Harry, how did you meet your wife?" Trinity asks him gently.

Harry seems caught by surprise to have been asked a question directly. He looks at you briefly before turning his eyes back to her.

"Um, we meet on the plane. For some reason, my private plane for that day was not available and they booked me on a regular flight. Premium ended up being full and I got an economy seat. I had the aisle and she had the middle we ended up bonding over our shared movie choice. Then I asked her out and um here we are?" He ends with a question. As if unsure if "here" is a good thing, it's definitely not but meeting has, unfortunately, brought you both here.

"And when was this?" she asks.

"April 2018" he answers quickly. She nods presumably writing it down.

"How was your relationship before marriage Y/N?" she looks at you now with kind eyes. They are big and dark. Staring right into your soul. It makes you slightly uncomfortable but at the same time you don't want her to look away she's your lifeline right now.

"It was very easy. I work remotely as a translator and an editor, so I've always been able to tag along on his travels and tours. He, um, he always insisted that he rather have me with him even if we couldn't see each other every single day. Just knowing I was near helped him..." you sigh. You don't want to shed tears this early into your session. You don't want Harry to see you cry any more than he already has over your lost relationship.

"I really loved following him around the globe" you add, looking down at your lap willing your wet eyes to dry.

"Any fighting? How did you deal with that?" Trinity is still talking to you maybe even sensing that you're about to cry. Is that what she wants from this?

"Well, yeah. I mean all couples fight, right? We fought over the same things all the time really. I wanted more affection I guess pressuring him to take some time away from the spotlight or he wanted me all to himself whenever it worked with him without thinking of my work. Our jobs were the main reason for fighting between us" Besides you, Harry scoffs before taking another sip of water. Your head turns to him

so quickly that a sharp pain forms in the back of your neck. Your posture immediately tightens, muscles locking and your breath gets heavier.

"What? You don't agree?" you question him in a much harsher tone than you were previously using. He meets your gaze and shrugs.

"I do but that's not all we fought over" he shrugs again not looking away. Is he trying to pick a fight right now? Here of all places?

"Then what? What am I missing?" you prepare yourself for the worst. Ready to feel like absolute shit at anything he might say.

"Your constant jealousy was a contender for the most appearances in our fights" his entire expression is accusatory but he does this thing with his posture. Gets all soft and somewhat blazé making you feel inferior and so incredibly small.

You want to storm out. Call Anne to apologise that it couldn't work out and immediately sign the divorce papers that are permanently placed right on your dining table.

Not wanting to fuel this energy taking over him right now you shrug as well before facing Trinity again. She's watching both of you like a hawk, processing the way you react to conflict with each other. Making mental notes as well as some physical ones all while hostility happens between her clients.

"We'll move on from this for now. Harry, how was the wedding? How did married life change your bond?" this seemingly calms his overgrown ego. His face is neutral again but there's a softness to it now, recalling the happy days.

"We had an Italy wedding. We, I love Italy. I flew everyone out, our families and friends, and then we stayed there for a month more for our honeymoon. The wedding itself was... amazing. We kept it small. Intimate. With my life it's always been hard to have that so, it was important to us" he sounds blissful towards the last part. Probably back there now in his mind. Ah, the good old days as they say.

"I don't think married life changed us much. We were living together before that and we'd been planning it since we got together practically" he stops talking again to take another sip of water. You look at the lady in front of you again and as she begins to open her mouth to probably question him more Harry starts talking again.

"I guess tension started about a year in. The media wasn't kind to her. They made up cheating rumours on both sides and manipulated things to make them seem like something else. Someone even showed up at our old house while I was out" he took a deep breath, cracking some of his knuckles at the same time, "We were always on edge around each other. Throwing these rumours at one another just to I don't know, get a reaction? Plus, we were stuck at home because of Covid and my tour was postponed. It was a real shit show" he laughs bitterly and you nod along to what he was saying. That was just a terrible time. For everyone.

"Then I got to go on tour, Y/N didn't follow along for all of it but she was there most of the beginning. It wasn't the same as before. There was this distance that just never got better. And then she got pregnant" he almost sounds exhausted. Maybe he is, you're not sure how much he's slept lately.

Shit. Fuck. This can't be happening now. Shit! The word "Pregnant" seems to be mocking you as you look down at it. Mocking the fact that you and Harry have not seriously spoken in two days and that you're flying back home tomorrow. Mockingly reminding you that this can only make things worse right now.

"Y/N, come on the car is waiting downstairs" your husband's voice is weak through the thick hotel bathroom door. He's performing in Toronto tonight. The second day, the last day before he flies to New York and you go back to London.

You walk out of the bathroom, straight past Harry, not wanting him to read your face and figure out that something is terribly wrong. You slip into your shoes for the night and take a deep breath, no scratch that, a huge breath. Willing your facial expression to cooperate before you turn to him and smile.

"Let's go superstar!" he smiles back and walks over to you. Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his mouth so he can plant a kiss on the back of it.

"We just might have to cancel tonight if you look this good" his free hand wraps around you tightly glueing you to his body. You know he doesn't mean it but you pretend to consider it nonetheless.

"Mh what about all your adoring fans? Won't they be so utterly crushed?" you tease against his lips. He smiles wickedly before slowly nodding.

"I do have quite the engagement this evening... how about I make it up to you after?" he presses soft kisses to the sides of your face. Framing it.

"That's a pretty good offer, I just might have to tak-"

"HARRY STYLES GET YOUR ASS OUT OF YOUR HOTEL ROOM!!" Jeff's voice is full of annoyance as it cuts you off. Rude.

You laugh before getting pulled out of the room by your husband. The small plastic stick forgotten on the washroom counter for now.

You get a harsh reminder tho when you're back at the hotel after yet another amazing concert. You're laying on the bed completely stretched out and now only dressed in your underwear. Harry's currently using the washroom to try and get some of the remaining glitter off his face when he finds the secret you've kept all evening.

"Y/N, what's this?" his voice is so shaky that you barely even understood what he asked you. However, when you look up your brain catches up. He's in his boxers, left hand in his hair and right hand holding the test like it's made of glass as he looks at it as if it's going to explode. Fuck.

"No chance that you suddenly lost the ability to read?" you try and lighten the suddenly very heavy mood in the room. It fails.

"You're pregnant. How, I mean no I know how. Fuck, you're pregnant" he looks up at you panicked.

"We don't have to keep it" is the first thing out of your mouth. Probably as a panic response to his reaction. Not wanting this to turn into another fight.

"What?! Why wouldn't we, you don't want, I um" he takes a second. He's just breathing heavily while looking at you desperately. "You don't want to keep it?" he breathes out.

"You do?" is all you answer. You stand slowly, finding the clothes you just took off to put them back on. Whatever mood you were in is gone you're now filled with anxiety and a deep fear.

"You leave tomorrow... We won't see each other for what 3 months? In Mexico?" he hasn't moved an inch. Feet seemingly glued to the floor and limbs were frozen.

Pregnancy. One of the worst and best times of your life. Your gorgeous baby girl came out of all the pain you suffered. She gave a new meaning to the way you live, made you forget about all the physical pain you endured and...

"Why do you say it in that way? Like you still dread what the pregnancy brought" Trinity's voice almost startles you. You'd been so lost in your thoughts that you'd almost forgotten where you were.

"I don't! I love Anya" his voice is stern.

"What about your wife? What happened during the pregnancy?" she's digging. Wants to find the right buttons to push.

Harry stammers, but no answer seems to satisfy him. His hands are squeezed under his things, his right leg bouncing and his eyes avoiding either of you.

"We didn't plan her, I was right in the middle of my tour. We, um, we weren't doing very good and she was about to go home" he looks at you suddenly surprising you when he meets your eyes. You can't read him, can't understand what he's feeling. You haven't been able to read him in months.

"She- You, Y/N, she got really sick in February the seven-month mark. I was in Australia and I couldn't be there. It really strained us, we fought all the time over the phone and in person. I guess that's really when we went downhill" his jaw tenses when he looks away from you. Looks like he's not happy to have to have shared this with the room.

"Okay, thank you, Harry. I think now's a great time to take a breather. I'll meet both of you individually when we come back. So, see you both here in 20 minutes?" Trinity smiles at both of you and keeps smiling until you both walk out.

Harry doesn't come back. You wait 45 minutes in Trinity's office looking like an idiot. She dismisses you with a look of pity on her face before scheduling another appointment 5 days later, lots of work to do you assume. You rush out of the building humiliation creeping into every inch of your body. How could he do this on the first day? It was going fairly well, well you think so anyway... did he give up on your relationship right then and there?

As you make your way to your car you see him. Harry is pacing back and forth in front of his car as he seemingly argues on the phone. His free hand waves erratically in front of him, gesturing like mad for someone who can't even see him. So this is what he's been doing? Arguing over the phone while you sat in a therapist's office waiting to try and work on your ever-crumbling marriage. You scoff before turning away from him and to your car. But nothing seems to be on your side today as your husband hears you and immediately calls out to you.

"Y/N! Why are you leaving?" you hear him walk towards you, the clacking of his shoes getting closer to you but you ignore him and walk away faster.

You're completely focused on your black Subaru, the "You're so Golden" sticker catching your eye and making you more pissed off. Something that was put there because you loved the song, because of how beautiful your husband's voice is in the song but now all you want to do is rip it right off. So, that's what you do.

Your nails claw at the edges of it desperately. You don't want any reminders of Harry on your car, you don't want to think of him while putting the groceries away, while walking around the car after putting Anya in her car seat and you don't want to see it in your rearview mirror anymore. The top corner lifts as you're pulling at it giving you the perfect leverage to rip it right off. You throw it to the ground right before turning around to stare daggers into Harry's eyes.

"45 minutes, Harry. I sat there 45 minutes with our therapist looking at me like a beaten dog!" you hiss at him. He is now only about 2 or 3 feet away from you. His eyes are wide, in shock you guess, as he looks at the sticker. "What could you have possibly been doing for more than an hour that made you forget what we were here for?" you're sure you sound desperate right now. Your head is all over the place and your heart feels like it might explode out of your chest.

"An hour? I, no, that couldn't have been more than-"

"You can go back up and ask her if you want because I really really don't want to be around you right now" and now you're crying. Fuck. Why are you crying now? You need to leave.

While rummaging in your bag for your keys Harry grabs your arm. Well maybe not grabs, he just places his hand on you, resting it there delicately. If you weren't so aware of every single inch of your body right now you wouldn't have noticed. No matter how delicate the touch is supposed to be you flinch out of it aggressively.

"I'm, I'm so sorry Y/N. That was my mother, she, fuck" he sighs and runs a hand in his hair gripping it tightly. "She wants us to go up... she's rented a lake house or something I guess" his voice is so soft, shy even.

"Us? You mean you and Anya?" god you hope so.

"I'm so sorry" is all he answers.

Anne Twist is a very difficult woman to say no to. Actually, it's impossible to say no to her. In the many years you've known her, she's always been able to find a way to make you say yes. Always in a good way. She loves you, she has told you that countless times, and you love her but now that you're... the way you are with her son you don't know where you stand. Yet, she has still found a way to get you to agree to something you would have much rather not have gone to. You're in a small townhouse almost 4 hours away from your home in London with your mother-in-law, your daughter and your soon-to-be ex-husband. What has your life come to?

Anya is sitting in her high chair passionately eating banana slices as you watch her. She's already gobbled up the strawberries and pita bread slices she also had for her snack. She's such a good eater always so ready to try new things and taste whatever the adults around her eat. Especially the sweet treats her dad sneaks her.

"Do you want to go take a dip after huh? We should enjoy the water my love" you coo at her as she takes her final bite of food. She smiles at you like she understood what you asked and you chuckle wiping her chubby cheeks and hands. She'll be able to float around in the water for a little bit with you before you put her down for a nap. The steps of your morning are perfectly planned so that you can have your solo Zoom session with Trinity.

There is a small river behind the house you're staying in. The water goes up to just above your breast and it's the perfect warmth at this time of day. You've made your way down to it and are now setting up Anya's towel for when she'll be too tired to entertain you and ready for her mid-day snooze. She's currently lying right by you looking up at the sky with such curiosity, probably trying to figure out what the hell clouds are.

"You're so curious my love!" you shake her gently as you smile widely. "What do you see up there?" as you look up to join her sky-gazing you spot Harry making his way to the river as well. He's only got very short grey swimming trunks on meaning his entire chest, thighs, calves, and arms are out for the whole world to see. Maybe that's an exaggerated statement as you're the only one looking right now. You want to scold yourself for staring, you really really do but he's just so... so captivating and very enjoyable to look at no matter how much you resent him at the moment.

"Mind if I join you ladies?" his voice is more cheerful than when you heard it last. Must be because he's actually speaking to and looking at Anya.

However, when you don't answer his question he looks up at you. Expression now closed off again, how it's always been for the past few months. You smile politely and nod before turning your back to both of them so you can take your robe off. Your swimsuit isn't anything special; simple black one-piece that's high on the hips and low on your back. You think it looks pretty good on you but now you feel very aware of the amount of skin you're showing. You decide to just get in the water hoping its dark colour hides you. Hides away the skin your husband might be looking at.

"Looks like mummy is in a hurry, we should join her. What do you think sweetheart?" Harry picks your baby up and makes his way into the water. He holds her tightly to his chest as he climbs in, just in case he slips on the stones he uses as stairs. Once your daughter's chubby limbs meet the water her mouth forms into an adorable "O" shape. It's the second time Anya's been in the water now so she must still be unsure about this feeling. Harry turns her so that her front faces you and her back is against him. She smiles when she spots you reaching her arms out quickly which splashes some water around. She looks at you with a shocked expression and does it again with a giggle now.

"You little troublemaker! Trying to splash me!" you tease her sending some water her way. She answers with a sweet giggle and shakes her arms around as fast as she possibly can.

"Mh, my jokester gene is strong in her" Harry's voice is laced with pride. You playfully roll your eyes at him and hum affirmatively.

"And her love for singing too" you add remembering so many moments where she hums to any song playing. Her favourite thing to do is to harmonise with her father. His deep voice always gets her attention, always gets her to mumble and hum along with her own lyrics.

"Oh yes, she's the next big thing this one" he affirms kissing the top of her small head affectionately.

It's in moments like these that you tend to forget how bad it is between you. How many horrible things you've shouted at each other not caring how deep your words could cut. The accusations, the insults, the taunts and even the lies still weigh heavy on both of you. You like these softer moments, where you're reminded of how much love you both had for each other. Have? Had? You don't know anything about your feelings anymore, they are much too complicated to understand...

All three of you stay in the river for about an hour more before Anya starts yawning and fussing. When you exit the water you're quick to slip your robe back on still overly aware. Harry wraps the fluffy towel you had gotten ready around your baby. Her head rests in the crook of his neck, her eyelids already heavy as she blinks slowly. You all walk back to the house together silently. Might it be to keep the sleepy baby calm or to keep the peaceful aura around you and your husband, you don't know.

Harry insists that he will put the sleepy girl to bed and that you should take a shower first. After all, you have the first private sessions with your therapist. The mention of her does make the air in the townhouse tense again but Anne appears immediately to kiss Anya before she naps. You use that moment to sneak into your shared room with Harry. Luckily, it has two single beds so you don't have to share with him.

Signing deeply you rid yourself of the now damp robe you had on. Another blessing in disguise, this room has an en suite bathroom so you'll be able to jump right into the shower. Before that you do want to set up your laptop for the video call, you want to be as ready as you possibly can be. You grab your device from your backpack and make your way to the small desk in the corner of the room. There's a bunch of papers scattered around it, one glance at them and you immediately know what they are.

Lyrics. Drafts of songs and melodies written by your rockstar husband. You don't mean to read any of the words you really don't but as soon as you spot your name at the top of one of the pages you're doomed. You put your laptop down on Harry's bed which is right next to the desk and reach for that exact paper.

The words you read are full of longing, pain, sadness and fear. They mourn love, they are mourning your love. You pick up another sheet of paper, this one has no title but there are so many lines written. This one is reeks of self-hatred, of shame and guilt... it shakes the weak barriers you've built around your heart. All of the lyrics you read on different papers revolve around the same emotions. These are all about your relationship. About the death of it. About his desire to turn around. You don't realise you're crying until a tear falls onto the paper you hold. The ink bleeds into itself where it's been wet blurring the words slightly. You quickly wipe your face and put the papers down. You shouldn't be looking at these, you're invading his privacy.

"Thought you were showering" Harry's voice startles you out of the chair. You meet the floor with a loud thud. Your tear-filled eyes meet his sharp ones. Scrambling up to your feet you grab your laptop ready to explain, ready to apologise over and over again.

"At least tell me what you think" he sighs walking into the bedroom and shutting the door behind himself. This shocks you. What does he mean? He, he's not mad? Isn't disappointed that you invaded his creative space? Your mouth opens and closes a few times unsure what you should answer.

"I'm sorry" is all you're able to get out. Your brain is blank in absolute fear but tears keep falling from your eyes.

"I should be apologising... you, you weren't supposed to see those" he walks in your direction slowly, testing the waters of how close you'll let him get. He's closer than arm's reach when you flinch backwards slightly and he stops immediately.

"I was going to ask you for your permission before making any of those full songs but you know music is how I cope" he whispers now that he's so close to you. Silence takes over the room again, stretching out for too long. Your eyes somehow keep producing tears as you try and speak. Hopelessly searching for words to say.

"Do you really miss us? You miss me?" is what you come up with, your voice is so shaky that you're on the verge of sobbing uncontrollably.

This shocks Harry in place, seemingly not prepared for that kind of questioning from you. His mouth gapes and his eyes grow wide. This time you do see his hands start shaking. You're not entirely sure what this emotion is.

"Of course I do. Did you not think so?" while still whispering he reaches out to hold you but stops himself hands falling at his sides.

"Yo- Harry, you asked for the divorce. How was I supposed to know you miss me?" your voice breaks. You don't understand, why is this happening now, why is he saying these things?

"We should just get a divorce" Harry snaps at you as he fights back tears. Your expression immediately closes up, your body reacting before your thoughts and words do. Protecting you from what he just said, building walls around you and your heart as quickly as possible.

"Fine" you spit out as you turn away from him and walk straight out of your bedroom. If that's what he wants then so be it. You won't beg for anything now that he's made his decision.

"I know, okay? I know that I asked for it and that it's the reason why you don't talk to me anymore. Well, you do but not really" he sighs and sits down on his bed, damn swim trunks wetting the bed "We talk about Anya and when we're not we are yelling at each other... so when was I supposed to tell you that I missed you? That I regretted asking for the divorce..." he looks at you with a guilty expression, all his emotions are coming up at once.

"Why did you ask for it?" you ask him sitting back on the desk chair with your laptop still in your hands.

"I got in my head. You were saying we should take some time for ourselves maybe live apart... with everything that kept being said about us, I got so scared" he takes your laptop out of your grip and puts it down next to him.

"I thought you were going to fight me on it..." he adds as he grabs your hands tenderly. Like he's afraid you'll break.

You shake your head in disbelief not sure what to say. Your thoughts are all over the place, what should you make of this?

"It broke my heart" When did his face get so close to yours? You should really move away. You can't fall back into him, you can't let yourself do that. So you pull away from him roughly, your hands tugging out of his hold, face moving to the side, a sob making its way out of you as your back meets the chair-back.

When you meet Harry's eyes you can see the pain, the hurt, in them. They are brimming with tears that are so close to spilling out.

"Are we... are we too broken?" his voice has dropped to a whisper. He sounds so sad and scared.

"I'm worried" You take in a few breaths before you speak again, "What if we just end up hurting each other again? What if we can't go back?" you choke out the last few words. Tears spill endlessly out of your eyes and sobs rack your entire body.

It feels like you're running out of air and the little bits you get in are painful. Your eyes burn as you cry and your hands are shaking like crazy.

Harry might be answering or trying to communicate but nothing is making its way past your meltdown. What does make it through is the feeling of his arms around you. Him pulling you against his chest tightly, immediately rubbing your back as soothingly as he can. Your hands are grabbing his still bare skin desperately, wanting to anchor yourself in any way you can. Your face rests on his peck, right above his heart, the frantic beating bouncing around your head.

"Breathe, you have to breathe love" he speaks delicately in your ear, breaking through the barrier your body has put up.

"I'm- I'm, I can't... Harry I can't" your clawing at him almost trying to get under his skin, someplace you might be able to understand everything that's going through his mind.

He wiggles around a little before laying you both down as he keeps reassuring and encouraging you. He drags you on top of him your face now pressed up against the juncture of his neck. Your left-hand makes its way into his hair, pulling at it as softly as you can manage. Harry's hands run up and down your back, your arms, and your neck and he even pets your hair delicately. He's always known how to best calm you down... how to bring you back down to earth and out of the panic attacks you sometimes get when you're overwhelmed.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry" he repeats that over and over with a pained desperation. Harry's scared shitless too. He doesn't know how things will go with your relationship. He can't guarantee that you won't end up actually wanting a divorce one day... But he can love you. He has and will keep loving you. He hopes it'll be enough to save your marriage. He'll work incredibly hard every single day to prove his love for you... if you let him back in he won't ever let you go. He'll leave it all up to you. Your little family is all he needs, he'll spend the rest of his life proving that to you if that's what it takes.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #harry styles fic

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calypsocolada · 7 months ago

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THE PROPHECY | t. shigaraki

synopsis: tomura doesn't want to be your enemy anymore. authors note: hi hi hi. been working on this fic for a few weeks. it's sort of a continuation of the first kiss fic with him in it. also I'm working on a few other fics and requests and hope you enjoy this one in the meantime. it's a lot longer than I thought it was gonna be. also with the release of tswifts new album expect a few little nods to her songs... cw: blood, gore, suggestive, enemies to lovers, lovesick!tomura, obession, fem reader wc: 5k

click here for my masterlist

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He watched you from afar. He watched your television broadcasts and studied your face as though he’d missed something the first hundred times. He remembered your smiles, and could decipher whether real or fake. He’d visit places you had been and imagine you there now. Future number one hero. His number one. Tomura was sick. Sick in the head, sick in his chest, his heart, dark and decrepit only beat for the sun. His days were dark and gray until he saw your shining face. So bright sometimes it made his stomach turn. He wouldn’t call it an obsession. It was something far worse. He didn’t just want you. He needed you. He needed all of you. Wanted your things in his room. Wanted your body sprawled over his bed in one of his worn t-shirts. Wanted you eating at his kitchen table, something only he cooked for you. He wanted to hear you talk to him. To say his name. Wanted your eyes on his and your hands on him. He wanted your time and your heart and your being. He couldn’t have it though. The prophecy that encircled him was stuck on its unwavering path. Even you couldn’t deter his fate.

Sometimes he thinks about the first time he saw you. Only when he’s alone and no one can see just how far gone he truly is.

Him in company with the shadows as you were announced as the next pro hero. You were standing on some podium. The microphone was taller than you as you reached for it and it yelped with feedback. You had laughed it off and cleared your throat. You looked radiant, with glowing skin and bright hopeful eyes. You were signed to Endeavors squad. Tomura knew you were stronger than that bumbling fire breathing idiot. But still you smiled just as bright.

All that untapped potential within you. Those powers could cause devastation if in a villain's hands. Which is why All For One asked Tomura to keep an eye on you in the first place. To see when the time to strike and steal those powers would be. But Tomura was past that. You had far more meaningful things he wanted rather than your powers.

You had thanked Endeavor after he gave a speech introducing you, your hand wrapping around the mic. Tomura fed off the shadows, after all they were giving him the ability to see you in person. It was an unreal feeling. Your speech wasn’t too long and you ended it before your eyes could well up with tears. The last words of your speech swirling around in Tomura’s head.

“I have always wanted to do good. I’ve always wanted to be a hero. Thank you for giving me the chance to do just that.”

He could see that good in you. Could see that swirling hope, that devotion to all things just. He unfortunately could see All-Might's influence. Endeavor walked over and placed a hand on your shoulder and Tomura felt something sick churning. He didn’t like people touching you. He knew you were nice, maybe too nice to say anything but he’d gladly be your voice if you needed it. When it was over you had walked out to meet people. Tomura watched you still. You were like some drug he couldn’t fend himself off of. He followed you at a healthy distance through the crowd. He wanted to see if he could corrupt you. See if he could drive you to the edge. See if those powers could be used for more than just causes. He could grab the man standing beside him and use decay. He could create mass panic. He could see your powers up close, could feel the weight of your stare. But as he got closer he saw you bending over to smile at a little girl. He heard your laugh and melancholy voice telling the little girl that if you could be a hero, anyone could. His reaching hand paused when you straightened and turned, almost like you felt the heat of his piercing eyes. Like you had a feeling creeping down your spine. Good intuition. He turned to leave just as your eyes found his. Just that split second of eye contact sent him pushing his way through the crowd and towards the exit as though he had just committed some atrocity and needed a quick exit.

You two crossed paths many times after that day. Tomura did learn the full force of your attention and it completely turned himself in on his once well sought after goals. Because now… you became his goal. His ultimate end. He wouldn’t mind dying if only it was by your hands. There was no saving him, no redemption for you to give him but death. He could see it in your piercing eyes. Could feel it in the way you fought him. You didn’t fight like other heroes. You had something to prove. Most heroes in your position would be cocky. But not you. No you were calculating and smart, but above all… you were vicious with him. Those powers were something to fear and Tomura loved them more for it. The one person that could end his endless suffering was also the root of it.

And the moment had finally come for him. After fighting, Tomura’s endurance wavering, he saw a thirst for blood in your eyes. A hunger so deep he knew you could never feel the same for him in a million millennia. And when the time came he accepted the death you’d grant him with open arms.

But you didn’t grant him a thing.

You had every opportunity to but you hesitated. Tomura saw it. Saw the quickest of uncertainties pass your heavenly face. Your eyes flitting up to him. The eye contact was nothing like he’d ever experienced before in his miserable life. You weren’t looking at him with anger or contempt. But something else. Something he wishes he could ask you to explain. He watched your lips part and heard you suck in a breath, not realizing he’d been holding his own.

“Well… what’re you waiting for, hero?” He asked. This moment like something right out of his stupid daydreams. You tightened your grip slightly at the sound of his voice but that uncertainty stayed. Tomura couldn’t help but glance at your lips. After all this was probably the last time he’d ever see them this closely. And he couldn’t help but get caught up, to just stare and drink in his fill before his demise. You flinched when he looked back up and right then and there he knew you couldn’t kill him. He didn’t know what it was but he could feel it as deeply as he felt for you.

“I can’t.“ You affirmed his suspicions. Tomura’s stomach clenched. He’d never heard your voice this close, speak this softly. He melted at the moment. You let out a ragged breath and there was a moment shared before Tomura saw Dabi’s blue flames travel towards your unguarded back. Tomura acted without even thinking. He gripped you by the shoulders and spun you out of the line of fire. You felt the heat graze against your shoulder before your back hit the ground, Tomura shielding you with his own body. He was burned badly with that little move. He groaned above you, shooting a glare back at Dabi. You stared at him above you in utter shock and confusion. He’d just saved your life. He stared at your mouth then saved your life. And you couldn’t kill him. You had every opportunity to end everything right here and now. He was already injured, you could finish it all here and now. But when Tomura turned and your eyes met again you couldn’t do it. Tomura reached for you, his thumb just barely wiping dirt from your cheek. It was surprisingly intimate. Until you realized the hand touching you was the same one that could easily turn you to dust. You were quick to act, quick to fire up your powers and send Tomura back towards the fire. Something burned in you, some feeling of guilt as you struggled to your feet and ran off towards the rest of the hero’s that had started to fall back. Tomura hit the ground hard, slightly startled by the force in which you sent him flying. He rose and watched you meeting back up with the rest of the hero’s. Watched Hawks run over and meet you halfway, grabbing you gently and looking you over for any wounds. Tomura felt his stomach twist in a sickening way. Jealousy like a vice around his chest.

You had tossed and turned all night. Unable to turn your mind off. The events of the day played in a loop. Fighting Tomura, taking him to the ground. The curious way he looked at you. The curious way you looked back. The inability to kill him after everything. You could justify trying again if he hadn’t saved you. He saved you. Tomura Shigaraki saved your damn life. He took a burn for you. And then he touched your cheek. Without evil intent. And the look in his eyes when he did it. That’s what haunted you so stunningly and consistently for the entire night. You sighed heavily, turning over in your bed, running a stressed hand through your hair.

Was this a thing now? That hesitation that took such deep root, that act of kindness to keep you from the flames. What if he had done it to confuse you? To test your allegiances. If so you had failed sort of spectacularly. Letting him touch you and feeling something when he did. You sat up instantly. You felt something when he touched you. You felt something when you watched his eyes watching your lips. You pushed out of bed and felt the cold flooring beneath your feet as you rushed from your room. You needed to do something… anything to get your mind off of him. In your haste you slammed right into Hawks.

“Woah… hey there you alright?” He asked, steadying you. You cleared your throat.

“Y-yeah, just hungry.” You lied. Hawks slightly cocked his head as he surveyed you for a moment.

“You seem… rattled.” Hawks says. You look up at him a little too quickly. You shake your head.

“I’m fine.” You say and slightly cringe because you did not sound fine. But Hawks wasn’t one to pry. He just gave you a small smile and nodded his head.

“Well… you know where to find me if you aren’t actually fine.” He says before walking off to his room. You turn slightly as you watch him walk away. You suddenly wished he was who you were laying up at night thinking about. Wished you could chase him down now and release the pent up energy that swirled within you. But that wouldn’t be fair to him because you’d be thinking of someone else. You ran a stressed hand down your face and proceeded to the kitchen. After you ate and calmed down a bit you were able to wrangle in those unruly thoughts. Just because he saved you once doesn’t mean he deserves to take up rent in your head. The man was evil. You’d spent the better part of a year facing off with him and his followers. He doesn’t deserve your hesitation or confusion. The next time you faced off with him would be the last.

Tomura could only watch as his mind was stolen, watching his body being overtaken by a force he wasn’t strong enough to stop. All for One’s control taking over. He knew he had seconds left before he’d no longer cease to be himself. You burned with hatred beneath him, your left arm broken and useless, your right hand holding some sharp shrapnel that you’d plunged desperately into his side, your powers flickering weakly within you. He didn’t feel the pain. Your eyes flashed, his hands around your neck, squeezing. Someone was going to win here but… it wasn’t going to be him.

He pulled you hard, the fire in your eyes licking and burning his own but he couldn’t care less. If he was going to die he was going to make one last grave mistake that might send him to the grave earlier than expected. He leaned down where you were pinned beneath him and with impressive force, smashed his lips against your own.

The kiss was like a fight. Like all your other fights. But lips instead of fists. With breaths instead of words. With groans instead of screams and growls. His hands gripped your face hard to keep you where he wanted you. You, in a fit of confusion and pure survival instinct twisted the shrapnel in his side. He gasped in pain but that only spurred him on, his mouth cracking yours open in a feverish attempt to be as close as humanly possible. He had no indication whether or not you wanted this until the pain ceased and he felt your tongue brush against his. His breathing hitched, muddled with pain and sorrow and complete obsession. He pulled you off the ground roughly and kissed you until you both were gasping for air. When he pulled back the state he left you in was enough to satisfy him for years. Your lips were kissed pink and wet, your cheeks had a wicked blush across them as you stared at him with utter bewilderment and something else that had his stomach tangling in knots within him.

He resigned himself to death then. He was guilty as sin.

Your hand was still on the hilt of your shrapnel that was embedded in his side as you stared at each other. Breaths heavy. Tomura didn’t know how to be kind. He didn’t know how to be soft. He’d never kissed anyone before and it should’ve been pretty damn suspicious when the first person he’d ever felt the need to devour with his lips was the one standing opposite of him in this endless war. The one he needed to destroy. And to say he wanted to devour you was almost an understatement. He wanted to climb into your body and live in your ribcage, safe and tucked away. He wanted to be inside you, wanted that mind of yours to only know him, wanted those pink lips to only speak his name, those pretty eyes to only meet him. The obsession was endless. He wanted it more than ever right now. Death knocking down his rotted door. So bad that he hadn’t even noticed his own tears before they fell and hit your cheeks. You blinked a few times, slowly coming back down from the clouds. Tomura reached for you a last time, the pad of his thumb swiping his tears off your cheek.

“Save me, hero.” He breathed out before everything went black.

Your breathing staggered as you watched Tomura change before your eyes into something else. You had been warned about Tomura’s connection to All For One but you let yourself get caught up in the moment. You were able to take advantage of the moment and put a little distance between you and the hijacker. You could hear Hawks calling for you somewhere but you weren’t leaving this. Tomura had asked you to save him. With tears in his eyes. And god dammit you were going to save him if it killed you.

“I know you're still in there,” You call out, voice steadier than it had been all day long. The hijacker looked up and the smile was pure evil. All For One. You’d never met him in person and without Aizawa here to cancel his quirk you were dead in the water. But you weren’t leaving.

“Tomura’s not here, girl. But he sends his condolences.” Even his voice didn’t sound the same. You kept your head high and even though your body screamed in pain you got ready to fight.

“Get out of his head.”

“You sound like you care, hero?” You flinched at the nickname. It didn’t sound as good coming from him.

“I can’t ignore someone in trouble.” You say, your heart speeding slightly as All for One laughs.

“Is that so?” He asks, cocking his head. “As though you weren’t seconds away from killing him before I took over.” You were slightly relieved he didn’t seem to know what had transpired moments before he took over.

“He asked for help.”

“Does he deserve your help?”

“Everyone deserves help.” You shoot back defiantly. All for One just laughs, walking towards you. Your powers flickered weakly within you and you felt overwhelming fear, felt the urge to run. But you stayed put.

“How about a trade, hmm?” He asked. You stared at him. He wasn’t to be trusted, you know that. But still…

“A trade?” You echoed.

“I’ll give him back to you if you hand over those powers willingly.” All for One stated. You stared at him. All you ever wanted in life was to be a hero. You were blessed to have powers like these and as much as you wanted to save Tomura, these powers in All For One’s hands would only cause death and destruction.

“I- can’t.” You said and watched a sympathetic smile spread across All for One’s stolen features.

“Some hero you are.” He said. “And to think this host pathetically loved you for years.” Your eyes cut to his.

“What?”

“You heard me. What an idiot he was, thinking you could save him.” You saw red. You charged without even thinking, your powers flaring up as you hit All for One square in the jaw. He lost a few steps, blood dripping from his lips as he laughed and laughed and laughed. “You’re bold.” He said and you burned. You only had one good arm and you hit him again and again until you couldn’t feel your knuckles, your hand bruised and battered. You screamed to let Tomura free but your words fell to uncaring ears. All for One caught one of your punches and sent you flying. You crashed into some loose debris. You coughed up blood and dizzily tried to push yourself to your feet. Your endurance was gone, at this point you’d been fighting for hours. You were past your limit, undoubtedly bleeding externally and internally. But still you pushed to your feet only to be caught by the throat and slammed into the wall. All for One pinned you there, with your feet not touching the ground you gasped and sputtered for air. You kicked hard but All For One just laughed it off. “You’re a strong one, hero. I’ll give you a valiant death.” Fear gripped your heart and in a last ditch desperate act you grabbed the closest thing you could find and sunk it into the flesh of All for One’s arm. He didn’t budge. With his hand around your throat, blackness danced around the edge of your vision. You had no strength left. You were going to die.

“Tomura-” You struggled to breathe, your voice coming out in a choking gasp. Somehow… you’d grown to care. “Come…back.”

When you woke up it was a startling affair. You sat up quickly, gasping and reaching for your throat, you felt the tender flesh there, undoubtedly bruised. Warm covers fell from your body as you looked around. You were in some small cabin, a fire burning in the hearth, a soft orange glow lightening the room. You were bandaged up pretty thoroughly, your arm in a sling. You pushed the covers from your body and swung your legs around to the edge of the bed and that’s when you saw him. Sleeping soundly in the wooden rocker beside your bed was Tomura. His hair was damp and falling in stringy curls around his face. You stared at him, unable to look away. What had happened? It was clear to you that some time had passed since fighting All for One since it was dark outside. But how you got here and with Tomura was a complete mystery. You silently move to your feet and wrap the cover around your freezing body. You move towards the door, hand inching towards the door knob.

“Leaving without a word?” You flinch hard at his sleepy voice. Hand stopping before it touches the knob. You don’t turn to face him, ashamed after everything.

“Where am I?” You ask over your shoulder. You hear Tomura sit up in the chair.

“A cabin, safe.”

“Not good enough.” You snap, turning slightly. Your eyes meet and you instantly regret turning. Tomura is looking at you in a way that makes your stomach flip. Tomura stands and you pull the covers tighter around yourself. He walks to you and you take a step back. Was All for One still in control? Was this an act? As though he read your thoughts he held up his hands in mock surrender.

“It’s me.”

“How?” You question, keeping up your guard. Even if it was him the air between you two would still be foggy. He kissed you when you thought he was going to kill you. You weren’t sure at all where you stood.

“I heard you.” He says softly. “I heard your voice and it… gave me purpose.” He doesn’t reach for you but a part of you wishes he had. You hazard another look in his eyes. What was this spell that suddenly had such a tight hold over you? This feeling that only sprung when he first touched you. Just looking in his eyes made your knees weak. But you were good at maintaining a poker face.

“Purpose to finish the job yourself?” You ask. Tomura doesn’t react to your venom, it was as though he expected it. He looks away from you.

“I won’t ever kill you. Not even if my life depended on it.” He says. You stare at him.

“I don’t understand.”

“You… affected me, hero. It’s not something I can… explain exactly.”

“Try.” You say sharply. Tomura looked slightly stressed, he ran a hand through his hair, his shirt popping up slightly. You blush and turn away. Tomura couldn’t even imagine this moment in a million years. You, standing mere feet from him, cheeks pink, moments from a confession he didn’t even know how to word. He was sure his kiss spoke volumes.

“It’s rather simple,” He starts, taking a hazardous step towards you. Your eyes cut up to his, watching his every move. “I don’t think of you as my enemy.” You suck in a silent breath, your lips parting in surprise. You didn’t have to ask what he meant by that. You were sure that kiss was a power move and that he’d gotten the better of you. But it seems you have had the better of him for quite a while. You pulled the cover closer as though it could shield you from something you didn’t quite understand just yet. But… you wanted to understand.

“You saved me. From Dabi’s fire weeks ago. I… never got to thank you.”

“You being alive is thanks enough.” Tomura says. Your heart skips in your chest. You breathe in somewhat unsteadily.

“How long… How long was I out?” You ask, clearing your throat.

“Just a few hours. After I got control back everything sort of fell into chaos so I just grabbed you and ran.”

“You patched me up too?” You ask and Tomura nods his head.

“You should rest some more. No one’s going to hurt you here.”

“I don’t trust you.” You say. Tomura looks hurt by that but more so he looks like he understands, after all this was all sort of new territory. Tomura had no intention of forcing you to do anything, after everything you two had been through he’d be delusional to think you’d up and change how you thought about him in one day. He never thought that could even be possible, that someone could trust him enough to love him. That someone could look at him, perceive him and know him to his very core and choose to stay. He’d stay for you. But he didn’t expect you to stay for him.

“That’s okay. Are you hungry?” He asks softly. Your eyes meet again. This time tension builds properly and you're reminded how he kissed you. How he grabbed you like a starving man and slamming his lips against your own as though he’d rather do that than breathe. You blush at the thought.

“I need to go. I need to tell my team I’m alive.” You say.

“Stay. Just this one night. I’ll even leave. Just stay, eat something, rest and leave in the morning.” Tomura says, almost like a plea. You swallow, something in his tone had your stomach twisting. You were in trouble. Deep trouble.

“I… I can’t stay.” You shake your head, dropping the cover and reaching for your clothes but Tomura catches your wrist. His grip is gentle and he’s stepped much closer to you.

“Don’t go.” He pleaded. You couldn’t even speak, not with him this close. You're not sure where your composure had gone but you sorely missed it at this moment. “Just one night-” You cut off his sentence, pressing your lips to his. He got to surprise you once, now it was your turn.

A curiosity burned inside you, a need to feel the way you felt when he kissed you that first time. Tomura melted at your touch, he groaned against your lips and stepped fully into your space, gently walking you back against the cabin door. A heat burned in the pit of your stomach, only his touch satiated it. Your body ached from the earlier fight, scar and bruises stinging with every movement. But you didn’t care. You dragged Tomura to the bed and pulled him down on top of you. You kissed him hard, kissed him with a need to understand him. To crack him open and live inside. He pulled back just slightly.

“Do you really want this-” You grabbed his shirt and showed him exactly what you wanted. All those sleepless nights, thinking of him. You could solve all the mysteries now. You wanted him horribly bad. Clothes were shed, breaths shared. Tomura was careful with you because of your injuries and although you didn’t exactly want that it was nice not being in complete pain during all this ecstasy. Tomura kissed everything he could, he mapped you out. Wanting to carve the sight of you beneath him into his own skin. To remember this night for years to come. He didn’t expect this lapse of judgment to be a recurring thing. He fully expected you to come to your senses and be gone in the morning. The vicious cycle back in effect. But he wouldn’t fight you any longer. If you wanted to win all you needed to do was ask. Tomura kissed his way back up to your mouth. Your eager touches almost sent him over the edge. Tomura wanted to take things slow but it felt achingly slow, he was just as eager as you. He wanted to see the reactions on your face when he touched you there, wanted to catalog every sound, every noise that escaped your pink lips. He wanted to be rough, it was in his nature but he just couldn’t, he just wanted to kiss you, you were very dear to him. To be close to you. He wanted the soft touches, but above all he wanted the reassurance, even if he knew he could never have it. You could feel it, so you flipped around and pressed him into the covers. He gasped beneath you. If this was anything like your fights you’d come out on top. You leaned and kissed his lips, you trailed kisses to his neck and savored his labored breaths and small whimpers. You barely moved your hips against his, just to amp up the tension. You wanted so badly for years to hold a win over his head, to conquer him but you never thought it would be in such a different context. You tangled a hand in his hair and left marks on his neck. He twitched beneath you, his gentle grip on your hips slowly tightening. You could tell he was holding back. Maybe because you were so injured.You had realized you had been moving sort of fast, consumed by the moment. So consumed that when your hurt arm hit the bed it sent a sobering pain through you like nothing before. Tomura sat up, gently helping your arm back into the sling, careful hands brushing your hair from your face.

“We should stop… I don’t want you injuring that arm anymore.” He says softly as you nod in agreement. He rises from the bed and disappears into the kitchen for a moment before coming back with some food and medicine. As he watched you eat he thought about what he wanted. He wanted you to be the one to stay. To break his curse and change the prophecy. He’d beg and plead if he needed to. Pray to anything above that would hear his desperate pleas. He just wanted you to stay.

“This is good.” You said. “Didn’t know you knew how to cook.” You say, realizing you really don’t know much about Tomura on a personal level. And that you did want to know him.

“I’m glad you like it.” He says, but it was clear his mind was somewhere else. He watched you with this sort of wanting expression.

“Have you eaten?” You ask and when you look up he leans just slightly to press a soft kiss to your lips. Your breath hitches as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Will you stay?” He whispers to you. You nod your head and his hands slide against your cheeks as he deepens the kiss, hand tangling in your hair as he drinks you in. How could you not stay?

#fem reader #tomura x y/n #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura x reader #tomura shiragaki #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #shigaraki tomura #bnha tomura #tomura shigaraki

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sentientcave · 7 months ago

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Retirement Party

Chapter 4 - Runaway

<<First Chapter - < Prev Chapter - Next Chapter >

Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Dubcon, Plus-sized reader, female reader, Poorly thought out action sequences, Guns, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though I might even tell y'all her name.

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

You wake in the morning with your nose buried in a thick patch of chest hair, and strong arms around you. Your legs are hooked around one of his thick thighs, and something hard digs into your stomach. You start to inch away, but his arms tighten, and his hips cant against you, a thick, sleepy groan rumbling in his chest. It would be a nice way to wake up, if not for the circumstances. It’s been ages since you slept beside another person, let alone someone that feels as comfortable as John does.

“John,” you say softly. You don’t want to fully wake him up, just get him to let you go. “John, please let me go.”

He hums, one hand sliding to your waist, and then down to your hip, pulling you closer, grinding you against his thigh. You squeak in protest, becoming aware that you’re already wet, like you’ve been unconsciously humping his leg in your sleep for some time. You push your slightly freer top half away a little, so you can look at him. He’s still sleeping, a little frown on his face as he’s pulled unwillingly toward consciousness. He really is handsome, especially like this, all his defences down, grumbling like a hibernating bear.

“Don’t wake up,” you tell him, as if it’ll make any difference. “I just have to pee.”

One of his blue eyes cracks open, a little unfocused. “You comin’ back?” His voice is rough from sleep, rasping like sandpaper.

“Sure,” you say, even though you have no intention of doing so. Your body seems as eager as his is for something you’re sure is dangerous. Maybe he smells good, like tobacco, warm, boozy spices and something undeniably male, and maybe he feels warm and solid against you, but you don’t want to encourage this. You just want to enough space to clear your head. His admissions last night still have you spooked, John’s words not tempered by a night of surprisingly good sleep. “I’ll just be a minute.”

He loosens his hold on you enough that you can wiggle free, his eyes opening a little more so he can watch you slip out of bed. He rolls over onto his back, and starts snoring gently before you’ve even made it to the bedroom door. You take the opportunity to snag one of the bags stacked in front of the closet and your purse off the dresser and bring both to the bathroom with you. You’re not sure what’s in the bag, but you know the larger suitcase has things from your closet in it, so you’re hoping this one has more from your dresser.

You get dressed, glad that most of your underthings and a comfortable pair of jeans and a thick sweater are inside and pack your toothbrush and makeup bag into the larger one, and creep downstairs carefully. One of them is snoring gently on the couch, but otherwise, the house is silent. You carefully fish a set of keys off the hooks by the door and sneak outside. You don’t know where any of your shoes are except the red heels, so you just leave in your sock feet, and pile your things into the pick-up truck. You’ll drive it into town and leave it there, buy a ticket on a train or a bus, and get the hell back home.

It sucks to have to leave everything you own, beyond the clothes in the one bag and the contents of your purse, but maybe you can call the cops— Well. Probably not. Better to just start over anywhere else. You have digital copies of a few pictures of your parents, and that’s better than nothing, even if their wedding album is sitting on a shelf in John’s living room, along with all the family photos that your parents took of you and them while you were growing up. Your mother’s sketchbooks too, and her camera, and your dad’s guitar.

You bite your lip, holding back tears, and start the truck.

No sense mourning things. The memories are in your head and your heart, not trapped in the pages of books or twisted into the strings of the guitar. You don’t need them.

You haven’t driven in a long time, and the truck, unfortunately, is a manual, which you haven’t driven in even longer, but you manage to pull away from the house without revving the engine too hard, and pick up speed once you get to the road, only just remembering to hit the clutch with your left foot before you change gears. You’d feel pretty pathetic if you only made it to the road before stalling out the pickup.

You’re not sure which way town is, but you figure the road has to lead somewhere no matter which way you choose, so you navigate blindly, turning onto a bigger road a little ways down the gravel one that leads to John’s house. Bigger road means more people, although the hour is still so early that there’s no one around yet. The sun is barely up, and it’s still shadowy in the woods on either side of the road. The woods give way to fields suddenly, the sun making a too-bright debut, shining right into your eyes. You flip down the visor and adjust the rear-view mirror, wincing when you see a blue car a ways behind you, approaching fast.

You didn’t notice the car when you were leaving— It must have been parked behind the bigger van that they’d used to move all your things— but it looks sporty and fast, and judging by the way it closes the gap, there’s no question that it’s them. You push the truck harder, squinting against the light, heart hammering. The car’s engine roars, loud enough that you can hear it over the blood rushing in your ears, and pulls into the lane beside you. Gaz motions for you to pull over from the passenger seat.

You slow up enough that they pull ahead a little, and you yank your steering wheel to the side and stomp down on the gas and the clutch, shifting into third gear and nailing the side of the car, shattering a tail light and making it spin, stopping just shy of the ditch.

For a moment, you’re still close enough to see the shock on their faces, but you’re moving fast and leave them in the dust, at least momentarily. It won’t take them long to recover and catch up again, and if they hit you with the same maneuver, there’s no way you’ll be able to get the truck under control. There’s not enough weight in the bed of the truck to compensate, and you’ll wind up in the ditch for certain.

Funny, how it comes back to you. Learning to drive along mountain roads way outside Aberdeen, either in your dad’s little car or your mom’s old truck (usually the car, which was the easier one to drive. Your dad was the safer driver too, the better parent to learn from), and you can almost imagine your mother in the passenger seat, laughing her head off at the insane circumstances, encouraging you to throw caution to the wind, to get a feel for the road under the wheels and the way the old truck handled. She always laughed when she was under stress, but it’s comforting to think of. Your mum would never let a couple of thick-headed military assholes get the better of her.

The car is catching up again, so you floor it and smash through a fence gate into a muddy field, where the car won’t handle as well, and speed your way across the stubbly remains of wheat, already harvested. The car follows, and, predictably, struggles, the low frame too close to the muck, bumping unhappily over the soft, uneven ground.

Laughter bubbles up in your chest, relieving some of the built-up anxiety. You smash through a segment of the fence on the other side and yank the truck back onto the road, giggling when the truck fishtails a bit, mud slicking the tires on the pavement. There’s so much adrenaline coursing through your system that you feel like you might be sick the moment you let any of this catch up with you. So you keep driving, and pray that it doesn’t.

The car gets close again when you reach another wooded section of road. Through the rearview mirror you can see Gaz pop out of the window, gun drawn, but you don’t hear the crack when it fires, you only feel the impact when the bullet strikes one of the rear tires. You shriek, slamming on the breaks as the truck spins out of your control and off the road, slamming into a tree head on.

The lurch forward as the airbags deploy, your body hitting them hard, knocking all the air out of your lungs as you’re slapped back into he seat. The seat belt bites into your shoulder painfully. You unbuckle yourself quickly, ears ringing too loudly for you to hear the screeching tires of the pursuit car. You fall to the ground when you try to get out, head spinning.

You stumble into the trees, still blinking away double vision. If you can find a good spot to hide— Maybe you can double back and take the car while they chase you blindly through the trees. You cast about, feeling every rapidly forming bruise, wishing desperately that you had shoes, and dive into the underbrush, scooting forward on your belly, brambles catching in your hair as you curl up, out of sight.

“Please come out, doll,” you hear Gaz call out, boots crunching through the woods, closer than you would like. “It’s okay, we’re not mad. Just come out and we’ll take you home, yeah?”

Johnny is yelling further off, his voice incomprehensible but sing-song, mocking. Gaz moves further into the woods. You wait until his voice grows a little more distant before you drag yourself back out, sweater streaked with mud, leaves in your hair, and quickly sneak back to the road. The car is still running, the driver door left open. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“There you are, bird.”

You scream. A gloved hand drops over your mouth, cutting off the sound, and an arm loops around your waist, picking you right up off your feet.

Fuck.

"Look what you did, bird. Wrecked up Price's truck. 'E's not goin' to be 'appy about that." He turns so you can see the slightly smoking truck, the front half of it crumpled beyond repair.

You shake your head until he pulls his hand away from your mouth. "Its not my fault I crashed. Gaz shot the tire out. I wasn't even going to steal it, just leave it in town once I'd gotten to a bus stop."

He hums. You hear the slight crackle of a radio. "Got 'er, lads. Come back to the car."

"Rog."

"Aye."

Ghost shoves you into the back seat. "Stay put," he says sternly. "You're already banged up, don't want to 'ave to tackle you."

You sigh, all the fight leaving you. You feel awful, bruised and shaken up and trembling, and you do nothing but watch as Ghost gathers your things from the truck and puts them in the boot of the car. You slump back in the seat, inspecting the scratches on your hands idly. Your head hurts, and your shoulder aches, and you feel a bit like you've been stepped on, but nothing feels broken, just bruised and tender. You got lucky.

Well, not lucky. There's very little about any of this that counts as luck. Especially considering the look on Johnny's face when he jogs out of the trees. At first he looks stormy, but he grins when he sees you and opens the back door to crawl onto the seat and on top of you.

"Steamin Jesus, where'd ye learn ta drive like tha'?" He asks. "Didnae ken ye were a racer."

"Outside Aberdeen," you reply. Your ribs hurt. Soap’s weight makes every little ache more acute.

"Price isn't gonna be happy about his truck," Gaz says, tossing himself into the driver's seat. "What were you thinking, doll? You could've been hurt."

"You didn't have to shoot the tire." You try to push Soap off, but he wraps himself around you, a bit tight, but bearably so. You’re trembling, and he’s trying to help, in a thoroughly unhelpful way. "I was just trying to get home."

"That's the wrong way. Your home's with Price now." Ghost gets into the other front seat, and Gaz reverses back out onto the road.

You sigh, leaning your head against the window, watching the countryside flash by. It takes an embarrassingly short time to get back to John's house. You didn't get as far as you would have liked, hardly got anywhere at all. Your eyes prickle with tears, but you don't want to cry in front of them. You want to go back to bed, maybe back in time to the morning. You would have been wiser just to curl up next to John again.

Soap drags you from the car, hands a bit rough on your bruises, and pulls you back to the house. John rushes out, worry creasing his face, blue eyes sweeping over you and turning furious. "What happened?" he barks, not at you, but at his men.

"Bird was makin' a run for it," Ghost says.

"Wrecked your truck," Gaz adds.

"That's not my fault!" you protest. "You shot at me!" You glare at him, frustrated tears overflowing down your cheeks. It’s like they have no idea what kind of stress they’ve put you through.

"Woah, woah, c'mere, doll." John pulls you against his chest, wrapping strong arms around you, stilling some of the tremble in your limbs. "You broken?"

You shake your head, leaning into him, gripping his t-shirt tightly. You breathe in raggedly, trying to steady yourself.

"Lads. Why did you shoot at her?"

"Trying to stop the truck."

"She's a civilian you muppets. I take it that the truck's in no shape to drive, or you would've brought it back. You could have killed her." He pets a hand over your head, plucking out a few leaves. "You should’ve let her go."

"She stole your truck!" Soap protests.

"So what? It's wrecked now anyway, innit?" The silence behind you speaks volumes. "Alright, doll, why don't you go get cleaned up? " he murmurs against the top of your head. "I need to talk to the lads, and what I have to say is not fit for a lady's ears."

He gently ushers you into the house and closes the door firmly behind you. You trudge upstairs, feeling utterly pathetic, and lock yourself into the bathroom. Still sniffling, you comb sticks and leaves out of your hair with your fingers and put yourself into a hot shower, where you give yourself the freedom to cry your eyes out, hoping that the sound of water drowns your stifled sobs.

The house is quiet when you shut off the shower and dry yourself off. You wrap the shirt you'd slept in around you and poke your head out into the hallway. John is right there, holding out a bundle of clothes. "Here, sweetheart," he says softly, like he's worried a sharp word will set you off again. He must have heard everything. "I sent the boys to deal with the truck and that tail light, so it's just us. Just come on downstairs when you're ready."

You open the door wide enough to accept the clothes, and he turns to leave again, content to leave anything else to be said when you make it downstairs.

He'd obviously taken his cue from what you'd been wearing already, because he gives you a sweater and jeans again, comfortable worn in things. You go downstairs carefully, every joint and muscle in your body aching, even after the shower.

"How do you take your coffee?" he asks. "Or do you prefer tea?"

"Coffee, please. I can make it. I'd feel better if I did, honestly." You skirt around him to the cupboard where you'd seen Gaz take mugs out, recognizing your own nestled among John's mismatched ones. You put milk and sugar in your favourite mug, and pour in coffee, stirring it throroughly. The clink of the spoon is loud, and so is the pan he sets on the stove top.

"Eggs and toast okay?" He asks.

"Um, yeah. That would be nice. Over easy?"

"Yes ma'am." He looks at you over his shoulder while butter melts in the pan, blue eyes all worry. "Did I say something to you last night? Maybe the sort of thing that made you feel like you needed to steal a truck and run as fast as you could away from here?"

"Um. Yes." You hold onto the mug with both hands. "Some stuff about wanting to start a family. With me."

His ears turn pink. "I see."

"I suppose this is where you tell me it was just the whiskey talking, right?" you ask hopefully. You like him, even if it’s ill-advised, maybe even dangerous to do so.

"Wish I could."

Your stomach twists. “Oh.”

John turns around fully, guilt and sadness written all over his handsome face. He steps closer and touches your arm gently. “I’m so sorry about what my boys have put you through, sweetheart. None of this has been right.” He sighs, brushing a few tendrils of still-wet hair away from your face, studying you, those intense blue eyes focused on you intently. “But there’s something special about you, doll. I really do want to keep you forever. Not if you’re scared, and not if you feel forced— It’s just, the thought of you leavin' and never wanting to speak to me again is— I don’t want that.”

You swallow nervously. “This is just really overwhelming.”

“I know. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have let this happen. Soap really could have just given you my number.” The smile he gives you is hopeful, and you can’t help but return it, just a little. “Now go sit down, doll. Let me take care of breakfast, hm?”

You nod and move to the table, sitting where you can watch him, and peek out the window too. The car is gone, but the van is still there for the moment, sitting idly to the side. You consider making another run for it, but your aching limbs protest even the thought. There’s not enough fight in you, and you’re not even sure you want to fight John, not the way you do the other three. His only crime has been wanting you to stay, and being a bit overzealous about it. You can’t be mad at him for that, can you? It isn’t really his fault.

Well, it might be his fault, in a roundabout way. He trained them, taught them how to ruthlessly pursue an objective. It’s just not his fault they can’t keep it from coming home with them. That’s a clear failure of whoever does their mental health assessments.

You sip your coffee and watch John crack eggs into a pan. He keeps glancing at you, and his smile flickers on a little longer each time that he catches you looking back, until he doesn’t stop smiling, and just looks happy, glad to have you there, even if you’re just keeping a silent vigil on the other side of the room.

It's not like you have anywhere to go. It'll take days at least to feel like you haven't just been in a car crash, and days more to locate everything to pack it back up. So long as you don't have to share a bed with John again, you think you could live with this, for at least a week. It can't be that terrible, so long as the others leave you alone. You rather hope they just leave. If you asked, would John send them away?

"John," you say as he sets a plate with buttered toast and a couple of eggs on it in front of you, and sets a couple tablets of paracetamol beside your plate. "If I stay… Will they be staying too?"

"I'm going to have them leave this afternoon. That alright with you? We can go for a walk to the neighbours while they pack up, if you're up for it. Maybe dr-- Well, not drive." He sets his own plate down and sits next to you, handing you a knife and a fork. “Have to get that sorted out. But the neighbours-- Rob and Melissa-- Their dog just had puppies a few weeks ago. Do you like dogs?”

You nod, breaking the yolks of one of the eggs with a corner of toast. "My parents had a dog when I was growing up. Some kind of German shepherd cross. Best boy. His name was Rob Roy, because he was a wee outlaw. Mam found him digging in the trash and--" you stop and give John a baleful look. "Sorry. That was more than you were asking."

"No, that's the most you've said at once this whole time. I'd listen to you talk all day, doll. Don't ever apologize."

"Sorry I-- Oh, shit, sorry--" you press your fingers to your mouth, cutting yourself off. "Force of habit."

"I'd like to see you lose that one. You have nothin' to apologize for. Not one damn thing, and especially not talking. I think you have the prettiest voice I've ever heard."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help smiling. "You're just saying that."

He touches your arm lightly. "You don't know me too well yet, doll, but I never just say anything."

Yet hangs in the air, heavy and deliberate. He wants you to know him, wants you to stay with him, wants you to like him. Even if it makes no sense, the offer is tempting. It's been a long time since you've let someone get close— You've had the occasional fling, and the odd reunion with an ex that you’d stayed friends with, but grief is like a canyon you can't bear to cross. What if you love someone and you lose them, the way you lost your parents? How could you live with that all over again?

Still, there's something that feels like warm sunlight in his smile, and you can't help but incline toward him, slowly but surely reaching for the light. No one can live in the shade forever. There’s no nobility in suffering.

So you let yourself talk, at least a little. And he listens, hanging on to your words like they're precious, gazing at you with something unfurling in his expression that you can't name. You're almost afraid to try.

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#Retirement Party #Chapter 4 - Runaway #Whoops forgor to do this earlier #sorry friends I shouldn't make self-imposed deadlines I know the guy that sets em and he's a pushover #Doll girl you are doomed do not let that man give you the big hopeful blue eyes he is TROUBLE #Seriously though what is WRONG with these guys they are not making good decisions even a little #dark fic #cod mw fanfiction #john price x reader #OC: Doll #x reader #Sorry she's become more of a character and it's harder to deny her personhood for the x reader bit #so hopefully you can just enjoy being Doll for a hot minute

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sierrale8ne · 2 months ago

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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER ONE

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

warnings maraye’s b*****end

May 2025 — New York City, New York

“5 minutes, Carter! You’re on in 10!” I hear my manager, Kaylee, speak from behind me. She didn’t even look up from her phone.

I’m seated backstage at The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon getting ready to go out on stage for my segment of the show. My ready room is packed. Heavy makeup cases and hair products sit on the vanity and nearby tables. My hair and makeup and stylist people moving in and out of the room to get me picture perfect.

“I’ll see you when you get off. Good luck out there, beautiful.”

“Thank you.” I respond, feeling a soft pair of lips press against my cheek.

It’s my— I don’t even know what to call him— boyfriend, Julian. We’d been going out for a bit , no longer than around three months, but nothing had been made officially-official yet. His full head of curly brown hair tickles my eyebrow when he kisses me, bringing a flush to my already pinked cheeks. He walks out of the ready room, I assume to his seat out in the audience alongside my sister Casandra.

My hand goes up to my cheek, up against where his lips left a sloppy mark against my makeup. My makeup artist, Tyler, swats my hand away before I can smudge what he just spent two hours working on.

“He’s gonna ask you about him.” Kaylee’s voice cuts through the air.

“What?”

“Jimmy. He’s gonna ask you about Julian. Not directly, of course, but he’ll ask if you have a muse and blah blah blah.” Her work phone slips into the back pocket of her wind leg jeans. The click of the black heels on her feet grow louder as she approaches me. “Don’t answer, say you get inspired by a ton of things but not anyone in particular.”

My face twists up. “Why should I do that?”

Kaylee sighs. We’ve talked about this a multitude of times, and I can tell it irritates her more and more each time I pry. My career is based on sharing my most vulnerable and intimate moments with people all over the world. I didn’t mind sharing if someone had influenced my music or not.

“It keeps the interview focused on you and how amazing you’ve been so far this year. If you do that, it’s gonna be about your relationship. You don’t want that, I promise you.” Kaylee explains.

I nod understandably, but my mind thinks to the future conversation Julian and I are most likely going to have about me not claiming him publicly. A conversation we’ve had too many times for my liking, for only being a few months in.

Oh, and unofficial might I add.

The creak of the heavy white door opening pulls us out of our conversation. There’s a man in a white Polo and black slacks with a headset on. “Call time. Let’s get you out there, Maraye.” He speaks.

I nod, standing up from my seat. I quickly brush a hand over my hair, making sure that any flyaways from my jet black side part unit stay down where they should be.

“Go get ‘em, Carter.” Kaylee encourages, rubbing my back softly and smiling her soft comforting smile.

—

“Fresh off of her first studio album release, please give a warm welcome to our next guest, Maraye!”

The start of The Roots introduction music is my cue to walk out, and I do. The Amina Muaddi heels on my feet moving across the black stage. My dress is a nice maroon color, a sleeveless u-neck top that fits my body like a glove.

I smile out to the live audience, waving my hand before taking a set on the blue-gray couch. The applause dies down and Jimmy looks over at me, the cover of my latest album, ‘f*** daisies' is propped up between his hands on the wood table.

“Thank you so much for having me!” I greet, crossing one of my legs over the other.

“No, thank you, for coming out! I wanna jump right into this,” he speaks. The camera pans to the album cover. “Because this album has taken the internet by storm in the last month that it’s been out.”

“Yeah. It’s been very surreal. I’ve had EP’s that have done great, but all the love on this album has been incredible.”

The audience breaks out into more cheers and applause and I feel my heart nearly triple in size.

To say my life had taken a complete 180° turn in the last five months would be an understatement. From spending last fall on tour with Kehlani, to getting my communications degree from the University of Southern California, and now the release of my album. I was truly blessed and grateful.

“What’s so impressive about all of this is that you’re only 22 years old, and you have three songs off this project that have spots on the billboard top 15.” Jimmy praises. “Out of those three—f*** daisies, SOS (Sex on Sight), and Unpredictable with your good friend Destin Conrad— which one would you say was your favorite to make?”

I take a deep breath, my eyebrows furrow with a look of thoughtfulness which makes the audience laugh.

“Probably SOS. To have Usher featured on that song was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. And I’m from Atlanta, so having an ATL legend on my first project was huge.” I answer.

“Did you, y'know, learn anything from him for future music?”

“The way he works with layering his vocals was unbelievable. I think that’s why SOS is one of my favorite works, the harmonies on that song are unreal and I give all credit to him.”

“Would you say that this song had a muse? I work for the people, so I have to ask.” Jimmy teases, and I force a smile. I could just hear Kaylee’s voice in the back of my head screaming I told you so.

I shift in my seat. My eyes bounced from him, to the man I had coined my boyfriend sitting in the audience. “I use a ton of experiences for inspiration in my music. Things that have happened to me but also to those around me.” I start.

From the corner of my eye I see Julian, the red button up that covers his shoulders and his gold cross chain keeps him in my view perfectly. He moves in his seat and I just know he’s uncomfortable, or angered, or something else that I can’t really bring myself to care about with all these cameras pointing at me right now.

“So I wouldn’t say it came from anyone in particular. I probably just had a little too much wine that night.” I joke, keeping the atmosphere lively and energetic.

Jimmy laughs and The Roots play some sort of jingle in the background, both of which make me release a breath I didn't know I had been holding.

“Well we all can’t wait for more music from you Maraye. Everyone stay tuned, Maraye will be giving us a special performance of SOS when we come back from the break!”

—

May 2025 — Los Angeles, California

It’s later at night, 9pm when I finally take a seat on my living room couch. The recently rented apartment smelled like vanilla thanks to the candle Rickea decided to light while I was grabbing the pizza.

Why my teammate decided to surprise visit me when I could be resting for our season opener tomorrow night was beyond me. I thought it must be a little rookie hazing, messing me up for the first game, but I wouldn’t tell them that.

Cameron was here too, a massage gun up near her still recovering knee.

I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, listening partially to what Rickea was telling me about tomorrow’s plans. Some sitcom played on the tv, or a talk show. Again, I wasn’t very sure.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” Rickea yelled. She dropped down on the couch, nudging me enough to drop my phone from my grasp. “Your first pro game is tomorrow! Can you act excited?”

“I am excited!” I shot back, playfully pushing her back off of me. “You’re just yelling in my ear right now, ‘Kea.”

“Ugh they grow up so fast.” Cameron speaks up. She wipes her eyes from fake unshed tears. I roll my eyes at them both. These cannot be my teammates.

“I’m older than you?”

“And yet, you’re a rookie and I’m not. Matter of fact, come massage my knee for me, rook.”

I reach for the pillow closest to my right and throw it at her before she can even blink. Which she retaliates for by tossing one back at me.

“Okay enough! God, you guys are children.” Rickea interjects. Her hand reaches for the TV remote. “Tryna watch my friend on TV and y’all wanna act like fools.”

“Do it at your place then! The fuck?”

Rickea pushes me towards the other end of the couch, and I huff and flop against it. Cam begins to laugh. I reach over for another pillow but she stops, raising her arms in defense.

The volume on the screen in front of me increases, but this time I play attention. Jimmy Fallon is on, and his introduction of whoever is the guest tonight cuts through the air. After a few seconds of silence that’s when I see it.

Suddenly I’ve never found a late night talk show so interesting.

“That’s yo’ friend?” I ask Rickea. And she squeals, like a schoolgirl, ignoring my question. “‘Kea?”

“Yeah, ‘Raye! Doesn’t she look so pretty?” She asks no one in particular. But I still find myself slyly nodding.

I listen intently to her voice, and how she sings the very sensual song beautifully. She was harmonizing with her background vocalists in a way that made my jaw drop. And suddenly, I’m pissed at myself for not only not having this song in my library, but also for knowing whose voice is mesmerizing me right now.

And even more than that, she’s stunning.

The lighting of the stage she sings on gives an illusion like she’s glowing. Or maybe she actually is. My eyes physically cannot leave the screen. She is in a maroon dress and just when I think I can’t be anymore enamored with the sight, the camera pans out to her entire body.

I didn't even realize that her performance was over until a commercial cuts on.

“Ain’t she just incredible.” Rickea cheeses at her friend like a proud mother.

Cam agrees with her. “She’s running my playlist right now.”

“Paige?”

“Huh?”

“I said she’s good right? You like R&B, you should hop on the Maraye train.” Rickea teases and I think that she didn’t pick up on my obvious drooling for the last five minutes. “I promise not all her songs are freaky.”

I clear my throat, nodding at her.

“No, yeah, she’s,” suddenly any possible descriptors that I could use at the moment are stuck in the back of my throat.

“She’s incredible.”

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #uconn wbb #la sparks #lesbian #my fic #40 days and 40 nights

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daisyblog · 2 months ago

Text

Juno

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN loves Sabrina Carpenter’s album…in particular the lyric “One of me is cute, but two though?”.

Based on this request.

TikTok:

Sabrina Carpenters album Short n’ Sweet had been playing on repeat in the Styles household, thanks to YN. Harry didn’t mind, he quite enjoyed coming downstairs and seeing YN singing and dancing in the kitchen.

YN often records videos of the mundane things through out the day, some she posts whilst others stay in her drafts.

With Juno playing in the background, YN and Grace gently danced around their open plan kitchen, YN singing along and smiling as she spotted Harry walking towards them.

I know you want my touch for life…If you love me right, then who knows?…I might let you make me Juno

Harry leant against the doorframe of the kitchen, a light smile on his lips as he watch his wife and baby daughter happily move around the kitchen.

You know I just might…Let you lock me down tonight

He couldn’t help but think that he had saw a glimpse into his future of watching the special bond YN and Grace have, both looking at each other in awe.

One of me is cute, but two though?

YN pointed to both her and Grace as their identical faces walked closer to Harry, making his smile only grow bigger.

Give it to me, baby…You make me wanna make you fall in love

The famous smirk grew on Harry’s face as his cheekiness set in. “Isn’t that what you said the night at the festival? Give it to me baby”. Harry playfully mocked YN’s voice in teasing.

YN’s jaw dropped as her dancing came to a stop as she was taken back by Harry’s boldness. “Bubs!”.

“It was…plus we had a great time…baby dancing”.

Instagram:

ynstyles

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 3,677,239 others

ynstyles one of me is cute, but two though?💕 View all 7,523 comments

lottietomlinson the cutest🤍

annetwist Absolutely precious💞We definitely need more than two of you xx ⌞ynstyles You heard your mother😌 harrystyles ⌞harrystyles You know I love baby dancing, and I know you do too😉 ⌞annetwist Harry! ⌞ynharryupdates Baby Styles no2???

louist91 Missing my Gracie-Lou!! X ⌞ynstyles She misses her uncle Louis more🤍

gemmastyles Aw my heart just melted🥹

louisfan5 The Tomlinson genes are strong!

harryfan7 Grace looks exactly like YN🥰🥰

niallhoran Grace is definitely cuter❤️ ⌞ynstyles Obviously🥹🥰

sabrinacarpenter two cuties 💋

Tag List:

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats@harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour@bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl@buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream@treehouse-mouse @mrs-anna-styles211994 @macy-tpwk

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moutainrusing · 4 months ago

Text

pen pals

943 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

On the other side of town, there was a hospital, where children in need of long-term care spent their days and nights. On this side of town, there was a boarding school, where children in need of discipline spent their days and nights.

As an act of further discipline, the Headteacher, Professor McGonagall, had decided that the students of Diagon Academy should write a letter to a patient in Pomfrey’s Hospital, and forge a new friendship, become pen pals for life.

According to Sirius, she was delusional. But he still wrote a letter.

- - -

With his incredibly bony, stick-like, shaking fingers, Remus wrote a letter to someone in the rich, stuffy boarding school, who would apparently become his pen pal for life. (Unlikely.) Firstly, he was Remus. No one wanted to be his friend. Even if they weren’t in their right mind, he was a sick, frail loser, unable to do anything except stutter and sit in awkward silence.

Secondly, the people at Diagon Academy were judgemental snobs. Posh and pretentious and loaded. Why would he befriend that?

- - -

Minerva and Poppy sorted through the letters in companionable chatter, pairing a student with a patient in a match they hoped would lead to a long-lasting friendship.

Once the pairs had been made, the children could keep addressing letters to their pen pal; the school Prefects and hospital wardens would be able to deliver the letters by reading the name on the envelope, ensuring the children got the privacy they needed to open up to each other.

Minerva wanted the slightly troubled (okay, very troubled) students at her school to learn how to care for someone who didn’t live in their narrow-minded world, and Poppy wanted the minorly self-loathing (okay, very self-loathing) patients at her hospital to open up to the possibilities of the world around them. Together, the couple had come up with the idea of pen pals, and together, they wanted this to work so badly.

“I think we’ve found the perfect pair,” Minerva commented as she held Remus’s and Sirius’s letters side-by-side.

Poppy grinned. “I bet those two’ll end up more than friends.”

- - -

Dear pen pal (for life, apparently; I think the nurse may be barmy, but she’s well-intentioned and she’s my favourite and I want it to be known that I am doing this for her. So if I make an embarrassment of myself, it was for her. And I’ll never even get out of this hospital, so I don’t care if you think I’m weird.)

I’m supposed to write about myself. I’m fifteen. I’m a boy. I’ve been sick for as long as I can remember and I look like undercooked pastry. I like reading. There’s not a lot you can do in hospital. But you do get stickers. I’m actually fond of my sticker album. You get a sticker for every injection you take, and when I was younger, I used to get stickers for talking, because I was and am an anti-social freak. I’m really selling this.

Anyway, I’ve organised the pages of my sticker album because I have nothing better to do. There’s a page for leaves from deciduous trees, animals that specifically live in the savanna, fruits which are FRUITS and that includes tomatoes, and a lot of other fully sorted pages. This is my legacy. I might die any day but I still made this impact.

Look, if you’ve read this far, I’ll have to assume you’re as weird as I am.

Yours,

Remus Lupin

Sirius traced over the wobbly penmanship of his pen pal with a grin on his face. Remus was funny. And nice. Those seemed like such simple adjectives, but Sirius meant them to such an intense degree.

He got to writing back about how he was so much weirder than Remus. Although Remus must already know that from Sirius’s introductory letter.

- - -

Dear pen pal,

Minnie, our lovely Headteacher, and my future wife, even though she’s resistant to my charms at the moment (I don’t know why, I’m literally the hottest hunk of meat in this school I’m kidding sorry too soon) (also it may be because she’s gay and so am I) anyway, Minnie came up with the fanciful idea of pen pals. She really hopes this will mean something, and I don’t wanna let her down now, do I?

I mean, I also hope this means something because she has POISONED my brain with these delusional fantasies, and so has my best mate. James really believes this will benefit the country or something from the way he talks.

So, about myself. (It may seem I like talking about myself. I hate it. I’d rather show people who I am.) So, I’m not gonna talk about myself! I’m mysterious like that. Oh-so-interesting.

Like, yesterday, James and I put bouillon cubes into all the shower-heads and the boys ended up smelling like chicken broth (us included). It was fucking GROSS. And fucking awesome. Minnie immediately knew it was us though. My mystery works on everyone but her (another reason we’re soulmates, I should tell her).

LOTS OF LOVE

SIRIUS BLACK, EL AMOR DE TU VIDA

Remus actually snorted. He’d been worried, initially, to see ‘POISONED’ glaring at him in swirling cursive when he cast a cursory glance down the letter, but then he saw ‘THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE’ in Spanish, and found that Sirius was a hyperbolic little shit.

He proceeded to write a letter to tell him exactly that. Oh, and another prank idea, because why not? It wasn’t like he’d be suspected. Maybe he could help Sirius and James with an original idea that couldn’t possibly be pinned on them.

#marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #remus x sirius #microfiction #wolfstar microfic #minerva mcgonagall #poppy pomfrey #professor mcgonagall #madame pomfrey #minerva x poppy

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puppym3 · 4 months ago

Note

heyaaa!!! if u still do requests, i have a request for minho! if u also havent done this one, but what if u do their song "i like it" about minho ??

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

── .✦ 'i love that i like you, but i don't wanna love'

minho x reader

wc: 4.1k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, situationship, fwb, angsty, one-sided pining, minho is an asshole, "i can fix him" reader, awkward, reader is so delusional at the start it's funny, hurt comfort, late confessions, fluffy at end, i heal ur wounds dw, (lmk if i missed any)

a/n: omg anon ur trying to break my heart, as a hopeless romantic this might be my first ever sort of angsty piece. but either way i love "i like it" its literally been on repeat its probs one of my favorites from the album. i loved writing this so much you have no idea, THANK YOU for suggesting!

reminder to not be too delulu, these are just fictional stories that i write to show off my creative writing!! also i have a taglist if you're interested!!!!!

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

The city lights glimmered through the window, casting a soft glow across Minho's apartment. The hum of the city outside was a constant reminder of the world continuing on, regardless of the turmoil within. You lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, Minho's arm draped lazily over your waist. The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air, a mix of comfort and longing that you had come to know too well.

"Hey," Minho's voice broke through your thoughts. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with those piercing eyes that always seemed to see right through you. "You okay?"

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. "Yeah, just thinking."

He sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

That was the problem. Talking meant opening up, and opening up meant risking the fragile balance you had. Friends with benefits, a situationship, whatever it was, it worked because there were no labels, no expectations. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.

"Minho," you started, hesitating. The words felt heavy on your tongue, a mix of hope and fear. "What are we doing?"

His expression softened, but there was a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe?—in his eyes. "We're having fun, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but..." You sat up, pulling the sheets around you like a shield. "Is that all this is? Just fun?"

He ran a hand through his hair, a habit you had come to recognize as his way of stalling for time. "I like what we have, you know that. I just... I,"

You swallowed hard, the words stinging more than you wanted to admit. "And what if I want more?"

Minho's gaze dropped, his silence louder than any answer he could give. 'I like you'—if only it were that easy.

"I can't do this forever, Minho," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I need to know if there's a future here, or if I'm just fooling myself."

He looked back at you, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and confusion. "I'm not ready for anything more right now."

The words hung in the air, a painful confirmation of your deepest fears. You nodded slowly, the ache in your chest spreading. "I understand."

As you got dressed and prepared to leave, Minho reached out, his hand catching yours. "Wait, don't go like this."

You paused, looking at him one last time. "I need to go think."

With that, you slipped out of his grasp, each step away from him feeling heavier than the last. The door closed behind you, the finality of it echoing in the empty hallway.

That night, you cried until your eyes were raw and your head ached until there were no tears left and all that was left was an empty feeling in your chest.

"What are you doing here?"

You saw your best friend standing in your doorway, her brow furrowed with worry. "I needed to see you, you didn't pick up any calls."

You felt the tears starting to form again as she pulled you into her arms. "I'm an idiot," you managed to say in between sobs.

She gently patted your back. "You're not an idiot, he's the idiot."

"He's not an idiot," you said softly.

She held you at arm's length, looking into your eyes. "Then tell me what happened. What has your eyes all puffy at 9 in the morning?"

"He wants to be just friends, that's all." you sighed.

"What?" her brows furrowed. "I thought you liked each other? What's stopping him?"

"I asked what he wants to be, and he said 'he's not ready for anything'."

She groaned, "he doesn't deserve you"

You let out a deep breath. "He doesn't, does he? But, I like him."

"Why are you putting yourself through this?" She said with worry in her eyes as she traced circles on your back.

"I wanted to fight for him, but every time I end up in his bed, I hurt myself more."

"Fight for him?"

You nodded slowly, your resolve hardening as you said the words aloud. "I'm going to fight for him."

She rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "And how are you going to do that?"

You hesitated, realizing that you hadn't thought that far ahead. "I guess I'll... call him? No, no that would be awkward... maybe I'll just stop by his apartment and—"

She raised an eyebrow, looking at you pointedly. "And what, you're gonna sleep with him again? What would that do?"

Your cheeks flushed. "Okay, no. Maybe I'll take him out to coffee? No, that's too casual. Maybe dinner?"

"Dinner would be good."

"Dinner would be good," you agreed, a hint of nervousness creeping into your voice.

Your best friend put her arm around your shoulder and gave you a reassuring squeeze. "You shouldn't be doing this, but I support you."

"Thank you."

She shook her head, laughing softly. "If it doesn't work, we're gonna eat so much comfort food tonight."

That afternoon, you paced around your apartment, phone in hand as you tried to muster up the courage to call Minho. Your best friend's words echoed in your mind, reminding you of the risk you were taking. With a deep breath, you hit the call button.

As the phone rang, you felt your heart pounding in your chest, your palms growing clammy. After what felt like an eternity, the familiar sound of Minho's voice filled your ear.

"Hey, it's me." You paused, gathering your thoughts. "I wanted to apologize for the other night. I was upset and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

You could hear the hesitance in his voice as he replied, "No, it's alright. I'm sorry, too."

"Can I take you out for dinner? I think we need to talk about things." You held your breath, waiting for his response.

"Yeah... I think that'd be okay," he said after a moment, "When?"

"I'm free tonight," you offered, trying to hide the hopeful note in your voice.

There was a long silence before Minho spoke again, "Okay, I'll see you at 6."

You hung up, the finality of the words hitting you. Was this your last chance?

The minutes passed by slowly, your anticipation building with each passing minute. Finally, 6 o'clock came around, and you made your way to the restaurant. You took a deep breath, steadying your nerves as you pushed open the doors.

You spotted Minho seated at a table, and made your way over to him. He stood as you approached, smiling.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Hey." You swallowed, trying to find your words. "I, I've missed you."

Minho looked away, a mix of emotions on his face. "It's been a day."

You laughed, trying to ease the tension. "Oh, right."

There was a moment of awkward silence before Minho finally spoke again, his voice barely a whisper.

"I think I missed you too."

You looked at him, the realization dawning on you. He had missed you too. It was something, he at least thought about you during day. "Minho—"

He looked up, meeting your gaze. "What is it?"

"I just..." You took a deep breath. "I don't want to lose what we have. But if that means being friends, then that's what we'll do. Because I can't stand losing you completely."

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes filled with surprise. Then he nodded slowly. "I don't want to lose what we have as well."

Your chest ached, but you smiled anyway, grateful for the small victory. You would be fine with it. You could be fine with it if that's all you could ever get.

"But," you started, an idea coming to your mind, "if I get a boyfriend, we'll stop whatever this is."

Minho blinked, the words sinking in. He took a moment, contemplating. Then he nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

His expression was unreadable, was he upset? Or was he fine with the idea of never speaking to you again?

Your heart sank at the thought, did he really feel nothing at all for you?

You forced yourself to smile, trying to hide the ache in your chest. "Thank you," you said softly.

Minho smiled, but you could tell it was forced. You excused yourself and went to the washroom to splash cold water on your face, trying to stop the tears that threatened to spill.

You had to leave, you had to get out of here. You made your way outside, the cool night air helping to calm you.

You leaned against the wall, taking a shaky breath as you tried to hold back the tears. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heartbeat.

You forced yourself to come to reality with all of this, you ran home without thinking twice. You had to end all of this now and leave before you ended up in his bed again.

You slammed your front door shut, locking the deadbolt and falling on the ground crying. The tears wouldn't stop flowing, it felt like a river of emotion that was overwhelming you. You were so scared of losing him, of not having him in your life. You sat on the ground for what felt like an eternity, trying to make sense of your emotions.

Getting rid of him now was the only way, the only way you'd survive without being broken-hearted. You dragged yourself to bed and cried yourself to sleep, clutching the pillow and blankets like they were your lifeline.

A week had already passed. You did your best to stay busy, trying to distract yourself from thinking about Minho. You had blocked his number, so you had no idea if he had tried to reach out to you at all.

Your best friend had been beside you to keep you from losing your mind completely or unblocking his number.

The two of you decided to watch movies all weekend long to take your minds off the situation, which helped for a while, but now that it was Monday and you were back at work, you felt like a walking zombie.

Your thoughts drifted to Minho throughout the day, wondering what he was doing, if he had moved on yet, or if he still thought of you at all.

You pushed the thoughts out of your head, trying to focus on your work. But it was no use. He was constantly in your mind, even though you knew there was no point in thinking of him.

You closed your eyes, letting your mind wander back to when things were still good between the two of you, the feeling of his tender hands on your body and his soft lips against yours. You remembered his words, 'I like what we have.' Did he mean it? Did he still think that after everything that happened? Or were they just words?

You opened your eyes, tears forming again as you stared out the window, lost in thought.

The clock seemed to move agonizingly slowly, but eventually, your workday came to an end, and you gathered your things to head home. You took a deep breath before heading out the door, bracing yourself for another long, lonely night.

You walked slowly through the dark streets, lost in your thoughts. You came across a familiar intersection, and you hesitated, memories of Minho flooding your mind.

The two of you used to take this route back to your apartment when he would walk you home from work. You stood in the middle of the empty intersection, staring at the stoplight, debating on whether to continue home or take the long way to your apartment, the way the two of you used to take.

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts. It was silly, getting hung up on someone that didn't even care.

You crossed the street, heading in the direction of your apartment. You glanced down the familiar route, memories of the two of you talking about the stupidest things.

You closed your eyes and sighed, a pang of longing hitting you. You missed him so much, more than you had ever expected.

You kept your eyes closed, your mind replaying memories of Minho as you walked home. It hurt to think about, but it also hurt not to think about him.

The two of you were inseparable, even when you fell in love with him, he enabled your feelings, kissing you, touching you, and sharing nights with you.

He was so easy to love. And he was so easy to lose.

You opened your eyes as you reached your apartment, the familiar surroundings providing you with a sense of comfort.

You trudged up the stairs, feeling more drained than you had all week. You reached your apartment, the familiar walls surrounding you like a warm embrace.

You threw your keys onto the table, slumping down in a chair and closing your eyes.

You breathed in the comforting scent of home, the ache in your chest still lingering, but you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You were home.

You sat for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being at home after a long day at work. The quiet was comforting, a contrast to the busy, loud environment you'd spent your day in. You sat with your eyes closed for a few minutes, allowing your thoughts to settle.

You heard a faint knock on your front door. Your heart stopped, and you shot up out of your chair, hesitantly walking to the door.

You paused, taking a deep breath before opening it, knowing you couldn't keep it locked forever.

"Minho." The word slipped out before you could stop it, your voice a mix of surprise and pain.

Minho's face was somber, his expression unreadable as he spoke.

"I think I love you."

His voice was soft, the words tinged with sadness. You looked into his eyes, seeing the pain there.

You took a deep breath, your heart aching. You opened your mouth to reply, but he continued, the words pouring out of him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it would feel so painful to not see you, or hear your voice, or touch you. I just couldn't stop thinking about you, about how you made me feel."

You couldn't hold back the tears any longer as his words filled your ears, your chest aching more than it had in a long time.

You bit your lip, trying to stay calm. Is this real, or are you dreaming? Did he come back to fuck with your feelings?

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of pain and happiness flooding you as you looked into his eyes, trying to see if he was sincere.

His face was pained, his expression vulnerable as he stood in your doorway. You hesitated, trying to find the words to say.

He stepped closer to you, closing the space between you, the proximity causing your heart to skip a beat.

"I liked what we had, that part is true. But I never realized how I felt until you disappeared from my life."

You tried to breathe evenly as he reached out to take your hands, his touch gentle as he spoke again.

"I know I've been selfish this entire time, but I miss you. I miss everything about you."

His words pierced through your heart, leaving you speechless. You were frozen in place, trying to comprehend his words.

Minho closed his eyes, a small smile forming on his face. "I missed you."

The two of you stood in silence for a few seconds, his hands holding yours tightly as he stared into your eyes, his gaze softening as you finally managed to reply.

"I missed you, too."

Without hesitation, you grabbed his face and pulled him in, crashing your lips together as his hands pulled you close to him, holding you as if you would disappear any second.

Your hands moved from his face to the nape of his neck as the kiss grew deeper, his lips parting as the two of you explored each other's mouths.

Minho's hands roamed your body as yours did his, a familiar warmth spreading through your body as you gave yourself to him once again.

You broke apart for air, panting as you tried to catch your breath. The two of you stood there in your doorway for a moment, catching your breaths and staring at each other, neither one wanting to let go.

You were still unsure of where your relationship stood, but as Minho's hand reached for your waist once more and pulled you close, his lips capturing yours again, all your worries seemed to disappear.

He guided you into your apartment, shutting the door behind him and backing you against the wall. Your hands found the back of his head once again as you melted into his touch, his kisses filled with longing.

His hand wandered up your back and into your hair as his other hand rested on your hip, a soft groan escaping his lips as the kiss grew deeper. You wrapped your leg around his, your body pressing against him as you held him close, trying to convey the emotions you couldn't put into words.

After a few minutes, you finally broke the kiss, looking into his eyes as you both panted softly. Your chest was pounding as you looked up at him, trying to read his expression.

He smiled softly at you, his face flushed from the intensity of the kiss. His eyes met yours and held your gaze, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair.

He reached up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb caressing your cheek as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your forehead.

You felt a familiar warmth spreading through your chest at his touch, a small smile forming on your lips as you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. You leaned into him, your chest pressing against his as you hugged him tightly, your cheek resting against his.

He hugged you back, his arms wrapping around you as you nuzzled your nose against his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, enjoying each other's warmth and closeness, the silence broken only by the soft sound of his heart beating.

The two of you stood in each other's arms for what felt like an eternity, but could have been minutes or hours. Time didn't exist anymore as the two of you held onto each other, neither one wanting to let go.

Finally, you reluctantly pulled away, looking into his eyes as you spoke. "We should probably talk properly."

His eyes searched yours, his expression serious as he nodded, a hint of hesitation in his voice. "Okay," he said softly.

You nodded, stepping away from him and moving to the living room, the distance between the two of you growing again. You sat down on the couch, your hands resting in your lap as you stared down at them.

Minho sat down next to you, his body tense as he watched you.

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes as you gathered your thoughts. You opened your mouth to speak, but the words seemed to get caught in your throat, your voice coming out barely louder than a whisper. "I've loved you ever since we started sleeping together."

Minho's eyes widened slightly as he stared at you, his mouth slightly agape as your words registered with him. You felt a familiar pang of sadness in your chest as you remembered that time.

He looked down, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you say anything?"

You bit your lip, struggling to find the right words. "I thought you knew. I would always bring up going further with you, but you dismissed me."

You looked down, fidgeting with your hands as you tried to hold back tears. "I just thought things would change if we put labels on things."

The silence in the air grew deafening as you looked up, your heart pounding as you saw tears forming in Minho's eyes. He reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch light and reassuring.

"But I want those labels now, all of them," he whispered. "I'm so sorry I made you feel that way."

The tears that had been threatening to fall finally began to trickle down your cheeks as you looked up at him. "Minho, I thought you felt nothing for me."

He reached out and gently brushed the tears away from your face, his eyes filled with concern as he stared into your eyes.

Minho took a deep breath before continuing. "I know I've hurt you, but I never want to see you cry again."

Your chest ached as you tried to process his words. It was as if everything you had gone through since the 'break-up' was suddenly erased, as if none of it had mattered. You stared into his eyes, trying to figure out what to say.

Minho's lips curved up into a small smile as he cupped your cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumb as he gazed into your eyes.

You reached up and wrapped your hands around his, holding onto them tightly as you felt a familiar warmth spreading through your chest at his touch.

"I want to try and start again, as your boyfriend," he said softly, placing a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

You felt your heart racing as the words left his mouth, your chest tightening as he looked into your eyes, searching for your reaction.

You took a deep breath, your eyes closing for a second as you tried to steady yourself, the words that left his mouth feeling almost unreal. "Minho," you breathed. "Is this real? Are you serious?"

A smile broke out onto his face as he nodded. "If you'll let me, yes."

Without saying a word, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him into a kiss as your heart raced, the tears on your face now dried.

Minho kissed you back with equal intensity, his hands cupping your face as your hands tangled themselves into his hair. The kiss was soft and filled with longing as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment.

As your lips parted, you felt Minho's forehead pressed against yours as his hands traced down to the small of your back, holding you close. You closed your eyes and smiled, relishing the feeling of being in his arms once again.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he held you, the two of you taking in the feeling of each other. It had only been a week, but it felt like a lifetime had passed.

"I'm your girlfriend now?" you asked hesitantly, still not sure if this was all real.

Minho laughed softly as he nodded. "You're my girlfriend," he confirmed, his voice filled with affection.

You laughed and leaned back, taking in his expression and memorizing the look in his eyes, feeling a warmth in your heart you hadn't felt for a while.

He suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up with ease as you shrieked in surprise. He carried you to the bed and gently placed you down on the mattress as if you were made of glass, the mattress shifting from the weight of his body as he moved to lie beside you.

"What do we do now?" you asked softly as his hands cupped your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your lips as he leaned in for a tender kiss.

When he broke away, you found yourself expecting more, but he simply smiled at you as he laid back down and pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you.

"This is all I want to do," he whispered, nuzzling your neck and kissing it lightly. "I want to fall asleep holding you and wake up beside you in the morning."

His words were tender as they reached your ears, making your heart melt.

"Okay," you breathed, pressing a kiss on his cheek and turning around so your back was facing his chest. You snuggled closer to him as he pulled you close, his hands resting on your abdomen and holding you tightly as he buried his face into your neck, kissing it.

You breathed in deeply, his scent surrounding you as your heart swelled with affection.

"Good night, I love you."

His voice was soft, but you could feel the emotion behind the words. You let out a soft sigh as your eyelids fluttered shut, the feeling of Minho holding you lulling you to sleep.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

#skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz angst #skz lee minho #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know #lee minho #skz minho #minho

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twice-inamillion · 9 months ago

Text

The Company

Recruitment

Light smut and Story Building

Chapter 7

1,360 Words

(You take Jennie’s opinion into consideration and look for a reliable flight attendant. Some important decisions are made for the future of the company and a possible recruitment of someone special.)

A few days have passed since you and Jennie fucked for the first time. The morning after, Jennie complained of soreness from your length and how wide you stretched her, “Daddy, I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk correctly for the next few days. Is it okay if I take a day or two off?”

You smile at Jennie and smack her ass, “Sure. You can tell your members you have a stomach bug, and I’ll let the coach know the group will take a break from practice.

“Thanks, Daddy,” giving you a hug.

The first thing she did after recuperating was text you early in the morning, “Daddy, I’m all better now. How about going another round?”

You message her back, “It’s 6 in the morning, and you’re thinking about sex?”

“Yes, these past two days, I couldn’t think about anything besides your big cock stretching my small pussy.”

“Okay, how about tonight?”

“Actually, I’m outside your door, hehe”

You roll your eyes, get up from bed, walk towards the door, and check the screen, “Daddy, open up.” Jennie immediately lunges herself at you after you open the door, “Daddy, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, but you’re up so early.”

“It’s the only time I can sneak out without the members noticing.”

You smirk at her and say, “You’re a bad girl. Daddy needs to punish you for sneaking out.”

Jennie smiles, and your comment, “Daddy needs to punish me with his big cock. He should fuck me roughly and pump me with cum.”

You don’t even respond and instead, pick her up, walk towards the guest room, and toss her onto the bed.

The two of you fuck until eight in the morning, showering together and having a light breakfast. “What are you reading there?”

“Just some resumes. I just purchased an airplane and am now looking for a flight attendant. These are some resumes I got sent over by one of my assistants.”

Jennie looks over your shoulder at the various applicants' pictures, “Oh, she looks pretty,” she says as she gets one of the applications.

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you can see it in her eyes.”

“Hmm… you might be right.”

“What about hiring Jisoo’s sister? She’s about to graduate from flight attendant school.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, she’s really pretty. With her pale white skin and nice body, she might be your type.”

“Do you have a picture of her?”

Jennie pulls out her phone and scrolls through her photo album of Jisoo with her sister, “Here, take a look.”

“Wow, she's beautiful.”

“Right? You should hire her. Did you know that many flight attendants struggle to find work because it's a competitive field?”

“No, I didn’t know. Maybe I’ll let one of my assistants contact her.”

“I’ll ask Jisoo about it and let you know.”

“Thanks.”

——————

“Sir, Bang Si-hyuk replied back.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that he accepts your offer and is more than happy to partner with us.”

“Good, get the paperwork ready so we can have a final meeting. Also, tell him that I want to invest in his boy group, the one with the seven members.”

“Yes, I’ll get right on it.”

“What about Park Jin-young?”

He replied too, but asked for a bit more funding.”

“How much does he want?”

“About ten or fifteen percent more.”

“Haha, that man is greedy.”

“He is, sir; what do you want me to reply?”

“Tell him that I’ll accept, but I want the full transfer of his upcoming girl group to our site and any other female trainee in the future. I’ll send you more information.

“Thank you, sir.”

——————

A few weeks went by since Jennie mentioned Jisoo’s sister, the flight attendant. After giving it some thought, you considered her opinion and asked one of your hiring assistants to look into hiring Jisoo’s sister. Luckily, she was easy to get in touch with after getting the information from Jennie.

“Hello, my name is Kim Ji-Yoon. I’ll be your flight hostess starting today,” she said as she bowed.

“Nice to meet you. Take a seat.”

Ji-yoon takes the seat across from you, and IU goes over the contract. “You will be a salaried worker. Here is the amount of money the company is offering,” sliding the piece of paper towards her.

Ji-yoon opened it, and her eyes widened. “Are you sure? This is a lot of money, much more than what they pay someone who’s working in the business for years.”

You respond, “Yes, I want to ensure you are rewarded nicely and expect your utmost discretion. You’re also Jisoo’s older sister, so I wanted to do something nice.”

“Thank you so much. I will do my best not to disappoint you.”

“I’m sure you won’t. Also, our first trip is going to be in a couple of days, so I hope you’re ready.”

“That's great, sir; where will we be going?”

“Japan.”

—————

“We will be landing in Japan shortly, sir.”

“Thank you, Ji-Yoon.”

“Would you like to drink?”

“I’m fine, thank you, though.”

“My pleasure,” she said, and she made her way to the attendant area on the plane.

You watch as she walks down the passage, her nice-length skirt giving you a glaze at her toned thighs, “Damn, what a view.”

The purpose of today is to visit and hopefully recruit a potential trainee after getting a couple of letters of recommendation from a dance studio. The head choreographer linked the company's recruitment account to multiple videos of their student. She praised her students' stage performance and talent, suggesting that someone visit and see them in person.

The recruiters watched the videos were attached and gave you an idea of what to focus on after watching. You watch each video multiple times and can’t help but be amazed by her beauty and elegance. The way she performs is something that many people can imitate unless they’re a natural.

After settling down at your hotel, you get in contact with the head choreographer and let them know that you will be arriving later that day. She thanks you for visiting and the opportunity to see one of her students.

You arrived at the location before opening and were given a studio tour. Walking around, see the pictures of all the trainees, “Is this one her?” as you point at the photo.

“Yes, that’s her.”

“Okay, nice to know.”

“She’ll be coming to the studio in about twenty minutes.”

“You seem nervous.”

“I am. She’s been with us for so long; we know that she can do much more out there.”

“You seem to care for her a lot.”

“Yes, which is why I emailed the company so you can see for yourselves.”

The person arrives twenty minutes later and sets their bag before entering the changing room. They come out in sweats and t-shirts and walk toward the center of the room before playing the starting the music. You hear the song begin, focusing on their dance movements and expressions.

You watch her dance to various types of music, but the one that caught your attention was when she danced ballet. The way she presented herself and moved with such elegance was heartwarming. You know that you needed to recruit her at all costs.

The music stops, and you slowly walk out of the office and greet both the choreographer and the dancer. “That was amazing. Great job.”

The dancer bows, “Thank you so much for your compliment.”

“No, no, you deserve it.”

You see her get shy and play with her fingers from the attention. The choreographer steps in and says, as she points at you, “This is the person I told you about. He’s from Olympus Entertainment and came to see you perform.”

She bows and says, “Thank you for visiting us. I’m Myoui Mina. It's nice to meet you.”

#kpop smut #kpop fluff #kpop male reader #kpop reader #kpop x reader #kpop idol smut #idol x male reader #reader x idol #idol x reader #TM smut

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dreamings-free · 4 months ago

Text

Louis about LT3

a summary UPDATED 6/10/24

Sep 2022 first time Louis mentions a 3rd album. Louis is quoted in Euphoria Magazine saying: “Ideally, I’d like to try and write the next record before I go on tour next year. I want to do something similar to what I’ve done this past year.” (but from what we know now it seems it didn't play out that way..)

Sep 14th 2022 Louis leaves a comment on Faith In The Future co-writer Nico Rebscher's instagram post about Out Of My System saying "Can’t wait to do more on the next album!"

Jan 2023 Louis is on holiday in Cabo, Mexico and is spotted travelling with his guitar - maybe in case inspiration strikes!?

Feb 22nd 2023 Louis is seen "a tiny village with a recording studio in it". A few days later both Louis and Matt Vines likes an instagram post by Faith In The Future co-writer David Sneddon captioned "Spent the week at @ angelicstudiouk with friends and heroes." Another FITF co-writer Theo Hutchcraft is seen in one of the photos.

May 11th 2023 Louis tweets: "Also probably shouldn’t mention this so early in the process but I’m feeling really confident creatively, just finished a week of writing and it was unbelievable. Exciting!"

May 13th 2023 When asked about the next album at the LA screening of All Of Those Voices, he answered: “I recently just started, yeah. The majority have been my own, but some of the lyrics is less direct, so it’s maybe not quite as specifically about me but,I felt really fulfilled, the last couple of writing sessions I’ve done have been really, really good.”

Nov 23rd 2023 Louis gets asked about album 3 at the Rolling Stone UK Awards and is quoted saying: “It’s funny, I wrote maybe 4 or 5 tunes in one of the breaks of the tour legs, and actually, I just wanna spend a bit of time. I’m really excited for those songs, but I don’t know when the next records gonna come and the thing about me is when I start writing, I’m just desperate to release things as soon as a possible, so I wanna take a bit of time on this record. So when that might be, who knows.” He also talks a bit about potential collaborators and mentions DMA'S.

Jan 20th 2024 Louis follows producer James Ellis Ford who has worked with Arctic Monkey, Gorillaz and many, many more.

Jan 24th 2024 When asked in a twitter Q&A if he has "a concept in mind already for the next album?" his answer was: "Started drawing the outline in my head". He also told fans asking at the meet 'n' greet in Jakarta that it would be "soon, in my context of the word" 😜

Mar 30th 2024 At the Tecate Pa'l Norte press conference he said: “At the moment, um— to be honest, I haven’t really— the question was what I listen to which is a slightly different thing but; I haven’t really given the next record real thought yet. Obviously it’s been on my mind. But in terms of conceptually, or even finding references, I’m not really at that point yet because I’ve done a lot of touring— just kind of getting that out of the way before I really start thinking about that proper.”

April 4th 2024 He told Chilean radio station Bio Bio: “I have written a couple of songs, but when I was writing them I wasn’t thinking about what they would be for a new album, they were just written to give me something to write and not put pressure on those songs. But I think I will start the work on a new album at the end of this year, maybe.” futher elaborating to Radio Disney Chile: “The good thing about this record is I’m gonna have plenty of time to experiment and with that it gives you plenty of room to just kind of find where the edges of the record live. So yeah I’m looking forward to getting into the process, but like I said I’ve been loving touring at the moment so just been kind of sticking to that.”.

He also told Paraguayan radio station HEI Now: “Of course there’ll be a new album. When? I’m not overly sure. I think I’ll probably start writing at the end of the year. I just wanna let as much life in first and then I can really start emoting and writing.”

June 2024 In the FITF tour LatAm recap video posted to Louis’ instagram 25/6 he says: “At some point I gotta think about the next record, but.. I’m a bit scared of that, truthfully right now, feel like I’ve been enjoying the success of Faith in The Future for.. quite a while. And yes, it’s been the pressure of the shows but I delivered what I think was a good record and a record that was successful. So now going into the next cycle it’s a little bit.. a little bit tentative going into it. I know that’ll change once I get off the road and really start thinking about the essence of the record and the concept of the record and stuff like that. But right now.. yeah, I’m just thinking about the festivals, I’m excited for those.” (he also talks - in past tense about playing in Mexico City and about the upcoming Away From Home Festival, so we can assume this interview was done somewhere in early June)

August 4th 2024 Responding to a fan sign at Santander Music Festival that said "How close R we to the next album 1-5?" showing three - possibly four? - fingers! meaning the album is 3/5 (or 4/5?) done!

Oct 4th 2024 curious activity across Louis' socials; on twitter the header image was changed from the Louis Tomlinson : Live album graphic to just the cover image and the Faith In The Futuretweet was unpinned (like it was on Louis' insta 9/9). on Louis' instagram the bio text was cleared and the link to louist.lnk.to/live was also removed.

Oct 6th 2024 Louis replies to a fan on twitter asking if new music is coming with "Only been off tour 2 minutes. The next record is going to be my best yet but need chance to let life in first!"

tbc...

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unalivejournal · 1 year ago

Text

imagine a tumblr simulator set in the velvet goldmine universe lmfao

2 notes

🎹 wilderatz Follow

DNI if you still support br*an sl*de after the shooting hoax. what he did was fucking unacceptable and pathetic. the panic and heartbreak on the dashboard that day was absolutely traumatizing. and the fact that it was all for cheap publicity makes it even more despicable. if you HAVE to listen to his records the least you could do is buy them secondhand

#so glad curt never cut that record with him

186 notes

⭐️ glittersisgay

i got new boots! seeing the flaming creatures tonight :-) life is good

4 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow

sorry but the sladewild narrative is CRAAAAZY. like imagine you start off as a nobody performer and becoming enthralled by this rockstar after he shows up your act and you end up becoming famous by being inspired by his stage presence AND YOU BECOME FAMOUS ENOIGH TO GO TO AMERICA AND MEET THIS GUY AND YOUR LABELS START FABRICATING A RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN U TWO TO GENERATE PUBLICITY FOR YOUR NEW ALBUM BUT THEN YOU ACTUALLY FALL IN LOVE AND HAVE TO KEEP IT A SECRET BUT THEN THE PAPARAZZI FINDS OUT AND YOU HAVE A HUGE FALLING OUT BUT THEN A FEW WEEKS LATER YOURE SPOTTED IN THE CROWD AT THE DEATH TO GLITTER SHOW

♻️ 🦷 roxytunes Follow

lmfao WHAT are you talking about. swear to god i’m sick of you invasive freaks trying to make things up about real peoples lives. the part about the labels trying to market slade and wild as a couple isn’t even true. yes they were heavily publicized as close friends but they never admitted to being in a relationship. also receipts on brian being at the death to glitter show???? stop spreading false information

♻️ 👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼 wildemons Follow

anyways watch out for my new sladewild maxwell demon tour era fic that will be published in my next zine 💋

#my mutual was literally next to him in the crowd.

58 notes

🪩 girlboydragdemon

at the Sombrero Club with the glamrocktuals YAYYYY

♻️ 🪩 girlboydragdemon

Hangover.

#we may have made. mistakes. #also we think brian slade’s former manager was in the booth behind us

11 notes

🌟 venusinpurrs

♻️ 🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow

WHY ARE WE PITTING THREE BAD BITCHES AGAINST EACH OTHER

♻️🌟 venusinpurrs

better question WHY ARE VENUS IN FURS LOSING GUYS CMON ITS OBVIOUSLY THE RATS

♻️🌟 venusinpurrs

do you people hate dykes

244 notes

💋 jack-fairy-fan51 Follow

Anyone else feel like this Tommy stone guy showed up out of nowhere?

6 notes

❇️ 20th-cxntury-bxy

Well…. it’s been a fun time on the road with Malcolm & co. (@/theflamingcreatures) but in the months following the hoax and the death to glitter tribute I’ve been feeling more and more inclined to move on. idk. i know there’s still an active tumblr community but in the real life scene it feels like everyone’s just…. given up. I’ll be starting a new job soon and won’t have a lot of time to post. Might delete this blog in the near future. remember to support local shows and keep being yourself

#a.journal

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👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove

word on the street is that mandy slade divorced brian???? lmao get his ass

♻️👨‍🎤 lipstickkissedelbowglove

[#finally i have a chance with her]

you’re funny if you think any of us on this site have an inkling of a chance with her

2,658 notes

🎸 balladofmaxwellsemen Follow

Just found this on the sidewalk. does anyone know what it is?

7 notes

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jokeroutsubs · 17 days ago

Text

[📝ENG translation] 'My Parents Gave Me a Strong Sense of Identity'

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin.

Original article written by Teja Roglič for Ona plus, published 05.11.2024. English translation by @kurooscoffee, review by @weolucbasu, proofread by IG Gboleyn123.

Full article and Spotify link under the cut 👇

🎧 Article available in audio form on Spotify.

Last year’s craze at Stožice, summer festival performances, the Eurovision Song Contest, international success. And then everyone asks, what could be bigger, what could be better? But as the band Joker Out releases their new album, they consciously follow the motto "I want less". Singer Bojan Cvjetićanin explains why: "This is our home, this is our base. If we don’t feel good at home, we can’t feel good anywhere. We need to rediscover love in our base, that’s what we told ourselves."

With the song Bluza, you’re returning to love. Why?

We went through a lot. The songs we released after Eurovision dealt with the most acute situational changes in our lives—touring, exhaustion, questioning ourselves. Now, it’s time to have a bit of fun again. And there's probably nothing more beautiful than being in love. (smiles)

I’ve been looking into people’s stories, into the lives of those around me, seeking beauty.

What did you discover?

That I enjoy writing about love the most. When you write from a place of uncertainty, it’s nice to get those feelings out; when you write about love, you search for timeless beats within yourself, not something that’s only fleeting. I write about the ideals of love I held as a child, and in the future, I’ll see how these have either evolved or fallen apart.

It's best to write about love...

When you have a broken heart.

Your Eurovision song was more socially critical, though it might seem, at first glance, to be about joy. In it, you say: "We won’t take part in your games or your divisions." Did the song’s message reach people?

Undoubtedly. A lot has changed in a year and a half, not only personally but also in terms of our views of social issues. For the first time, we've connected with young people from abroad. It was fascinating to see how connected the fans from different countries became, encouraging each other, learning new languages—even a lot of Slovene. The desire for peace and unity is very strong at our concerts, so our messages have touched them. But of course, you can never reach everyone. (smiles)

You mention changed perspectives with regards to society. Have any ideals been shattered?

Many ideals have crumbled. In school, learning about war, it always seemed odd to me that the world could just go on at the same time, despite the ongoing disruption in the system. Now, I see that we have access to all the information, that we see and hear what’s happening, that we witness an influx of people coming from regions where this is happening, yet everything literally carries on as usual.

War has become more of a trend on TikTok or Instagram than something people feel hurt about. This makes me very sad.

A lot of ideals that have shattered relate to the life of a musician. We’ve achieved things we could only have dreamed of—not just as kids; even two years ago, what’s happening now would have seemed impossible to me. But the ideal that’s crumbled is this one: I don’t always know how to appreciate what I have.

On tour, I often slipped into negative thoughts, didn’t appreciate everything happening to us. This links to the idea that this kind of life is easy, that as a successful musician, you only have fun. This, of course, isn’t true; it’s incredibly exhausting, both mentally and physically. I could go on until tomorrow, listing everything that’s fallen apart, but fortunately, a lot of new things have also come to be.

You’re the idols of generations; do you feel pressure because of that? After all, you’re still young guys too…

No. We already lost the childlike joy of music because we had to start working so much so early and get to know so many new systems. If we also take on the responsibility of raising generations of kids, we could truly fall into a black hole.

We need to be role models, but we can’t shape our work around that. On the upcoming album, there’s a song, 'Muzika za decu' ('Music for children'), which touches on this very point. We want to convey that we’re not addressing generations who think all younger people are lazy bums who only hinder the world’s progress. We’re addressing everyone who is young enough at heart to believe in a better world, a brighter tomorrow.

Photo: Vita Orehek

More and more musicians are stopping concerts at large venues when fans are in distress or overcrowding happens. You too?

Absolutely. This summer, we constantly stopped concerts if people were packed tightly indoors or out in the sun. We handed out a lot of water from the stage, and I even paused a concert if some listener (m.) was treating another listener (f.) disrespectfully. A concert is a safe space; there’s no place there for infringing on the rights of others.

That’s an interesting topic I wanted to touch on anyway. So what is the rock ‘n’ roll world of the new generation like?

It’s a lot better. I’m glad we’re not a group of drugged-out dudes living only for today. Carpe Diem really means seize the day, but for us, that doesn’t mean picking every fruit that exists in the world. Waking up healthy and energised, wanting to go to a concert, being open to meeting new people, our fans, being creative...

That’s what it means to seize the day. Sure, sometimes we go on a trip, we do have fun too. But I’m glad that sex, drugs, and rock ‘n’ roll aren’t our guiding principles in the band. When we watched the documentary about Mötley Crüe, we saw how they started with heroin and opiates and ended with smoothies and fruit. Well, we’re already at the fruit and smoothies stage. (laughs)

“We’re constantly building a relationship that gets deeper every day, even though it seems like it can’t get any deeper,” you told me before the Stožice concert, as I was stunned when you said you were going on holiday with the guys right after the concert. How much do you invest in relationships within the band? We know it’s sometimes challenging to nurture a relationship between two people, let alone five.

This is like a partnership with five people. Except for intimacy, all the other elements of partnership are there. We’re companions. We often live together, work together; the dynamics are demanding. I talk a lot about this with fellow musicians. Recently, I was talking to Mr. Vlado Kreslin, and we concluded that being in a band requires a touch of madness.

Even if it ends someday—nothing is guaranteed—I know I have four lifelong friends. We exist as friends even beyond the band.

Success demands hard work; you’ve told me before how sure you were of your path in the band, of your decisions, and how hard you worked to achieve what you have. And we’re back to the topic that some might say your generation isn’t hardworking, that you’re quick to say what you won’t do at the work place...

The young people I know could hardly be described as not hardworking. I’d rather say we’re diligent, and the drive to work comes from the strong pressure that you need to achieve a lot very quickly, or else you won’t make it in this world. As for them being quicker to say no... Maybe they know they can��t live that way if something doesn’t work. And to live is very costly.

Young people feel they don’t have to stick rigidly to one profession, that they can change courses, jobs, and find something that suits them. We’re far from the days when the son was a blacksmith because the father was a blacksmith, and the daughter stayed home as a housewife. But we also have to know that there’s more and more uncertainty, precarious work.

If Gen Z is the way it is, I wouldn’t attribute that to the generation itself but rather to the Boomer generation. Everything that makes life harder for us isn’t the product of our ideas and actions. But it’s also true that sometimes, you need to stop, think, and make a decision. I’d like to do something today, something different tomorrow, but that’s not realistic. When you’re bombarded by choices from all ends, you have to make decisions. If there are three shirts in a store, I’ll pick one; if there are 250, I might end up buying sneakers instead. (laughs)

You performed at a concert aimed at contributing to the best possible care, treatment, and support for women with gynaecological cancer. You probably get invited to participate in quite a few charitable events; how do you choose them? This concert likely wasn’t a hard choice, as both of your parents are doctors...

My father is a gynaecologist, my mother is a pediatrician, so naturally, when I got the invitation, I immediately thought my dad would be happy if I could perform there. Otherwise, I choose events based on two criteria: whether it’s something important and whether I’m home at that time. I've often had to turn down an event I would have really liked to participate in simply because I wasn’t here.

Life has taken you all over in recent years. What have your parents given you that has stayed with you and has been proven most useful today?

They gave me a sense of normality. I'm an ordinary person who takes everything in moderation. I didn’t become a hedonist, nor did I give in to the patterns that the environment might impose. They gave me a strong sense of who I am and what I am, unconditional self-confidence, and self-respect. And the certainty that I’m never alone in anything.

Recently, the dramaturg Nina Kuclar Stiković and I talked about how Generation Z might be the first to actively work through its traumas, though she noted that taking on such responsibility across generations is a huge task. In the end, you might even feel worse. If you only become aware of your baggage but can’t overcome it, it can feel even worse than if you had never been made aware of it at all, she said. What do you observe around you, in your own generation?

Mental health has never been as openly discussed as it is today. I know many people who go to therapy. It’s actually strange that mental health was never treated before, that this stigma existed. If you have a cold, you stay home, you also heal a broken arm. Today's generations have managed to break free from these shackles. The individual is becoming increasingly more important.

People are working through the things in their minds. And this bothers many people from generations who suppressed everything and unleashed their traumas onto others. I often think how unfortunate it is that we don’t practice everyday therapy in our surroundings. Everyone surely has someone whom they trust. We talk about all sorts of things, but we never ask each other how we are and share that honestly. Now, I do this with a few friends, and it’s really nice. I go to my friends for therapy. (smiles)

Nina also mentioned that patriarchy has wronged not only women but men too. It’s unfair that men couldn’t show emotions and always had to be strong. It always helps if you can share your feelings with someone. What do you think?

The Neanderthal perception of masculinity is passé. We can all first tell ourselves, and then tell others, how we feel and what’s going on in our heads.

This summer, you performed at festivals. Now you have a new album, and you’ll be performing at various venues again, with tickets quickly selling out. It's a carousel that never stops. You mentioned earlier that you caught yourself maybe not appreciating it anymore. What do you do now to keep that from happening?

For the tour that’s coming with the release of the new album, we consciously followed the motto, "I want less." Last year, we played in Stožice, before that in Križanke. This year, we toured Europe, and everyone was asking us what big thing we’re preparing next. But we were only talking about how nice it would be to play at Ljubljana's Cvetličarna again.

Pass by Maribor too, go a bit to the clubs in the Balkans, and that’s it. This is our home; this is our base. If we don’t feel good at home, we can’t feel good anywhere. We told ourselves that we need to find love in our base again. I’m glad we recognise this, that we’re not just banging our heads against a brick wall. The purpose of this tour is simply to enjoy it.

A few years ago, you told my colleague Robert Rebolj, my fellow journalist, and your fellow musician, that you’d like to have kids while still young. Yet you also say that you're in a period where several of your ideals have collapsed as you look at the world around you. Does the desire still remain?

When I said that, I was thinking I’d have my first child between the ages of 28 and 30. Then Robert told me that having a child young doesn’t necessarily mean that. (laughs) I see it now, too, as some of my friends already have children, and some even their second. My calendar no longer just has friends’ birthdays, but, for instance, the first birthday of a friend’s child. (laughs) Yes, I think a lot about how this world is in many ways not what I imagined it would be, but I guess it’s always been that way throughout history—things have never been ideal. I think everyone, in every era, has felt the world is going to- hmmm, well, that’s how it seems to me too. (laughs)

#joker out #jokeroutsubs #bojan cvjetićanin #bojan cvjeticanin #Spotify #jo: bojan solo #source: onaplus #year: 2024 #og language: slovenian #type: article #jos: podcast

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