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explorevenus · 8 months ago

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baby steps ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 5k

description: moving to raccoon city with leon, your long-term boyfriend and childhood sweetheart, doesn't go as planned. while you consider moving back home to lick your wounds, leon conspires to keep you right by his side, where you were always meant to be.

tags/warnings: yandere!leon kennedy, specifically rookie cop leon, squishy soft dom leon, manipulation and generally toxic behavior, baby trapping (via tampering w condoms), daddy kink, praise kink, pet names, no use of y/n, fingering, p in v, creampie, cockwarming, mention of vomiting

a/n: this piece was commissioned by #1 Soft Dom Rookie Leon Truther and My Feral Puppy Wife @nexysworld ,, pls pls check out her work, she's so very talented and sweet and i am lucky to call her a friend ;w; <33

hopefully if u made it this far u read the tags and know what ur in for, but out of an abundance of caution i would like to reiterate that this is a yandere!leon fic and therefore contains dark themes a la dubious/uninformed consent and unhealthy relationship dynamics. if that's a no-no for u, pls kindly move on and take care of urself !!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

Leon had it all figured out from the day he met you, the first day of kindergarten. The two of you were going to be just like the movies, just like the storybooks– you would grow up as friends, blossom into lovers, marry young and start a family, and everything would be exactly as it should be. He would have fulfilled his purpose, and you would have fulfilled yours. All would be right in the universe.

And he wasn’t exactly far off, for a long time. You were attached at the hip through elementary school, somehow managed to stay friends through middle school and after an awkward, smitten kiss shared in the empty auditorium, you began dating in high school. It was perfect, he thought. He didn’t even have to pull that many strings.

You went to prom, got drunk for the first time, learned to drive, all in each other’s company. You had each other’s virginity. You’d seen, touched and savored every inch of each other. There was almost nothing you didn’t share.

It wasn’t too long after graduation that Leon applied to begin training at the police academy, just like he’d always dreamed of. It was a solid profession with plenty of benefits for both of you and it would give him the opportunity to help people, ticking off all the boxes of what he wanted for himself. It was perfect, it was safe.

No one was surprised when he soared through the police academy with impeccable marks. You were such a little angel when he graduated, showering him with kisses and sweets and letting him pound you into the mattress for a whole weekend to celebrate. And when his application in Raccoon City was accepted, you did exactly as he hoped you would and you followed right along with him.

Of course you would follow right along. You didn’t know what life without Leon meant. You couldn’t even conceptualize what that would feel like and you had no intention of finding out, but that was fine by him. He was happy to be your rock, your guidance, your big, strong boyfriend who would hold your hand and follow you through everything.

With Leon, you would never be alone. You would never be far from home. After all this time, he was your home, exactly as your lives were designed.

For the first few months of living in Raccoon City, the two of you shared a cozy apartment. It was a little worse for wear, but it was cute, and it was a fun way to start your adventure into young adulthood together. He was happy to handle all of the spiders and quadruple check the locks every night if it made you feel safer, if it gave you an excuse to come crying to him like a beautiful angel whenever you were frightened.

Bumps in the night, creaks of the pipes, the skittering of the upstairs neighbor’s little dog, they all sent you folding into his arms, shaking like a leaf, crying for him to protect you. He was your knight, and God were you his perfect little princess. The apple of his eye, the one and only object of his affection. No, not his affection, his obsession.

You were all he thought about, day and night, for more than half of his 21 years of living. Everything he did, every breath he took was with you in mind. You were the only living manifestation of complete and total perfection, every inch of you crafted with care and divinity. Your lives fit together like puzzle pieces– hell, your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. You were meant for each other.

It wasn’t long after you moved that the job you had lined up fell through, and you were left reeling. Moving away from home just to fall flat on your face was a massive blow to your self esteem, especially considering your parents practically screamed a hole through the phone at you about it. The next few days were spent sulking around the apartment, trying to pick up the pieces and choose a completely different path for yourself.

And there was Leon to hold you while you cried. To make dinner every night and dote on you endlessly, to pamper you with gifts and to insist over and over that he could make rent on his own, that he didn’t mind if you needed a little more time to wallow before finding a job… and to console you when your search for employment would prove fruitless once again.

He was there to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that the job market was just rough right now and that no matter what, he would be there to take care of you.

Weeks stretched into months and you still felt like you were spinning out, even with Leon by your side. Every single day was beginning to feel the same and you didn’t know what to do, all you knew was that you couldn’t imagine living the rest of your life like this. Something had to give and Raccoon City clearly wasn’t it.

Leon came home with a big smile on his face, just like any other day, but today was extra special. He’d finally had his one year review at the police station, and he was getting a sizable raise. He couldn’t wait to tell you he was gonna get you out of this shitty apartment and into somewhere nicer. He couldn’t wait to sneak his way down to the jeweler in search of a ring. The storybook life he had laid out for you was coming to fruition right before his eyes.

But you were quiet over dinner, and you looked exhausted. You wouldn’t even meet his eyes as you picked at your plate.

He was just about to ask you what was wrong when you finally spoke up, “I-I think I need to move back home with my parents.”

Silence. He felt like he had been shot.

“It’s just that… I know you said you’re happy to take care of bills and everything, but I just feel terrible every day being a burden and I think I need a chance to figure things out and get back up on my feet. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life anymore.”

His expression fell and his heart ached, any and all excitement he had about his situation now gone in an instant. All the money in the world meant nothing to him if he couldn’t share it with you, and to see you so lost and scared made him feel like he fucking failed you, his poor, sweet princess who looked to him for purpose and protection and partnership.

Leon wasn’t stupid. He knew that allowing you to move back in with your parents could potentially be a death sentence to your relationship. When people aren’t around each other anymore, it’s only natural that they drift apart, and Leon could not let that happen. It wasn’t even an option in his brain. Something had to be done and something had to be done now, before your lease was up in a few months, before push came to shove and you would finally have to make your choice.

He wasn’t even really sure where he got the idea. It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before, mostly because he didn’t think he’d ever be put in this position.

A few nights after that conversation, Leon couldn’t sleep. It was well past two in the morning and you were peacefully asleep beside him while he stared at the ceiling, entirely lost in thought. He witnessed the worst and darkest of humanity at work every single day, but nothing scared him as deeply as the idea of losing you.

Eventually he got out of bed as carefully as he could manage, not wanting to wake you with his troubles. He only planned to get some water and maybe a minute or two of fresh air to clear his mind, but what he didn’t plan to get was some inspiration.

You had asked him to stop at the store on his way home from work to pick up a few things you needed, and the bag was still sitting on the counter. He took it upon himself to grab a few things he needed, too, and among the items left in the bag was an unopened box of condoms. At first his eyes skimmed over it without much interest, but it wasn’t long before he froze where he stood and turned to look at the bag again.

Leon wasn’t sure what came over him. He didn’t really feel like himself, it was like he was watching his next moves from a third person perspective, hovering above, detached. For a moment he even wondered if he was sleepwalking, or if this was a dream. He stared down at the box in his hand, carefully opened it, and pierced a hole in the center of each and every one. He tucked the packets back into the box and brought it with him on his way back to the bedroom, stashing it in the usual spot in the bedside table.

On his side, of course.

He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t help but just watch you. You were so pretty, so peaceful when you were dreaming, such a nice contrast to the stress and insecurity over finding your life’s purpose that plagued you in your waking hours.

But Leon already knew your life’s purpose. He reached out, gently brushing your messy hair away from your sleepy face so he could admire you more fully, and all he could think about was how much happier you’d look with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly. Maybe an unexpected nudge in the right direction would set you back on the correct path and make you come to your senses about moving back in with your parents.

You huffed out a sleepy little breath from between your plush lips, stirring in the bed and peeking open your eyes to look at him. It was clear you weren’t fully conscious yet, but you were trying, squirming closer to him to tuck yourself into his chest.

“W’time is it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

He smiled fondly, petting your hair and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you cuddled up to him like a sweet little baby bear, and he tried to pretend he hadn’t accidentally made himself hard as fuck thinking about knocking you up just to get you to stay with him. Somewhere deep down, he knew it was gross, he knew it was wrong, he knew it could violate your trust in so many ways.

But Leon was nothing if not a yearner, a hopeless romantic who couldn’t bear the thought of life without you by his side. He’d done everything right by you and you were still straying away from him, and that just wouldn’t do. It’s an act of desperation, he thought to himself, justifying his actions into the ground, I just want her so badly I’m not thinking straight, all pleas for forgiveness he would store for later use.

“It’s late, baby,” He mumbled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

You just shook your head and tightened your arms around him, clearly on the verge of dozing off again. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, he would have just let you, but he wouldn’t be awake in the first place if it weren’t for the extreme sense of urgency he felt.

His broad, warm hands engulfed you, one cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed your lower back, tapering off to paw at your hip. Your shirt– well, his shirt– had ridden up nearly to your waist, baring your cute panties, your soft belly and your plush thighs to his gaze. He swiped the pad of his thumb along your hip, imagining your bone structure spreading open to make room for his growing baby.

Leon didn’t take the time to talk himself out of it before his fingertips were sneaking down between your legs, slipping beneath your panties and finding your clit with practiced ease. The sensation was enough to jerk you awake again, a quiet mewl tumbling from your lips as you rocked into his hand, so sleepy and out of it and just so very cute.

“Leon?” Your voice was thick with sleep, but airy and light with sudden onset desire. That was all he needed to know he had you right where he wanted you.

“Shh, shh, you’re alright,” He cooed softly, following up the soothing whispers with a few gentle nibbles and bites to the shell of your ear, knowing that such attention always melted you into a puddle. “You’re alright, pretty baby, I just wanna play with you. Can daddy play with his sweet angel?”

You squirmed in his hold for a second, pondering his proposition while barely awake, but it wasn’t long before you were nodding into his shoulder and peppering his collarbone with wet kisses in return. It never took much to convince you when he spoke to you like that, so adoring and saccharine.

“That’s my good girl,” He mused, invigorated by your consent. Almost instantaneously he became more heavy-handed with his touches, fingertips massaging firm, purposeful circles around your clit, occasionally dipping down to collect your growing arousal and bring it back with him. “You’re all mine, you know that? Never gonna let anyone else have my baby.”

Poor you. Clueless of his intentions, you interpreted that sentence in a much different way than he really meant it. But, ignorance is bliss, and what you felt right now was nothing short of blissful.

You poked your head up just to catch his lips with your own in a wanton grasp for more intimacy, a signal of your agreement, like you were giving yourself to him. He knew it was wrong that you didn’t fully realize what you were agreeing to, but again, he compartmentalized that, deciding that was a problem for his future self. What mattered right now was securing your place at his side for the rest of your lives.

He could feel the way your hips were stuttering, he could feel how short your breaths were becoming against his lips, and he knew you were getting close. Grunting into your mouth, he forced his hand further down your panties and sank two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you open for him. The intrusion was quite a bit less gentle than you were used to from him, drawing a shocked whimper from you, but you soon began to relax once more when he curled up into your sweet spot, sending you boneless.

“D-Daddy,” You whined, nails biting into his shoulders. “Hurts… Slow, slower…”

A shiver rolled over his body, that of immediate guilt. He knew he was being a little rough with you, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt you, but…

“Fuck, I can’t help it,” He groaned, “Been thinking about this pussy all night, princess, I need you like air…”

You could hear the desperation in his tone, and even more you could feel it in the way he touched you like he was starving, like he was stranded in the desert and you were an oasis. Softened by this– and entirely hypnotized by his praise– you resigned to the feeling, allowing him to play with your body as he pleased. He was rutting into nothing without even thinking about it, his cock woefully hard and straining against the front of his grey sweatpants.

He wanted to prepare you properly, he really did, but he was so revved up and needy, he didn’t want to risk blowing his load anywhere but inside you. That wasn’t an option. Hands shaking, he pulled away from you just long enough to kick his sweatpants off and reach for one of those condoms, silently resenting the fact that he had to wear one at all, but he had an appearance to keep up.

He tore the package open haphazardly with his teeth and rolled the condom on, shuddering deeply. His grasp was tight on your thigh as he pulled it up and over his hip, his other hand pushing your dainty purple panties aside to guide his cock into the heavenly, pillowy walls of your ethereal cunt.

Fuck, you were so fucking tight, clenching around him, whimpering and whining and writhing like a perfect little puppy in heat. Leon’s teeth sank into your shoulder as he bottomed out in you, and he almost could have sworn he felt the tip of the condom rip open even wider. The image alone had him moaning like an animal, pinning your quivering body to his own while he rolled his hips, fucking you deep and hard and slow, savoring every single stroke of your slippery walls around his aching cock. Every meeting of your hips was joined by obscene squelching with the way you were practically sucking him in.

“G-God, fuck,” Leon growled, his face contorted with pleasure. You and Leon had always had what you considered to be an active and healthy sex life, but you’d never seen him quite so beside himself with raw lust. Whatever drove him in that moment was primal, and you could feel it in his every movement, his every breath, see it in the wild look in his eyes.

His pupils were like dinner plates as he gazed down at you, stamping your forehead with kisses and feeling over every inch of your body. “Look at you, just look at you… Such a perfect little dolly for daddy to love on forever and ever, huh? Oh, my princess…”

You were lightheaded with arousal, every nerve ending in your body lighting up with white hot pleasure. You could barely even form a sentence, just nodding along as he moaned out his praise and letting him manhandle you like a ragdoll. Perhaps his words had more than a modicum of truth to them.

“F-Feels so… so… fuck, daddy, feels so good,” You babbled mindlessly, head falling back to the pillows beneath you. He was overwhelming your senses, taking over every corner of your mushy brain. The room was dark and you were still a bit delirious with sleep and to that effect, nothing existed in your world right now but daddy, daddy, daddy…

He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the spot on your shoulder he’d so harshly bitten earlier, the pace of his thrusts not faltering for a second. “Yeah? I’ll bet it does, judging by the look on you,” He teased, nipping at your throat. “So pretty when you’re all fucked out.”

Your back was arching up off the bed, your eyes rolling back and your walls pulsing around him. Addicted to eliciting pleasured reactions from you, Leon wedged one hand between your two bodies, flattening his palm on your lower belly before pressing down.

Stars. You saw stars. A broken, high-pitched cry ripped from your throat, and you didn’t even have the capacity to hope the neighbors didn’t think you were being murdered, because you didn’t care. You could feel every rigid inch of him inside you, dragging over every nerve, his cock stuffed so deep that you swore you could feel him in your throat. Toes curling and your nails raking down his naked back, tears were beginning to prick at your eyes– you were close.

That was a good thing, though, considering he was too, and he could only hope the wet heat of your release would mask the feeling of his own. Leon sealed his lips over your own once more, swallowing your broken, needy cries as he fucked you to completion, letting his hand fall a little bit lower until his fingertips were on your clit again.

Your body twitched at the stimulation, thighs clamping down tight around his hips as you sobbed into his mouth and soaked his cock with your gushing sex. “Daddy,” You wept, clinging to him for dear life as he fucked you through your high, his own spilling out in sync. “Daddy, daddy, daddy…”

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby, I’m right here,” He cooed, taking your bottom lip playfully between his teeth before pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “Just stay put, you’re doing so good for me, angel…”

His hips continued to piston forward as he hoped to force as much of his cum into you as he could manage, while still maintaining the believable illusion of protection. He intended to put every last one of those tampered-with condoms to use, though he wondered silently to himself if you might give up and just let him take you raw once you were to inevitably find out you’re pregnant.

You were a weeping, shivering mess in his arms, thighs clenching and twitching around him as he shushed you and babied you, petting your hair away from your tear-stained face and stamping you with delicate kisses, still stuffing his cum into you with shallow thrusts. He couldn’t wait to see you blossom right before his eyes. He couldn’t wait for you to realize your purpose was right here with him. He couldn’t wait to have you to himself for the rest of your days, his princess.

Leon remained sheathed deep within you, even as he softened, wanting to make sure you stayed plugged up well. But, he also couldn’t resist the warmth and wetness of you, how comforting it felt to be enveloped by you.

“You just stay put right there, okay, princess?” He reiterated quietly, lips brushing over your brow in a loving kiss. “Want you to keep daddy warm for the rest of the night. Can you do that for me?”

As if he even had to ask. You would have done practically anything for him when reduced to such a bleary, agreeable state of mind. He knew you all too well.

You just nodded like a bobblehead, dreamy, doe eyes staring up at him through teary lashes, hanging off his every word like gospel. He tucked you in even closer to his chest, cradling you with such adoration, his hips rocking forward every now and then just to get a reaction out of you, and to remind himself this was real.

He wasn’t at all surprised that you were able to fall asleep like that, stuffed full of cum and sated like a good little princess deserved to be. In a perfect world, you would never have to move again, just stay there in his lap forever and soak up every drop of him you could take.

In the coming weeks, that box of condoms wouldn’t last long. The only thought on his mind day in and day out was bending you over every surface in the apartment, and you thought nothing of it. Of course you noticed his sudden, insatiable lust for you, but you assumed it was a symptom of knowing his beloved girlfriend was just a few short months away from potentially leaving. He was only grasping at every inch of you he could commit to memory, right?

In all fairness to you, you weren’t exactly that far off.

Your tired eyes pried open at the familiar feeling of Leon rutting up against you, gripping at your hips like you would disappear if he didn’t. The morning sun was just barely beginning to peek through the windows and the bed was warm, it was a lovely way to wake up, one you would never get tired of.

Or at least you never thought you would. You loved Leon— and his sexual prowess— very dearly, but you also loved being able to sleep through an entire night without interruption, and you hadn’t been getting much of that over the past several weeks.

“Mnh… Leon, babe,” You grumbled, burying your face back into your pillow. “Not today. I’m exhausted.”

He was taken aback by this at first, and then his expression fell with disappointment. Leon had gotten so used to breeding you dumb every morning before work that he wasn’t confident he could go back to functioning without it. Regardless, Leon knew that continuing his attempt to seduce you while you were this grouchy would be a death sentence, so he opted to take the path of least resistance.

After the moment or two it took for him to process that decision, Leon’s touches quickly shifted from provocative to soothing– he was no longer grasping at your hips but wrapping you up in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to your temple and cheekbone as if to regain your good favor.

You hummed contentedly, relaxing back into his embrace. Leon always warmed up like a heater in the night, and you were more than happy to bask in it. His muscular frame was like a weighted blanket and his presence alone was usually enough to knock you out like a light, but for some reason, you were struggling to fall back asleep. Every second felt like five minutes and despite your best efforts– and your complete and utter exhaustion– sleep refused to reclaim you.

Biting back the urge to blame Leon for waking you up in the first place, you huffed out a breath and rolled over in his arms, hoping the change in position might be just what you needed.

Wrong. Very, very wrong. Something about the movement made you dizzy, nauseous, your stomach twisting into knots. You wanted to say something, but you weren’t even sure what to say. It came on so suddenly that it caught you off guard and you weren’t even fully confident you would be able to get up at first.

You whined his name quietly, nuzzling into his chest and wrenching your eyes shut in an attempt to reorient yourself, your arms closing around your middle instinctively.

“You alright? What’s the matter?” Your sweet boyfriend asked quietly, brows furrowing with concern. He could feel your body trembling against his own, your back rising and falling with short, shallow breaths.

Now it was your throat tightening, too, and the second your mouth started to flood with saliva, you knew what was about to happen. Leon didn’t stop you when you writhed out of his embrace and stumbled out of bed, depending on muscle memory alone to get yourself to the bathroom with how woozy and ill you felt.

You just barely made it to the toilet in time to vomit. The cold tile felt nice on your knees, but the impact, not as much. It wasn’t long before Leon materialized at your side with a glass of water and a cold washcloth to hold over your forehead, rubbing your back and already silently conspiring to call out of work and give his poor, sick angel the princess treatment all day.

You collapsed back into his chest with a deep shudder, reaching for the water in a desperate attempt to wash the taste of bile from your mouth. He ended up grabbing it for you, raising it to your cracked lips and helping you take slow, measured drinks.

“There you go, pup,” He hummed, rocking you gently in his lap, his poor little darling princess. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

Your eyes fluttered closed, a sense of relief washing over you at last. Maybe you just caught a bug, or ate something your body didn’t agree with, or your stress and exhaustion were finally catching up to you. Surely you would feel better within a few days.

“I’m okay,” You whispered, reaching for his hand and squeezing it affectionately. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

Leon smiled, a burst of warmth spreading through his chest. You couldn’t possibly imagine what that meant to him, considering he chose to interpret it in whatever way felt most validating. After all, no one could take care of you like Leon could, and they wouldn’t have the chance to try, anyway. Not over his dead body.

Stooping down to kiss the crown of your head, Leon’s every word was thick with syrupy sweetness, “My baby, I would be so lost if I didn’t. Taking care of you is like breathing to me.”

And he meant every part of it. He didn’t just mean it, he showed it. He showed it when he held your hair back, and he showed it when you realized you couldn’t even remember when you’d had your last period. He showed it when you sent him to the drugstore in the middle of the night for pregnancy tests, and he showed it when you broke down crying at the results, wondering how this could have happened.

His favorite part was showing it when you tearfully called your parents and told them you were staying in Raccoon City, not because you had found a job, but because you were pregnant.

“I can’t believe they’re choosing to react like this, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. They should be happy for you, and it’s awful that they’re anything but happy for you,” He said, voice low and soothing, tone purposeful. “I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you and this baby, and we’re gonna be happy. Alright?”

Leon tipped your chin up with his knuckle, making you look at him. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were puffy with tears, droplets still clinging to your little dolly eyelashes.

It was hard not to believe him when he spoke with such conviction, when he looked at you with those rich blue eyes that bled from an endless well of love. The pad of his thumb skimmed over your pouty bottom lip as you unknowingly submitted to his grand design.

#venustext #sintext #resident evil #leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy #dark!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #dark!leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you

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summerclementine27 · 3 months ago

Text

Meet Me in The Hallway🌷pt. 1

summary: Mr. Styles has possibly interested Y/N more than his literature classes and she finds herself pining for him over the months.

pairings: professor!harry, student!reader

warnings: small age difference, mentions of smut

word count: 4.7k

note: i wanted to make this one part but it will be too long so there will have to be a part 2

part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/summerclementine27/757559698881986560/meet-me-in-the-hallway-pt2

Tender days of mid-October

As I took my seat in the large lecture hall, a sense of anticipation loomed over me. Today, Mr. Styles was giving us the results of the last literature and theory criticism coursework I had handed in the previous week. This was my third class with him, one of two this school year, the other being Contemporary Literature. Last year, he taught me Introduction to Literature, a mandatory class for my degree. Though I dreaded it at first due to his choice of reading list, I ended up falling in love with the course because of the way he taught it. Some works I initially criticized him for choosing, he ended up using as examples and critiqued them himself, like "The Awakening" by Kate Chopin. Plus, it helped that he was impossibly handsome with his tall frame, tousled brown hair, and piercing green eyes.

When my friends noticed how much I liked his class, they were unfazed. However, as I became somewhat of a teacher’s pet in a class rudimentary compared to the others I took this year—such as Feminism and Literature, Historical Narratives in Fiction, and Postcolonial Literary Criticism—they realized that maybe the tall, green-eyed man was what had really piqued my interest, not discussing "Middlemarch" for four classes.

On days when I had his class, I dressed extra nicely, sometimes even daring to pair a clean collared shirt with a shorter-than-usual skirt. One time, I even left my wool trench coat on during the first period and stood up from my auditorium seat to take it off. Sitting in the back, the rows of chairs likely covered the lower part of my body, but I was sure the space between my long boots and short skirt was visible from his vantage point. Surely, my abrupt standing would grab his attention. What I didn’t anticipate was him pausing in the middle of a long train of thought to stare, then quickly catching himself and stuttering before continuing seamlessly as I knew he would. My friend Anika, seated in one of the front rows, noticed and turned to see what had caught his attention. To her dismay, I was playing games with someone totally unattainable again. But she knew I thrived on academic validation, and this little crush of mine would only drive me to excel in more classes.

"Are you serious, Y/N? He's our professor." she exclaimed once.

"I know, but he's just... different."

"Different? Or is it the way he looks at you when you answer a question?"

"Maybe both. Besides, this crush is making me work harder. You can't argue with the results."

"Just be careful. I don't want you getting hurt."

In fact, it drove me to do more than that. One time, Mr. Styles noticed my passion for poetry after I shamelessly defended the works of Sylvia Plath with a controversial view that modern poetry should not shy away from the stark realities of mental health. He gave me a few poetry anthologies and compilations, including his annotated copies. I fawned over reading his notes and even emailed him once, pretending that I had "accidentally" annotated something, forgetting it wasn’t my own copy after losing myself in the literature. He replied kindly:

Mr. Styles: "Please, feel free to annotate as much as you like. I would be honored to have your opinions inked on my favorite copies."

By the next semester, after encouraging me to join the poetry society, Mr. Styles nominated me for president, and I was thrilled to win. He insisted on celebrating, gently grasping my upper arm and smiling warmly as he said he expected nothing less. I brought a bottle of wine to his office, where he had asked me to meet him, only to find the entire poetry society there, ready to congratulate me. The gathering lingered for a few delightful hours before everyone left, leaving just the two of us to clean up.

"You really impressed everyone tonight, Y/N. Not that I'm surprised." He began once we were truly all alone.

"Thank you, Mr. Styles. I couldn't have done it without your support."

"Well, you deserve it. By the way, outside of class and school hours, you can call me Harry." He said in his thick Manchester accent.

"Only if you stop calling me Ms. Y/L/N." I joked.

"Hey! I only do that sometimes. Plus, I can't call out to you in class like, 'Y/N, will you read the next slide?' People will think..."

"...think I’m the teacher’s favorite?" I finished his sentence with a teasing smile.

I couldn’t take the lingering stares and supposedly accidental touches we were both guilty of. But I knew that if I really wanted this, if I wanted to be more than just a student he regretted being tempted by when I graduated, then I had to play the long game.

And indeed I did. I kept up my habit of always showing up well-dressed in elegant coats and well-fitting clothing. I accentuated my features with a light coat of makeup, even if I had to apply it on a bumpy bus ride to campus. I even signed up for his office hours, despite really not needing them, just to exchange thoughts and opinions under the guise of “wanting to make sure I'm on the right track.” I wanted him to get to know me more, to realize that despite my youth, I was mature and thoughtful.

At the start of the second year, he emailed me to come to campus a few times in August, a month before the start of term, to discuss my responsibilities as the founder of the debate team. The idea sparked in his mind after I excelled in the heated debate he chose to hold as our first-year final assessment. He was so in awe that he went as far as saying I could compete at a national level on the English debate team, which neither of us was certain of, but I accepted the compliment.

Our earlier meetings were spent cooped up in his office, reviewing why the last debate team failed almost a decade ago and planning the structure for the new team. We discussed everything from team dynamics to potential debate topics, ensuring we were prepared for any challenge.

On one of the hotter days in August, we took our meeting to the university courtyard, having grown tired of experiencing the last bursts of England’s so-called summer from his office window. It was a beautiful window, and a big one at that, but it didn’t compare to actually being outside. That day, I realized the majority of planning for the next few months had already been accomplished in our first few meetings, and I got the hint that he didn’t actually need my help now that I had settled everything I could that wasn’t on an administrative level. So naturally, I decided to have a little fun.

I was wearing penny loafers with black tailored pants that I got fitted for when I visited my mum in London in July. I had paired them with a light knit sweater that fit slightly loosely over my shoulders, often falling down to reveal a collarbone. When I saw him take off his blazer and loosen his tie, I took that as my green light to take off something of my own, knowing I was wearing a neat white tank top underneath. As I slipped the sweater off, covering my face with the fabric, I could see his face through the thin material, making out his features and briefly noticing his eyes on my body. Sitting up straight, I managed to remove the sweater from over my head neatly. Once he saw my face, a soft blush made it to his own.

"Did I mess up my hair?" I asked, as if I hadn’t planned on brushing down the strands that had likely gone astray or as if I was oblivious to the fact that I had just taken off my sweater in front of him.

"Um, yeah, a bit at the top," he said, chuckling as if he wasn’t just clearing his throat in a flustered manner before my face was revealed from under the sweater.

To my surprise, he reached out, inching himself closer to where I was sitting on the bench we shared. With two fingers, his index and middle, he gently brushed down the messy hair on either side of the top of my head.

"Thank you, Harry," I said softly.

However, nothing could have prepared me for what would happen later this year.

As the class settled down to receive their marks on the literature and theory criticism coursework, Mr. Styles walked in, dressed in a well-fitted navy suit with a crisp white shirt. He took off his coat and placed it on the edge of his desk, a departure from his usual habit of draping it over the back of his chair. He wasted no time before pulling out the papers from his leather satchel and making his way down the aisles of the lecture hall, passing out the papers to everyone. When he read out my name, I watched as his eyes searched for me across the hall, darting from one side of the room to the other. It was unlike me to skip his class, so he knew all he had to do was find me. I hadn’t planned this specific event, but I enjoyed it, nonetheless. Once he found me, he smiled sheepishly, yet much more subtly than he did when we were alone and made his way to me.

"Excellent work, Y/L/N," he said as he gently placed the papers on my desk. "I especially appreciate the effort of handwriting this," he remarked, although everyone knew he didn’t care if papers were written by hand or typed on a computer.

I had deliberately written my paper by hand after he replied to an email of mine. I had thanked him for letting me borrow his books, and his response was a charming note saying he’d enjoyed reading my annotations and adored my handwriting. For once, I was glad that my all-girls school had emphasized cursive writing, as I used it to add a romantic touch to my work.

When I finally read his comments and feedback, I was met with admiration and praise. In one of the margins, he had written, “Your insights are so compelling, it’s impossible not to fall in love with your analysis.” On the final page, at the bottom, he had added, “It’s a privilege to be your professor. Your brilliance shines so brightly that it’s clear this paper is a testament to your exceptional talent.”

Often times I worried that there actually was something going on between us, and that his praise and charming were remarks were not that of a proud professor, but of an infatuated man instead. So that day, I decided to address it.

As the lecture drew to a close, I lingered in my seat, carefully packing up my belongings with deliberate slowness. The classroom slowly emptied, the murmur of students’ conversations fading into the background as they made their way out. I wanted to be alone with Mr. Styles, to discuss something that had been weighing on my mind. By the time I made my way down the row of seats to his desk, the room was empty except for the two of us.

“Mr. Styles,” I began hesitantly, catching his eye as he gathered his papers. “I was hoping to ask you something.”

He looked up, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Of course, go ahead. I’m actually glad you stayed behind. There’s something I’d like to ask you as well.”

A sudden rush of anxiety gripped me. The possibility of crossing a line—whether I had done so with my subtle flirtations or if he were about to make a move that could alter our dynamic—was almost too much to bear.

My fantasies of him flashed through my mind. I had dreamt of intimate moments with him like kissing him, waking up in his bed, or better yet, on the couch in his office after a late romantic night together. I had once pictured us sitting on the floor around his small coffee table as we did one time when they ordered takeout during one of our August meetings except this time I would slip my shoes off casually and find a way to stroke my foot, clothed thin leggings, against his leg, looking at him with doe eyes as I dare to not so innocently asks if he ever thought about me sexually.

Hell, I even pictured him going down on me after laying me on his desk and even touched myself to the idea of riding him while he sat on his office chair. I would sneak into the small space between him and his desk and shut off his laptop while he graded my papers, cockily saying “We already know I got an A” – despite my crippling self-doubt without tangible affirmation – as I sit on his lap. In this fantasy he would laugh at my remark and gladly embrace me with a hand on my ass, the other intertwined among thick locks of my long hair, messing it up as I teasingly kiss him, ever so aware of the friction I’m creating between our crotches.

But still, to think that he would propose something to me in that moment, sexual or romantic, casually after class as if I haven’t been pining for two Octobers made me incredibly nervous.

I cleared my throat, trying to steady my voice as I met his gaze. “Mr. Styles, well, first of all this has nothing to do with the actual course itself, maybe a bit but...” I trailed off “It’s... it’s been on my mind for a while.”

He raised an eyebrow, curiosity evident in his expression. “Sure, go ahead. I’m happy to answer anything.” He smiled shyly to comfort me.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding as I prepared to voice my concerns. “Do you think that maybe my behavior in class, my enthusiasm, or even my approach to your feedback has influenced you to… um… maybe to favor me? Over other students I mean.” I began nervously, desperately searching for an expression on his blank face.

“Maybe sometimes I get a little excited and forget that you are my professor and not my friend or something, I think I may have overstepped my boundaries but… but you treat me as an equal which, by the way, I have always greatly appreciated. I mean, it has offered me an opportunity to grow as a student like no other, but I still worry…”I trailed off, now a stern look evident on his face and possibly even hurt.

He paused for a moment, his gaze thoughtful as he considered my words. “I appreciate your honesty and self-awareness,” he said finally, his voice steady but soft. “It’s clear that you’re passionate and dedicated, and I value that. But it’s important to remember that I strive to maintain fairness in all my interactions with students.”

I bit my lip, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. “I understand, Mr. Styles. I just want to make sure that if I take pride in these academic accomplishments… if I want to revel in the fact that I always receive praise from you and rarely any criticism – like todays feedback for example, which included no criticism, I want to make sure it is because I am worthy of it. And not because I won you over by involving myself in your extracurriculars or because we are… uh.. friendly.”

He looked at me with a reassuring smile, his gaze steady and sincere. “First of all, let me assure you that you are never inappropriate. The friendship we’ve developed is separate from our academic interactions. Outside of school hours, I call you by your first name to maintain that distinction. In the classroom, I evaluate you purely on your merit.”

He leaned forward slightly, his tone earnest. “The reason your feedback today contained no criticism is that your paper was truly flawless. If there had been any weaknesses or areas for improvement, I would have pointed them out without hesitation. I hold you in very high regard academically, and that respect extends to all aspects of your work. If I ever notice any shortcomings, I will address them so you have the opportunity to refine and grow.”

His expression softened, a touch of concern in his eyes. “The only issue I see here is that you are doubting yourself. Your achievements and the praise you receive are well-deserved. You have a remarkable ability, and I believe in your potential. My only hope is that you start to see in yourself what I see in you – a brilliant, dedicated student who deserves every bit of recognition they receive.”

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief and a renewed confidence. When I looked down at my lap I heard him continue:

“And of course I value the relationship we have fostered outside of class. Would I be the man I am today if you hadn’t introduced me to the wonders of Moroccan cuisine?” He tried to joke to ease the tension and unsurprisingly it worked as it earned him a soft chuckle of honest amusement.

“Theres the y/n I know and love” he bantered though I cant say my heart didn’t skip a beat at the mention of the word “love”.

“You know, there are many other cuisines you’re yet to try,” I said with a playful glint in my eye. “For someone who’s so well-traveled and cultured, it’s surprising how much you’ve missed out on when it comes to food.” I teased.

“Well, perhaps you’ll tell me all about it when we’re in Amsterdam for the debate competition,” he said with a smile, his eyes twinkling with genuine excitement.

I blinked, momentarily stunned. “Wait, what? You secured that for us?” My voice wavered slightly as my heart leaped with joy. “I can’t believe it! I’m so excited. This is incredible news!”

He chuckled, clearly pleased with my reaction. “I thought you’d like that. It’s an excellent opportunity, and I know how much you’ve been looking forward to it.”

I couldn’t help but beam, my excitement bubbling over. “This is amazing, truly. Thank you so much!” I stepped closer, touched by his thoughtfulness and dedication.

As I reached out, our hands brushed briefly, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver through me. His gaze softened, and I could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I’m just glad we get to share this experience together,” he said softly.

The moment felt charged, filled with unspoken words and mutual appreciation. I nodded, my heart full of gratitude and warmth. “Me too,” I murmured, feeling the depth of our connection more than ever before.

Time jump – December is getting ready for Christmas.

As we stepped into the hotel lobby, the excitement was palpable among the debate team. Amsterdam was already charming me, even though I’d only glimpsed it through the bus window. The streets were lined with picturesque canals and quaint buildings, each one more enchanting than the last. I couldn’t help but talk animatedly about how I’d dreamed of visiting the Netherlands ever since my father told me stories about the blooming flower fields when I was a child.

Harry, who had been sitting beside me on the bus, watched with a fond smile. “You really seem to love the city,” he said. “Maybe we could find a couple of free days between the training and the competition to visit the flower fields.”

My eyes widened in delight. “Really? That would be incredible. But managing a whole field trip with the debate team might be a bit complicated.”

He grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Well, we could go alone. Just you and me. A little escape from the team.” He added. “We could explore some other things too if we’d like.”

The thought of spending time alone with him, wandering through a sea of flowers, made my heart race. I felt a warm blush creep up my cheeks. “That sounds amazing. I’d love that.”

When we checked into the hotel and were given our room keys, Anika, my vice president, and I realized that Harry and I had rooms on a separate floor. In fact, they were deluxe rooms though him and I booked standard rooms for everyone when we went over the budget. Anika seemed particularly perplexed by this.

“Why did you get such a nice room and I didn’t?” Anika questioned, her tone tinged with curiosity as she approached me in the lobby.

I shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. “Maybe Mr. Styles thought I needed a little extra comfort. You know, as president” I joked, not really sure if that was the case. “Besides, he probably just had to make decisions based on what was available.” I found myself lying, knowing I was curious myself.”

Anika raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe he’s using the budget money to splurge on you. I’ve noticed you two have become quite friendly. Could it be that he has a thing for you?” she teased, knowing I have spent months pining and flirting.

I laughed, shaking my head. “I don’t think so, Anika. We’re friends, and that’s all it is. I don’t think he feels anything else.” I said, confidant of my words for the first time in this conversation. “Plus, you are the only person other than me and Harry that got her own room. Others are sharing and you likely have a king bed all to yourself.”

“Harry? Is that his name now?” she smirked. “I guess you forgot to tell me you are on a first name basis. Are you holding out on me Y/L/N?” she joked though she was never oblivious to the fact that you kept some encounters with Harry to yourself, as if it would fuel the fantasy somehow.

I raised an eyebrow and gave her a playful grin. “Oh, come on. You have to admit everyone in the poetry society calls him that when we are outside the university.” I said, knowing that it was only one guy who was a family friend of Harry’s who got the honor.

She chuckled, but there was a hint of curiosity in her gaze. “Right. But you can’t deny there’s something a bit… special about how you two interact. Just saying.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m not holding my breath for anything more on this trip. We’re here for the debate, remember? That’s the focus. But if anything happens later…” I shrugged playfully as she returned my knowing smile.

“Fair enough. Just keep your eyes open anyway, okay? Sometimes things happen when you least expect them to.”

I heard Harry calling my name from the end of the hall. I turned around to see him walking towards me with a thoughtful expression.

“Hey, do you still want to gather the debate team for a brief practice session before the afternoon debate?” he asked, his tone carrying a hint of concern.

I shook my head, smiling. “No, no need. You were right; they need a break. Plus, everyone has their notecards and seems prepared.”

Harry nodded, his smile relaxing into a satisfied grin. “Alright then. Let’s head to the elevator; it’ll be a bit quieter now anyway.”

We walked to the elevator together, and once inside, he pressed the button for my floor. The confined space seemed to amplify the gentle hum of the elevator, making it feel intimate.

Harry glanced at me with a soft smile, his eyes lingering a moment longer than usual. “Your hair looks different today. Did you do something special with it?” he asked, his voice carrying a playful undertone.

I felt a tinge of embarrassment, my cheeks warming slightly. “I just blow-dried it differently since I was in a rush this morning,” I replied, trying to sound casual.

Harry’s smile grew, his eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and something else I couldn’t quite place. “Well, it looks beautiful. I wouldn’t have guessed it was rushed.”

His compliment made my heart flutter, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Harry. That makes me feel a lot better about this hectic morning” I tried to divert the conversation, feeling nervous at his focus on me.

“Yeah, well, at least you have matching socks,” he joked, and before I could ask him what the hell he was talking about, he lifted his foot, revealing his own mismatched socks with a playful grin.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You and your accidental fashion choices,” I said, shaking my head with a smile, remembering that time I complimented his shoes only to find out he ordered the wrong ones online and couldn’t get them returned. He looked handsome in them anyway, I had told him.

He shrugged, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? I like to keep things interesting. And besides, it’s a good thing someone’s got their fashion game on point around here.” He said, brushing off the fact that it was a rushed accident.

I playfully nudged him. “Well, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. And for the record, I do have matching socks today, just in case you were wondering.”

Harry’s eyes softened as he looked at me, a warmth in his gaze that made my heart flutter. “Well, I must say, your socks are a lot less distracting than mine.”

I chuckled, feeling the tension between us ease into something more comfortable and light-hearted.

As the elevator chimed and the doors slid open to my floor, Harry didn’t make a move to exit. Instead, he turned to me with a charming grin, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “Let me walk you to your room. It’s the least I can do. After all, it’s not every day I get to be a gentleman,” he said, completely ignoring the fact that his room was directly across from the elevator.

I laughed softly, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You’re too kind, Harry. It’s just down the hall here,” I said, gesturing toward my door, which was a short distance away from his.

As we walked together down the hallway, the atmosphere felt lighter, filled with a quiet, pleasant tension. Harry’s presence beside me was comforting, and I found myself appreciating the little things—like how he occasionally glanced my way, as if trying to make the moment last just a bit longer.

When we reached my door, Harry reached out and brushed his hand lightly against mine as he opened the door for me. “Even so, a little extra time with you—well, when else can I talk about my accidental shenanigans and have someone listen intently?” His voice was low and warm, and his gaze lingered on me with an intensity that sent a thrill down my spine.

I felt a flutter in my chest at his words but remained blissfully unaware of the deeper implications behind his gaze. “Well,” I said, smiling as I unlocked the door and stepped inside. “Thanks for walking me. It’s always nice to have a bit of company, especially when the company is as pleasant as yours.”

Harry’s smile grew softer, and he took a step back, still holding my gaze. “Anytime, y/n. I’ll see you in a few hours. Get some rest.

“You too, Harry.” I said as he walked back to his own room.

——————————————————————

PART TWO IS NOW UP 🌷🌷

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles story #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic rec

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sl-vega · 2 months ago

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01; we need to stop meeting like this

project: love liason! - a scaramouche smau

Getting out of your seat and walking towards Ms. Lisa's desk after everyone left to minimize potential embarrassment, you quickly claimed your phone and gave a quick, curt, apology before quickly running out the door and being met with Lyney's signature teasing grin.

"Don't start."

"Never did."

Lynette shortly followed, tapping his shoulder signifying that they were going to head to their next class together and you waved a temporary goodbye to the both of them before heading to your own locker.

184, 184, 184....

You chanted like a mantra in your head as you scoured the hallway for your locker, you knew where it was, it was just a bit hard to adjust to the new location.

A little while after searching for a bit, you finally managed to make your way over to your new designated locker. A bright pink post it note stuck onto the bland metal door with your last name written on it with bold sharpie to avoid confusion.

You plucked of the piece of paper off the door and slipped a few of your textbooks in plus a few binders, you were about to continue organizing before a tap on your shoulder interrupted your cleaning time.

"Could you move a bit?"

Vibrant violet eyes met your's and for a second you were lost for words. The boy didn't look familiar, maybe he was a transfer student?

"Oh, sorry, my bad."

You nervously shifted to the side a bit so the peculiar stranger could access his own locker.

Curiosity had gotten to you and you were about to ask for his name, but then he was promptly tackled by Venti, who's name you only knew because he was very adamant on getting you to join band in sophomore year.

"Scara!"

"Venti- Do that again and I will kill you-"

Didn't seem like the most sociable type, maybe keeping your distance was for the best.

Other than the encounter with your new locker mate, nothing else during the day was notable.

...is what you would have said if he wasn't everywhere you went.

Second, third, fourth period, if you can count it, he was right there.

And your school was pretty big, so chances of having him in every single one of your classes were low.

But lo and behold some omnipotent being seemed to rig the system and just pelted this random kid face first into your life.

He seemed to catch on to it as well, but never actually mentioned anything, nor even talked to you either.

Your first first official conversation took place during an assembly at the end of the day to celebrate the start of the new school year, and to welcome the freshmen (that Furina still held a vehement disdain for.)

When the afternoon announcement came on calling down each of the grades, year by year, to head to the auditorium, you found yourself shoulder-to-shoulder with said boy as everyone else seemed to be shoving their way forward to find their friends.

Which you would have also been doing too, if you weren't already completely drained by now.

(Seriously Mr. Zhongli, homework on the first day? Who do you think you are?)

You turned your gaze to your 'new' classmate next to you, who was still mindlessly moving ahead like the rest of your class whilst scrolling on his phone.

Maybe you should try and strike up a conversation with him? Maybe he isn't a big fan of social interactions, but getting on his good side would certainly be convenient seeing as how much you would have to see him throughout the school year.

Hi! My name is (Y/N), what's your's?

You were nearing the entrance of the auditorium and you couldn't spot any of your friends yet, so maybe it kind of was a last ditch effort on your part, but it couldn't hurt.

Steeling your resolve as your class finally stepped foot into the large room, you properly turned to look at the boy and got your introduction ready in your head.

"Hey-"

"Scara! There you are!"

Suddenly, a significantly taller figure tackled the other boy into a hug, interrupting your valiant effort to befriend the strange boy.

"Childe you're gonna choke me someday."

"You don't see more for the whole day and I don't even get a 'hi'? You're heartless man."

Suddenly Childe, (who you now only realized was Childe) turned to you this time, and your heart seemed to give out on you in that very moment.

"Oh, hey (Y/N)! I didn't know you two knew each other-"

"We don't-"

"-Don't mind him he's just going through a phase. Wanna sit with us?"

Wait- Wait what?! Did he just- There's no way it was that easy-

"I'd love to-"

"(Y/N)! We were looking for you!"

You heard Lyney yell from a few seats away, Chlorinde was also with your friends, next to Navia, she offered you a quick and polite smile and wave. Furina was patting a seat in between her and Navia, Mona was on her phone before greeting you. And Lynette mouthed 'I'm so sorry' from her seat next to Lyney because she was the only one who seemed to realize how shit her brother's timing was.

"Well, looks like you found your friends, I'll see you around yeah?"

You just nodded and muttered a soft 'Yeah, totally..." as the boy walked away with his arm slinged around his friend's shoulder presumably chatting his ear off.

You walked towards your friends, waving at the other girls before glaring at Lyney, who's shoulder was promptly swatted by Lynette.

"Fucking dumbass she was this close to getting one-on-one time with Childe!"

You slumped into your seat as you sighed.

Fate really did hate you huh?

additional notes:

when idk how to make the slowburn slower, I just make one of the friends the scape goat

no see if lyney let them sit together the whole plot wouldn't have happened

(it is a canon event I fear)

lyney no.1 scarayn fan trust

also look at me go with the consistent uploads

𝜗𝜚 SYNOPSIS: you're head over heels in love with childe, and scaramouche is (begrudingly) smitten with his "rival" mona. and, by sheer divine coincidence, you both happen to be the best friends of each other's objects of affection, so you strike a deal with each other. if scaramouche helps you ask out childe, you'll set him up with mona. so with the annual spring formal right around the corner, the two of you vow to be each other's wingmans so you can end your junior year on a high note (and maybe even kick off your senior year with a new relationship!). between, scheming, planning, and researching, you and scaramouche find yourselves developing a new relationship via helping each other out. now the real question is whether this friendship will remain as a pure platonic bond, or blossom into something more?

🎀 - taglist!;

@agaygothicmushroom @035814 @freyao7, @sketcheeee @tsukimara @shyentsmissingink @justpeachyteastea @aries-afk @lxkeeeee @sakiimeo @sugxryratz @shutingstar @lalaloveallmydays @bellflower1257 @haruumei @kichiyosh1 @littlemisssatanist @dee-zbignuts @candyescapism @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @princess-peachy @franaby @jllyfsh-lvr @heusalettle

#💌 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙹𝙴𝙲𝚃: 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scara x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scara smau #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #wanderer smau #wanderer #scaramouche #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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em1e · 1 year ago

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ceremonies | mikey's first big ceremony and no one's there to celebrate :(

⿻ mini series ft. you dating shinichiro and whatever chaos that comes from that !! ✕ cute fluff !! ♡ series m.list

mikey was honestly really bummed out.

he knows his grandpa couldn't make it to his terrific kid ceremony, knows the older gentleman had something else to attend to that simply couldn't be rescheduled in time to see his grandson walk across the little stage, and mikey was fine with that. but when shinichiro, his beloved brother who never missed anything in all the years that mikey has been alive, said he suddenly couldn't come either, mikey was upset.

rightfully so, he’d argue — the boy has gone a whole month without beating anyone up on school property. it was something small, sure, but he was proud nonetheless.

and had no one to share that pride with.

he practically pouted from his spot on the stage, itching to take off the stupid collared shirt shinichiro made him wear while he dropped the news that he wouldn't be in attendance. he doesn't even know why he still showed, honestly, no one being there to watch leaving a bitter taste in his mouth while his eyes scan over every other parent in the crowd.

“and now for our lovely third graders-” the principal’s voice is grating against his ears, but that’s his cue to stand. each of his peers takes a folder from the man, smiling and waving to their parents as they snap pictures and each second mikey stands on the stage is another second that annoyance trickles its way under his skin.

“sano manjiro.” his principal calls his name and he walks to the front to grab the folder, mouth set in a straight line as he looks over the crowd.

and it’s then he spots you.

smiling and waving to him with a video camera in hand, recording him walk across the stage. his mouth upturns very slightly, offering a small shy wave to you as he’s ushered back to his seat so the next row of students can get their folders as orderly as possible.

for the next twenty-five minutes, mikey is practically buzzing in his seat, and when the students are told they’re free to go, he jumps off the stage and runs right to you.

“hi.” you laugh out when he hugs you, returning it with an equal amount of effort, “i recorded it all so everyone else can watch when we get you home.”

“thank you.” he mumbles out into your shirt. you almost miss the words from the sounds surrounding you, but the small pat you leave on his back is enough to tell him you heard him just fine.

“c’mon, we’re goin’ for ice cream and then i’m gonna take you by the garage.” you hum out, peeling his arms from around you easily until you’re able to hook your hand in his, “we’ll have to come back later and grab emma though.”

“we’re not bringing her with us?” mikey asks as you walk out of the auditorium.

“not unless you want to,” you laugh, “it’s your celebration.”

he pauses a second, mulling over the thought, before beaming at you, “i’d like her to come then.”

he leaves out the part of wanting to rub his awards in her face as you make your way to the front office to check the two of them out.

#salmon rowe #sano shinichiro #shinichiro sano #shinichiro x reader #sano shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #sano x reader #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader

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xuchiya · 2 months ago

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"Dance with me" || park seonghwa || one-shot

| genre: non!idol ateez. fluff. slice of life | mentions: teasing. fainting. jewelry gift. | This is literally my high school delusions. My old school is literally an 'old school' school like no phones and computers, being in a relationship is not allowed, and big ass windows as our source of fans--- i mean we do have electric fans and ceiling fans but with the weather and a very old, close to dying, e-fans? We really have to depend on the wind from our windows. Anyways, this list is basically a true experience. My personal favorite? Song Mingi's.

To visualize the story, here: How I imagine

The festival had ended with a loud bang. It is a celebration of the schools’ founding anniversary. Old students came and celebrated—even shared some advice in looking for a university and how to pass their entrance exam or stories about how they made the head school minister angry because of them not attending the last day of practice in graduation.

“Hey! Ms. Naduranta asks for you to be part of the cotillion, have you given them the permission slip?” You snapped out of your thoughts when Seonghwa spoke, not even looking up from his work, he was facing your desk instead of his. He was jotting down notes that he missed last monday and is in a hurry to finish it before the practice for the promenade happens and he doesn’t need to overwork himself to comply with his missing requirements.

You shake your head, sighing. You were over the moon to be part of the dance but you have no confidence at all. Placing your pen beside your notebook as Seonghwa continues to write down his notes, looking at him. “I’m a bad dancer and besides, my absence could be a chance for the others to join.”

This time, Seonghwa looks up from his work, scoffing, playfully tapping the pen on your forehead. You mouth a small ‘ow’ before rubbing it off, “You are one of the good dancers here. Ms. Naduranta is the one asking for you; it means she has a feeling that you will win the crown for the night.”

You scoff this time, leaning back on your chair. “I’m bad and there’s nothing stopping me.” Seonghwa eyes you in judgement before shrugging, continuing his work, “Whatever.”

Prom. It was the event every senior anticipated, and Park Seonghwa, being in charge of the sound system, was busier than ever. He darted in and out of the classroom, monitoring the songs and equipment, leaving you alone to complete your notes and requirements, which he would later borrow to catch up.

Despite the demands of the upcoming event, Seonghwa remained by your side. He knew about your social butterfly still inside its cocoon, no anytime of the day will it try to come out of it. Though, there were times you spoke about you not including his obligation in his daily life but he debunked your words and chose to stay with you. No matter what, he speaks highly of you, he mentions things about ‘that’s her favorite’ or ‘she does not like that’.

Everyone thought you were his girlfriend; well, you are his childhood friend. Don’t get yourself wrong on this because he is popular as the school’s heartthrob and you feared he might drift away into the spotlight, surrounded by admirers, but like mention he stayed with you. Still, the envious glares of others sometimes made you question how long it would last.

You walk inside the room, already expecting the class to be half full since all morning classes were cancelled to prepare for the prom, and you were selected to participate in the dance.

Seonghwa saw you, sliding the door close of your classroom, before walking towards the direction of the auditorium. He smiles, his heart speeding at the sight of you, holding the box of chords and extensions for the sound system, “Goodmorning, where are you going?”

You look up, rubbing your arm, as the chilly morning nips on your skin, “Good morning Seonghwa, I’m on my way to the auditorium.”

Nodding his head, hiding his excitement because Seonghwa knew you accepted the offer after 4 days of considering joining. He heard from Ms. Naduranta about your acceptance and now every day, if he only knew this is what he has to see every day, Seonghwa watched you practice with your partner, his jaw tightening with an unfamiliar feeling that gnawed at him. He couldn't shake the discomfort—the way your partner held your hand, how you smiled during the routine—it stirred something deep inside him.

His heart pounded harder each time, the jealousy creeping up uninvited. It wasn’t just about the dance. Seonghwa felt a possessive pull, an intense need to keep you close, fearing that someone else might steal you away, even though he never doubted your loyalty as a friend.

He wouldn't have let you join but he re-considers it after seeing you all smiley and interactive with other students.

Finally, on the day when you were alone in the auditorium, waiting for the others to join practice, a quiet settled over the room. You wandered over to the table where the sound system was set up, but there was no sign of Seonghwa. Curiosity getting the better of you, you sat down on the table and picked up his MP3 player. As you scrolled through his playlist, you found several old songs—tracks you both used to listen to when you were younger. Nostalgia washed over you as you stopped at one song and pressed play. The soft melody echoed throughout the auditorium, filling the empty space.

‘You’re just too good to be true …’ Your ears were satisfied with the soft music. These past days you were having a headache and earache as the loud music blares, almost to the point you have to yell to the others.

“Feeling a bit nostalgic eh?” Seonghwa's voice interrupted your thoughts. He emerged from the sound system room. You looked up, giggling, "I thought you deleted this one!"

He scoffs, placing his hand inside his blazer, "Why would I delete that?"

You rose an eyebrow, "Because you said it's not your type of music?" But truth to be told, all your favorite music were inside the MP3 as well, he hears you playing them every weekend. Including the one playing currently. His hand extended toward you, "May I?"

You meet his gaze, and without hesitation, you placed your hand in his. He guided you into a dance, your hands gliding above your heads, arms brushing against one another before he took your hand and spun you around. The dance was graceful, almost effortless, as if you had rehearsed it a thousand times. With every step, your heartbeat quickened, but not from the dance—it was from being so close to him. The warmth of his hand in yours, the way his eyes never left your face, made you realize that your feelings for him had grown deeper than just childhood friendship. You had always known he was special to you.

As the song drew to a close, Seonghwa led you into the final move of the dance. With a smooth dip, he cradled you gently in his arms, your faces inches apart. His eyes searched yours, and in that moment, you saw the same affection reflected back at you.

“I like you; you know?” he whispered, his voice steady, filled with sincerity. Seeing you in the arms of your partner, just a minute, he might not like the words will come out and guarantee himself inside the principal's office. So, with a small courage, he had spoken those words that he hid for a long time.

Before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, sealing the confession with a tender gesture.

The dance ended, but the moment lingered in the air, and you knew that despite everything—his popularity, the attention from others—his heart belonged to you, just as yours did to him.

Smiling softly, running your fingers on his jaw, tapping his forehead with your forefinger, "Took you long enough, Seonghwa."

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez atiny #ateez seonghwa #ateez park seonghwa #park seonghwa #park seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa #seonghwa ateez #seonghwa x reader #atz

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youngsadlesbian · 5 months ago

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MOTHER'S DAY — carina deluca and maya bishop

pairing: carina deluca x maya bishop x daughter!reader

summary: maya and carina go to y/n's school for the mother's day celebration, where they are moved by her heartfelt speech and special song.

a/n: i'm so obsessed with this one and i really hope you like it! english is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes, guys.

word count: 879

warnings: none, just pure fluff <3

Sat side by side in the small, brightly decorated auditorium of Y/N's elementary school, Maya and Carina's hearts swelling with anticipation and pride. It was the Mother's Day celebration, and they were eager to see what their eight-year-old daughter had prepared for them.

"I can't believe she's doing this," Maya whispered, her hand finding Carina's and squeezing it gently.

Carina smiled, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "I know. Our little girl is growing up so fast."

The lights dimmed, and the chatter in the room gradually subsided as the principal stepped onto the stage to welcome the parents. Maya and Carina exchanged a look of excitement and leaned forward in their seats, their attention fully on the stage where Y/N's class would soon perform.

First, there were poems recited by the children, then some drawings displayed on a slideshow, each one accompanied by a heartfelt message for their mothers. Maya and Carina clapped enthusiastically for each child, but their hearts beat faster with anticipation for Y/N's turn.

Finally, it was Y/N's class's turn to perform. Y/N walked onto the stage, her face beaming with a mix of nervousness and excitement. Maya's heart swelled with pride at the sight of her confident daughter.

Y/N stood in front of the microphone, taking a deep breath before beginning. "Hi everyone! Today, I want to talk about my moms, Maya and Carina."

Maya felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she listened to Y/N speak.

"My mom, Maya, is a firefighter. She saves people's lives and helps keep our city safe. She's my hero, and I'm really proud of her."

A wave of emotion swept through Maya. She had always tried to shield Y/N from the dangers of her job, but hearing her daughter's pride brought a mixture of humility and gratitude. Maya glanced at Carina, who was also visibly moved, her hand clutching Maya's tightly.

Y/N continued, her voice clear and steady.

"And my mama, Carina, is a doctor. She helps people feel better when they're sick. She speaks Italian, and she taught me a song in Italian to sing for her today."

The audience murmured in appreciation as Y/N began to sing, her sweet voice filling the room with a beautiful Italian lullaby. Maya watched Carina's face light up with joy, her eyes shimmering with tears of happiness. The song was a testament to the special bond Carina and Y/N shared over their shared heritage and language.

When Y/N finished singing, she turned to Maya and Carina with a shy smile.

"I'm really lucky to have not just one, but two moms—the best moms in the world."

Maya couldn't hold back her tears any longer. She stood up, her applause loud and proud, and Carina joined her, their hearts overflowing with love for their daughter. The entire auditorium erupted in applause and cheers, celebrating not only Y/N's performance but also the love and support that Maya and Carina provided as parents.

After the performance, Maya and Carina joined Y/N backstage, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

"You were amazing, sweetheart," Maya whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Carina kissed Y/N's cheek. "We're so proud of you, amore."

Y/N grinned, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

"I'm glad you liked it. I wanted to make today special for both of you."

They walked out of the school together, Maya and Carina each holding one of Y/N's hands. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the three of them as they headed home.

As they settled into their living room later that evening, Maya couldn't help but reflect on the day's events.

"Y/N's speech... and that song," she said, her voice still filled with awe. "I never imagined she would do something like that."

Carina nodded, her smile soft and tender.

"She's so thoughtful and perceptive for her age. I love that she acknowledges both of our roles in her life."

"I hope she always feels this way," Maya murmured, a hint of worry creeping into her voice.

Carina squeezed Maya's hand reassuringly.

"She will, Maya. Our love for her is what matters most. We just need to keep showing her that."

Maya nodded, feeling a sense of peace settle over her. Y/N's heartfelt words had reminded her of the importance of their family bond. No matter what challenges they faced, they would always be there for each other—with love, understanding, and unwavering support.

As they prepared for bed that night, Maya kissed Y/N goodnight, whispering,

"You really made today special, kiddo. We love you so much."

Y/N smiled sleepily.

"I love you too, Mom. And you too, Mama."

Maya and Carina exchanged a knowing glance as they tucked Y/N in, their hearts full of gratitude for the love and joy that filled their lives. They knew that as long as they had each other, they could weather any storm and celebrate every joy—big or small—that came their way.

And as they drifted off to sleep that night, Maya and Carina held each other close, grateful for the precious gift of their daughter and the beautiful family they had built together.

#carina deluca x reader #maya bishop x reader #carina deluca x maya bishop x reader #station 19

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hitlikehammers · 10 months ago

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i realize that this is a world where anything is possible and—

a Pro-Football/Rockstar Super Bowl Steddie AU for @thefreakandthehair

I don’t as a rule write sports AUs, but I do, as a rule, bend my own rules when someone gives me prompts for a fic I’m writing as a gift.

So: when @thefreakandthehair prompted me with ‘Starry Night’ but said she would have liked also something about football? I tried to fulfill the request (try being the operative term)

Lex, I hope your birthday was as brilliant as you deserve, and that this little fic in celebration of you brightens your day

title from this poem, aptly titled and about, what else, but football; divider credit here

(Also sincerest thanks to the ever-lovely @pearynice for listening to me babble about this and having a look at the final product and being amazing all around, and @hbyrde36 for blindly hlepng pick which ending was ultimately posted—you guys are the best ✨)

✨also on ao3

“I am about ninety-nine-point-nine…” Eddie chews on his bottom lip, coils a stray curl around his index finger and resists dragging it across his mouth: “eight, point-nine-eight percent sure I’m not supposed to be here.”

He’s entirely sure he’s not supposed to be here. Not now.

“What are they going to do?” Steve scoffs at him, leading him by hand through the tunnels. “Kick us out? Ban us?”

He snorts, and Eddie stops trying to not-hide behind his hair a little because: not supposed to fucking be here.

“You’re gonna get us arrested or something.”

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Steve cackles a little and maybe Eddie’s anxious, but he’ll never not melt at that sound, music brighter, holy like he could never touch, let alone play: “Eddie Munson, poster child for sticking it to the goddamn man,” Steve tuts, clicks his tongue and shakes his head: “afraid of stadium security.”

“Pretty sure they’ve got better people on payroll for this,” Eddie points out under his breath but never once fights Steve’s hold, his lead: he’d put his whole fucking life in this man’s hands, no question. It’s just that…

“Relax, babe,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand in his own; “no one will know.”

Eddie…Eddie doesn’t doubt Steve, never would, but, like—this is a big fucking deal.

“If Chrissy finds out we fucked something up—“ because that’s why Eddie’s here, obviously, at least in this specific capacity; not like Corroded fucking Coffin, no matter how many albums they’ve sold, would ever land a gig like this for themselves. Nope: Chrissy’s been a friend for eons, and when her career skyrocketed they were all ecstatic for her, but she never changed from being a hometown girl with a sweet heart, never let the fame or the money or the statues dull that down in her, so she was still the cheerleader who clapped for Eddie in middle school, and so of course she invited Eddie’s band to feature on a track—and of course they said yes.

So when she signed on for the halftime show and knew they’d be nearby recording? She’d asked them to join her on stage as special guests for a couple songs.

And no matter what else proved an incentive: Eddie and the guys would have said yes in a heartbeat. It’s the fucking halftime show, but more than that? It’s Chrissy Cunningham, and she smiled and cheered when the Hawkins auditorium sat in silent judgment in the face of their…everything.

“A,” Steve’s pulling him along just a little further, still; Eddie can tell they’re almost to the field, can see literal light at the end of the tunnel; “we will not fuck anything up.”

“I’m clumsy,” Eddie offers a token protest; it’s not untrue, but he’s also kinda half-assing the fight of it; “I might—”

“B,” Steve’s cut him off; “Chrissy loves me,” then he points to Eddie; “Chrissy loves you,” and Eddie tucks his chin a little more to press the bunch of his hair tighter against the seam of his lips; “Chrissy also loves us,” Steve gestures between the two of them, then, chest-to-chest and back; “as in, us together.”

And yeah, okay: Steve had been Chrissy’s friend properly before Eddie, used to help her get the height on her ponytail before games, caused a million rumors but they were never an item—so. Yeah. Chrissy loves them. As themselves, and as SteveandEddie.

“Just here,” Steve eases them to a halt and steadies Eddie by the biceps when he stumbles for the stop anyway because: clumsy, if he’s not on stage. Steve knows this, they’ve been at this too long for him not to, but.

He anticipates it so perfectly, and it still kinda skips in Eddie’s pulse like a giddy schoolgirl for the fact of it. They they’ve got this.

“Close your eyes,” Steve instructs as he smooths his hands past Eddie’s elbows, down to circle his wrists.

Eddie feels his eyes get big as he tries to frown, but gapes instead.

“I’ll run into—”

“I will not let you run into anything, love,” Steve pulls him in for a quick peck on the lips, and speaks into the contact sweet and warm:

“I’ve got you.”

Yeah. Yeah he fucking does.

Giddy-schoolgirl-under-his-ribs again, Jesus.

Eddie slips his eyes closed and barely even has to wait for Steve to grasp his hands tighter.

“Okay,” Steve murmurs deep and rumbly and hot under Eddie’s skin as he walks him at a careful pace further, further, turns a little, further again then slows: “now,” he brings Eddie’s hands together and kisses his knuckles, and Eddie’s not just warm under the skin, now he’s warm everywhere.

“Now, follow me down, we’re just going to sit,” and Steve presses one hand to the small of Eddie’s back and leads him, and Eddie goes because there is nowhere he wouldn’t, nowhere he won’t go with Steve beside him.

It’s just not possible; he’s not built to be anywhere else.

“And now lie back,” Steve eases him gentle even as he says it, and Eddie lets him, enjoys the feeling of being handled like this, precious and delicate almost, in this space that’s anything but save that it’s them, and what they are is stronger than spun silk, tested further than diamonds but they’re also tender, they’re also blood and bone and tangled together soft and vulnerable, if only just to shore each other up and tie together tighter.

“There you go,” Steve says as Eddie feels the whole of his body, the length of his back make full contact with the ground; “and tip your head,” he puts his open palm under Eddie’s chin like he needs to guide, but Eddie figures it’s just to touch: he doesn’t complain, because hell if he minds. As if he could ever.

“Now open your eyes.”

Eddie lets himself bask in the blind touch of Steve for just one more breath before he blinks and looks and—

“Oh,” Eddie barely breathes, and he can feel Steve beaming at him, so wide and shining out in the dark like the meteors that are streaking across endless stretch of sky above them, leaving trails behind to mark their paths, to leave proof of their being before they burn on descent and oh, oh.

“Right?” Steve breathes close to Eddie’s ear, strokes Eddie’s pulsepoint where he still holds at the wrist, kisses Eddie’s jaw as Eddie gapes up because it doesn’t matter how many times he sees the show, it’s awe inspiring.

So much like the man next to him, pressed tight against him so Eddie can feel him breathe: never once has Eddie stopped being filled up with wonder for him, never once will Eddie ever do anything but marvel that he’s here, that he exists, that Eddie can look at him and know in his bones that it’s true, unshakable when he stares and thinks: mine.

“Stevie,” Eddie spins his hand so it can lace with Steve’s, fingers interlocked as he turns into the press of his mouth to catch his lips for real, to taste: “sweetheart,” he mouths, tongues into Steve’s kiss: “it’s beautiful.”

You’re beautiful goes unsaid because they say it clear with touch; what we have is so much more than beautiful is the understood fucking you. Given like the spin of a planet, or the expanse of the universe.

“I know how much you like the stars,” Steve shapes the words more than speaks them, never moving back to pull apart their lips, not all the way; “and when I saw there was a shower, and we’d have a shot to see it, I,” and Steve presses a quick kiss into Eddie then: I couldn’t not, and Eddie thinks lucky isn’t a word that means anything at all, in the face of this.

He watches with Steve pressed against him, slid down to fit with his head on Eddie’s shoulder for a long stretch of seconds before the question comes to mind and he kisses Steve temple, reverent, but still in askance:

“The lights?”

Because it’s too dark. There are still a few bits of the stage setup that need to be moved before the kickoff, so he has to figure there’d be some lights, but the space surrounding them is a near-perfect void.

“So maybe someone knows we’re here,” Steve answers, a little wry. “I maybe bribed Lenny in Operations,” and of all the people working in this mass-ass complex, for this insane fucking event, Eddie actually knows who that is; let him bum a smoke the first time they came to rehearse. “We have about half an hour.”

Jesus. Jesus.

“God, I love you,” Eddie half-exhales, half-wonders at this, this, this specimen of a human before him, pressed against him close and he pulls Steve in, brings their still-joined hands to his chest and stretches down to kiss the tips of Steve’s fingers before just pressing hands there, making sure Steve feels:

“Every time I think you’ve stretched this heart as far as it’ll go,” Eddie whispers, because it’s sacred; this feeling, this thing they make together as one: “every time, you find room to fill it up all over again,” Eddie feels that stretched-heart of his pound a little beneath their hands, and fucking good, too, because then Steve feels it at the exact same time, and that’s what matters, what counts: that Steve knows the depth of this in Eddie’s chest, always; that he understands because:

“You’re magic.”

And Eddie means that. Eddie means that with all his pounding heart.

“You’re playing the Super Bowl tomorrow,” Steve says it like an explanation; like it’s enough of a reason. Like he would have done all of this anyway, just because.

“I am playing as a guest at the halftime,” Eddie knows that’s correct, he knows, but it’s still instinct to look at Steve like he’s making sure he gets the terms for all the different sports games right and it’s worth the knee-jerk instinct surviving all these years just for the grin and the nod he gets, so encouraging and indulgent and sweet; “show.”

“You are playing the Super Bowl, tomorrow.”

Because that’s the other thing, the thing that was entirely not-music-related that existed as the whole fucking incentive for Corroded Coffin to be in town for studio space in the first place: Steve, his Stevie, his partner and lover, beloved and adored, his Steve Harrington is the goddamn starting linebacker in the motherfucking Super Bowl.

Like Eddie would miss that for his fucking life.

Which: hold on.

“Don’t you have curfew? Coach’s orders?” Eddie turns a quirked brow to him and Steve just grins and, god: taps Eddie’s nose.

Gawwwwwd.

“I’m sneaky, baby,” Steve whispers and fuck, the stars above them are exquisite but they’ve got, like, nothing on the way Steve’s eyes shine. “Stealthy like a ninja.”

Eddie wants to laugh, snicker maybe a little under his breath but he…he can’t.

He can’t because he’s, his whole body feels weightless and tingly and untethered from gravity and matter and any atmosphere that isn’t Steve and Steve alone, like just be next to this man, the love of his life, is akin to and far beyond swimming alongside the shooting stars overhead: he can only relish, can only marvel.

He gets this. He gets to have this.

Unfathomable. And yet.

“You did all this for me,” Eddie exhales, still wondering at this. At Steve: the fact of him. The whole of him. This is the night before the biggest game of Steve’s career, likely the biggest day of Steve’s life and yet, here he is. Breaking rules, risking fuck knows what, just for Eddie. It’s, it’s…

“That can’t be a surprise by now,” Steve breathes back, nuzzles their noses a little and Eddie keens, because fuck.

“It’s not just,” Eddie tries to collect his thoughts, his point; “this is big, Stevie,” he says, like that encompasses it, encompasses the day they’re on the brink of, and the fact that they’re here right now, just before that day:

“This is big.”

“All the more reason,” Steve nips at Eddie’s lip then leans back, meets Eddie’s gaze square on before he breathes out slow, and lies back down, turns Eddie’s body to him, both of them on their sides and then he brings their hands between them, close enough that they hit both their chests when they breathe in: “because,” and he takes one more breath, and Eddie doesn’t know why it feels like Steve’s steeling himself, or building up to a thing he feels he has to steel himself for, because there’s nothing he could say or do that’ll sway Eddie from his side, there’s nothing, but then—Steve doesn’t feel stiff, or scared, or nervous against him, his hand in Eddie’s hand.

It just feels big, this moment, whatever it already holds or is gearing up to hold as more; it feels momentous, equally so, either way.

“Win or lose, tomorrow, no matter how big this is,” Steve finally speaks words into the tiny space between them, his grip firm and his eyes unwavering on Eddie the whole time. “I won the only thing I really wanted in life,” and his smile, dear god.

There are no stars, falling or burning, dying in a supernova or sprawling newly born: not a single goddamn one could compare.

“And he’s not really a prize, so it’s not really winning,” Steve’s watching him with so much love, so much love; “he’s a gift, he’s my heart,” and Steve mirrors Eddie this time, draws Eddie in to press against his chest, to feel the fluttering there; “and he gave me his to keep safe, and that was a whole other gift on top of everything,” and Steve laughs a little, his own overwhelming awe, and Eddie almost doesn’t know what to do, save grip Steve so fucking tight; save to memorize the cadence of his pulse like a song.

“So no matter what you call it,” Steve draws a deep breath and lets it shudder a little when he blows it back out; “when I wake up in the morning and I know he’s mine, and I’m his,” and Eddie lifts the hand not held to Steve’s heart to cup Steve’s cheek and just touch, just drink him in:

“I feel like the biggest winner in the world,” Steve says it, so honest, so heartfelt: so much.

“You’re a fucking sap,” Eddie doesn’t realize he’s crying until the tears clog the words when they tumble from his lips but then he’s leaning, then he’s kissing Steve like the world’s ending only to begin again and it’s perfect, it’s heavenly like the fires burning miles upon miles above their heads, cosmic and immense but then Steve’s pulling back, but his open palms are pressed to Eddie’s chest to manage it and it’s contact, it’s grounding: it, too, is perfect.

“Oh, really,” Steve’s lips curl, even as they’re swollen at the pout and wet-red still; “I’m a fucking sap?” but he doesn’t even look irritated, he looks entertained, no: he looks delighted and what—

“Let me one-up your standards then, Munson,” and Steve’s leaning in, catching Eddie’s lips one more time before he raises up on his knees, tips back on his calves and lifts from those glorious fucking thighs of his and if Steve’s ignoring curfew entirely Eddie thinks he’s got a good chance of asking for those thighs to be wrapped around him at some point in the next twelve hours before he gets to spend a good stretch of hours sharing the clothed version in those tight fucking pants with the whole goddamn country, sure, but at Jumbotron-size he can’t wholeheartedly complain and—

“Edward Elliot Munson.”

Wait. That’s him. He’s Edward Eli—

Why is he being full-named here, now?

He starts to sit up too, brings his eyes up from Steve’s glorious legs where they stretch even under his track pants, to meet his eyes and—

They shine. They shine.

They put the stars and the space matter and the glow of angels on high if they’re there at all: they put them all to fucking shame.

Steve puts them to shame.

“Eddie,” Steve breathes deep and Eddie catches the gleam of something in an obvious shape in his hands, but it’s only in his periphery: he cannot, he will never look away; he might be trembling already.

He’s definitely trembling already.

“Will you,” and Steve pauses, plays with Eddie’s bare ring finger, the only one empty just now and Eddie honestly never thought on it too hard but in this moment he knows, he knows in the marrow of him that he was waiting, that he was wanting and he was keeping it safe for just one thing, just one thing:

“Will you let me fill your heart up to stretching,” Steve blinks, and a tear falls; just one, glistening and glorious for the avalanche that’s spilling from Eddie; “and then will you let me fill it up even more, again and again and again, Eddie, will you let me do that for the rest of our lives?”

As if that’s a fucking question.

Eddie doesn’t even have to process the necessity of putting his lips on Steve, of kissing him breathless and then boneless and then weightless, so fucking close and so fucking fierce and giving everything and anything and all that he is and allthat they are; he doesn’t have to process it as a choice before they’re consuming, devouring each other relentless, unceasing, and Eddie will pull back and speak the ‘yes’ that’s already obvious, he will shake a little as Steve puts the ring on the naked finger waiting to be adorned, the last lone space waiting to be claimed; Eddie will wear it proudly on the stage when millions watch him play tomorrow, and there won’t be a single second he’s not smiling like a loon through the whole goddamn day, and it’ll have so very little to do with playing the biggest show of his life, and that’s wild, that’s insane: that is the only real thing in the whole fucking world and—yeah.

Yeah: the biggest prize of living at all is the one they’re holding tight between them, the one they’re passing back and forth, soul to soul between their lips.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff #established relationship #established steddie #marriage proposal #rockstar au #football au #so very very soft #stranger things #gift fic #thefreakandthehair #hitlikehammers v words

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anyalovesu · 3 months ago

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𝓓id you like her in the morning?

— Wherein you came into the realization that your boyfriend, Jungwon is in love with his bestfriend.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

genre : angst ; hurt no comfort ( lol sry TT )

pairings : jungwon x reader ; sunghoon x reader (platonic)

wc : 3k+ words

cw :

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ an oc is mentioned ( ae-cha )

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ college!au

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ jungwon is slightly an ass

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ae-cha's mother is not very nice

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ not proofread ( yet )

song : did you like her in the morning? - niki ( buzz , 2024 )

part 2 : here

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It was too early for fall, and most definitely too early for it to be this cold yet the crisp air burned in your airways as if it’s trying to take you right then and there while you wait for Jungwon in your car. He always told you it was nothing more—they grew up together. Same neighborhood, same school, same university—same everything. Certainly, Ae-cha knew Jungwon more than you did and Jungwon would apologize, but he would agree. They are best friends; been there for each other through thick and thin—long before he met you to begin with.

You know Jungwon will never admit it. Maybe he did love you to some degree because he would rather lie to keep you from hurting than to tell you the truth that he can never love you to the same level as he did for Ae-cha. But here you are anyway, in the parking lot of their University Auditorium waiting for Ae-cha’s pageant to end so Jungwon could come home with you as he promised. Pathetic, to be honest but what could you do? They’re best friends, it shouldn’t be something you should worry about.

It’s not like Ae-cha was a bad person. It would be easier if she was but she wasn’t. Matter of fact, she might be the nicest girl you’ve ever met. She’s well-traveled, well-read, good with kids, loves animals—smart, beautiful—been crowned on every pageant she’s entered, always won prom queen—God. It would be so much easier to hate them both if Ae-cha was a terrible person. But she isn’t. And Jungwon has every reason to look at her and fall in love even by accident. You cannot blame him. You could see why.

“Hi baby,” Jungwon leans on your half open window, hand reaching inside to pinch your cheek like he always does to get your attention. He figured you’ve been so lost in your own thoughts recently that he had to physically distract you nowadays. “Ae-cha just won, she wants you to be in the celebration! She just sent me to ask if that’s okay with you?”

You couldn’t get yourself to look at him. Ae-cha. Again. Dear Lovely Darling Ae-cha, can never have the heart do wrong. You just nodded. It would be unfair to treat her badly when all she’s done was to always make sure you were included despite her and Jungwon being attached to the hip.

“Perfect! I'll go tell her then! Then I'll be back, okay?” He jumped before sprinting back to the auditorium. He's never been like that in any of your competitions. You've been competing in figure skating since you were five.

Some days you wonder how you and Jungwon worked in the first place. Sure you met in the same art history elective class that he was forced to go to because Ae-cha was taking it, but other than that—other than the fact that he thought you were smart and him saying that your brain was beautiful which undoubtedly wooed you over from the start—you guys lived very different lives. Him being in Computer Science and you being in Psychology—you rarely had similar things to talk about about school.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Ae-cha grins, walking over to greet you as soon as you and Jungwon enter the restaurant that they managed to book entirely for the immediate celebration. She was a beauty, her face was flawless in the pageant makeup that was done on her and the way the tall crown sits atop of her head really just adds to her godly aura.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you smile at her politely, giving her a light squeeze when she goes in for a hug. “Congratulations on your win!”

You were happy for Ae-cha. You didn’t have it in you to have ill-feelings for someone’s hard-earned win. You knew what it felt like to work so hard for something, you can’t say you weren’t happy that she won—Jungwon has been tirelessly ranting about her not being able to hang out with you guys as much as before because she has been training non-stop the past months. You knew she worked hard and there couldn’t have been any reason for you to not wish her well.

What you weren’t happy for though, was the way her family looked at you. Sure Ae-cha was an angel—but it didn’t mean that the rest of her family was. It has been made clear from the get go when you were first invited by Ae-cha to her home to celebrate something that her family did not like you. It didn’t matter if Ae-cha considered you as one of her closest friends—or if she saw you as a sister no less—you were Jungwon’s girlfriend and clearly that was a threat to their plans of seeing Ae-cha live their friends-to-lovers trope fantasy with Jungwon. They might have talked to you behind their backs to break up with Jungwon before but you never found it in you to tell Jungwon that it happened. You knew Jungwon, that ensured a confrontation if he found out and the last thing you wanted to happen was to lodge something nasty between his friendship with Ae-cha.

“Come take a seat next to Jungwon!” She happily chimes as she guides you to an empty seat right next to, what you suppose to be Jungwon’s seat next to her.

While you engaged in conversation with her whenever she initiated it, you could not help but seem lethargic the entire dinner. You just wanted to go home and rest. After all, you had a tiresome training session with your coach all afternoon after your morning classes. If Jungwon hadn’t asked you to come pick him up after Ae-cha’s pageant you would have driven home and gone straight into hibernation. You were tired and your head was starting to hurt from your hair being pulled back by the tight bun that your coach required you to have during your training sessions. It didn’t help that Ae-cha’s mother was draining all your social battery whenever she would ask something out-of-pocket that was passive-aggressive towards you.

You were itching to go home to say the least. So, when you saw that the clock finally ticked 9, you tugged on to the sleeve of Jungwon’s sweater to go and ask him if you could go home. He seemed understanding of your situation so he politely excuses the both of you out of the dinner.

“Next time, don’t think about going to a family dinner that you are uninvited to, okay?” You were taken aback by Ae-cha’s mother’s words. So much that you stood there frozen, unknowing of what to reply.

“Eomma!” Ae-cha argues. “I already told you multiple times that me and Y/N are friends and I invited her!”

That was your last straw. Jungwon just stood there, just as shocked—which hurt you even more. How is it that his best friend was able to stand up for you quicker than he could? He always said something whenever he heard something nasty being said about Ae-cha around the university—why couldn’t he have been that fast for when you needed it?

You glanced at Ae-cha before tears could start falling uncontrollably and gave her a nod before storming out. You were embarrassed—most of all, felt pathetic that Jungwon couldn’t even say something. He just stood there!

You were sobbing in your car, trying to control your breathing when the door opened to reveal Jungwon entering your passenger seat.

“I- um… I’m sorry for how that went…”

“Do you sometimes think about whether they're right?” you blurted out, sobs escaping every other word that left your mouth.

“About what baby?”

“That you and Ae-cha are perfect together?”

Jungwon stood still, just staring at you. At that very moment you already knew the answer to your own question. He looked at you with eyes of guilt. You wanted to vomit, your stomach felt like it was churning, bile rose to your throat as you felt the entire world drop on to you.

You don’t understand why you were still so shocked—you saw all the signs. You were not stupid! You knew human behavior inside and out, it would be a shame not to and all the signs lead to where you are right now. So why does it still hurt? Why does it still make your heart squeeze too harshly?

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N.

Not baby anymore.

“Why?”

To be honest, it would be easier for the both of you if you just didn’t ask because even Jungwon didn’t know when it started. One day he woke up feeling more for Ae-cha and suddenly felt less for you. It hurt him too to realize that. You’ve always been so kind. You were the moon, so serene and calm and beautiful in the darkest of his days, but he needed the sun more. And Ae-cha was just that. He didn't intend for you to hurt or to feel any less but it's his fault. He knew that for not figuring it out earlier and for dragging you into this firepit with him. The most he could do is shake his head, disappointed in himself for being clueless on what to do—for how things turned out today.

“I'll pack your things in my apartment. I think it'd be best if you stay with Ae-cha tonight,” you tell him. This is what you guys did whenever you fought, you would ask if he could stay with Ae-cha for the night and talk about it in the morning. Only this time, nothing is going to be talked about in the morning. He's made his feelings clear and it definitely wasn't for you anymore.

“Y/N, please don't do this.”

“I'd rather leave it here than cause more pain to the both of us, Jungwon,” you replied, trying to stop yourself from blowing this out of proportion. “I don't want to loathe the memory of us because we blew this out of proportion trying to fix this.”

“I don’t what you to throw this away, Y/N—”

“Throw away what, Jungwon? You’re in love with Ae-cha. How am I going to throw something that isn’t there anymore?” The eeriness in your voice sent chills down Jungwon’s spine, he just sat there, looking at you, like he has been in the past two occasions. “I’m not throwing anything away, Jungwon.”

“Why don’t you sound angry?” It offended you that he sounded appalled that you weren’t furiously reacting to this. Truth is, while it still stung and while it hurts like hell to be in this position, you’ve grieved on this long before.

“Do you want me to be?”

No. He does not want you to be angry at him. He adores you. He doesn’t want you to loathe him for the rest of your life for doing this to you but at the same time, how? Why are you letting him go so easily?

“I should get going,” you sniffled, running a hand on your face to wipe the tear stains on your face. “Tell Ae-cha I’m sorry for storming off and congratulations for her win. She deserves it more than anyone else.”

He sat in silence before mumbling another quiet apology and then stepping out of your car.

You packed everything of Jungwon’s that you could find as soon as you got to your apartment. He didn’t live there but he stayed over often and left his clothes for you to enjoy for when he can’t stay over. His gaming console, his books, his old headset that you managed to replace with a new one when you guys celebrated your 2nd anniversary, his clothes—everything, and probably most of her entire life were packed away in boxes overnight. But with all those gone, the place still smelled like him so you spend the next four hours manically scrubbing your floors and spraying aerosol home fragrances on every room, desperately trying to get rid of anything that reminded you of him. But the bitterness of losing Jungwon still lingered.

You wish you didn’t let yourself sit in denial and faced it head on the moment you saw the signs. But then again, Jungwon and Ae-cha were best friends. If you were wrong, it would be unfair for both of them. It was unfair for the both of them to accuse them of something that didn’t reflect reality at all—until it did reflect reality and now it’s unfair to you.

The morning came around and you were still sitting in your apartment’s window nook, with no more tears left to cry, trying to get yourself to move until your doorbell rang.

Assuming it was Jungwon, you dreaded walking towards the door, but the sooner his boxes are out, the sooner you will be able to slowly accept that it’s okay that you didn’t turn out to be Ae-cha or at least the person that Jungwon ended up choosing.

You peaked through the peephole, but instead of seeing your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend standing there in front of your door to get his belongings, you see your skating partner’s tall figure standing there looking bored as he usually does. Matter of fact, right now he looked absolutely uninterested, as if he did not want to be there in the first place.

“God, you look…” Sunghoon trailed, holding himself back from saying another one of your usual playful insults when he saw how red your eyes were. “...tired. You look tired.”

“Maybe because I am tired?” You deadpanned, stepping aside to let Sunghoon inside your apartment. “What in the sweet baby cheeses brought your ass here?”

“Well, aside from the fact that it’s competition season, you did not bother to show up to your 7AM training. It’s 9:30 already, Y/N, why the fuck are you not scurrying to get in your training clothes?”

“Guess,” she rolled her eyes before throwing herself back into her window nook.

Sunghoon was visibly annoyed at how you were acting. Figure skating was your life! Sunghoon competed with and against you since you guys were kids, what the hell could possibly tipped you over the edge last night to suddenly lose yourself like this! Oh! And to add on top of that, her home smelled like strong lavender, as if a whole can of lavender air freshener was sprayed on her living room, Sunghoon was itching to sneeze and choking on the strong scented air at the same time. Have you gone insane— “Oh shit.”

It hits him.

The boxes by the foyer, the clean tv rack, your home was spotless for the first time since you began seeing Jungwon 2 years ago. It’s not that your home was untidy, to be honest, Sunghoon found your apartment to be cozy. Bits and pieces of who you and Jungwon were littered around the house, may it be Jungwon’s pokemon figurines lying on the tv rack or your huge heavy Psychology books sitting wherever you left it. Your apartment looks empty now. And by the looks of it, Sunghoon already knew who left.

“Yeah, oh shit,” you sarcastically rolled your eyes before walking to your kitchen. “Do you want anything?”

“Yes, I want something,” Sunghoon leapt to his feet and went to the kitchen, opening her fridge door to grab himself one of your bottled coffees.

“That’s all?”

“And you get your ass to your room and get ready for training. I am not losing my shot at the Olympics this season, Y/N. So get your shit together, please.”

“I can’t go—”

“You can go. What you can’t do is mope around here and wait for your little boyfriend to wrap you around his finger,” he blurted out. “If he’s gonna fall in love with his best friend and leave you like this, so be it. But I will not let you miss a day of practice for your dream just because some boy broke your heart.”

You wanted to argue. but Sunghoon, despite being an arrogant son of a bitch, was right this time. Okay, maybe there’s some personal agenda to his actions but he’s done this for you multiple times, pushing you forward when you could not get yourself to do so.

“Go on,” he tried pushing you towards your bedroom door, but you were insistent.

“I haven’t slept a wink all night, Park Sunghoon—just tell coach I’m sick today, I’ve be there on the dot tomorrow, I promise–”

“Sleep when you’re dead!”

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Days passed after that morning and Jungwon still hasn’t picked up his things. You couldn’t bother to text him, still too hurt to do so, still afraid of seeing him finally being at true peace with Ae-cha. It was something you can never give him.

But just when you thought you made peace with it, the door opens while you are lying on the floor, post-training. Sunghoon has been visiting more often, usually to just steal coffee from your fridge but he did not know your password—only one person did. You shot up the moment you realized who the person and there he was.

He looked so much healthier now. He seemed like he was finally getting some sleep.

“Oh!” He looked surprised to see you there, still in your insulated clothes, hair disheveled from all the spinning you had to do all day and from all the falls from the new tricks that you and Sunghoon were learning. “I thought you'd still be in the rink.”

“Did you not want to see me?” you wanted to slap yourself for not rethinking it before it escaped her mouth. What happens then if he does not want to see you? How is that going to be for you? You were doing so good! You were okay!

“It's… It's not that,” he quickly defends himself. “I've been thinking and after all that, I didn't think I still have a face to show you.”

“How have you been?”

You knew you had to stop. It would be easier if you just closed your mouth and let him take away the boxes that collected dust from sitting in your foyer for a month already. You should just stop and everything will go how you wanted it to be.

“The mornings have been good,” he replied shyly. “I'm really sorry again, Y/N.”

“Was she pleasant in the mornings?”

For the love of god, stop. Please.

Jungwon nodded, guilt forming in his face once again. Which again, you felt like you were being stabbed all over again because you will never be that. Your mornings were always hectic from either college classes or training. Whenever he came over, he usually woke up to an empty bedside.

Maybe she wasn't like that.

Maybe life is finally slow for Jungwon just like he hoped.

And you could never give him that.

“I know you don’t want me to apologize more,” Jungwon sighed.

“Good, then don’t.”

“Y/N…”

“I just want to make my peace with this, Jungwon. I would appreciate it if you just leave—”

“Why wouldn’t you just sit down and talk about this with me?” Jungwon sounded frustrated when he asked that. He could not understand why you were just letting him go. Were your 2 years together mean nothing to you? Why are you letting him get his way? He knows any person would be happy that their ex-girlfriend is acting this way but holy shit, he was not like them. While he loved Ae-cha, he would be eaten alive by the guilt that he broke someone else’s heart in the process of realizing that.

“Because I don’t need you to explain why you fell in love with Ae-cha while you were with me!” You finally raised your voice, staring straight into his eyes. “I am not stupid. Everyone saw it before the both of you did! I feel like I’ve been lodged in between you two’s godforsaken slow burn love story and I feel pathetic. I don’t need you to explain that to me, Jungwon. Ae-cha is beautiful and smart and wonderful in almost every way and I don’t fault you for wanting that because that would be amazing to have!”

“God, you look so relaxed whenever you look at her, Jungwon. You look at her like she made the sun and the stars in the sky—and I get why you never look at me that way. I am nothing like Ae-cha. You are never going to treat me like Ae-cha. You are never going to cheer for me as loud as you do whenever Ae-cha competes. You are never going to show that much enthusiasm for my competitions. I’ve accepted that you weren’t just interested in the things that I did and that’s fine. I tried so fucking hard to be someone that you wouldn’t want to leave but here we are, Jungwon.”

Jungwon stood there, heart shattering while he listened to his ex-girlfriend’s outbursts. He has been a terrible boyfriend. The worst one to ever make her experience such a thing.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you felt that way, Y/N?”

“And if I did tell you what happens then? You’d split your usual time with Ae-cha to be with me? You’d talk back to her parents to defend me? You would fall out of love with the obvious love of your life? We both know that you could not do that Jungwon and I did not want to put you in a position that would hurt us both more than it should because I can’t compete with Ae-cha. I don’t stand a chance to ever be against the woman that she is and how significant she is to your life, so I’m stepping back. It’s easier that way.”

“I’m sorry—”

“You would be forgiven the moment you walk out of my apartment with all of your things and never show your face to me again, Jungwon.”

You were cold. Jungwon could recognize you by your ability to still forgive him—the pain changed you a little too much. But he made his bed, he should sleep in it even if it wasn’t in your apartment anymore.

But to answer your question, whether he liked her in the morning—he did. Even in the nighttimes, when he would crash after an argument and her soft hand would hold his while she explains to him what he’s done wrong. He liked waking up next to her in the morning, something he did not experience often with you because you were always up early for your training and he was up late because he pulled an all-nighter coding his projects. He liked having someone to hold whenever it got hard for him—and you couldn’t be that person, Ae-cha did that for him. Maybe in the process of all of that he realized that Ae-cha always had a place in his heart that he failed to notice even in the lonely nights that she would endure with him. Most of all, he could not fault you too for those lonely nights. You were lonely too and now he’s seeing that he has been the one causing those lonely nights for him.

So, yes.

He did like her in the morning.

Recently, it has been the first thing that he thinks about and after months of trying to repress it,

It has finally caught up to him.

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masterlist

a/n : okay ik i said i was interested in writing a mafia/mob!au but it took me long enough to realize that i actually have to do some research on how mafias/mobs work , so it's taking me longer than i should be but if you made it this far , thank you so much for being patient with me . ik i kinda ghosted y'all after i finished we're not saints at all hehe i've been so busy with my internship papers recently so i haven't really found the time to research or write . but yeah , niki released buzz and did you like her in the morning completely devasted the living shit out of me so here is the aftermath lol

( leave me a note or send your feedback here, i would appreciate it so much <33 )

thank u !

xo, anya ୨୧

#୨୧ anya's works #jungwon x reader #jungwon angst #jungwon x figureskater!reader #sunghoon x platonic!reader #college!enha #college!reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen one shots #jungwon imagines #jungwon one shots #jungwon scenarios #enhypen x female reader #enhypen au #jungwon au #enhypen hurt no comfort

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strwyofthesun · 1 year ago

Text

forgive me, goodbye

pairing: re2r!leon x f!reader

word count: 3k

synopsis: you and leon have been high school sweethearts and graduated together in 1990. but after graduating from military school and pre-med, trouble arises once leon becomes busy with being a police officer, while you start preparing to leave to the UK for med school.

cont: slight fluff, angst, high school sweethearts, college au, hurt/no comfort

a/n: for my filo readers, this is very loosely (like you have to squint to even realize it) based on raining in manila by lola amour because ive had lss and i can't stop listening to it!

part 2 here !

“—So, as we all bid farewell to this chapter of our lives, I want all of us to look back on what made us who were are now and look forward to the people we will become. Congratulations Class of 1990! We made it!” You exclaimed loudly into the mic. Everyone cheered and hugged one another in celebration of graduating from high school.

The principal smiled widely at you before you handed him the mic for his closing message to everyone. “Thank you to this year’s valedictorian for her heartfelt graduation speech. My dear students, I am so proud of all you. Congratulations!” Cheers and shouts once more echoed in the auditorium. You walk back into the crowd of students, looking for a certain someone. Amidst the bustling crowd, you spot him in his toga with medals around his neck, certificates and diplomas being held up on the right and a bouquet of roses in his left. You hurriedly ran towards his direction and stop right infront of him.

“There’s my valedictorian, I’m so proud of you love.” Leon said as he handed me the bouquet and planted a kiss on my forehead.

“Aww, Leon you didn’t have to…”

“Pft, I want nothing but the best for my girl. You deserve it [Y/N].”

“I love you so much Leon, I don’t think I would’ve survived high school without you.”

“I love you too [Y/N]. You’ll be fine with or without me. But of course you’re better off with me.” Leon said as he winked at me.

He was always such a tease. Ever since 7th to 12th grade, you couldn't believe that out of all the traits that he could keep, it had to be that one. But, it was okay, after all, all that teasing did lead you to fall for him and it was the best thing to have ever come out of your high school experience. People always said you had your head stuck in a book 24/7 and that you had no chance at love if all you ever look at was texts on a book. But now, they’re eating their words, because not only are you in the happiest and healthiest relationship with the school’s heartthrob, but your relationship with Leon outlasted almost all of your batchmates’s relationships combined. Not only that, but you also graduated valedictorian of your batch and was always a consisted honor student while dating Leon.

You had to admit that you and Leon were a walking cliché. Top student falls for the school’s heartthrob, where haven’t you seen that? But God, even if it was a cliché it was the best thing to have ever happened to you. It wasn’t always smooth sailing though. In 7th grade, Leon was always a pain in the ass to you, and it didn’t help that you were always paired up in almost every pair or group activity and project given. He wasn’t always so cooperative, he teased and picked at you, and he was always pre-occupied with either his friends or football. Yes, he was a jock, an irritatingly good-looking one at that.

He never really noticed your efforts when it came to those pair and group assignments the both of you had until one day, in chemistry class, you had held your head down, planning to rest for a little while. Little did you know that you would be waking up in the hospital. The doctor said that you had overworked your body so much to the point where your immune system had weakened drastically. Leon heard this and visited you the following day in the hospital. Your parents were aware of Leon being a big weight on you because you’d always rant to them about him so it was no surprise that when Leon entered your hospital room, he wasn’t exactly greeted warmly by your parents. Even so, they left you and him to talk privately.

“Hey [Y/N]…” Leon said as he looked at the floor. “Um, I brought you some flowers, roses, to um, brighten up your room.” He said awkwardly

You looked at him up and down with a sour look on your face before thanking him. “Thanks… Leon…” He sighed and sat at the foot of your bed.

“Look, I’m sorry… I should’ve helped you out. If I known this would’ve happen-“

“Well, it’s a bit too late for that don’t you think?” I spat back as I cut Leon off.

“I know, I know… So, to make up for it, I’ve told the teacher about me not cooperating and they have decided not to affect your grade because of my shortcomings. I’ve also come here to ask you what other assignments we have so that I can do it while you’re here. I promise I will prepare a good quality output, I’ll send it to you for checking so that you won’t have to worry.”

You were surprised at Leon’s sudden change of heart and were touched by his dedication to make things right for you. You face softened and you breathed out a small sigh.

“Thank you Leon, I’ll send you a list of what needs to be done later on. Thank you for visiting too…” You smile timidly.

“Please, don’t thank me, it’s the least I could do after everything I’ve caused.”

“Come on Leon, accept my thanks, it’s not all the time I get to say that to you.” I joked.

“Alright, alright. Fine, I accept the thanks and you are welcome. I’ll leave you be now. Rest up, recover quick okay?”

“Okay.”

Leon gave you a smile before turning around to leave, but before he left the hospital, he talked to your parents and apologized for the trouble. He even offered to pay the medical expenses to which my parents declined. They said that if you forgave him, then they forgave him too.

On school days while you were at the hospital, Leon would always text you at lunch about what happened during the morning classes and at the end of the day, he’d text you again to tell you what happened during the afternoon classes. He gave you notes, the assignments, recorded lectures, and even stuck to his word about sending you the group works. He really did seemed like a changed man.

8th grade came around and Leon had confessed his feelings for you, to which you reciprocated. And from then on, the two of you have been dating ever since. And something you love about Leon was that he knew that you were a strong, capable, and independent person. He never interfered with your plans and always emphasized that he wanted you to always prioritize yourself over everyone else including himself. Leon supported you in all your endeavours, the competitions, the events, everything. He was and always is your number one fan and you will always be his. Every game he had, you were present. You stood in the front bleachers with the largest banner out there and screamed your head off every time he scored a point. You were everyone’s typical movie high school couple.

“So Leon, what’s your plans for college?” You asked curiously. He never really talked about what he wanted for his future but since we were now high school graduates, it was high time to start thinking about our future plans.

“Oh, actually, I enrolled into a military academy in Raccoon City!” He said excitedly.

“Looks like someone’s excited.” You chuckle.

“Well, yeah! I mean I’ve always wanted to help people out and I think this is a good place to start.”

“I’m so glad you’re doing something you’re passionate about, love.”

“I’m assuming you’ll be pursuing your pre-med course in the city as well?”

“Mhm, that’s right. I can’t believe how fast time flies. We used to be dumb kids arguing over assignments and look at us now.”

Leon looked at you and grabbed you by the waist to pull you into a hug. “I didn’t expect myself to fall for a brainy genius like yourself.”

“And I didn’t expect myself to fall for a sweetheart of a jock but here we are.” you said as the both of you laughed together.

Summer went by and you and Leon had moved to Raccoon City to pursue each other’s passions. The 4 years passed the two of you quickly and you were soon attending each other’s graduation. Seeing Leon in his uniform standing proud and tall made you feel all sorts of things. You can’t believe how far he’s come. Saying you were proud of him was an understatement. At your graduation, you spotted Leon from the stage along with your parents holding up a camera and recording you. He was the absolute cutest boyfriend out there. He treated you and your parents out at an expensive restaurant in the city to celebrate. While at the dinner table, your phone starts ringing. You check to see who was calling you and saw that it was one of your professors from your university. You excused yourself from the table and picked up the incoming call.

“Good evening Ms. [L/N]”

“Good evening madam, is there something you would like to discuss with me?”

“As a matter of fact, there is. If you remember, I helped you apply for a prestigious medical school in the UK yes?”

“Yes, I recall.”

“I come bearing good news! You have been accepted on a full scholarship! I am so proud of you Ms. [L/N].”

You covered your mouth from shock and turned back to look at your parents and Leon who seemed very curious about the call.

“Thank you so much madam for helping me with this opportunity. I will get back to you with my answer in a few days.”

“No problem, take your time. But if I were you, I would grab the opportunity already.”

“I have to consult my parents first madam but I appreciate the incentive.”

“Alright, please do inform me later on your decision. Goodbye and congrats!”

Your professor dropped the call and you go back to the table with Leon and your parents and let them know the good news.

“Oh my God! I’m so proud of you [Y/N]! We’ll pack your stuff right away once we get home!” Your mom said eagerly.

“I’ll help you pack too!” Your dad chimed in.

You laugh at the reactions of you parents but realized that Leon had been rather silent.

“Leon?” you said as you held his hand under the table.

“Hmm? Oh! I’m so proud of you too, love. I can’t believe you’ll be studying in another country…” Leon said as his voice slowly faded. You squeezed his hand and looked at him with a face of concern. Before he could speak again, the waiter had given Leon the bill which he paid for and later your parents left earlier than you leaving Leon and you behind.

“Love, is there something bothering you?”

“I’m… I’m gonna miss you a lot [Y/N]… But, I don’t want to hold you back, you know that.”

“Oh Leon…” You pulled him into an embrace and said, “I’ll miss you too Leon. But I’m not leaving yet, so let’s make most of my time here okay?”

“Okay… I love you [Y/N]…”

“I love you too Leon…”

In a few days, you started getting ready to make your big move to the UK. Meanwhile, Leon had begun working as a police officer in the Raccoon City Police Department. He was always preoccupied with his job and you were busy with all the files you needed to tend to and the preparations you had to ready for med school and all the other likes. As the days progressed, the stress started to feel overwhelming and it did not help that Leon was not as available as much as he used to be. You respected his time and if he wouldn’t want to hold you back, you wouldn’t hold him back either. So you kept to yourself. All the stress, the worry, the nagging thoughts of moving to a new country alone, the pressure put on you by your professor was immense, all of it was driving you borderline insane. Juggling everything on your own felt so tiring but you never once thought of asking Leon or anyone for that matter for help because you did not want to bother them and because you wanted this for yourself. You had no one but yourself to blame. But the opportunity is right there, and you couldn't risk it slipping through your fingers.

It was a week ‘till your departure and Leon had finally decided to visit you after his long shifts at the RPD.

“Hi love, are you ready for the big trip?” He asked while trying to put on a smile on his face but it was evident that he was too tired to even put an effort.

“I don’t know Leon…” you responded.

“What’s the matter?” he asked sounding concerned.

You snapped at Leon and sarcastically replied, "Oh, thanks for finally asking.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you think Leon? You haven’t even bothered to check up on me all those days ago?”

“Well I’m sorry if I got too busy with work!”

“Too busy? Would it have killed you to send me at least one text asking how I was?!”

“I didn’t want to disturb you! I knew that you could handle it on your own.”

“But Leon I needed you! Where were you when I needed you?! I was practically going insane already!"

A deafening silence fell upon the room and no one dared to look at each other in the eye. You broke the silence and spoke up once more.

“Look Leon, if this is the current state of our relationship now, I fear that this won’t last once I’m further away.”

“[Y/N]… Are you…?”

“I’m breaking up with you Leon.” You never imagined those words ever coming out of your mouth but there it was, seemingly echoing in all four corners of the room making it all the more painful that it already was.

“You can’t be serious [Y/N]…”

“I am serious Leon. I can’t do this anymore…”

“Fine.” Leon said as he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

You watch him leave as tears start to run down your face. It hurt that you had to do what you did, but seeing how he didn’t even fight for the relationship broke you even more. At the back of your head, you were relieved because now, he wouldn’t have to face the days where he would need you but you were not there for him. He wouldn’t have to constantly worry about you and your well-being. He wouldn’t have to miss you so much that it made his heart ache that he could not see you. You have spent 10 years with each other and were now so used to each other presence. Being away from him pained you as much as it pained him, and nothing could have eased that.

It's 2 hours ‘till departure, you’re at the airport simply passing the time while your parents kept you company. 1 hour left, you start to remember all the memories you’ve made in the city and can't help but shed a tear because all you could ever think off was Leon. 30 minutes, your parents comfort you and held you in their arms as you cried and wallowed in your sadness. 20 minutes, you compose yourself as your flight is near. 10 minutes, bid your farewell to your parents and start walking to the gates until you heard a voice call your name.

You turned around to look for where the voice came from, “Leon?” You mutter as you frantically search amongst the people looking for him. You spotted Leon dashing towards you and threw his arms around you as a desperate attempt to keep you for leaving just yet.

“[Y/N] please, just wait…” he panted.

“Leon, I need to board the plane, I have to go-“

“Please… think about it, think about us. I know long distance is hard but it’s something we can get through together! I know we can! So please! Don’t just leave me like this…” Leon begged as he pulled away to face you. His eyes were swollen and red, you could tell he had been crying for days straight.

“You know it’s not just about us… You have your whole future ahead of you, and I have mine. Don’t let me stop you from that.”

“But I don’t see my future without you in it. Please let me be selfish for once let me ask you for us to try again.”

“You know I can’t do that Leon…”

Leon looked at you with glass eyes and let you go. “I’ll be waiting for you [Y/N]… However long it takes."

“Leon… Don't...” You cupped his cheek and caresses it gently wiping away his tears.

“Forgive me, goodbye.” You let go of Leon and kissed him one last time before turning your back on him and walking straight to the gates. You hear Leon’s sobs and it took everything in you not to look back, when all you wanted to do was run into his arms and say “I do want you back, I’m sorry for trying to leave you.” But you couldn’t. You knew deep down that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw everything away for Leon. And you knew that he knew it too.

As the plane took off, you look out of the window and silently said goodbye to the life you once had and said hello to the new life you will live.

#leon #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon angst #leon kennedy angst #leon scott kennedy angst #leon x reader #leon x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil #resident evil angst

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townpostin · 3 months ago

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JUSCO School Kadma Celebrates Annual Day with 'Navarasa' Theme

Students showcase talents through dance and music, honoring nine emotions JUSCO School Kadma’s Annual Day event featured performances and awards, highlighting student achievements and staff dedication. JAMSHEDPUR – JUSCO School Kadma celebrated the artistic expression and student accomplishments of Classes VI to XII at the Kudy Mahanty Auditorium during its Annual Day. The event, which was themed…

#academic achievement awards #शिक्षा #education #holistic education Jamshedpur #Jamshedpur education excellence #Jamshedpur school celebrations #JEM Foundation #JUSCO School Kadma Annual Day #JUSCO School performances #Kudy Mahanty Auditorium event #Navarasa theme school event #student talent showcase

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pickles-24 · 8 months ago

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All Eyes on You (Felix)

2- Who are you?

Author's note: This is my first fic In a while please be patient. ( Daisy Lyn is the Musian name - this is not real-)

PAIRING: College Felix!! x Musician fem reader!!

GENRES: social media au, smut, fluff, angst, mystery, drama, enemies to lovers, college au, celebrity au, non-idol au

WARNINGS: cursing, slow-burn, alcohol/drug consumption, addiction, sexual jokes/ sexual content, toxic relationships, mental health disorders, trauma, mentions of abuse, offense jokes (NOT RACIST NOR ANYTHING LIKE THAT), Felix and MC have a small age gap (He's older by 2 1/2 years) THIS IS NOT IN ANY WAY LINKED TO THE REAL DEALS!

SUMMARY: You're an up-and-coming musician with a decent platform. You and a Friend of Felix's get close eventually leading you to meet Him. Liking each other at first, wasn't in the cards due to several misunderstandings. Throughout the year You start gaining attention from more than just your fans. All eyes are on you.

"I.N?" You ask confused about how Jeongin turned to I.N. He nodded," Yeah, The last two letters of my first name." I.N made more sense now that he'd explained it. "That's a good nickname not gonna lie." You said as you looked at your phone. The time read 9:25, five more minutes until the orientation started. "So Y/N what's your major?" You turn back to him as you answer his question, "I'm majoring in music, but minoring in business."

"Oh that's cool, I'm actually also minoring in business, I'm majoring in Econ. "I.N. commented as he showed you his classes for the semester. He shared five classes with you. You were so relieved, "We share five classes." You said showing him your courses for the first semester. "Oh thank god, my friends and I have different majors and I was so worried," I.N. said giving you a smile. "Can we exchange numbers since we'll be seeing each other every day? If you're ok with it."

You nodded as you handed him your phone and vice versa. The audio crackled as the mic turned on. The orientation was about to start.

You look at your friends who aren’t paying any attention to the orientation and are on their phones. You were at least half listening to what was being said. You sent them a quick text to see if they were on board with the plans.

Time passed and eventually, after what seemed to be forever the orientation ended, "See y'all in a bit." I.N. waved as he left the auditorium where the orientation had just taken place. Shortly after You followed as you made your way back to the car with Soojin and Minnie. "I wanna join a sorority," Soojin said as this time she hoped in the front and Minnie took her place in the back. You gave her a strange look," And why exactly would you want to do that?"

You turned on the car and connected your phone to play some music. Minnie also confused as to why Soojin wanted to join a sorority turned to her, "Do you even know what that is?" Soojin shook her head and answered her girlfriend, "No but I do know that If I take one for the team and join we are partying always." She by Harry styles played in the background as you sigh.

Soojin wasn't necessarily a party girl or at least she wasn't like that in high school. You hoped that with her wanting to join one of the school's sororities she wouldn't regret it. As you turned to exit the campus parking lot a car came speeding by and almost caused an accident. You honked at it and the person driving flipped you off. "What a fucking cunt." You swore taking a deep breath and making your way down to the arcade.

Upon arrival, you notice the same car parked horribly, you roll your eyes as you try to find another parking spot. "You guys can go in and tell I.N I'll be right there." Your friends nod as you drop them off and look for another parking spot that wasn't right next to the ass hat that took 2 parking spots. About a minute later you found one and parked. You made your way into the arcade where spotted I.N., your friends, and some other people.

"Hey," You say approaching him, "Sorry the asshole in the blue Camero took 2 spots." You said not knowing that the owner of the car was behind you. " And who are you?" The voice said not sounding very pleased he was called an asshole. You turned around and said, "I'm Y/N, who are you?" He scoffed taking his car keys out, "I'm Felix, The asshole in the blue Camero"

taglist: @seungseung-minmin

#stray kids #k pop #music #skz #skz stay #lee felix #lee yongbok #felix x reader #skz felix #stray kids fanfic #kpop #college au #enemies to lovers #skz imagines #skz x reader #kpop bg

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octuscle · 1 year ago

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I went to my high school reunion and was reminded of how so many of these guys were the big cocky jocks. I wish I could go back and be a huge cocky teenage jock like they were.

It's 11:00 a.m. and the principle of your former high school is giving an incredibly boring speech on the occasion of the farewell ceremony for the current graduating class. And to the alumni who are celebrating the tenth anniversary of their graduation this year. So here's to you and your former classmates.

You let your gaze wander through the auditorium. Some of your classmates are still as hot as they were ten years ago. Others have let themselves go a little. Unfortunately, you are one of them. Yes, your expensive suit hides a lot. But you can't deny that you are even fatter and untrained than you were ten years ago.

Fuck, now this year's seniors are coming on stage to collect their diplomas. Did they spend all of high school in the gym. Your cock produces precum in greater quantity as you watch the studs pass by on stage. What would you give to get your diploma again.

After an hour, the ceremony is over. There is a reception for the graduates and the jubilarians. Actually, you shouldn't be here. It's only been nine years since you graduated. But there must have been a mistake with the invitations. And hey, some of the guys who had left high school a year before you were really hot, with some of them you had a flirt or a one night stand or two. Fortunately, no one asks you why you are here today. Basically, every alumni is allowed to come to the ceremony. And at least you receive a few compliments. Hehehe, the last year at the gym seems to be paying off. But it's about time, you weren't exactly sporty for long enough.

After an hour it starts to get boring. You haven't been to your hometown for ages. You drive to the mall and stroll through the shops. You were actually unsure whether you should go to the prom tonight. But somehow you would like to. Finally an occasion to buy a dinner jacket. Most of the shops look too expensive for you. Or nothing fits you. But it's 4 p.m. when you stand in front of the mirror of a plus-size men's clothing store. You've been lifting iron for five years. Every free minute. And it shows. And that makes buying suits really difficult. But you look fantastic in that dinner jacket. And luckily it's reasonably cheap. You're just out of college, so your money's not that loose yet. But now just one more coffee and then back home. You promised your parents to have dinner with them before you go to the ball.

Your parents are happy when you ring the doorbell at 6 pm. After the summer, you start your senior year at college. Your mother is already complaining that she won't see you again. And why you still don't have a boyfriend. And whether you would like to adopt children. After all, they want to have grandchildren. You smile and praise her cooking.

Around 20:00, dinner is over. Your father retires to the television with a cigar. Your mother tidies up the kitchen. And you go into the garage to the gym of your father and yourself. Before you go out today, you want to pump up your muscles. Some of your mates want to go to your high school prom later. You are glad that you finally closed this chapter a year ago. For the right training effect, you give yourself another shot. Since you started using anabolic steroids. you've become a beast.

22:00 hrs. Good workout. The guys will pick you up in half an hour. You could take a quick shower. But what for? First of all, you love the smell of fresh sweat after training. And secondly, you'll just be hanging out in the car park in front of the gym anyway, maybe blowing each other. And every once in a while, one of the high school seniors will surely come from the prom, smoke a cigarette with you, and maybe get a blowjob. Or give you a blowjob. Your cock is legendary with the juniors. You're really going to miss some of the seniors next year. But then you'll be a senior in high school and it'll be the year of your life.

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #age reduction #male transformation #muscle transformation #hairy pits

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shitsndgiggs · 3 months ago

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Hiiii!! Can you write one with Barış where him and reader have been together since childhood basically and showing how they’ve always been supportive of one another. Like she’s been to almost all his games and he’s there when she graduates and they are just madly in love with each other and everyone sees it too

LOVE THROUGHOUT THE YEARS - BARIŞ ALPER YILMAZ

Your relationship with Barış throughout the years

Barış Alper Yılmaz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

We were just kids when we first met, barely old enough to understand what love was, let alone what it would grow into.

Barış was the boy next door, always with a soccer ball at his feet and a cheeky grin on his face.

We spent our days running around the neighborhood, getting into all sorts of adventures.

Even back then, there was something special between us, a connection that everyone around us noticed.

As we grew older, that connection only deepened. We went to the same schools, shared the same group of friends, and were practically inseparable.

When Barış joined the local soccer team, I was there at every practice, sitting on the sidelines with a book in hand, but always looking up to watch him play.

His passion for the game was infectious, and I loved seeing the joy it brought him.

By the time we were teenagers, our bond had evolved into something more than friendship. It happened so naturally, neither of us could pinpoint exactly when it shifted.

But one day, we were holding hands, walking home from school, and it just felt right.

Barış started playing in bigger tournaments, and I was always there in the stands, cheering him on.

No matter how far the game was or how cold the weather, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I remember the day his team made it to the regional finals.

The stadium was packed, and I could barely see over the heads of the other spectators, but when Barış scored the winning goal, he immediately turned to the crowd, searching for me.

When our eyes met, he pointed at me, his face lighting up with a smile that made my heart swell with pride.

“You’re my lucky charm,” he said, hugging me tightly after the match.

“And you’re my hero,” I replied, knowing there was nowhere else I’d rather be than by his side.

As we navigated high school, our relationship only grew stronger. We supported each other through everything—exams, family struggles, and the pressure of figuring out our futures.

When I decided to pursue my studies in literature, Barış was my biggest cheerleader, just as I was for him on the field.

Graduation day was one of the happiest days of my life, not just because of the milestone it represented, but because Barış was there, waiting for me outside the auditorium with a bouquet of flowers in hand. He had a game that evening, but he wouldn’t miss this for anything.

“You did it, aşkım,” he said, his voice full of pride as he handed me the flowers. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” I replied, feeling the weight of his words in my heart.

We had been through so much together, and it felt like we could conquer anything as long as we had each other.

That night, after his game, we sat under the stars, talking about our dreams and what the future might hold. There was never any doubt in my mind that whatever happened, we would face it together.

As we moved into adulthood, Barış’s soccer career took off. He started playing professionally, and with that came more travel and time apart.

But no matter how far away he was, we always found a way to stay connected. I traveled to his games whenever I could, and when I couldn’t, I watched them on TV, cheering him on from wherever I was.

Barış was there for me too. When I got my first job as a literary editor, he was the one who celebrated with me, popping a bottle of champagne in our tiny apartment.

And when I published my first book, he was front and center at the launch, telling everyone within earshot that his girlfriend was a published author.

Our friends and family often joked about how “madly in love” we were, but it was true. We had been through so much together, and our love had only grown stronger over the years.

We were each other’s biggest supporters, and everyone around us could see it.

Now, as we stand on the brink of a new chapter in our lives, I can’t help but reflect on how far we’ve come. We’ve grown up together, faced countless challenges, and celebrated each other’s victories.

Barış has become a star on the soccer field, and I’ve carved out a career as a writer, but through it all, our love has remained the constant.

And as we look toward the future, I know that whatever comes our way, we’ll face it together.

Because that’s what we’ve always done, from the time we were kids with scraped knees and big dreams, to now, as adults still madly in love, ready to take on the world hand in hand.

In the end, it’s not just about the games won or the books published. It’s about the moments we’ve shared, the laughter, the tears, and the unwavering support we’ve given each other.

Barış is my best friend, my biggest fan, and the love of my life, and I know that as long as we have each other, we can face anything the world throws our way.

#football imagine #football x reader #turkiye #baris alper yilmaz x reader #baris alper yilmaz

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handeaux · 5 months ago

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Your Great-Grandparents Huffed Laughing Gas, And People Paid To See Them Trip

For the height of entertainment, early Cincinnatians enjoyed dropping by one of the local museums to watch their fellow citizens get stoned. The intoxicating agent was not cannabis or opium or shrooms, although all were readily available, but nitrous oxide or “laughing gas.”

The Western Museum started the trend. Founded in 1818 as one of the earliest scientific museums in the United States, the Western Museum is the ancestor of our Museum Center at Union Terminal. Regardless of its heritage, the institution struggled throughout its existence. Although stocked with fossils, minerals, Native American artifacts and animal specimens, the most popular attractions were grotesque wax figures and monstrosities like two-headed piglets and eight-legged lambs.

The museum directors, Robert Best and Joseph Dorfeuille, soon learned that lectures on scientific topics sold more tickets if they tacked a laughing gas demonstration onto the end of the program. An advertisement in the Liberty Hall and Cincinnati Gazette [30 November 1822] is typical:

“Messrs. Best and Dorfeuille will lecture on various departments of Natural History, and Natural Science, the latter to be illustrated by a great variety of amusing and instructing experiments; among others, they will frequently repeat the administration of the Nitrous Oxide, which has always proved in so high a degree interesting.”

By 1834, the Western Museum had replaced laughing gas with a waxworks replica of Dante’s Inferno, and found a young man to spice up the infernal regions with flashpots and fireworks. His name was Samuel Colt, and he would later build a huge firearms company. While he lived in Cincinnati, however, Colt was a 20-year-old hustler fascinated by laughing gas. He billed himself as “the Celebrated Dr. Coult of New York, London and Calcutta,” and pumped nitrous oxide into anyone who paid for a ticket. His on-stage antics here made news far away. The Albany, New York, Argus [30 July 1833] reported:

“A certain Dr. Coult is administering the nitrous oxyde gas at Cincinnati, and by way of making the entertainment ‘peculiarly attractive,’ the gas is inhaled by a ‘curiously deformed black man.’”

The Daily Cincinnati Republican & Commercial Register [6 November 1834] assured readers that Dr. Coult’s exhibitions at Frederick Frank’s art gallery on Front Street contained “not the least shade of impropriety,” and insisted – no matter how entertaining the effects – this was all about science:

“Dr. Coult’s exhibition presents some of the most pleasing and laughable scenes one can well imagine. – Although the peculiar effects of Nitrous Oxide keeps the audience in a state of almost continual merriment, yet there is a great chance for the learned and curious to exhaust all their wits in sober contemplation of the effects of Nitrous Oxide upon the human system.”

Although nitrous oxide had been known and described by English scientists in the 1700s, the gas remained a psychotropic curiosity until its anesthetic properties were discovered in the 1840s. Its potential as an pain reliever was discovered during an on-stage performance by a medical school dropout named Gardner Quincy Colton. Although Colton later built a dental empire by promoting laughing gas for tooth extractions, he stuck with his profitable stage shows for years. In October 1847, Colton filled the auditorium of Cincinnati’s Melodeon Hall over several nights and the Cincinnati Commercial [2 October 1847] reported on the effects of his laughing gas on some selected subjects.

“The effects were different upon different individuals. “A. after the gas bag was removed from his lips, he stood for a moment, staggered about the stage, and finally fell to the floor. “B. commenced dancing a regular hoe-down with arms and legs in the most violent motion, leaping with all his might into the air, and exhibiting the most tremendous strength. This he continued until the excitement wore off. “C., a young merchant on Liberty street, of slight build, at some imaginary insult became enraged and commenced a furious battle upon those on the stage. Small as he was, it took five or six stout men to hold him until the effects of the gas passed away.”

Another subject was rendered “wonderfully polite and self-complacent” and wandered about the stage, rubbing his hands and bowing to the audience, while the next man up erupted in “silly laughter” while staring dumbly at the assembled onlookers. One young lawyer inhaled deeply, then stood in the most erect posture and recited a poem by William Cullen Bryant. According to the Commercial:

“The effects of the Gas lasted from two to five minutes, and seemed to pass off suddenly, dropping the taker of it down from the highest heaven to earth in an instant. We do not know why this gas should be called laughing gas. Most of the persons who took it on Tuesday evening were most solemnly serious. The whole performance passed off remarkably well, nothing occurring of the least unpleasant nature.”

Twenty years later, Doctor Colton was quite successful with his dental franchises, but still presented public demonstrations. On his 1866 tour through the Queen City, Colton not only recruited women as his subjects, but used them to promote his dental practice. An advertisement in the Cincinnati Gazette [17 April 1866] provides a rather shocking description of his show:

“On the above occasion, after the lecture, twelve ladies will inhale the gas, showing its amusing effects. Breathed in small doses, it exhilarates and develops the character. After which Dr. C. will administer it to several ladies in larger doses, producing profound anesthetic sleep during which he will extract their teeth without their knowledge. He will demonstrate that he has ‘a blessing’ to offer to the citizens of Cincinnati.”

Inevitably, once society latches onto some new exhilarant, reports emerge that insanity lurks within the depths of recreational chemistry. Call it the “Reefer Madness” effect. A Mrs. John Boyer of Cumminsville was sent to Cincinnati’s Longview Hospital for the insane in 1871 after weeks of increasingly erratic behavior were attributed to getting a tooth pulled by a Sixth-Street dentist using laughing gas. In 1867, the death of a Mrs. Bolum on Accommodation Street was found, on the result of autopsy, to have been caused by a strangulated hernia, but her family insisted it was dental nitrous oxide. And the Cincinnati Star [30 September 1876] carried this squib:

“There’s a young woman living in Glendale who, her relatives say, has become mildly insane by the use of laughing gas.”

Wasn’t that the whole point of huffing it anyway?

#laughing gas #nitrous oxide #western museum #Samuel Colt #Gardner Quincy Colton

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