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skzdarlings · 9 months ago

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birthday girl ; skz ; seungmin x reader

requested by anonymous: “You keep your hands where they are or I’ll tie them up” with Seungmin + requested by anonymous: ❛ i'm sorry, what was that? i can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making. ❜ is SO seungmin I can’t 😭 + requested by @sealovesbts : ❛ is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them? ❜ x Seungmin djjdjjdjd 🫣

pairing: kim seungmin/reader content info: friends to lovers. boy next door!seungmin, stripper!seungmin. reader is kinda vanilla but gets a couple kinks unlocked: stripping, some power play, seungmin giving orders and her following it, having sex in privacy but a public venue overall. word count: 4100 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

You open the door and jump, startled to find Seungmin already standing there with his hand raised to knock. He also looks surprised but he doesn’t shriek like you do. You were already jittery before the jump-scare.

“Seungmin! Sorry!” You put a hand over your heart. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I can see that.” He speaks in his usual dry tone but smiles a lopsided smile.

Kim Seungmin lives in your neighbourhood. You have been amicable a long time so you like to consider him a friend as well. He is an admittedly private person and his personality can be brash, but you find charm in his quirky cheekiness. He is reliable whenever you need a hand.

He is dressed in a hoodie and jeans which is not unusual; he is not very flashy. His bangs sweep his forehead and he smiles a wide, boxy smile as he hands you a gift bag.

“Happy birthday, neighbour,” he says.

“Oh my goodness,” you say, flustered. “Seungmin! You didn’t have to!”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m the greatest,” he quips. While you open the present, he asks, “I guess you’re going out? You’re all dressed up.”

“Oh, um, yes.” You feel shy as he looks at you.

“You look good,” he says.

It makes you even more flustered. You are dressed a little sleeker and sexier than usual. Your sister has arranged your birthday party but you do not know where, only that she said to dress for fun. You are not great with surprises and your sister is a little wild, hence your nerves, but you have decided to leave your comfort zone for one night.

You were not expecting to run into your neighbour, friend, and crush.

Because, yes, you like Seungmin. A lot. Seungmin is very modest, low-key, and hard-working. You know he is at law school and works a few jobs to pay for it. You are not sure where, but he is intelligent and you can imagine him doing anything. His snark is amusing but his dependability and steadfastness is a sexy combination. Your sister has never met him but has often teased you for your so-called boring infatuation, but you disregard the thought. You like Seungmin, shaggy bangs and law school textbooks and all.

A flirtation has been subtly brewing over the last few months. You think the unexpected birthday gift is a step in that direction. Especially when you unwrap a recipe book you off-handedly mentioned a few weeks ago, touched he remembered it at all.

“Oh, thank you, Seungmin,” you say, gushing and sweet. You go to hug him but falter nervously and end up giggling.

He brushes some hair out of his eyes. They seem to sparkle with mirth, or maybe you are just ridiculously head-over-heels.

“You’re kinda goofy, you know that?” he says, but smiles. “I like it.”

“Oh gosh,” you say.

It makes him laugh. Then he says, “I’ll let you get to your party.”

“Oh, it’s just my sister and some girl friends,” you say. “I don’t even know where we’re going. Probably just some food and stuff. You know me. I’m very simple.”

“I do,” he says. “I’d like to know you better, though. Maybe you can make me one of those recipes some time. I like the one on page fifteen.”

You burst out laughing at his audacity, making him laugh too. His teasing successively obliterates your nerves.

“I will,” you say, smiling so big. “Page fifteen. Noted.”

“It’s a date,” he says. “I’ll let you go now. Enjoy your birthday dinner.”

“You too,” you say, then realize that response made no sense so you stutter through a retraction. You stop when he leans in and kisses your cheek, a quick peck that makes your eyes go wide.

“Goofball,” he says and bops your nose while smiling. “See you around, neighbour.”

“Bye, neighbour,” you say, giggling helplessly.

He smiles as he walks away, hands in his pockets, and you are still hugging your book and smiling.

The conversation with Seungmin is your last wholesome birthday moment. You meet your sister and friends only to get whisked off to a placeof complete and utter depravity.

Otherwise known as a club full of male strippers.

You are sitting at a little table, astounded at the room around you. You hold no judgements whatsoever, but between the flashing lights and loud music and, um, prominent bare chests and even more prominent bulges, you are sufficiently overawed.

You cannot help but gawk, mouth open as you look around at everything. It makes your sister and friends laugh. It is not mean but they are undoubtedly amused. Your shy character is the opposite of… this.

“You guys are crazy,” you say, only making them erupt into more giggles.

“You like logic and traditions so consider it a rite of passage, baby sister,” your sister says, slinging her arm around your shoulder and squeezing. “Or, hm, an act of feminism! It’s about equality. We need to objectify and ogle the sexy men on behalf of womankind.”

“How noble of us,” you say dryly, setting off another round of giggles. You shake your head, smiling with amusement too. You are a little embarrassed but it is quite funny, and there is a part of you enjoying something so opposite of your usual quiet scenes.

Amusing is the best word for it, though. None of the men are remotely your type and the relentless hip-thrusting is a bit much. You find yourself laughing into your drink and swaying to music as a few choreographed routines are performed. Some of the more elaborate dances are entertaining.

“The birthday girl likes a pretty boy,” your sister says, conspiring with your friends to find the perfect man to entertain you.

“No, I don’t,” you say. You roll your eyes and playfully shove her shoulder.

“Well,” she says, “there are no boring lawyers on that stage, so a pretty face will have to suffice.”

They proceed to point out a few of the prettier dancers while you shake your head. You turn to watch the stage where a different set of men are in the middle of a routine. There is a very rowdy bachelorette party in front of your table, occasionally blocking the view of one side of the stage. You are sipping you drink when a few girls move, opening the view.

You promptly spit your drink everywhere. Your friends squeal while you choke and there is enough chaos at your table for one of the dancers to look directly at you.

Not just any dancer.

Kim Seungmin.

You have seen that face twice a day every day for months and you still barely recognize him. It is no wonder that even a slightly obstructed view warped him entirely.

Your modest, low-key friend is dazzling under the stage lights, face lightly made-up and his usual shaggy hair pushed back off his face. Is it possible for a glimpse of forehead to so drastically change the composition of a familiar face? He looks like a new man, his features striking on his bright, open face, all framed by neatly styled dark hair. The familiar sparkle in his dark eyes is accentuated by the gleam of something shining around his neck. Necklace? Choker? Collar?

He is in a white dress shirt and blue jeans, ripped at the knee, but everything about him seems illuminated. He is the bold, blazoned fantasy version of the boy next door. Very literally in your case, which is maybe why you think it, watching him cross the stage with more verve and confidence than you knew he possessed. Your Seungmin walks in a casual shuffle, hands in his pockets. He does not stride.

He certainly does not… gyrate. Which is what he is doing when he catches your eye. There is a moment of shared recognition and subsequent surprise, wide-eyed as you hold gazes across a noisy room.

Seungmin, a seemingly consummate professional, blinks the surprise off his face and goes back to his routine.

You are not so practiced. Your surprise stays plastered there, your mouth open and eyes wide as you stare at him. The dance that seemed so exaggerated and ridiculous on the other performers is something else on Seungmin. Maybe it is his character, the boy next door with his ripped jeans and smirking grin. Or maybe it is because he is your boy next door.

He is not ridiculous. Quite the opposite. He makes it look natural, fluid and unhurried with the swivel of his hips and teasing grin. He seems to somehow make eye contact with everyone in the room.

You remind yourself that is his job when his eyes wander back to you. It does not slow the race of your heart.

He sits on a chair and opens his shirt. Some of the other dancers are more than half-naked, but he has a captive audience with the simplest action. Keeping each step to the beat of the music, he reclines and undoes his belt, which makes your lips part. Then he lets his shirt drop down his arms and reveals his shoulders, which makes you gasp. Then he cups a hand between his legs, curving his palm over the not-insubstantial bulge in his jeans. Heat fills the core of you.

He looks right at you with a tilt of his head and a lazy smile, the subtle sort of smirk that does not need to exaggerate. He knows he has you.

“Oh my god,” your friend says. “Not birthday girl eye-fucking a stripper.”

“What!” You rip your attention away all at once, flushed hot from head to toe. “I am not!”

“Well, he was eye-fucking you.”

You take a gigantic gulp of water, though it does not to quell the heat inside. Until today, the most you dared to fantasize about Seungmin was a prolonged kiss on the porch. Seungmin is polite. He does not eye-fuck.

Except you glance over the rim of your cup. He is still looking at you. It is not the way he looks at everyone else, who he skims with a cursory glance and flirtatious wink. It is a lingering, penetrating stare, like he is calling you to him with his eyes alone.

Oh. Gosh. He is eye-fucking you.

“I think,” your sister says, “we found a pretty boy for the birthday girl.”

And that is how you find yourself sitting in a small private room, barely bigger than a coat closet and washed in a dark purple light. You are perched on a plush little seat, holding your handbag so tightly your knuckles start to hurt. You let go and clear your throat, embarrassed even though you are alone. You place the bag on the floor and smooth your hands down the skirt of your dress.

You squeak like a frightened little mouse, jumping when Kim Seungmin startles you for the third time tonight. Once on your doorstep. Once on stage. And now in this little room, silhouetted by the hall lights until he closes the divider. He is still in his ripped jeans and dress shirt, neatly buttoned and composed again.

He runs a hand through his hair which makes your heart skip beats. You feel a little preposterous, scandalized by a forehead, but it makes his gaze so direct. You melt under the intensity of his stare.

“I hear it’s your birthday,” he says.

You imagine yourself as a stranger to him, the same line recited with the same confidence. For some reason, it is just as tantalizing. You like abrasive, quirky law student Kim Seungmin in his hoodie and jeans. But you find yourself irrevocably spellbound by this other version of him, who is so seductive it has women drawing money out of their purses.

“Yes,” is what you say, instead of all that.

He tilts his head, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. He is always clever but his open face makes his scrutiny more apparent. You swallow when he approaches, when he sinks down on one knee while holding your gaze in thrall.

“Breathe,” he says. “That’s not a request.” He rests his hands on the seat, framing your body between them. He does not touch you. He does not need to. Your breath spills free in a rush and he smirks. “Good. All right. So… neighbour… Should we talk?”

You think a thousand thoughts. Yes, a conversation. No, your friends paid for this room. They think you will get a lap dance or something, then return quickly. You want to ask when he is free for dinner. You want to ask how long he has worked here. You want to know him. You really, really want to kiss him.

You say instead, “I’ve never done this sort of thing before.”

He looks at you for another moment, still studious. You swallow again. Then he smiles that dastardly grin, wide and a little mean.

“And you want to?” he asks. “Do this sort of thing?”

“Only if it’s you,” you say, then avert your gaze out of embarrassment. Maybe that was too much cringe-worthy honesty.

He touches your chin, drawing your gaze back to him. You blink at him, helpless but to study his face in turn. He was always decently good-looking but he is driving you to complete distraction. You find yourself staring at his lips well before he starts speaking.

“I think you have more depth than either of us know, don’t you?” he asks.

“Maybe,” you say, laughing a little. You look at him with wide, earnest eyes. “Don’t we all?”

He touches his tongue to his upper lip, looking thoughtful but undoubtedly smiling. Then he smacks his lips and nods, his hair bouncing.

“Right,” he says. “In that case, birthday girl…”

He stands and your eyes follow. He holds your gaze until he starts unbuttoning his shirt, then your eyes drop to his hands, the deft flick of his fingers as they crawl down his chest.

A professional, you think. It gets you undeniably hot. You meet his eyes again when he tugs his shirt off and drops it behind him. He is more slender than chiseled, especially compared to some of the other dancers, but there is a firmness to his body, a control he has mastered.

He grabs a bar above your head that you did not even notice, using it to lift and lower himself over you. He lands in a smooth straddle with his knees cradling you under him.

You sit back, breathing harder already. Then he takes your hands and lifts them over your head, making your fingers twitch with anticipation. You are still fully clothed but your dress is sleeveless and low-cut and this feels like a vulnerable position, arms raised with a half-naked Kim Seungmin straddling your body.

He curls your fingers around the bar then drags his knuckle down the bare skin of your arms, making you shiver despite the packed heat of this little room.

“You keep your hands where they are,” he says, “or I’ll tie them up.”

You nod a little frantically and it makes him laugh. Then he is leaning back just enough to rock his body over yours, bringing your attention to every flawless plane of his body as he moves on you. He touches you sparingly, making you watch, making you wonder. Looking and fantasizing about what his hips can really do, what strength is hidden in the body he has mastered. He follows the low music, ever deep thrum of a bass, every heart-pounding beat.

He brings his face close to yours, so close your lips almost touch. It steals your breath like a real kiss would.

“I’m going to touch you,” he says. “Be good for me, birthday girl. Maybe there’s a present in it for you. Only if I like you.”

You cannot find any witty quips to return. He is definitely the experienced one, as effortless with his words as with everything else. You can only gawk at him as he slides smoothly off. Then his hands are on your legs, making them quiver, your body startled with the direct touch despite the warning.

Your skirt gathers just a bit, his hands curling under your knees. Then he is spreading your legs, not enough to see anything but enough you feel the empty space between them. Oh yes, emptier than you have ever felt. You are surprised by the way you clench, your body aching for more. He only teases, makes you feel that emptiness and picture every what if. He helps you with your fantasy, pushing your legs back like he would if he was fucking you deep, rolling his hips so close to yours in mimicry.

“Oh,” is the only sound you make. Your breathing is very loud. It says a lot on its own.

He is breathing a little harder too. He is still between your legs when he starts unbuttoning his jeans. He shuffles them down his hips but not all the way off. You can see he is wearing nothing underneath, the denim itself a suddenly tantalizing piece, slung low on his hips with the subtle sloping v of his body drawing your gaze to his middle.

“I don’t usually go further than this, you know,” he says. He slowly pushes the next button loose and you can feel the rush of heat from your belly swoop lower. His bulge looks obscene at this vantage, pushing at what little remains of the denim around it. “But I think I like you, birthday girl.” He opens another button. “I think I can make an exception.” He pushes the last button then grasps his jeans at the hips, grinning as he says, “Our secret.”

Secret, illicit, that’s what this feels like, looking at the gorgeous man you have been pining after, watching as he pushes his jeans down his hips and thighs. You are tucked in a small room not far away from a rowdy crowd, Kim Seungmin dropping the last of his clothes then continuing his slow and sensual movements.

You feel dizzy, your arms shaking. You close your mouth when you literally salivate, because his dick is right there, hard and curving up in front of you as he moves with skilled ease. You giggle a little nervously when he notices and swipes a thumb across your lips. Then he reaches up, curling his hands over yours on the bar as he leans in close to your face.

“You wanna touch me?” he asks, palms over your knuckles. You nod frantically and he grins that mean smile, tilting his head as he looks down at you. “What will you give me for it?”

“Anything,” you say. “You can do anything to me. You can have all of me.”

It occurs only seconds later he might mean money, but he just laughs, that familiar ha-ha-ha you have heard a dozen times before.

“Is that how you usually get out of these situations?” he teases. “By fucking your way out of them?”

“You’re so mean,” you say with a helpless pout.

“Yeah,” he says, brushing his nose with yours. “I am. I could be worse, but it’s your birthday.” He takes your hands and lowers them, guiding them to his shoulders.

You touch him carefully, as if he is fragile, or like he could disappear beneath your fingertips. This moment hardly seems real, ethereal and bright, all neon and purple haze. This is not like you and that is thrilling. This is all new, but he is also familiar. You are enjoying this, him, you together.

You touch him slowly, with intention, just the gentlest caress across his bare shoulders. It wipes his grin, makes his breathing get all slow like he is savouring it too. He looks at you with more intensity.

“You said I can anything?” he asks.

A nod is all it takes, then he is sinking to his knees. He pushes back a few loose strands of his hair, then his hands are under your knees and he is pulling you to the edge of your seat. You make a little noise of surprise, clutching his shoulders until he manoeuvres you. Then it is your legs on his shoulders and he is running his tongue along your inner thigh.

“Seungmin,” you say, breathlessly.

“Shh, shh,” he says. “Our secret, remember?”

Then he is tugging your now wet panties to the side, his mouth on you in a ravenous motion. You cover your mouth to try and stifle most of your moaning, but you cannot help the few sounds that escape, especially as he takes you closer and closer to a climax. He surfaces, still using his hand to get you close, his lips wet and eyes searching. He smirks, sliding two fingers into you while rolling his thumb across that distended bundle of nerves.

“That’s not quiet, birthday girl,” he says. “Don’t make me gag you.”

“I’m quiet,” is your rasping reply.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asks, fucking his fingers roughly through all the wet desire between your thighs, making you shake. “I can’t hear you over all that noise you’re making,” he says. “It almost sounds like you’re about to come for me. That’s pretty dirty. What would everyone out there say?”

Shocked. They would be shocked if they even believed it. You would not have believed it of yourself a few hours ago. But now you are coming all over his face and hand and it is still not enough. You have never begged for anything but the words are on your lips, your mouth open and eyes wide as you stare at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, fingers swirling at your entrance. He pushes in and out, just his fingertips, tormenting you. “That just made you needier, didn’t it? Tsk.” He sighs dramatically. “I don’t usually offer that. It’ll cost you.”

“I’ll cook the recipe on page sixteen too,” you say, making him laugh naturally again.

“What a bargain,” he says. He grabs his jeans and fishes a condom out of the back pocket. He even seems to make a show of that. He puts it on and fists his cock for you, standing above you while you catch your breath. When you reach for him, he grabs your wrists and yanks you up. He is effortless and quick, as always, spinning you around and pressing your hands to the back of the seat.

“You know the rules,” he says. “Hands there or I tie them up. That’s my girl.”

You follow his directions and bend over, feeling utterly debauched before he is even inside you. He lifts your skirt and tugs your panties aside again. You are fully dressed and he is completely naked, but you somehow feel more exposed, more vulnerable in his confident hands. He holds your hips and eases inside you, inch by solid inch until he is pressed up against your backside, buried to the hilt.

“That’s it,” he says, tone still cocky though it soon gives way to panting. He makes a few rough sounds of his own, fucking you quick and dirty in this small room. You are going to walk out of here smelling and looking like sex itself, dishevelled and shaky and well-fucked. Practically a new woman, one you are eager to know, containing as many contradictory dualities as Seungmin.

Seungmin, your goofy friend, who throws his head back as he drives into you again and again, shushing you when you get too loud. He muffles his own cry in your shoulder when he comes, still rocking against you for a moment after that.

“Fuck,” you say, dropping onto the seat after. He is tugging his jeans back on, though his eyes are on you. It is a scrutinous stare again. You undoubtedly have questions for each other. For now, you just smile, taking another shuddery breath as you come down from your high. “Well,” you say. “That might have been worth page seventeen too.”

His gaze softens, the corner of his eyes crinkling with his smile. He leans over you, brushes his nose against yours, and finally kisses you. It is the soft, tender kiss you dreamed about so long ago. It leaves you as breathless as everything else.

“All right, neighbour,” he says, “it’s a date.”

#kim seungmin x reader #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x you #stray kids x you #kim seungmin x you #valentinesdaystories #kpop fanfiction

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harryslittlefreakk · 11 months ago

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the pact

summary: you and harry made a childhood pact to marry if you were both still single when he reached 30. now that his big birthday is approaching, you find out whether your friendship (and your pact) have stood the test of time

warnings: mostly fluff, some smut :)

wordcount: 6k

a/n: i actually really like this one. it’s not proofread yet as i was so eager to get it up lol. hope you enjoy!

my masterlist can be found here! happy reading 🫶🏼

From the second you’d received the invitation, you were buzzing with a giddy nervousness. It had been years since you’d seen Harry, though Anne and Gemma were always so quick to share what he was up to. You’d followed his career silently for 13 years, still bumping into him every few years when Anne hosted Boxing Day, or he happened to be in town for your family’s annual summer barbecues. In your mind, he was still the cheeky, dimpled little lad you’d hide under the dining room table with, imagining you were explorers of far away lands.

But Harry wasn’t the young boy you’d chased after in your childhood anymore, the teenager you looked out for when you stuck your head over the garden fence to call your sister home. He wasn’t the handsome young man you’d spent countless hours swooning over with your friends in the bakery after school. Harry was a global sensation, the world’s sweetheart. You weren’t sure he’d even recognise you, a forgotten reminder of much simpler days.

Growing up next door to Harry hadn’t come without its challenges. You’d lost your childhood best friend seemingly overnight once One Direction formed, his life suddenly busy with meetings, tours and interviews. Anne still welcomed you with open arms, but her house felt a little too cold for you with his presence haunting the walls, memories etched into every surface of the house. You’d still hang out in his bedroom sometimes, his band posters and drawings left collecting dust in a lifeless room. When girls from school learned of your connection to him, they’d befriend you and treat you like the hottest new thing until you refused to give over any information. He was your Harry, your long-gone games and silly memories something you held close to your heart. It soon seemed easier to let him go altogether, move on to a new chapter, stop waiting for your best friend to appear again.

Still, you were glad to be able to support Gemma on one of her biggest days. She’d become such a regular feature in your household, she felt like family herself. Your parents had been more overjoyed at the news of her impending nuptials than any of yours or your sister’s recent achievements. They loved Gemma like their own, their ‘extra daughter’, as your dad called her. You knew this was as big a moment for them as it was for Anne, having watched Gemma grow from the tiny dark-haired girl your sister had raved about on her first day of school, to a woman about to become a wife.

Standing outside of the venue now, a beautiful old church overlooking the peaceful tides below, yours and Harry’s childhood pact suddenly hit you. You were laying on a blanket in your garden, tops of your heads pressed together as you made out shapes in the clouds above. “I will never get married,” you told Harry. Your parents had had their wedding album out that day, sharing stories with Anne and Robin. You squirmed and grimaced every time they spoke about it, never understanding how any girl would willingly share their life with a boy. “Yuck,” he squeaked from next to you. “Me either. I don’t ever want to live with a stinky girl!” You giggled together, the cool evening breeze washing over you. “Maybe, maybe I might one day though. When I’m really old and lonely.”

“Old like my parents?” you asked him. “Even olderer than that. Like 30.” You gasped, quickly trying to count on your fingers. “That’s really really old. Maybe we can be married when we’re 30.” Harry ran inside when you said this, leaving you chasing after him once again. He grabbed a napkin from the kitchen counter and scribbled on it in felt tip,

‘I ____ will marry Harry when we’re really super old’

“You have to put your name on that line or it’s not real,” Harry told you, handing the blue felt tip to you. You both signed your initials underneath, and proudly went to show your parents. They’d fallen about in laughter when you told them, promising to hold you to your pact. You hadn’t seen the napkin since that day, and you were sure it was long forgotten by everybody, especially Harry. You felt a small twinge in your chest at this, suddenly wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Hey Boo, you okay? Anne wants to get some pictures of us all together before the ceremony,” your dad told you, leading you through the crowd of guests. Boo was the only nickname that had ever stuck for you, starting when you and Harry decided to go as Boo and Sully from Monsters Inc. one Halloween. You’d originally wanted to be Mike, but with your big brown eyes shielded by little bangs and your signature pigtails, everyone persuaded you to be Boo. You’d outgrown almost everything else from childhood, but Boo was stuck with you for life.

“Oh Y/N, you look lovely darling,” Anne cooed as you came into her sight. She pulled you in for a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulled away. You had to admit, you did scrub up well. It was a long time since you’d really made the effort to look properly nice, still caught in the comfort of your pandemic wardrobe of leggings and sweatshirts. The olive-green maxi dress you’d settled on hugged your body in all the right places, a thick band of material draping over your chest and the tops of your arms, showcasing your toned shoulders. You’d always weirdly liked your shoulders and neck, an odd area to be proud of but it was by far your favourite part of your body. Your hair was scraped back in a sleek bun, tiny wisps framing your fresh face. “Gem and Sophia are still inside, they’ll be out in a minute. Gem’s so excited to see you, it’s been so long since we’ve all been together,” Anne gushed, running a hand up the outside of your arm.

She had such a delicate, warm presence, it was no wonder she’d raised two children as incredible as Harry and Gemma. Anne had been an extension of your own mum as you grew up, small traces of her as much as part of you as they were her own kids. She’d talked you through boys and heartbreaks, been there to wave you off to your school prom, one of the proudest faces in the crowd when you graduated university. She’d been stationed on the garden patio alongside your mum at every birthday party, the two women nattering away as they guarded the wine.

Gemma stepped out of the door, pulling you out of your daydream down memory lane. Your jaw went slack when you saw her, she was positively radiant. Her dress was a dainty satin, huge bishop sleeves adorning her arms and a beautiful full skirt, flowing around her petite frame in the gentle seaside breeze. Your mum rushed over to her first, smoothing a loving hand down the front of her skirt. “You look beautiful Gem,” she told her, tears glistening on her bottom eyelashes. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged throughout the group, shoulders bumping gaily as you moved around. One thing was still missing though - Harry. You knew he’d never miss his sisters wedding, though he was absolutely nowhere to be seen. Just as you were about to ask, you saw him. With a deep brown suit jacket draped across his body, matching slacks hanging loose on his muscular thighs. A white vest hung low on his chest, his inked swallows sitting pretty on tanned skin.

You knew how good he looked these days, of course. Your tiktok had been full of videos of him performing, Anne’s house littered with framed photos. But seeing him in real life lit a fire in your belly. He’d always been pretty, green eyes and curls enough to charm any woman, but now he was hot. A great, big hunk of sexy man. He approached your parents first, laughing as your dad chose to forgo Harry’s outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug instead. “Here’s our not-so-little superstar,” he smiled, ruffling Harry’s messy curls. Harry pressed a kiss into your mums cheek, exchanging a quick but heartfelt hello. His eyes caught on yours as he glanced across the courtyard, your brown eyes still crinkled as you smiled, in exactly the same way they had when you were younger. “Little Boo!” he chuckled, striding towards you. His strong arms wrapped you into a firm cuddle, his musky scent spilling into your pores. “You look incredible,” he whispered into your ear, voice raspy and low. It wasn’t long before Anne was ushering you all into place to take some pictures, cutting yours and Harry’s catch up short. “Come and find me later,” he told you as you beamed for the camera.

—

With the ceremony long-finished, the party had spilled out of the church hall and onto the grounds outside. You’d danced, mingled and laughed for as long as you could before needing a minute of quiet. Brushing your hand across your mum’s back, you told her you were going for a little walk and would be back soon. You slipped out of the open doors, yanking your heels off in search of some quick relief. You spotted a little wooden bench overlooking the sea, a little way away from the other guests. A great oak tree shielded it from the warm evening sun, providing you just the right amount of peace.

“Thought you were gonna find me,” a voice suddenly came from behind you. You turned around to see Harry approaching your private spot, a sparkling glass in each hand. “Hey,” you smiled. “Just needed a little bit of quiet. Come sit,” you patted the bench beside you. Harry handed you one of the glasses as he sat down, murmuring, “saw you heading over here. Thought I’d bring you a little tipple.” You cheersed, the clinking of glasses cutting through a heavy silence. “How have you been?” he asked you, shifting his body slightly to face you.

“Been good, H. Thank you for asking. Work’s going well, was a bit slow with the pandemic and all but life’s been kind to me recently. I don’t really need to ask you, do I?” you laughed, suddenly shy in his presence. “No, I guess not,” he answered, smiling kindly at you. You settled back into an uncomfortable silence, not really sure how to talk to one another anymore.

“Mum told me you moved to London,” Harry said, seemingly desperate to pierce the awkwardness hanging over you both. “Yeah, I did,” you told him, explaining how Holmes Chapel had started to feel just a little too small, a little too cut off from the rest of the world. “I can understand that,” he told you, chuckling. You ran through the usual questions, telling him about your work as an illustrator, your little flat off of Finchley high road, the couple of girls from school you’d kept in touch with. “I can’t believe you live so close to me,” he gasped. “Mum could never remember what area you lived in, if I’d known you were only down the road we could have reconnected long before now,” Harry told you. You let out an involuntary scoff at this, telling him, “you know where to find me, H. You know your mum has my number, you know where I’ll be every Christmas and birthday. If you really wanted to reconnect it would have happened long before now.” Your words tumbled out, years of one-sided hurt and rejection suddenly pushing to the surface. Harry took a big sip of his drink, placing his hand over yours. “I’ve been shit, I know. Got caught up in everything and barely looked back. Wanted to reach out a long time before now but I couldn’t bring myself,” he told you. “Felt so bad for how I just disappeared and didn’t want to face it.”

You looked at him with sad eyes, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. “I get it, H. I’m really happy for you, I am. You had all your dreams come true, it’s amazing,” you set your glass down beside you and held your other hand over his. “Just feel sad that I lost my best friend overnight.” Your eyes welled up as you spoke, a combination of the free-flowing prosecco, the beautiful ceremony, and facing your hurt with the man who caused it. “Never had a friend who got me like you did,” you chuckled bitterly. Harry pulled his hands from yours and snaked an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. “I’m sorry, little Boo, I swear.”

The pair of you stayed that way for a while, soaking in each other’s words and the idyllic setting. Just being close to each other for the first time in almost a decade, having said what you both needed to, was bliss. “I thought about you a lot, y’know,” Harry told you suddenly, the words bursting out as if he’d been biting them back for a while. “Yeah?” you asked him, sitting up straighter to look at him again. He nodded, cheeks twinged slightly pink. You weren’t sure if it was the booze or his confession. “All my big moments, always wished you were there.”

“You know I would’ve been if I knew you wanted me to, Harry.”

“I know,” he mumbled, watching his own trainer-clad feet kicking little rocks around. “My mum and dad went to a few of your shows with Anne, watched the Brits and the Grammys every year you were nominated.” You swallowed thickly, before continuing, “I’m really proud of you, we all are.”

Harry turned his head slightly to the sound of music blaring from inside, before asking you, “dance with me?” He extended a hand to help you up, placing his glass down before wrapping an arm around your waist. You stepped together slowly, bodies moving in unison with your head rested softly against his chest. The skies had gotten gradually darker as you’d spoken, closing in around you until only a faint glow seeped out from the open church doors. Harry pushed you out, spinning you around before tugging you back into him. You smacked against his chest with a little ‘umph’, the wind knocked out of you. Your eyes met his, a little dazed, and all you could do was stare.

It felt like a betrayal of your childhood self to find him so attractive now. He was your best friend, your first friend, the only one to ever understand you fully. He’d guided you through your awkward pre-teen stage, the extra years he had on you put to good use when he showed you cool bands and songs to make boys like you. But now, you wanted him to be the boy that liked you. You were so flustered under his gaze, heat tearing through your body. “Let’s head back in,” you told Harry, words shaky. He kept an arm tight around your shoulder, shaking you about as you approached the church. ‘I’ve got my little Boo back’ he laughed in a sing-song tune. You could feel the happiness radiating off his body, knowing without even looking that his toothy grin would be firmly nestled between two deep dimples.

Your parents were sat around a table with Anne, Michal and Gemma still doing the rounds. You could tell they were drunk from a mile away - your dads cheeks stained red with merriment and Anne’s hands gesturing wildly as your mum roared with laughter. You’d missed this. You still went home as often as you could, never missing an opportunity to enjoy time with your loved ones, but before seeing Harry today it always felt different. Gemma, your sister, and Harry had all moved on, never fully present. But being the youngest, you were the one left behind. Harry pulled around two chairs for you both, plopping down between you and his mum. She draped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. “My special boy, where have you been?” she slurred.

“Been catching up,” Harry told her, a blush creeping up his cheeks as she looked between the two of you before winking at him. She was far from subtle before getting wine drunk, so now her entire head moved with her wink. She highlighted it with a loud “wink, wink” in Harry’s direction. “Anne!” you spluttered, choking out a laugh. Your dad reached over to snatch the two empty glasses from in front of you and Harry, promising to fill them to the brim so you could ‘get on their bloody level’.

The evening continued like that, the 5 of you drinking and laughing, reminiscing on your younger days. Your parents and Anne managing to bring up enough embarrassing stories about you both to put you off ever speaking to them again. “I think it’s time we all go to bed,” Harry started, holding his hands up. “Because we’re all fucking PISSED!”, he continued, yelling at the table. You banged on the table in hysterics, eyes screwed up tight as you and Anne fell into each other in laughter. Most of the venue had cleared out by now, guests dropping by your table to congratulate Anne on their way out. You’d barely seen Gemma all night, so content in her little love bubble that she’d spent the majority of the evening alone with Michal, feeding each other cake and slow-dancing.

“Come on, you big lump,” you tugged at your dad’s wrists who in turn pulled at your mum to stand up. Your dad swung his arms around you both, Harry and Anne joining onto the end, and you stumbled towards the exit in a fit of laughter. Harry tried to start a can-can line, kicking one big foot up into the air, but the 5 of you put together had far less coordination than even one sober person, so the idea was quickly abandoned.

The church had a converted barn outside, with rooms purpose-built for immediate family and friends to stay in. You hugged and kissed your goodnights to your parents and Anne, making sure they all got into bed without mischief. Now it was only you and Harry left, buzzed but significantly less drunk than your elders. “Care for one last round?” Harry asked you, slipping a little hip flask out from his blazer pocket. You knew this was a bad idea, a drunken evening alone with the man you’d been lusting after all day. But you certainly wouldn’t make the first move, and you were almost sure he didn’t think of you as anything other than the little girl who used to run around with him.

You followed him into his room, laughing to drown out the alarm bells ringing in your head. Once you saw the empty bed in front of you, you couldn’t help but just flop down on it, suddenly needing to be as comfortable as you could. The room was aged and rustic, but the bed was far more comfortable than it looked. Harry sat against the pillows beside you, long legs stretched out before him as he took a swig from the flask.

For the first time that day, the silence around you was peaceful. Just two old friends enjoying each others presence. Harry watched you as you took the flask from him, grimacing as the liquor went down with a burn. His green eyes were studying every little line on your face, every freckle dotted across your bare shoulders. There was so much new about you, so many little details and marks you’d gained as you grew older, all the little telltale signs of the years he’d missed. What he’d said to you earlier was true, he’d missed you with his whole heart from the second he’d left you behind, spent so many lonely nights wishing he had you by his side. He thought he’d outgrown you, his new-found fame taking precedence over the little girl he’d shared his dreams and aspirations with. But sitting here now with you, he knew you’d grown with him, no matter how far removed your life had become from his. “‘M nearly 30, you know,” he drawled, voice hoarse from the singing and the sting of alcohol in his throat.

“Huh?” you turned to him confused. “I’m 30 next year,” he told you. “Yeah I know, H. What does that have to do with anything?” you laughed, poking at the side of his head. “Means we have to get married next year,” he grinned. You gasped, remembering the pact you’d thought about earlier in the day, “you didn’t forget!” you laughed, sitting up against the soft pillows.

“Can’t do it next year though, two weddings in a year would send our parents insane,” you told him. “‘M finished with my tour now. Got nothing on next year,” Harry shrugged, a familiar cheeky smirk sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks. You felt something shift in the air as he spoke, and he seemed to feel it too, edging closer to you until his face was only centimetres away from yours. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he cooed, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. His touch shot electricity through your core, a tingling sensation starting where his fingers touched you before washing over your whole body. You shook your head lightly, eyes fixed on him. He leaned in at this, his parted lips meeting yours. The beginnings of a moustache tickled your upper lip, his hot breath flowing into your mouth with every lick of his tongue. You shifted your body towards him as the kiss deepened, four legs and the now-crumpled duvet tangling together as you rushed to close the distance between your bodies. Harry licked into your mouth with the passion of a million years of unspoken longing, his movements saying more than he ever could with words. It was the kind of kiss you’d expect from someone who’d loved you for a lifetime, who wanted to love you for a lifetime, your tongues working alongside each other like this was routine, like you’d done it a thousand times before.

“Harry,” you whispered, hands pushing his blazer from his shoulders. He let you pull it off him, then stroked a hand up your thigh as you admired his upper body. One arm was littered in patchwork tattoos, though all you could focus on was his muscles, illuminated beautifully in the evening light. “Let me get you out of this,” he rasped, twisting your shoulders around to access the zip running down the back of your dress. He smoothed his fingers down your waist and to your hips before unzipping you, your body dwarfed by his strong hands. Harry pressed a kiss into the top of your back, then kissed up and down your spine, hungry for a taste of you as he unveiled more of your skin. You stood up to help him pull your dress down, resting one hand on his shoulder to steady yourself as you stepped out of it, leaving it discarded on the floor. “Matches my eyes,” he smiled. His gaze trailed from your toes, up to your knees, to where your panties wrapped around your hips, and higher still. Up your tanned abdomen to your bare breasts where your rosebud nipples sat perky, to your neck, and finally his gaze rested on your eyes. “Y’so beautiful,” he groaned, running a soft touch along the curve of your neck.

Harry pulled his tank top over his head, stepping out of his slacks as they collapsed at his feet. His body was unbelievable. So tanned and toned, firm in all the right places yet soft in the best ones. You could see the outline of his hard shaft through the thin fabric of his boxers, an almost silent moan slipping out as you took in the sight before you.

He stepped closer to you, backing you up until the side of the bed hit the back of your knees, then held a hand to your back to guide you down onto it. His hot, drunken breath washed over you as he climbed on top of you, one hand balancing his body as the other explored you. His fingers groped your breast firmly, mouth finding the opposite nipple, sucking it into his lips in one quick movement. Your back arched off the bed, pleasure so built up that it only took one touch to send you into a frenzy. Harry licked a circle around your areola, chuckling against your skin as you writhed under his touch. “Barely even started yet, little Boo,” he drawled, moving upwards to kiss along your clenched jaw.

His fingers danced down your body, smoothing over your mound as you gasped and groaned. They slipped under the soft material of your panties, blissfully cold against the heat of your entrance. You were already soaked through, much to his surprise, so he swiped a finger through your folds to collect your juices before landing straight on your clit. Harry rubbed you in circles, the friction leaving you a panting mess under him, head jutting out to press open-mouthed kisses on his throat.

He pulled your panties down your thighs tenderly, kissing every inch of skin they passed over. In the dim light of the room, mouth moving up and down your body, he’d never looked so handsome. His cock brushed against you as he moved back up your body to focus again on your folds, your juices spread across your mound in a mess. Two long fingers dived straight in, his rings leaving a harsh chill against your sensitive skin. The stretch of his fingers alone had you panting, a familiar burning starting in your core. Harry found your sweet spot insanely fast, fingers moving in a perfect beckoning motion just as you liked. He navigated your body like you’d done this before, like the muscle memory just guided him to what he knew made you feel good. “I want more, want you inside of me,” you whined, hips bucking towards Harry’s groin as he silenced you with a deep kiss. “Got to get you ready for me first, Boo”, he told you. You winced as he used your nickname, knowing you’d never be able to hear your dad call you that without thinking of this night.

Harry’s mouth found your breast again, sucking deep purple bruises onto the gentle skin as you whimpered beneath him. He smacked at your pussy as your moans got louder, causing your eyes to shoot up to meet his. “Gotta keep the noise down, sweet girl.” You nodded in response, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip to keep yourself as quiet as you could be. The second his tongue found your nipple, you felt your orgasm bubbling up in your core. Harry noticed the way your head lulled back, slipping a third finger inside of you and using his thumb to brush against your clit. It was like the holy trinity of foreplay, his skilled tongue and fingers hitting your three most pleasurable zones at once. Your climax hit quickly, walls tightening around his digits as you clamped your forearm across your mouth, desperately trying not to scream his name. He peppered kisses down your throat as his fingers rode you through your high, only pulling them away when you went limp under him. Harry held his fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick off every trace of your creamy come.

He backed off you to kick his boxers down his legs, stroking his erection as it oozed precum. He found his wallet, pulling out a condom and rolling it down the length of his cock. “How do you want me, sweet girl?” he asked you, cock twitching in his hand. “Wanna go on top,” you told him, suddenly eager to impress. If his cock was anywhere near as good to you as his hands and mouth had been, you couldn’t only have him once. You needed to show him how good your pretty pussy could take him, make him want to come back for more.

Harry rolled onto the centre of the bed, hands guiding your hips down over his groin. His hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you towards him for a sloppy kiss. His mouth tasted of you, the familiar tingle of juices on his tongue. You stroked his member up and down quickly, before lining it up with your entrance and pushing yourself down onto his tip. “Fuck, H. You’re so big,” you whined, thighs burning as you hovered above him. He used his hands to move you up, then down, down, down, helping you to take him fully. The burn was like nothing you’d experienced before, his girthy cock crammed into every corner of your pussy. You stilled for a moment, hands resting against his butterfly tattoo, chest rising and falling quickly as you tried to push past the ache. He held a thumb under your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “You ok, pet?” he asked, needing to be sure before you continued. You nodded, moving one arm to pull his finger into your mouth. You licked circles around his fingertip, sucking it in down to his knuckle before releasing with it a pop.

Harry’s hands guided your hips to grind against him, helping you until you found your rhythm. He pulled them away, one landing with a loud smack on your ass cheek as the other crept up the front of your body, resting at your throat. He squeezed lightly, the sensation only spurring you on to bounce up and down on him, the combination of your juices squelching as your cheeks slapped against his groin. It was the kind of hot, dirty sex you’d only ever dreamed of, and it had you falling apart on top of him. You cried out a strangled moan, expletives falling out of both of your mouths. “Feel so good around me,” Harry groaned, “so fucking wet. S’that all for me?”

“All for you, H. M’all yours,” you whimpered. His hips bucked against you as you told him you were his, fingers pulling away from your supple ass. He spat on them before dancing them back across your asscheek and smoothing the spit around your second hole, eyes fixed on your pussy bouncing on his cock. “Can I?” he asked you. “Please, H.”

He pushed a finger into your tightness, filling you up so well. You felt so full you could burst. His eyes were clouded over with lust, tiny hairs slick to his forehead with sweat. He looked feral, and you loved it. He repositioned his feet to where they were flat against the bed, hips knocking into you as you moved up and down his cock, his thrusts sending him deeper and deeper inside of you. You were both panting now, barely able to contain your highs for a second longer. “Come with me, come with me please,” you begged him, your second orgasm of the night starting to rise through your core. His thrusts got faster and sloppier, obscene sounds echoing around the room, a clear sign of what you were doing to anyone who could hear you right now. Your orgasm crept up on you quickly, thanks to Harry tightening his grip around your neck and pushing his finger further into your tight hole. Your head was thrown back as you came, back arched making his cock feel as though it could burst through your belly button. Harry moaned loudly, hips jutting one last time as he flooded the condom with his come. You collapsed in a sweaty heap, totally unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Took me so well, angel girl,” Harry drawled as he pulled out of you, padding across the room to toss the condom and rinse his hands. You lay there in total bliss, comfortable in the knowledge that your friendship was long gone.

—

“Let me go first and you can come after,” you told Harry, holding a finger up to shush him when he started to laugh. “We’re grown adults, Y/N, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees us come out together.”

“I don’t write songs about sex and drugs. My body is still untouched in my parents eyes,” you told him, hand slipping from the doorknob as he pulled you in for another kiss. “Just don’t come until you hear me leaving.”

You crept out of the room as silently as you could, heels and dress bundled under one arm. You’d heard Anne, your parents and Gemma head out to the courtyard already, so there was no danger of being caught by prying eyes - or so you thought. As you were padding across the hallway to your room, Anne appeared round the corner. “I was just coming to see if you were awake,” she told you, eyes sparkling with glee. “No wonder your mum said your bed was untouched.” She knocked on Harry’s door with a tight-lipped smile lighting up her face. He opened the door wide-eyed as Anne pulled him into a firm hug, pressing a sticky lipgloss kiss to his cheek. “I always hoped you two would get together.” She disappeared back down the hall as quickly as she appeared, leaving you and Harry blushing.

You decided to make your way outside together, knowing it wouldn’t be long before your parents put two and two together anyway. Plus, you knew Anne wouldn’t be able to resist telling your mum and Gemma what she saw.

—

You decided to spend the day on the beach, you and Harry with your parents and Anne, since Gemma and Michal had already left for their honeymoon. It was a perfect summers day, the sun warm enough to enjoy but not hot enough to irritate you, the gentle sea breeze cooling you down as it washed over you. Your mum and Anne were sprawled across a linen blanket, two bottles of wine stood in the sand next to their feet. They called you over, instant dread washing over you as Anne excitedly shouted your name. “Do you have anything to tell us?” she asked you, and you were sure there would be mischief glinting in her eyes under her big sunglasses. They sat up and scooted over on their blanket, leaving space for you to slot in between. “Nothing that I’m sure you don’t already know,” you smirked, a deep blush creeping up your cheeks. Your mum looked between Anne and you, gasping as she swatted at your leg. “So it’s true! You dirty little minx.”

You held your head in your hands, mortified that your parents knew you’d slept with Harry. “Oh relax,” your mum told you. “It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she smirked, throwing herself towards Anne as they howled in laughter. Anne stopped suddenly, her hand tapping at your mum’s thigh incessantly. “If they get married, we’ll be real family!” she gasped, face pink with joy. “Well, the pact is what got us there in the first place,” Harry told them, sitting down next to you and snaking a hand around your waist.

“I forgot all about that,” your mum’s jaw went slack. “Do you still have it?” she asked Anne. “Of course I do. Kept it safe to show them when they found their way back to each other, always knew this day would come.”

part two

taglist: @sleutherclaw @harrysolaf @slutforcoffein

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles #harry styles fic #harryslittlefreakk #harry styles masterlist

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mygnolia · 4 months ago

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JUST ANOTHER LOVE SONG ୨୧ l. heeseung

୨୧ -› he's your high school sweetheart; something that was meant to be, written in the stars.

pair -› (student body) secretary!heeseung x vice pres! reader | wc -› 1k | cw -› just lots of kisses! | for @jlheon 's entopia event!! proud of u for 1k!

highschool is for growth, youth, and naivety. but highschool is where you meet lee heeseung, which makes all those other factors insignificant.

highschool relationships aren’t easy; if everything in your lives is tumultuous and ever changing, how can you expect your love with lee heeseung to stay the same? it’s like a field of flowers- and as much as you wished its beauty to be forever, it wilts, and sprouts with the seasons.

and things are never perfect, but you two make it work, through the good and bad, and that’s what makes it worth fighting for. and you love heeseung, enveloping him in all of those ‘disgusting, couply’ feelings that make life more memorable.

you bump into student body secretary heeseung one time in the hallway, and he helps you carry one of the many bags you had prepared for decorations headed to the student body classroom. it’s tidy, as your president and friend jungwon likes the classroom to be, with one of your favorite kind-hearted teachers looking over your meetings every week.

and you’ve known of lee heeseung. you’ve heard his singing as you pack up after long and tedious days full of planning. you’ve done student body bondings with him not quite by your side- but with you nonetheless. but this is the first time you’ve seen him in a more romantic light- and you like it more than you expect.

as heeseung still carries your bags, you tell him about how stressful planning winter formal is, considering how the venue was secured with immense luck. usually, in october, there’s nothing left for schools who procrastinate, but your principal didn’t make it easy to be proactive in the first place.

your love blossoms here, where he opens the door for you and laughs at your little jokes- where lee heeseung is in his element with park jongseong as treasurer and jungwon helping you all. it blossoms easily, when you two snicker in the back of the classroom and poke lighthearted fun at jay when he talks about his emails and responses. it’s fleeting- almost impossible to catch, but there’s a shift in the air after he really meets you. he helps you plan a bit more after hearing your struggles, and you make neat folders for his documents and reach out about government in hopes of starting conversations, even if it was about school. you two sit near each other, buy food for each other after stressful finals, and to be honest, it all goes by fast. it’s scary to know you’ve developed solid feelings by his birthday where you write him a sweet note with a meaningful gift, or by winter when you kiss him for the first time.

your love is young, and full of recklessness- but you two work through all the problems that comes with being so hopelessly in love in a time like highschool.

and within moments where you cry to him on the phone, or times where either of you mess up and have to apologize, there are moments that make your heart swell, too. like, when he tells you he loves you for the first time as perhaps a slip of the tongue, apologizing. “i always say it to my mom before i hang up.” he explains, picking at his nails from nervousness as he waits for your response on the other line. “but it’s not like i don’t mean it.”

and you giggle before repeating the words, stuffing your face into your pillow before you hang up and dream of heeseung.

or, that time where he blasted a song from his car and sang along to the lyrics as he asked you out for prom, his trunk propped open with flowers, and a huge smile on his face. and heeseung’s not afraid to love you in public, in a way that displays his grad gestures without the privacy of your intimacy behind closed doors.

and you think about it; the kisses you two share when impossibly close, with lovesick grins and warm, sweaty palms as heeseung would reach out to tuck your hair behind your ear and scrunch your shirt in his other hand to pull you close. and you are assured by him that you are loved with how he looks at you, with his gentle gazes and warm embraces that calm your bubbling feelings.

it is in the quiet moments where you two are most vulnerable. where you cry and tell him he’s hurt you (seldomly!), or when he kisses your temple and whispers his words of affirmation.

even still, even three years later when your friends marvel at how your relationship still holds true despite the distance and longing, you’re at a loss of words as to how to explain it. heeseung loves and loves, like he was born to reassure your worries and comb his fingers through your hair. how do you explain a feeling so invigorating yet serene at the same time? and your friends tell you that heeseung would do anything for you, and they tell you he would turn back an entire train just to hold your face in his hands and seal your lips with his just once more before the end of the day.

and your love with him continues to grow and change over time. like how flowers leave all of their fate to the sun and storm, you two try not to overthink the little things and let your relation run its path. and it’s been three years from highschool ever since junior year when you two got together, so you’re not the same snickering duo in the back of your classroom. but sometimes, heeseung presses a searing kiss to your lips after having not seen you for a while, and it makes you feel the very same as you did those days in october, hands intertwined under the desks with looks of longing.

and with how easy it is to talk about how heeseung loves you wholly, you think, you could write one, or maybe even two lovesongs about him.

REN SAYS... this was a little messy but full of love nonetheless. i heart lee heeseung

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lilacstro · 5 months ago

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your birthday and profections

hey!! I hope you all are doing fine. If its your birthday, then happy birthday haha(so random lmao) This is a long post, so you may need to read through :) Apart from your solar return, profection years are another way to check major themes of your year.

At its most basic, every age that’s a multiple of 12 is a 1st House year. So that’s when you turn 0, 12, 24, 36, 48, 60, 72 and so on.

Every year after is a 2nd house year, which is when you turn 1, 13, 25, 37, 49, 61, 73

3rd house year: 2, 14,26,38,50,62,74 and onwards

Once you know the house connected to your current age, you can plot your experience of life via the topics and themes of each of the 12 houses.

Themes House wise:

1st House - Self, Identity, Beginnings (YOU CHANGE)

Self-image, appearance, first impressions, approach to life, early environment, physical body, persona

2nd House - Value, Possessions (YOUR PERSONAL BELIEFS CHANGE)

Finances, personal resources, material wealth, values, self-worth, assets, possessions, spending habits

3rd House - Communication, Learning

Communication, siblings, local travel, early education, writing, neighbors, short trips, mental processes

4th House - Home, Family

Home, family, ancestry, roots, real estate, emotional foundation, private life, parents

5th House - Creativity, Pleasure

Creativity, romance, children, play, entertainment, hobbies, self-expression, speculation

6th House - Work, Health (TAKE CARE OF YOUR HEALTH)

Daily work, service, health, routine, fitness, diet, pets, responsibilities

7th House - Partnerships

Marriage, partnerships, close relationships, contracts, public relations, collaboration

8th House - Transformation, Shared Resources

Transformation, death and rebirth, inheritance, shared resources, taxes, sexuality, mysteries, occult

9th House - Exploration, Higher Learning (YOUR LUCK CHANGES)

Higher education, philosophy, long-distance travel, religion, law, beliefs, exploration, publishing

10th House - Career, Public Life

Career, public image, reputation, social status, authority, ambitions, government, recognition

11th House - Social Networks, Aspirations

Keywords: Friendships, social groups, networks, aspirations, community, collective causes, social activities, ideals

12th House - Subconscious, Solitude (YOU CONNECT MORE WITH YOUR SOUL AND HIGHER SELF AND PURPOSE)

Subconscious, solitude, secrets, endings, spirituality, isolation, hidden enemies, mysticism

Your Time Lord for the Year

The other thing profections will do is turn on a planet as the ruler or ‘lord’ of your year ahead. This is called a time lord. This planet will be the traditional ruling planet of the sign on the profected house.

For example, your profected house by age is the 7th House, look at the sign in that house. Gemini in 7th? Mercury is the ruler. Taurus in 7th? Venus is your time lord.

This planet becomes a guiding influence for your year ahead. Not that if you have Venus as your time lord you will fall in love daily lmao, But rather, you will experience rulership of this planet affecting your themes of the year. I hope im making sense.

Planets in Houses

Next, check the placements and themes of your profected house in your natal chart. For instance, everyone turning 18 will be in a 7th house year BUT each person will have different planets in their 7th house, and a different sign ruling the house.

For example, my 7th house is empty, and in my 18th year nothing major or life changing has happened, I am on my gap year.

If you have Mars in your 7th House, then your Mars themes – developing or managing assertiveness in partnerships, dealing with a little tension, the impact other people have on your decision making process, that type of thing – are highlighted for that year.

If you have Pluto in your 7th house, then themes like power, struggles, isolation and transformation maybe highlighted that year.

I hope it makes sense, use this for both, your time lord and the ruler of your profected house: Sun: Vitality, Identity, Ego

Self-expression, leadership, creativity, purpose, individuality, confidence, recognition

Moon: Emotions, Nurturing, Instincts

Emotions, intuition, habits, home life, family, subconscious, nurturing, cycles, forming close relations

Mercury: Communication, Intellect, Movement

Communication, thinking, learning(even life lessons, or about yourself), travel, writing, siblings, negotiation, information, introspection

Venus: Love, Beauty, Harmony

Relationships, attraction, beauty, art, values, pleasure, social life, harmony, indulgence

Mars: Action, Desire, Conflict

Energy, drive, ambition, aggression, initiative, sexuality, competition, courage, assertiveness

Jupiter: Growth, Expansion, Wisdom

Growth, expansion, luck, optimism, philosophy, higher learning, travel, abundance, generosity

Saturn: Structure, Discipline, Limitation

Structure, discipline, responsibility, limitations, authority, perseverance, time, maturity, career

Uranus: Innovation, Change, Rebellion

Innovation, rebellion, change, freedom, individuality, technology, unexpected events, unconventionality

Neptune: Dreams, Intuition, Mysticism

Dreams, intuition, mysticism, spirituality, illusion, compassion, imagination, escapism, idealism

Pluto: Transformation, Power, Depth

Transformation, power, depth, rebirth, intensity, secrets, control, regeneration, shadow self

Chiron: Healing, Wounds, Growth

Healing, wounds, inner growth, wisdom, teaching, mentoring, empathy, vulnerability, self-discovery

PLANETS RULED BY AGE Ages 1 to 4 of your life is ruled by the Moon. Ages 5 to 14 is ruled by Mercury. Ages 15 to 22 is ruled by Venus. Ages 22 to 41 is ruled by the Sun. Ages 42 to 56 is ruled by Mars. Ages 57 to 68 is ruled by Jupiter. Ages 68 to death is ruled by Saturn.

I hope I explained it well, combining your profected house, time lord and the planets in the profected house and the ruling planet of your age, you can get some information about the themes and effects you might be experiencing in your life and use it as a guide for your betterment.

support me on ko-fi :)

Remember, nothing is bad/challenging and you always have free will for the most part of your life and you dont have to subscribe to things you dont wish for, all the best<33

If you want, leave suggestions and feedback for the next post in asks, and comments :)

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painted-bees · 26 days ago

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“It isn't for you, it's because of you.

Because of you, I can finally do this for myself.

Because I want to.

Because I trust you with it.

It's all because of you,

and I'm so fucking thankful.”

-- [Jan 28th, 2014] The weather had conspired against him.

Or perhaps it was trying to protect him. Either way, the cold snap that washed over Vancouver on this sunny January afternoon was perfectly timed to ruin the months of careful planning, frivolous spending, and emotional safeguarding Raf had done in preparation for the performance today. It was as though the sky had opened up to release every breath of warm air that the previous weeks of relentless overcast had, until now, valiantly sealed in.

To make matters worse, Raf couldn’t turn to Margie for consolation about it. She didn’t know anything about a performance happening today, and it needed to stay that way until at least 6 pm. Her distractible nature had been a huge blessing for him during the past long months of preparation and rehearsals, and this was the last day he'd have to work behind her back. He was thankful for that. Tess had whisked her out into town this morning under the pretence of finding a suitable birthday present to ‘surprise’ him with. It was an effective ruse to keep Margie busy and secreted away from him while he fulfilled the final preparations for the day’s event.

He was half expecting to arrive at Jack Poole Plaza only to be met by an unfortunate orchestra representative tasked with dispensing the bad news of postponement due to the unusual cold. Instead, the venue was abuzz with activity, warmed by the familiar din of pre-performance energy. Or rather–it was the arrangement of outdoor heaters that kept the temperature surprisingly manageable in key locations across the venue. That was one of the expenditures Raf had considered “a frivolous necessity” when he committed to it, and it was certainly paying dividends today.

“Raf!” The sound of Nels’ voice as he approached was every bit as warm as the heaters. “Boy, you sure picked a day, didn’t you?” As the older man closed the distance, one of his large hands clapped down on Raf’s shoulder with an amicable jostle.

“Well," Raf said, "no one called to postpone.” Genuine disbelief coloured his tone in a manner that wholly undermined his attempt at a half-joke.

Nels barked a laugh, “Bah! Over a little cold? No chance. But snow?” He held up a finger, “One snowflake hits that pavement and the whole city' in shut down” He looked up at the sky, wincing against the sunlight. “Thankfully not a problem today!”

Raf offered a small smirk that bordered on a grimace. “It’s not great for the instruments, though.”

“Cold feet?”

“Cold everything.”

Nels held him with a gentle but uncompromising gaze. “Train’s already moving, kiddo. Can’t stop now.”

Turning his eyes towards the stage with a relenting sigh, Raf began making strides across the vast concrete venue towards it. “Outdoor concert in the middle of winter was a terrible idea. Why didn’t anyone stop me?”

“I recall there was an attempt,” Nels said, “But, ah…You had a clear vision, a convincing argument, and a lot of money.”

“Yeah, I’m also insane. Nels, I hate crowds, I hate public events. Why am I hosting one?”

“You love the audience and,” Nels’ hand found Raf’s shoulder again, halting him before the stairs leading up to the left side of the temporary stage set-up. “You love Margie. That’s the kind of insanity that drove all this. She adores this sort of thing. She’s gonna be beside herself. Inconsolable, even. And you know that. That’s why you’re doing this.”

“Mmh.” That was a swing and a miss, but Raf had no desire to engage in the pedantry dissecting his own mercurial motivations, and so, he was content to leave it there.

Recognizing the full stop in Raf’s voice, Nels clapped his hands together and led the way onto the stage. “Well-! Things here are looking and sounding well on our end. Security’s all set. It’s not going to be a flood of people all at once but, as you can see,” he gestured out towards the plaza, “We’ve already got a population of curious loiterers. We’re wrapping up the last of the sound tests. Speaking of–!”

Nels turned his attention to the microphone set up at the front, centre of the stage. Raf intended to follow, but paused at the sight of Naomi making her way over from the other side. She made he way in brisk strides, holding out her open palms in a gesture both of greeting and surprise.

“Ooh, you showed up!”

Raf regarded her with a lopsided smirk and a curt, upward nod of his chin. “Was I not supposed to?”

She rubbed her hands together and squeezed the fingertips of one hand in the palm of her other. “Dunno, Ephrem. How you feelin' about it?”

“Trying not to,” Raf admitted. “But it’s mostly fine. I’ve got Kill Bill sirens going off in my head a bit. First time I’ve ever managed something like this myself, but I am managing, so–” With a Super Mario-pitched voice, and a weak upward pump of his fist, he concluded, “Wahoo.” An aptly appropriated Margie-ism.

“Man, shut the fuck up. You ain’t managing nothin’ yourself this time, either.” She scoffed loudly. “C’mon I ain’t out here at bitch o’clock in balls degree weather doin’ this shit just so you can tell me you ain’t got no help. Be for real.”

“That’s not what I–”

“I know,” she gave him a playful scowl before throwing her hands up in an exaggerated gesture of arrest, “I’m playin’! Jeez, Eph, control your temper, chill. Damn, why you always gotta be yellin’?”

“Boy, I’m going tah rip your face off.” His stiff posture, quirked eyebrow, and uncharacteristic transatlantic accent delivered his threat with all the seriousness he intended.

“And ruin your manicure? Girl, you’ll cry.”

Their short drama play ended with a defusing snort of laughter shared between the two of them.

Thumbing her nose with a sniff, Naomi attempted some honest reassurance. “I think you did a pretty good job, all things considered. Hired the right folks for certain.” She grinned at the compliment as she paid it to herself.

From their place in the corner of the stage, they both looked out over the set-up and across the venue. The stage itself was populated mostly with venue staff and Hi-Note technicians working in collaboration with each other to make sure things sounded great, looked great, and that no one would kill themselves on any of the countless cables that snaked across the floor.

Beyond the stage, the last of the temporary barriers and crowd management measures were being organised and installed. Raf himself didn’t know what to expect in that regard, and had no option but to trust that the venue staff knew what they were doing. At the very least, a free admission orchestral event wasn’t new to them. One such concert had been hosted here in the summer, and just like that one, this event was advertised months in advance to draw out as large a crowd as possible. But he hadn’t been the one to advertise it. In fact, he had explicitly forbidden any mention of him or of a vocal performance at all. No, this was advertised in a manner similar to the summer’s concert. And indeed, the programme would be much the same–but it would end with his performance.

Even as the staff set about their tasks, a budding population of curious doddlers seemed content to wander and wait around for something exciting to begin. It was a lot to hold in his head, and there were countless variables he had no control over–many of which relied on the cooperation of other people. Complete strangers. An overwhelming number of things could and likely would go wrong, and anything that went right would only do so thanks to luck. At least–that’s what his gut told him.

It would be the first concert he’d perform, without Margie, in almost a decade. It would be the first performance without her that centred him since…

Since Ephrem Records. A chill unrelated to the cold forced him to shudder visibly, and he steadied himself with an automatic, curtly huffed sigh. This was not that. He had stared that beast directly in the eyes, he had walked into its horrifying, revenous maw and–

He came back home. Safe. Sound. Completely unscathed.

It–that–Ephrem Records and the nightmares within it had no control over him anymore. Though it had tried, it couldn’t keep him. That cage door had fallen off its hinges and would no longer close on him. It was a freedom he had had never in his life known before.

Beside him, Naomi had turned her gaze to watch him. “Remember after Lacey ditched? How you said you weren’t never gonna get on stage for anyone anymore?”

“Mmhm.”

“You been cancellin’ shit all the time because you just ain’t gonna perform if you don’t wanna.”

“Mmhm.”

“But you’re here. Today. Like--your birthday’s tomorrow. You didn't wanna take it easy for that?”

Raf turned his head to cast a very slight, wry smile down towards her. “Mmh, nah.”

Her eyes lit up under the validating glow of his expression. “Nooo, see! I was gonna ask who you doin’ this for, really? But that shit eating grin–” a cackle punctuated her sentence. “This ain't for Margie. Is it?”

Naomi’s laugh infected him well enough to let out a small snort of laughter all his own. “She'd hate it if it was. No, I just--wanted to see for myself if...Uh. This wouldn't kill me."

"I've been sayin', too, Margie ain't about seeing you freak out for her!" Naomi clasped her hands together and dipped forward in an elated gesture. "Well, you don't look like you're dying."

"Yeah--I don' think I will. "

–

“Raf’s impossible to shop for. I don’t know what we were expecting to find.” Margie's conclusion arrived at the end of a long day spent following Tess around the whole, wide city in search of a gift for a man who placed very little value on material wealth. “There’s nothing we could buy that he couldn't afford himself. And it’s hard to put proper thought into it when it’s so last minute.” There was tired frustration in her voice.

Savouring a strawberry frappe through a bent straw, Cortes remained wholly unbothered by the state of affairs. With a shrug, her free hand gestured to sign a sloppily composed, “Raf’s birthday gift can be all the friends we met along the way.”

Margie let out one of her conversationally reflexive little giggles. “Yeah, yeah! All none of them.”

The sun had already begun to sink beneath the city skyline, and in its wake the clear sky was turning a shade of deep indigo. An already frigid day was turning into an even colder night. Too cold to be out walking along the seawall. Tess’s choice of a blended iced beverage was nothing short of absurd but, just like the failure of their gift-hunting quest, the freezing cold seemed to have no ill effect on Cortes whatsoever. While Margie’s breath hung like a ghost in the air and caused an uncomfortable moisture to collect on the fraying filaments of her scarf, Tess suffered no such inconvenience. Margie was bundled for warmth, but Tess wore her winter layers only for the aesthetic of it.

Without looking at her, Tess signed with languid gestures, “We should probably head home, now. I’m getting bored.”

Margie might have agreed, but something else tugged her attention. She grabbed Tess's arm to halt her. “Hang on, shh!”

A pause.

A swell of string and brass carried itself on the chill ocean breeze. It wasn’t uncommon to hear music playing from the various shops and storefronts that lined the city streets, especially during the holiday months. But…

“Does that sound live to you?”

Tess appeared to listen for a moment longer before shrugging.

“It’s coming from the plaza.”

Another shrug from Tess preceded an inquiring forefinger flopped with mild indifference towards the stairs leading out of the park, up towards the convention centre.

Margie nodded and shook Tess’s arm in her grip. “Yeah, I just wanna looksee!”

With one last resigned shrug, Cortes allowed Margie to lead the way forward.

As they crested the wide staircase, the plaza greeted them with an array of bright, warm lights and a buzz of activity. Margie immediately b-lined to read one of the standing signs that named the event to her.

“Wait, no! What? This was today?” She turned a baleful gaze up at Tess. “We missed the summer one, so I was gonna tell Raf about this one. But I thought it was like–next month!” She gestured with both arms towards the banner sign. “Free concert! VMO! Tess! I’m so upset!” Dropping her arms to her side, Margie slouched under the weight of her disappointment. “This woulda been a perfect birthday gift for him. Why did I think it was in February?”

Tess’s hand came down gently upon the top of Margie’s head in a placating pat-pat. At the same time, an unfamiliar man’s voice addressed them from the side.

“Excuse me, Ma’am?”

Glancing up, Margie watched the man approach, well dressed for the weather with a bright yellow and black jacket. “Genesis Security” was emblazoned in bold, white letters across the breast and shoulder. He wasn’t addressing her. The man’s gaze was locked firmly onto Tess.

“Ma’am,” he repeated, “I've been instructed to show you to your seat, if you’ll please follow me.”

“Woah...” Margie watched the guy's back as he began to lead the way forward through the plaza. "How does this keep happening to you?" It seemed that no matter where Tess went, there was always something special waiting for her. People treated her like a rock star, honored by her mere presence. Apparently, this was just another such instance.

Shrug. Tess tapped on the shoulder of the security guard and locked eyes with him before pointing to Margie, then to herself, and then back to Margie again.

With a nod, the guard responded, “I don't see why not. But let's hurry. Show's half done by now.”

The guard made haste, Tess kept in stride, and Margie was forced to shuffle quite swiftly in order to keep up. As she did so, her hands fumbled around in her pockets until they found her phone.

“I should call Raf, maybe he can make it in time if he’s still at Hi-Note!” Neither Tess nor the guard in front of her said anything to discourage the thought, and so Margie hit his name in on quick-dial and waited for him to pick up.

Instead, she was immediately met with the robotic voice of his service provider.

With a small groan of disappointment, Margie lowered her phone to send a text message, muttering under her breath, “Why is your phone turned off, you wiener?”

The two of them were led through the well populated venue towards the very frontmost row of seating, where Tess was presented with two vacant seats.

“Oh,” Margie took her seat next to Tess, “Raf wouldn’t have been able to sit with us, anyways.”

Perhaps sensing the tinge of melancholy in her voice, Tess reached over to wrap an arm around Margie’s shoulders and pulled her in close. With a sigh, Margie nestled herself cozily against Tess and made the conscious effort to shift her attitude and appreciate the free show with her ever patient girlfriend. It was thanks to Tess that she got to see this performance at all–and with that thought, Margie was able to replace her disappointment for failing their day’s objective with thankfulness towards the present moment.

The orchestra played an enjoyable, eclectic selection of compositions, most of which Margie couldn’t name. Perhaps the only one she properly recognized was the Star Wars theme, which stood out somewhat comedically against the others–all of which she had assumed to be classical pieces.

The final piece–or rather, what was presented as the final piece–was no doubt Tchaikovsky. She knew Tchaikovsky. Just…not well enough to name his compositions. But this was definitely him! To her ears, everything sounded beautiful. Had Raf been there, he might have identified nuances in the performance, both good and bad, highlighting them to her so that she might be able to notice them, too. There was a shared enjoyment between them for that kind of thing. In contrast, Tess was a remarkably stoic and quiet person to sit with when it came to anything involving live music. Her enormous, dark eyes stared unblinking as she listened; transfixed by the intricate braiding of sounds. Her long, lithe fingers twirled themselves repeatedly into the stray curls of Margie’s hair. It was a tiny, thoughtless, but comfortingly intimate gesture. Despite the best efforts of the late January weather, Magritte felt remarkably warmed.

Tchaikovsky came to an end, and both she and Tess contributed to the roar of applause that persisted even as the musicians stood to leave, abandoning their instruments on the stage.

Keeping with the applause, Margie leaned towards Tess’s ear. “Sit tight, there’s prolly gonna be a–oop, yep!”

Her statement was confirmed before she even had time to finish saying it, as the musicians quickly emerged to retake their seats on the stage. As they did, Margie stopped clapping, waiting to hear if their encore was a song she could identify. As the rest of the applause died down, two additional figures took position onto the stage; a trio of previously absent musicians took positions on the stage. Or, at least–if they had been present previously, they were on entirely different instruments, now. Three electric guitars, one of which was a bass.

Margie squinted at the rightmost guitarist and her bumblebee-yellow Kramer. “Oh, woah–is that Naomi? Tess, you see her!?” She couldn’t help but pick up an applause with an exhilarated whoop at seeing a friendly face among the cast of talented strangers.

It worked to catch Naomi’s attention, and Margie was rewarded with an acknowledging little wave, bright smile, and a thumbs up.

Clasping her hands together, Margie leaned back in her seat with a delighted giggle. “That’s so cool, this is gonna be so good!”

A blanket of quiet settled upon the venue, and after a moment's pause, the orchestra’s instruments sprang to life once more. The number opened with a swelling whirl of notes that immediately swept Margie’s imagination into the realm of Broadway romance. And then–

She heard his voice.

A pleasing falsetto that wove itself beautifully into the airy strings, Margie knew who she was hearing before he had even walked onto the stage. One note was all it took.

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I got inspired to post cringe, I hope you like it lmaooo About a year prior to these events, Margie and Tess had accompanied Raf to a very emotionally turbulent trip to Monaco. It wasn't a vacation, and it wasn't what any of them would describe as particularly enjoyable...Perhaps some day, we'll learn more about what happened there and why he went. One thing that did happen, on a very desperate whim, is that Raf had asked Margie to marry him. No real proposal--something asserted on the spot, motivated more by fear than anything else. Margie said yes, of course--but only on the condition that he ask her again once they were settled back home in Vancouver. She said--promised--she wasn't going to bring it up again unless he brought it up first; that there was no pressure for him to repeat the question once he was feeling comfortable and secure again. It's just--he seemed too emotionally compromised for Margie to really accept the proposal as one that was offered to her with soundness of mind. And so--to ensure that it was something he actually meant--she would forget it was asked at all, until he brought it up again on his own accord upon their return to Canada. No need to any special occasion, now jewelry, none of that--just ask the same way he did in Monaco...but without the undercurrent of panic coloring his judgement. They returned from Monaco safe and sound, and neither Margie nor Raf breathed a word about the Monaco proposal. Margie assumed Raf forgot--or perhaps he had come to his better senses and no longer felt like his well being and safety relied on lawfully locking down their relationship together. As she had expected would be the case. On the other hand, Raf had waited two months to see if Margie would bring it up at all, or if she'd stick to her promise and release him from the obligation of following through. To him, it seemed like she had completely forgotten; ss though he had never asked her to marry him at all. Unbeknownst to her, he hadn't changed his mind. The fact that she wouldn't so much as even allude to it for his sake only imbued further confidence in his decision. She had been with him through hell and high water, she was there in all the ways she promised to be, she gave him the space and the grace he needed, carried him through some of his lowest days, and kept him safe when he was certain no one in the world ever could. She loved him during his worst days, and shouldered his worst behaviors only because she loved being with him. She never asked him for anything spectacular. She never wished to see him spend the limit of his resources on her. She only ever wished to enjoy things with him--and his enjoyment was a critical part of that desire. Over the several years they had been together, one thing became abundantly clear; Margie deserved every good thing he could grant her. Margie could be trusted to receive his best efforts and his greatest gifts without ruin. And for the first time in his life, he wanted to give those to someone--to her. Because it felt right. Because he'd love doing so. Because she fucking deserved it. Performances had become pretty comfortable for Raf by this point. He, Margie, and Tess had been doing them on the semi-regular before certain events dragged him back to Monaco. Even his post performance PTSD episodes--while still present--were far more manageable than they had ever been. He no longer plagued with week-long emotional lows that greatly overshadowed the euphoria of a great performance. Things just felt...more balanced.

Enough so that Raf decided his proposal to Magritte would, itself, be a performance. Planned and organized by him, with the help of Hi-Note. If he could organize an perform a concert as a gift for someone he loved--without succumbing to abject terror and paranoia at any point during the months of preparation--well... That kind of freedom over himself would be the best gift he's ever received. And so--he planned the performance/proposal for his birthday. Margie watched the last half of the orchestra concert with Tess, having no idea that Raf would be the encore act. Tess, of course, had been in on it as a collaborator. She knew the guard would address her for the seating--they had met prior as part of the preparations. She and Raf both knew that Margie wouldn't find anything suspect in the fact that Tess would be spontaneously offered some kind of V.I.P seating. Tess's ridiculous, ambiguous "celebrity status" had basically become a meme between them at this point. It wasn't unusual... It was all planned. And everything played out pretty well according to that plan. Once Raf too the stage, Tess pulled Margie out of her seat and led her to the stage (exchanging a thumbs-up with Nels along the way). Margie followed along in good fun. By this point, she knew shenanigans were afoot--and slipped into her role very agreeably once Nels confirmed that, yes, she's expected on the stage. She was happy to play along.

The dance she and Raf "perform" wasn't any choreographed thing. Rather, it's the same kind of lackadaisical dancing they'd often do in their livingroom at home haha. And then...there was no more performance...just overwhelm and joy and a lot of love...and Kirby rings lmaooo which made her even MORE overwhelmed. And then the rest of the night was just one big overjoyed, emotional blur. Okay, I've typed too much...this is all very silly, but I made it so you can have the whole bunch of it! Bonus: The next morning, they woke up with a terrible cold...and spent the entire day recovering in bed lmao

(happy birthday, Raf lmao).

#Hi-Note #Rafael #Magritte #Tess #I'M CRINGE BUT I AM SO FREEEE #Youtube

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celestialtarot11 · 8 months ago

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Astrology Observations 🧎‍♂️‼️

Hi friends! Today we’re just doing a general post for the astrological signs 🤭✨ Please enjoy and share! Your feedback is always appreciated.

Earth sign energy is heavy and dark, not negative, but they are very connected to their roots, ancestors and past lives. They carry lots of baggage from the past to heal in this lifetime, and thus may feel they lived through many timelines and cycles. They can feel similarly to Scorpio that experienced tons of transformations.

Libra moons can be indecisive in relationships, not because they have a bad sign placement but because they care a lot about people’s feelings. Sometimes too much to their detriment. They’d rather keep the peace than to rock the boat, but that’s what causes tension. Libra moons just need more confidence and security in their choices, and focus on themselves 🧘

Cancer Venus from a young age experienced misunderstandings from the people around them. Cancer venus wants a close community and people who understand their emotions, but in an emotionally unavailable society they can feel neglected and lonely. Its why cancer venus develops walls to protect their heart. They still care, but it takes them a long time to open up.

Virgos remember little details of everyone and hope they can do the same for them. They essentially give what they need and Virgos need attention and someone who creates quality time.

Gemini venus crave communication and mental stimulation in their connections. They love to learn and interact with people. Gemini Venus can also experience lots of isolation or periods of alone time because they aren’t finding the right people to connect to. They’d rather be alone than to have surface level interaction and filler conversations.

Leo + Aquarius pairing in a chart can indicate the native is truly unique and unforgettable. They strive so much to be themselves that it inspires others to do so. Some may even idolize the native, and others can get jealous because the native has qualities they wish they had. The native basically inspires others to get a personality 💅🏻

Mercury 8h can be so funny. We can get picky about what personal info to leave in the outside world. Even the idea of leaving behind our birthday info can irk us 😭 why? I think being in the spotlight or being perceived can be difficult for us.

Adding onto that, mercury 8h can channel spirits, occult knowledge, spirit guides, etc. when they tap in, they TAP in. They did not come to play 😍 All they need is a good meditation sesh and they’re good to go 🧘 all powered up.

Jupiter 8h can go through so many endings and terrible situations and still somehow come out stronger and better. They take their healing and growth seriously, and I think Jupiter 8h people have big hearts, so they always reconnect with that energy which is what carries them 😤

Cancer + Leo in a chart makes someone mystical, ethereal, private, yet somehow well known. There will always be an aspect to these natives to hide to protect themselves, and yet their Leo side will try to guide them out their comfort zone.

Aries rising females always knew who they were since birth 🤭 they could’ve photographed a lot, dressed up a lot, and it’s iconic. Since birth they knew! Aries rising females can be human rights activists too, because they have strong opinions, perspectives and believe in empowerment. Aries rising females may also be into modeling, because since a young age they were surrounded by cameras and people who thought they were beautiful ❤️

Aquarius rising children always look upset in their pictures or they have that thousand mild yard stare 😭 help #me

Sagittarius rising children always had that mischievous look on their face in every picture, or they looked incredibly angry. They had no issue letting their true selves out 😤

Pisces women tend to move far from their home town or childhood home. Lots of them have dreams of living far away from their roots. I think its to discover who they are and rebuild themselves after going through a lot. They physically need to disconnect from toxic environments to heal.

Gemini sun women are like teachers in many ways. Especially when they’ve healed a lot. They can be a teacher to the siblings around them or people. Many turn out to be motivational speakers because they have so much wisdom to share.

Thank ya’ll so much for reading 💗☮️ feel free to like comment and reblog to support the blog 🧘✨ Have a great one!

Paid Readings ✨

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ur-local-anti-hero · 7 months ago

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Speak now

James Potter x Malfoy!Reader

Summary: If the marauders are against something, its agaisnt pureblood families ideologies. Sometimes that implies to wreak havoc on a white veil occasion.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Fluff and a tiny bit of Angst. Arranged Marriage

CW: Forced Marriage, Familiar problems, talks about blood purity and blood traitors. Breaking into a weddig idk.

Word count: 2.2K

This is part of my Speak Now (Marauders’ version) collection

“So don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.

Don't wait, or say a single vow. You need to hear me out”

When you were younger you saw a fair amount of weddings. They were always presented to you as big emotional events in which two people promised eternal love to each other.

Even when you didn't know anything about love as a kid, it was no wonder that you yearned to have your own wedding once you grew up. It was a dream to have your own white dress, a beautifully decorated venue and a partner you loved so deeply you’d be willing to spend your whole life with them.

Looking back maybe you should’ve known better. The first sign should’ve been your surname. A Malfoy has expectations they have to meet, keeping the bloodline pure, for starters.

The second one should’ve been your parents’ loveless marriage, when you were younger you used to wonder why they’d married at all, now it was quite obvious.

The third and most evident should’ve been when Andromeda Black was disowned. At that time you didn’t truly understand what that entailed, and why it was such a hassle that she wanted to get married. Now you understood that the problem was not the wedding, if not the groom.

All your fantasies about the commonly named ‘Big day’ were completely shattered when your 18th birthday came, and with it a letter from your parents which contained the name of your soon to be husband. You tried to fight it, which only made your parents move the date of the wedding forward and get you out of Hogwarts, your education didn’t matter anymore to them now that your future as a housewife was inevitable. And being away from Hogwarts also meant being away from the ‘bad influences’ in your life.

Now the corset of your white dress was suffocating, you felt trapped. Looking at the mirror was like looking at someone else. The girl with lifeless eyes and heavy make-up that couldn’t hide her eyebags was supposed to be you, yet it felt like a perfectly modelated version of yourself, made to impress the high class families attending the wedding.

Narcissa’s gentle hands were bradding your hair, finishing your look before the wedding. Usually her presence was able to calm you down. Ever since she married your older brother, Lucius, her presence was regular in family gatherings and you’ve always felt some kind of kinship with her, seeking shelter on her whenever the phony and pompous encounters became too overwhelming.

You could attribute your shifted feelings towards her to the fact that she was unknowingly preparing you for eternal misery, or maybe because she was replacing the ones who you would’ve chosen as bridesmaids - there was no place for muggleborns in an event celebrating the union of two pureblood heirs -. Or even because it was her little cousin the one you were to wed.

“You look beautiful” said Narcissa once she was done with your hair.

You nodded and gave her a small thank you. However, you disagreed completely, the girl she was looking at was not you, it was your parent’s perfect daughter.

“You do look lovely, father and mother are going to be delighted” your brother’s voice came from the door, where he was leaning on. “I brought you some company” he gestured behind him.

Pandora and Dorcas stormed into the room, the former embracing you into a tight hug when they spotted you. Lucius and Narcissa left the room.

“How are you holding up?” Pandora asked as soon as the door closed behind Lucius and Narcissa. Her arms were still holding you tightly, Dorcas standing behind her.

You shrugged at her, not being able to talk due the knot in your throat and the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror.

Pandora stepped out of the hug and stood next to Dorcas, who had yet to speak.

“Evan and Barty are with Regulus, I swear I never thought I would see him in a tux” said Dorcas, trying to make conversation. The thought of Regulus being in the same situation as you didn’t make you feel better, the knot in your throat was getting tighther by the second. You promised to yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, to be honest you thought you had run out of tears days ago.

“Sirius is here too” Pandora was trying to distract you from the wedding. If she was being honest with herself there was nothing they could do to make you feel better. But maybe knowing that your best friend was out there could help a little.

That made you finally look away from the mirror, a small wave of hope cursing through you. If Sirius was here it meant that James could be too. In the eyes of your family his family’s name was not good enough for yours, but maybe it was enough for him to be a guest.

Maybe it was selfish to wish for him to be there when you knew how much it would hurt him, but you needed to talk to him, he was the only one who could actually comfort you right now, the only presence that would make everything feel normal again. You yearned to feel his touch against your skin and his lips against yours, even if it was for one last time, as a farewell.

“Is he… Is James here?” you spoke for the first time.

The answer was clear in the pitiful look they gave you even before Pandora replied with a soft ‘no’.

You don’t know what did it, if the look in the faces of your friends or the fact that you would never see James again, but tears started rolling down your face. In seconds you were being embraced by Pandora again, and Dorcas’ hand was wiping away your tears.

“It’s okay, you are going to be okay” Pandora didn’t believe her own words, but there was little she could do to calm you down and you both knew it.

There was a knock on the door and your dad’s voice came from the other side “Y/N, it’s time”

Pandora gave you a squeeze before letting you go from the hug. They both left the room, not without giving you a forced smile.

“Oh, merlin” you said to yourself as soon as you were left alone, going back to the mirror, you wiped the few tears that were left on your face, and tried to fix the smudged make-up around your eyes with your fingers. You didn’t want to give your parents the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected you.

Once you looked mildly presentable again you exited the room. Your father was waiting for you and he offered you his arm to lead you towards the venue.

You could see the whole venue from the end of the aisle. The green and black motives contrasted beatifully with the white flowers decorating the aisle and the top of the altar. The guests were placed in black chairs at both ends of the aisle.

You weren’t brave enough to lift your glaze from the ground, knowning that you wouldn’t see the love of your life waiting for you as you had dreamt since you were a kid. The heavy veil of your dress made your steps slow and lethargic.

It was not until you were halfway down the aisle that you gathered enough courage to finally look at the man in front of you. Instead of the boy with unruly curly brown hair and eyes filled with love, there standing was Regulus, his black hair slicked back and eyes drowned by the same defeated look you wore.

Once you reached his side everything went in a blur, all you remember is him taking your hands into his and the officiant talking.

“If anyone has any objection, speak now or forever hold your peace”

You were really going insane because you swore you saw James standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a tuxedo and with his hand up in the air.

“I oppose!” His voice was loud and clear, your eyes widened.

All the guests' eyes went to his figure and several surprised gasps were heard. Maybe you were not hallucinating.

───✥───

If Fleamont Potter ever found out how James was using his inherited cloak of invisivility he’d be horrified, or maybe oddly proud of his son.

Not even James thought he would ever sneak into a highly patrolled wedding on a common Tuesday, but honestly if someone had told him a year ago he’d be doing this he wouldn’t be surprised.

Sneaking in a wedding filled with pureblood families and slytherin students was the perfect setup for a Marauders prank. However, what would have surprised him would’ve been the reason for interrupting a white veil occasion. Dating a Malfoy was something he hadn’t expected to ever do, but you had gotten past all his defenses with your kind and bright personality that proved to be so different from your family’s pretentious ways.

Therefore, he was now standing on the aisle you had walked minutes ago. He had a perfect view of you and Regulus from his stance, your white dress was gorgeous, and your hair was neatly done. If it weren’t for your puffy and bloodshot eyes, and the obvious defeated look in your face, a look that had no place in a wedding, he could almost believe this was a normal marriage ceremony.

When you had received the letter from your parents you had been inconsolable, and rightfully so. James had tried everything to stop the wedding, he even went as far as asking your parents for their blessing and to be the one you'd wed instead of the Black heir. Turned out to be useless as his family had been marked as blood traitors for eternity.

But James isn't known for giving up easily, and the Marauders were not going to let an opportunity to cause havoc pass by.

With the promise of being on his best behavior, Sirius had convinced his parents to attend the wedding as a guest, acting as a mole for his friends' plans. Remus and Lily were outside the venue with their ride home -a couple of broomsticks they borrowed from Hogwarts' supply closet.

And the last part of the plan, and its success rested on James' shoulders.

The preacher spoke 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' James smirked, that was his cue. It was on.

James took off his invisibility cloak and without a single trace of shame or shyness in his voice James stated loudly "I oppose!"

James would've loved to stop for a moment to memorize the looks of complete horror in the faces of the guests, but he had to be fast and make total use of the element of surprise.

Without hesitation James sprinted towards the altar. He could see the way your brother had stood up and pointed his wand at him, his spell being intercepted by Sirius' expelliarmus spell.

As soon as James made it to the altar chaos erupted from everyone in the venue, he could make out the shouts of your parents and some spells that were being intercepted by yours and James' friends.

At the sight of James Regulus let your hands go, he raised his arms in defeat and left the altar without much hassle.

"Gentleman" James greeted Regulus' groomsmen, Barty and Evan who were just as stunned as everyone, all they could do was nod in acknowledgement to James, not even trying to interfere.

"Hi, love" he was finally looking at you, your eyes were wide with surprise and tears were gathered in your waterline. James took your hands in one of his and the other was raised to stroke your cheek.

“James what- how-” you were completely astonished, and unable to formulate a single phrase. You knew your boyfriend loved you, and the lengths he would go to prove it, but you would have never guessed he’d be willing to break into your wedding ceremony. He was always proving you wrong.

“Hey Peter, mate, it’s your moment to shine” Following james’ words a rat came out of his pants’ pocket.

And suddenly Peter was standing in front of you. He pushed the appalled officiant slightly to the side and took his place.

Peter cleared his throat before speaking “Do you, James Fleamont Potter, take Y/N Malfoy as your wife?”

“I do”

“Do you, Y/N Malfoy, take James Fleamont Potter as your husband?”

You could hardly mutter a low “I do” before Peter spoke again

“I declare you husband and wife. You might kiss the bride”

James didn’t hesitate for a moment. To add dramatism he spun you around and dipped you, holding your weight with his arm. And without waiting for another second he kissed you, sweet and slow, conveying all his love for you with that gesture.

When you became breathless you broke the kiss and looked at James straight into his beautiful eyes, which only show deep adoration. “I love you” you mouthed to him, which made his eyes sparkle with joy and a wide grin to break into face.

He took you in his arms bridal style and walked down the aisle. You coudln’t even care about the chaos and spells that were aimed your way, all you could look at was James.

And as he muttered “I love you too, Miss Potter” you knew he’d do anything to prove his love for you.

Author's note: This one is of my faves of the collection ngl, James is my soft spot Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo

#marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #marauders #marauders era #james potter #marauders fic #james potter x reader #james x reader #james x you #james x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter hurt/comfort #james potter fic #james potter x yn #james potter fanfic

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papayadays · 7 days ago

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🎻 102 + Lando please xx

a/n: ahhhh sasha!! ilysm because i was just so inspired for this 😚

102 — night changes by one direction

“does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes?”

you and lando stepped out the packed venue, hands intertwined. as you two made your way in the throng of people, you were stopped by quite a few people who wanted to talk to the driver’s championship runner up. of course, it was expected at the fia end of year gala. you made sure to dress nice for today, wearing a red dress that had been around for a few years, but was one of your favorites. before you had left, lando was dangerously close to ruining all of your makeup, claiming your dress as the cause.

now, as you two walked out into the cool evening air, the night was wrapping up. lando’s fifth season in f1 was wrapping up. you’d been by his side since his first race and you couldn’t be prouder of how far he’d come. all the highs and lows, you’d seen it all. but it still didn’t quite sink in that it had already been five seasons. five years.

you glanced down at your dress, slightly self-conscious. five years you and lando had been dating. but that was a long time to stay with the same person, especially for a global celebrity with countless of people vying for a chance. you couldn’t help but feel like maybe lando would start to get sick of you, or that his feelings for you would fade over time. it was silly, but with all that time, you felt that you were holding him back in a small sense.

“hey, the gala’s over, no need to fuss over your dress,” lando chuckled, pulling you from your thoughts as he lead you to his car. once you two were in the more secluded area of the parking lot, lando grinned, adding, “and plus, you look beautiful in that dress.”

you smiled, getting into the passenger seat as lando started the car. as the car passed by buildings and towns and parks, your eyes stayed fixed on the moon, casting a glow inside the dim car. the windows were down and the breeze tousled your hair as you tried to stop it from flying. but as you reached a red light, lando didn’t think he had seen a more beautiful sight.

your eyes flitted to the moon once more, mind wandering to all the times you had looked at the moon before, thinking of lando. if only you knew how many times he had done the same. you felt lando take your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze. “lan?” you asked.

“yeah?” he responded, eyes still on the road.

“i’ve been thinking, and it’s already your fifth season,” you said softly. “isn’t it crazy just how fast everything changes?”

lando grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. the mere action made you blush despite all the years being with him. “i wouldn’t have it any other way, love,” he murmured. “and we’re not going to change.”

you turned to look at him. “no?”

“no, of course not,” lando replied, so confidently that hope surged in your chest. “even if everything else is changing, me and you won’t. we’ve made it this far - five whole years. and i can’t wait for the next five. and more. y’know why?”

“why?” you asked, playing along.

“because i love you,” lando said simply, and it made your heart flutter.

you squeezed his hand. “i love you too, lan.” with a smile on your lips, you turned your gaze back to the night sky, content.

joyce's birthday bash! 😽

#😽 joyce's birthday celebration #sasha <33 #papaya writes #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x y/n #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #mclaren #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #asks #papayadays

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thedensworld · 7 months ago

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Stupid Cupid | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader

Genre: fluff, love at first sight

Summary: You must be the reason why he's been nervous for tonight's event. There must be something that Cupid has been doing.

Author note: Happy birthday to the charming man, Kim Mingyu! You deserve the world, and I can't wait to see your amazing work and improvements in the future. Thanks to your mother for raising such a gentleman and kind son. Thank you for being born and setting such high standards for men. I can't stop falling in love with you. Every girl needs man like you mingooooooos🥰

Mingyu raised his hand and placed it on his chest, exhaling deeply, which caught the attention of his diligent manager who was navigating them to the venue. Despite Mingyu's seasoned experience with fashion events on an international level, his heart seemed to thump twice as fast for this particular occasion.

"You nervous?!" His manager's surprised tone rang out, to which Mingyu could only chuckle, adjusting his suit and shirt sleeves.

Mingyu shot his manager a look via the rearview mirror that said, "Don't ask me that question. Because I am, and I'm trying hard to pretend I'm not."

Closing his eyes, Mingyu silently thanked his manager when he switched the playlist to a more calming one, silently praying that his heart would follow suit and calm down too.

Once Mingyu entered the event, nothing particularly eventful occurred besides the incessant flashlights popping here and there as he made his way into the venue. Guided by professionals, much like previous events he'd attended, Mingyu found himself experiencing the same routine. Yet, despite the familiarity, his heart continued to pound.

"Mingyu, can we take a photo?" a voice interrupted his tour of the venue, and Mingyu nodded, obliging the request before taking a moment to rest and engage with other guests.

Offering his best smile, Mingyu's attention suddenly shifted as he noticed a figure in a stunning red wine bodycon dress making her way towards him. Though the person thanked Mingyu, he found himself momentarily speechless, captivated by her confidence and the radiant smile she shared while conversing with the director.

"This is Kim Mingyu, you might already know him," the director said, introducing Mingyu to you.

Suddenly, Mingyu felt like he was malfunctioning, barely able to raise his hand to accept the handshake as the world seemed to slow down. His focus was stolen away by your face, your eyes, and the charming sound of your voice as you introduced yourself. He knew you, but he hadn't realized just how attractive you were.

"Y/n and I worked together while she was filming her last movie," the director continued.

Mingyu barely heard the director's words, offering only nods as his senses were consumed by your presence. You looked breathtaking in person, and he didn't mean that you were unphotogenic.

"Yeah... I shot an ad with Seungcheol, Mingyu's member," you added.

Mingyu cursed Seungcheol in his head for gatekeeping you from him all this time.

"I'll let you two talk, I have to go," the director said, excusing himself.

Mingyu and you bowed to the director before facing each other awkwardly. Mingyu couldn't believe this was happening; he felt foolish for acting so awkwardly in front of a girl. He always knew how to handle himself in front of fans, but now he was frozen.

"Seungcheol talked a lot about you," you said, breaking the silence and starting a conversation.

Mingyu nodded, trying to hide the embarrassment coloring his face. "Is it a good thing?"

"Sure, he spoke highly of you. He even said you're his favorite," you replied, offering a reassuring smile.

Mingyu silently rescinded the curse he had mentally placed on Seungcheol. But now he couldn't help but wonder about the nature of your relationship with Seungcheol. Had you two grown close? Were you something more than friends? Mingyu's mind raced with questions.

"Did you two meet regularly?" he asked, attempting to subtly probe for information without breaking the bro code.

You tilted your head before shaking it. "Not really. We met a few times, but we both got busy. He's like a brother,, really."

Mingyu raised his brows, recalling something Seungcheol had mentioned about having a new sister. It must have been you.

Mingyu felt a wave of relief wash over him at your response, glad to hear that there wasn't anything romantic between you and Seungcheol. He couldn't deny the flutter of hope that sparked within him at the realization that there might be a chance for him to get to know you better.

"I watched your movie, Exhuma. Amazing," Mingyu complimented your acting, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You looked genuinely surprised by the praise. "Thanks. It means a lot to me," you replied, a hint of humility in your tone.

"Actually, one of our members, Vernon, watched it twice just in case he missed anything," Mingyu added, a smile playing on his lips as he shared the anecdote.

You gasped in disbelief, clearly touched by the dedication. "Please convey my gratitude to him," you said earnestly.

Mingyu nodded, making a mental note to pass along your message to Vernon. "Sure," he replied with a warm smile.

"Y/n... Can we take a photo with you?" Two people approached both you and Mingyu. Mingyu gestured for them to take a photo with you, and you smiled and nodded, posing for the camera. Your wavy hair danced in the air as the photo was taken.

Once they left, Mingyu invited you to join him in watching the fireworks, a highlight of the event. He positioned you in front of him, standing closely behind you, almost touching your back. As the night grew colder in the outdoor venue, Mingyu removed his suit jacket and gently draped it over your shoulders. You looked surprised by the gesture, but a warm smile spread across your face as Mingyu gave you an assuring nod.

The tender moment between them was accompanied by the dazzling display of fireworks overhead, casting a magical glow over the scene as Mingyu's gesture of chivalry warmed both your bodies and hearts amidst the chilly night air.

"The fireworks matched the music," Mingyu whispered to you, and you nodded in agreement, turning your head to smile at him.

"This event has a great playlist, by the way," you remarked playfully, eliciting a soft laugh from Mingyu.

"The DJ deserves a raise," Mingyu joked, and you nodded in agreement, sharing a lighthearted moment.

As you two conversed, people nearby couldn't help but take pictures and record videos of the charming interaction between you and Mingyu. The ease and comfort between you both were evident, drawing the attention of the media and onlookers alike.

Mingyu looked genuinely at ease with you by his side, and vice versa, creating a captivating dynamic that sparked interest and admiration from those around them.

The aftermath of that night buzzed with chatter and speculation. Whispers circulated about how Mingyu looked at you adoringly, and how your presence seemed to perfectly complement his energy. Yet, amidst the gossip and rumors, only three individuals truly understood the dynamics at play: Mingyu, you, and probably Seungcheol.

Together, you shared a secret bond, hidden from the prying eyes of the world. Mingyu's affectionate glances and your seamless connection spoke volumes, but the truth remained known only to those within the inner circle.

Perhaps it was the work of Cupid, orchestrating the fateful encounter between you and Mingyu that night, weaving together the threads of destiny in a tapestry of love and intrigue. Whatever the case, the memories of that enchanted evening lingered, etched into the hearts of those who were fortunate enough to witness the magic unfold.

Scoups hyung: Mingyu!

Scoups hyung: You might be my favorite, but I won't let you hit on my Y/n! She's like a sister to me.

Scoups hyung: Okay, I mean, you might have a chance if Y/n says okay. But I won't let you off that easily!

Scoups hyung: I saw that cheap stare you threw at her!

Scoups hyung: We better meet after this, and you buy me soju!

Scoups hyung: I'm not kidding, okay!

Mingyu: Hyung, chill! Okay, let's meet. But not on Saturday, I have a date with Y/n already ;)

Scoups hyung: You little—

Kim Mingyu of SEVENTEEN Confirms Relationship with Actress Ji Y/n

In a surprising turn of events, Kim Mingyu, a beloved member of the popular K-pop group SEVENTEEN, has confirmed his relationship with actress Ji Y/n. The dating news has been officially acknowledged by both Pledis Entertainment, Kim Mingyu's label, and BHEntertainment, Ji Y/n's label, putting an end to speculations surrounding the couple.

In their joint announcement, Pledis Entertainment and BHEntertainment expressed their support for Kim Mingyu and Ji Y/n, emphasizing that the two artists deserve happiness in their personal lives. The agencies also urged fans to continue showing love and support for the couple as they embark on this new chapter together.

Fans of SEVENTEEN and Ji Y/n have flooded social media with messages of encouragement and well-wishes for the newly revealed couple. Many have expressed their delight at seeing their favorite idols find love and happiness, pledging unwavering support for their relationship. Fans are eagerly anticipating any updates or glimpses into their blossoming romance.

The end. Delulu is soluluヾ(＾-＾)ノ

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios #densworld🌼#seventeen series #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagine #seventeen drabbles #mingyu imagines #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu au #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagine #mingyu scenarios #mingyu recs #happy birthday mingyu🥰

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starrynights-sunnyskies · 4 months ago

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⋆*·ﾟI heard it in your silence... misa x putellas!femreader

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

when misa watches the girl she's crushed on for years retreat into her own shadows, she knows something is wrong.

or; part of the as the flowers bloom, my heart does too universe (can be read as standalone)

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

Misa’s perceptive eyes were glued to you sitting across the room as soon as your laugh reached her ears over the loud chatter and music. With your hand slapped to your mouth to hide that gorgeous smile of yours, probably out of some hidden insecurity, you leaned into your friends. You seemed to add something to one of their comments before laughter commenced again. With your eyes squeezed shut in glee and your head falling back, Misa was reminded of why she'd ever developed such a crush on you. She couldn't help but let the corners of her mouth pull into the faintest smile. Your radiant joy was contagious, if anything. And the need to be in or around your orbit was addictive to her, at best.

The little venue Alexia had rented to celebrate another year around the moon was packed with friends, family and other acquaintances and still, Misa hadn't had any trouble zeroing in on the back of your head as soon as she'd walked in. She'd recognise that very specific shade of hair colour anywhere, even in the dim lighting with overhead party lights dancing across the walls.

She had to fight to keep her expression neutral and not smile like a fool instead of focussing on the conversation going on around her. It was horrible to crush on a girl who’d never be interested in her, but what she deemed even worse, was falling for her friend’s younger sister... someone who, to make matters worse for her case, was very much taken... going by the woman glued to your side.

Y/N Putellas— youngest of the three sisters that Elí no doubt had had to reign in and keep in check throughout your childhoods. She knew some bits about you and your life, which was a surprising small amount, seeing as Alexia spoke of her sisters so often it always seemed as if they were part of the team. But perhaps Misa preferred it that way. If she'd keep you at a distance, you'd feel more like an enigma than a real person. You had always felt like someone from another world to her anyway. Someone from a world so foreign to her that she had just stuck to glances and smiles instead of starting conversations or building a friendship. She knew you wouldn't have minded. She'd watched you closely to know your face would blossom into the biggest smile when someone approached you to talk. Though your welcoming energy and open disposition made her think otherwise, Misa still felt like you were out of reach. Unattainable. Meant to admire instead of indulge with.

The first time she'd met you, properly met you, and not through passing after matches or birthday parties like these, you and Alba had tagged along to a post-season vacation with your sister. Misa’s cheeks still dusted pink at the memory of how she’d acted around you the entire week. Or rather, how she hadn't... seeing as she'd frozen up whenever you would so much as look her way, send her a smile or sit beside her during dinners to try and strike up conversation. And the fact that the heat had made you parade around in a plethora of swimwear, or without a top on to sunbathe, hadn't helped either. She’d hid the rapid beating of her heart during such occasions exceptionally well. And even if she feared that her stoicism to everything you did had turned you away from her, she hated how you would still smile at her ever so gently, as if you thought Misa was deserving of some patience to let her come out of her shell. Either that, or you were a mindreader and could see the thoughts spiralling in her head whenever you sidled by her to grab something off the kitchen counter. No, Misa knew she had hidden her crush well, otherwise she would have received a lot of teasing comments and probably a sour look or a stern talking to from Alexia.

There was part of her that felt guilty for liking a woman who wasn't available, but what was she to do? Tell her heart to shut up and pick the next best available woman to crush on instead? She knew she couldn't do that, or wouldn't, more like, even if she had full control over her emotions. Which she hadn't. Sometimes she hated that and how it meant that she couldn't spare herself from the longing. Besides, you'd never made even a single move on her showcasing you felt what she did, and she preferred to keep her ego intact instead of facing inevitable rejection by approaching a woman like you.

And even if you had been single, Misa knew she would never take her chance. If not for you being Alexia’s little sister, which should've ended her dilemma then and there, then for the fact she knew you were on a whole other level. Even with knowing you only superficially after some smalltalk and overheard conversations, she could sense you were one of a kind. There weren’t a lot of people who could look at a person with so much grace and adoration, and there sure weren't enough people who made someone feel so comfortable just by being around them. And that laughter… the giggles and the smiles. Oh, how those could brighten up anyone’s day… Misa's days, especially. Well, you were one of those few lucky people who possessed that gift, you were special, Misa was certain.

Misa had never really had a high school crush, too focused on football to spend her energy and time on losing track of her dream to get to the top. She figured this was the equivalent of that. Of fluttered stomachs after shy glances, stumbled words after locked eyes and a rapid heartbeat as she daydreamed of being near you. So, yes, a crush. She could be fine with that. Still, maybe it would have been better to have a crush on a straight girl, because then she’d know there would never be a chance and she could slowly let it go, but this was different. And even if she didn’t think about you every day, she did feel her mouth go dry and her heart beat faster each time Alexia would bring your name up, or bring you along. Maybe it would just be like that for a while, at least until Misa would properly fall in love with someone who was right for her so that her crush on you would eventually fade into the abyss.

Misa let the drink in her glass slosh around and watched how you happily chatted away with who she knew were your best friends. Alexia had talked about the four of you now and then, always with a fond smile on her face. Misa could see now why your older sister felt that way. There hadn't been a single dull moment between you, as it seemed, and no one was left out. Well, no one but one. But she wasn't part of your friend group. Not really. Maybe by association, but that was where your friends drew the line. That much was clear by the distance they'd put between them and the woman by your side.

Misa watched as you sat leaning forward, elbows on your knees and flute with champagne in your hands as you listened to one of your friends, purposefully turning your back on your girlfriend. Misa’s brows furrowed— what had she done to deserve such a treatment from you? Surely something bad, seeing as Misa was certain you'd never treat someone like that just for kicks. When she watched how your girlfriend harshly whirled you back to sit pressed against her, she clenched the glass in her hand. The conversation broke apart for a second, all eyes now on your girlfriend after what she'd pulled. One of your friends said something, quickly jumped up and playfully pulled you up, creating an easy escape from the situation, probably with the excuse to go to the restroom. Your friends that were left gave each other a look. Then, one of them turned to your girlfriend with a pointed finger and a face set in accusatory anger. Misa was eager to see what would happen next, but a hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Of course, it would be your older sister disrupting her everlasting and ongoing thoughts of you. Misa nibbled on her lip in thought, then fought out a smile and nodded.

"Come, I want to introduce you to someone. I think she's just your type."

Misa made a face but let herself get pulled off the seat nonetheless. Maybe it would be for the best to finally move on from you, no matter how serious her crush. Or maybe exactly because of that.

"I'm sure you'll like her."

"Fine," She muttered, feigning annoyance as Alexia's laugh reached her ears.

"I want to at least set one of my friends up with their once-in-a-lifetime lover."

"Is that a thing you've still got on your bucketlist?"

"Something like that, I just want to see you happy with someone," Alexia shrugged absentmindedly, smiling at people as they pressed through the crowd, but Misa stilled as they passed the door to the outside area.

With a tear stricken face and your friend's arm slung around your waist, you disappeared outside behind the doors, probably for some fresh air.

Ignore it. Don't give in. Not your business. You don't even know her. Let. It. GO.

Misa felt Alexia pull at her arm, and she pushed herself to follow her friend instead of following Alexia's little sister out. She had no business checking up on you. She needed to get you out of her head. But something was wrong, and she hated how it had made your smile disappear, the one thing she had started to let dictate her days whenever you were around. Which meant her night was ruined now. She’d seen your mood get ruined before, which typically seemed to happen whenever the group had talked about relationships and love during the vacation in Ibiza. You would turn sullen and quiet, but would mask it so perfectly that even Misa wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t already been staring at you to witness the change.

You had laughed along to the silly banter of insignificant relationship quarrels and would smile or awe on cue if someone told an adorable story about their girlfriend. But you had turned your head away to bask in the Ibizan sun as soon as you'd felt afraid you were going to be asked about your relationship. You knew some of your sister's friends had a knack for being direct, Jenni being one of them. Despite having built a great bond with her thanks to the time she'd been with Alexia, she didn't know the extent of your life nowadays. Let alone your love life. You knew she'd meant well but winced nonetheless when her familiar voice silenced the restaurant table by asking you that one dreaded question;

"How's your lover doing?" She'd said it with a playfulness to her voice that showcased how little she really knew about said lover, but she couldn't be blamed for what she didn't know. Or better, for what you hadn't told her. You hadn't told anyone though, for that matter. Not even your best friends, though they had puzzled the pieces together after little effort and had barely needed to pull the words out of you to have you admit how things were really going.

With a sharp inhale, you pulled on your mask, your face breaking out into a wide grin seconds after as you grabbed your wine glass and twirled it around, trying to stall the time by pretending to let its rich aroma fill your nostrils.

"Really great." Your voice rose, knowing it wouldn't work if you'd deadpanned it with the same pain in your tone as the pain you were feeling inside.

"She's clearly downplaying it to not make us jealous, no?" Alexia threw a chuckle at you, "They're spending all their time together nowadays. We can barely get a phonecall in or steal her away for an evening. I'm surprised she's even here." Though Alexia seemed amused, there was something else that shone through in her eyes. Perhaps melancholy because of the deep sense of your absence in her life.

"I don't think she is," Alba chided from across of Misa, eyes narrowed while a smirk played at her lips, "She'd rub it in our faces nonetheless. Which means-" She hummed in thought, examining her little sister, then gasped as she watched you furrow your brows in slight worry. Alba had always been the one to better read between the lines of your acts and masks, and you knew how forthright she could be to point it out. You just hoped she wouldn't bare your relationship issues to the entire table, if she even had a hunch this time. You didn't want to talk about it. Not with her, not with anyone. You would work it out together and keep it between you and your girlfriend, as she had made you promise. And perhaps, if you didn't speak about it, you could pretend nothing was wrong.

"You miss her, don't you? It's the only plausible reason you've been disappearing further and further into your seat with all this lovey dovey talk going on around here," Alba threw a quick accusatory look Patri's way, who threw up her hands at the allegation.

Misa watched the worry ebb away from your face, but it didn't disappear entirely. Something was still plaguing you.

"I do," You nodded, solemnly, bringing your glass to your lips and nipping ever so slightly, as if you didn't want to down the entire glass until it could be done as a last resort to soften whatever blow you still seemed to be waiting for.

Jenni awed, fingers pinching at your cheek, to which you couldn't help but let out a genuine squeal and giggle, "Who'd have thought little Putellas would find her one true love before any of us?"

"Hey!"

"You know we weren't meant to be, no offence," Jenni laughed at Alexia, who playfully shook her head in return, then turned back to you.

"She treating you well, honeyboo?"

You knew it was but a joke, you could see it on her face, but you couldn't help but take the question extremely serious. Your thoughts wandered to the past few months. Your jaw tensed. No, she hadn't been good to you, but in her defence, it had been entirely your doing. Well, you figured it had to be.

The fact that you waited too long to answer and how your eyes drifted to the many people walking the promenade behind Jenni, made the table quiet in an instant.

"She is treating you well, isn't she?" Alexia piped up almost immediately, ignoring the kick that Alba dealt to her ankle, silently telling her to not bring it up with a table full of her teammates.

"She is- sorry, the wine's getting to me quicker than usual in this heat." A breathy chuckle left you, and Misa watched as you tipped your glass backwards and downed the wine.

Alba eyed you, calling your bluff instantly.

"So you down it all in one go?" Claudia wondered, blinking as she teased.

"Okay, I see what kind of night this will be. I'm all for it," Leila raised her glass, "To us and our love lives. However glamorous or miserable they may be."

Misa shook her head and let out a breathy chuckle.

Jenni laughed, "And if it's non-existent, then we'll salute to getting a hot lover-" She eyed Misa momentarily before she noticed the empty glass you were playing with. She waved the nearest waitress over, "Wait- can we get a refill on her glass? We can't salute with an empty one."

"What happens if we do?"

"Seven years of bad luck, or something."

"I thought it was seven years of bad sex?"

"One and the same thing, isn't it?"

Misa watched you quietly after not having said a word in ages and using her semi-invisibility to observe you a little longer.

The waitress returned with a glass of dry white and she watched as you gave her a kind smile, feeling sympathetic after having been a waiter yourself on the weekends during university. It was where you'd met one of your best friends— Catalina. You'd been thrown to the wolves during your first shift by having to wait the tables of both a hen party and a group of college boys from some other country, all while an El Clásico was playing on the screens. They had made you run around the restaurant like a headless chicken. You'd dropped the tray of drinks you'd carefully been balancing in both your hands the second FC Barçelona had scored against Real Madrid and the terrace had roared and jumped up in pure delight. The men that had bumped into you had been too drunk or excited, or both, to notice what they'd done, but Catalina had. She'd helped you clean up and then offered to stay an hour longer after her shift to help bridge the hour before another coworker would take over from you, even if your boss should've had that covered in the first place. The rest was history. Your other two best friends, Abril and Isla, had immediately accepted her into the group. But that hadn't been too hard. Despite Catalina being older than the three of you, and definitely being labeled as the mom-friend, she had a youthful spirit to her and perfectly matched the energy of your already established silly little trio. Catalina had been a constant and unwavering source of guidance and maturity mixed with a silliness that was a surprise to you at first. But Catalina and her wise words were not here to help you out of this situation right now.

Misa had taken notice of how you had grabbed the glass and raised it to clink as soon as it had been put in front of you. But you had not touched it for the rest of the dinner afterwards, seemingly not taking the easy bait offered to you to drown your sorrows in the unsuspecting bliss of a drunken haze. She applauded you for it. Not a lot of people would've done the same.

The taxi ride home had been eventful, with Jenni roping the taxi driver into her improvised karaoke party mid-ride and the others joining in as soon as they'd noticed the driver wasn't opposed to some lighthearted fun with a group of young women in his van. But Misa had sensed something was still awry the second you had shuffled onto the last row. You'd buried yourself beneath your blazer and she knew it was more of a way to comfort yourself than to warm you up from the chilly AC. And when you had closed your eyes and tilted your head back to rest when the singing had commenced, she furrowed her brows in worry as she glanced across Leila, who sat in between you. Leila noticed Misa's line of sight, stopped singing when she saw your far-away state, and tugged at you,

"Do we need to stop?" She asked, hinting at the possibility of the wine messing with your stomach. That, together with the way the car was swirling along the mountain pass as it drove to your Airbnb at the top of the mountain.

You opened your eyes, gave Leila a tight-lipped smile and shook your head.

"I'm just tired. Sun and alcohol always put me right to sleep."

You'd excused yourself and disappeared into your room under the same guise, but Misa knew that was a lie when she heard the sniffles and muffled sobs coming from the room next to hers in the villa you'd all rented out for the week. It was your room, and unless you had suddenly decided to swap rooms with one of the other girls, it were your sobs she heard.

It tore at her conscience to lay there in her bed and have to listen to you and know she should and could do nothing about it. While you were open and approachable, you were incredibly reserved when it came to your feelings. You only showed a surface level of what was inside, the rest safely tucked away behind layers of brick walls. You'd shown so by brushing over your true state multiple times that vacation, so why would you accept Misa's comfort if she were to knock on your door?

Not being able to listen to it any longer, she made her way to the shared kitchen and filled a glass of water, gulping it down immediately as she looked through the tall glass sliding doors. The few inflatables bobbed gently in the pool and their towels and bathing suits were still drying on the edge of some chairs. She recognised your black bikini instantly. You were a beautiful woman, something that was more a fact than a personal preference, and you could wear a trash bag and make it look fashionable, but there was something about you in black that took Misa's breath away. She'd willed her eyes to look at anything but you when you'd walked out of the house with that small bikini clinging to your warm and sunkissed body. It felt wrong to stare at you and your curves and simultaneously have her mind filled with thoughts that were anything but platonic. Even if she didn't daydream about tearing the thing off of you, since she willed herself to never let her crush get to that point, it still felt weird to see you in a state of such... undress. As if she wasn't meant to see you like that. As if she was being rude to you, and to your girlfriend by extension, by staring at you nearly naked when she had this massive crush on you. It filled her with guilt. It also made her feel incredibly silly, seeing as all the girls wore close to nothing either and some even paraded through the secluded backyard in nude to work on their tan.

"I'm sorry, I was feeling ill so I took a shower and went to bed early."

Misa quickly whirled around when she heard a door open inside the house.

"I know, I'm sorry. I should've told you. I'm... feeling better now, though?"

Your soft voice muttered and approached. She could hear the stuffiness in your nose and it pained her. Quickly, she opened the sliding doors and slid outside.

"I really am sorry, baby. No, Carmen, please-"

A sudden urgency shimmered through in your tone, and Misa walked over to the edge of the backyard to sit down on a lounger, hoping she would blend in behind the greenery of the many potted plants in the dark of night. She cursed herself, however, when the sliding doors opened further and you walked out, pacing the tiles near the pool as you nibbled on your bottom lip, your figure lit up by the warm lights of the porch.

"Please, trust me. We were out on the sea all day, then went to a restaurant, had drinks, took a van back and then I went to take a shower. Then I went straight to bed."

"Because I forgot to set an alarm for our phone call- Yes, I forgot the one this morning as well. I was in the pool. Well, I didn't answer your texts because my head was killing me. I hadn't even looked at my phone. No, I wasn't ghosting you. I texted you I was ill. That wasn't some excuse. I was actually asleep before you called. I'm good, by the way."

"My sisters and her teammates. Some have girlfriends, yes, what's that to do with anything, Carmen? No, just because they're also into women doesn't mean there's a higher risk of me cheating with them, are you insane? Do you actually hear yourself?" Your voice rose, and Misa hated how she was hearing parts of your private conversation. She shouldn't be there, she didn't want to be there, she didn't even want to know what you were dealing with. That was your business, and she felt like an intruder. But she couldn't disappear back inside without having to pass you, and she also didn't want to get up and leave to give you space and then see the uneasiness on your face knowing that she'd heard some of your phonecall.

"I know we're going through a rough patch, but I wouldn't cheat. Ever. Not even if you were horrible to me and I were surrounded by groups of women who lust after me- No?! Goddamn, Carmen, it was just a rhetorical thing to- Lust is not important to me. Love is. And you- you... give me that... Listen-"

She could hear the despair in your voice, as if you were dangling above a cliff and feeling your grip loosen on the rope keeping you from falling.

"Like I said— Ale, Alba, Jenni and- No, no. God, why am I even indulging your insecurities? Especially when you're like this-"

"Why I'm having an attitude? Carmen, do you hear yourself? I'm sorry, but I can't talk to you when you're like this. It's like trying to soothe a wailing baby on a plane, it's useless."

And, immediately after, "I-I shouldn't... I shouldn't have said that."

It was quiet for a good while, and Misa hoped you had ended the call and disappeared back into your room. Then she heard the quiver in your voice.

"That's... that really hurt my feelings. Why would you say that?"

You had sounded so small, but she could hear you were trying your best to stay tough. Then it was quiet again. Misa glanced over her shoulder, watched how you'd taken a seat on the steps leading back up to the house and had wrapped an arm around yourself as if it was the only thing still keeping you from breaking down.

"Carmen, I'm going to hang up now. I fear that whatever I say will only be fuel to whatever fire you're wanting to light. You've already made your mind up. You're- We're clearly on edge and I'd rather have this conversation face to face and when we're not in our feelings or say stuff we don't mean. Are you okay with that?"

Misa hated that idea. If the girl could get you so distraught over the phone, she didn't want to imagine what it would be to have her in front of you, accusing you of whatever she thought you'd done. Though Misa had always thought of you as a strong woman, how else could you, being raised by one, you clearly were on the brink of breaking now.

"It's okay, love. It's okay. I forgive you. I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I'm so sorry. I know I shouldn't have. Yes, I promise. I know, I don't want to fight either. We'll fix things, like we said. No. I-I... love you, too. Bye, sweet dreams."

You looked down at your phone after ending the call, then buried your head in your hands, soft sobs drowning in the wind and the soothing buzz of the pool cleaner. You took a deep breath in, hating how it came out all shuddered because of your sobs. You rubbed at your forehead, then pulled at your oversized shirt, massaging the ache you felt beneath it, in your chest. But you couldn't pull yourself out of your misery by your lonesome self. You needed to, you knew that. Your heart ached harder when you realised the next few days would be filled with dread of what was to come once you'd return home.

Misa watched as you stood up, the red blob of one of Alexia's old FC Barçelona training jerseys disappearing behind the glass doors of the house. When she heard it click shut, she let out the biggest breath she'd ever held.

⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ⋆*·ﾟ

Misa remembered that week very well. How she’d hated the remainder of it and would’ve been better off taking the next flight home instead of having to look at you and know you were hurting. How obvious it was that your sudden silence wasn't because you couldn't stay away longer than a week from your girlfriend without missing her, but how much you dreaded and counted down the days until you saw her again. But perhaps she'd cheated when coming to that conclusion the second she'd overheard your phonecall. She couldn't blame your sisters for not catching onto your act when you were so good at masking. Well, not good enough to push through and smile as if nothing happened, but good enough to get the job done either way.

Misa hated having the inner dilemma with herself wether to approach you and confess of hearing the conversation, and offer you some comfort perhaps. Or if she should take her worries to the one person who would protect you with her life. But was it really her place to decide wether she should rope Alexia into your relationship issues? No, it wasn’t. It had all reminded her how bad it was to have had a crush on you in the first place. If she hadn’t had one, she wouldn’t have been attached enough to care more than she should. She would have felt bad about it a little, sympathise, and then just… let it go. Deal with her own love life, or lack thereof. But she couldn’t. She wanted to see you smile again, and not the fake ones. But wanting that, she couldn’t deny, was for a selfish reason as well. And she had been even more distant with you after the incident. Showing up beside you in silent comfort would surely raise suspicion. You were a clever and observant woman. She knew that. And she knew that you knew that her eyes flit to you more than necessary, after having been caught multiple times.

So, she decided to not go over into action beside praying every night that things would get better for you. That you would work things out with your girlfriend, with this Carmen, who you clearly loved enough despite the issues in your relationship, and to work through them with her. Even if she hated no longer hearing your laughter through the splashing of water as you'd dunk Alba below the surface or see you dance and let loose or watch you awe at the old woman making balloon figures for the kids on the boulevard. But when she’d seen you get playfully pushed between your sisters in your seat on the airplane when you’d all taken a picture to send to your mother, and that broad smile had come out which she'd assumed matched the same adorable childlike glee of your younger self, Misa had hoped it was the start of better days coming. That whatever had happened in Ibiza had just been an unfortunate course of events. And that whatever she'd seen during Alexia's birthday party had just been bad timing, as well.

So when Mapi had asked, months later, how her favourite Putellas was doing and Alexia had turned stoic and waved the subject off with a scowl, Misa knew something had gone terribly wrong. Usually, the oldest Putellas sister would speak with so much joy in her eyes whenever her little sister was brought up. The fact she refused to talk about you at all, worried them. Including Misa, who was listening from her cubby while taping her fingers.

“But she’s still going out with us after camp, right?”

Alexia rubbed at her furrowed brows, rummaging through her bag and looking anywhere but up in the eyes of her friends, “She'll be at the match, but that's all. I don’t think she's tagging along.”

Jenni perked up, looking defeated and confused at the same time, “Why not? She’s fun to have around, and I’ve missed her.”

“I don’t want her there.” Alexia’s response was blunt, harsh even, and the suddenty of it shifted the energy of the conversation.

“Okay… that’s- well, what happened?” Jenni butted in from her cubby, and Misa perked her ears, tearing the tape around her fingers in half with her teeth.

“Nothing.”

“Alexia.”

“I don’t want to talk or even think about it.”

“So instead you’ll leave us worried and let us speculate on our own?” Mapi huffed, clearly not liking how all kinds of scenarios flitted through her mind.

Alexia's face set in stone as she glared at them, eyes brimming with tears, “Not here.”

“Okay… that… that doesn’t sound good.”

“Can you at least tell us if she’s okay?”

Alexia's head hung low as she tied her cleats, and she muttered, “She isn’t, not mentally... or emotionally.”

“Then why not let her tag along? A fun night out sounds exactly like what she needs.” Jenni immediately held up her hands at the glare Alexia directed her way as soon as she'd spoken.

“No, it’s not. It’s not the right environment for her.”

“Because!?” Mapi hurried out in a whisper, realising this was not a conversation to be held in a filled locker room.

“I said not now!”

Jenni and Mapi sat back, defeated, and from her side of the room, Misa felt an immense wave of worry settle in her stomach. She had the desperate need to do something... anything, but what could she do when she was confined to watch from the sidelines?

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unnoffical first part of the 'as the flowers bloom, my heart does too' fic!! i hope you like it <3

#misa rodriguez x reader #woso x reader #misa rodriguez one shot #woso imagine

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