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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

Can we get some more brother!harry?

I really enjoyed your piece where he caught her smoking ❤️

of course you can!! (rip if your name is natalia) hope this is what you wanted;

Natalia.

Beautiful name to juxtapose a horrible excuse of a human being.

Harry was never that great when it came to choosing his girlfriends, but this one was by far the worst. Bekka had been bad, because she had been cheating on Harry with her best friends dad. India was just so toxic, to the point where she’d ask Harry why he wasn’t mad with her over the most trivial things as if she wanted him to be mad. Daya was ok, but she wanted different things to what Harry wanted and so they ended up in a massive argument and ending things quicker than they started. Natalia though, wow. She was something else and that wasn’t a compliment.

You don’t know whether it was just because she targeted you especially, but she was just a downright cruel person. You could easily tell her intentions with your brother were not good. She was a plain ol’ gold digger, evident from the credit card that Harry leant her and she spent so much on it the bank had to call Harry to ask him to authorise that he was aware of the amount of money being spent. She bought a car with his card. A fucking car. Harry was too blinded by her beauty and her experience that he was oblivious to her witchy behaviour towards you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to tell him either, it was more that he didn’t care enough.

“No Harry. No.” You argued with him, standing in the middle of the kitchen as he was busy washing the rest of the dishes in the sink. It was just the two of you home at the moment, because Gemma and Anne were spending the weekend at an exclusive spa in Cheshire, so you didn’t understand how there were so many dishes.

“Y/N, it’s not an option. You’re not staying at home by yourself.” Harry spoke sternly back to you, letting out his frustration by vigorously scrubbing the dishes.

“I’m literally 17 - 18 in like 3 weeks. I’m more than capable of staying home.” You stomped your foot to the ground like a child.

“And I don’t care. You’re coming to lunch whether you want to or not.” Harry finished the last plate and dries his hands on the towel next to the sink, before throwing it over to you.

“But she’ll be there.”

“She’s my girlfriend, so you’ll nice to her.”

“If she’s nice to me, then yeah.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the sink to start drying the dishes that Harry just cleaned.

“ Y/N, I swear to God.” Harry groaned in frustration, tugging a stressful hand through his hair. “Can you at least pretend to be happy for me for once?”

“Gee Harry, i’m just so happy to be going out to lunch with you and your girlfriend!” You put on the biggest grin as your sarcasm practically dripped from your tongue.

“Stop being a spoilt little shit and finish those dishes. We’re leaving in 20.” Harry spoke harshly, before leaving the room with a heavy strop to his step. It left you to blink back the tears that you couldn’t help that Natalia was ruining your whole relationship with your brother.

You and Harry used to be so tight nit, now it would be a miracle if he spent a day with you per month. Natalia had come along 5 months ago and she had completely turned Harry’s life around for the worst, only Harry was too ignorant to see that. Anne had come home multiple times to find you crying because Harry had cancelled on you, again, or Natalia had said something that had really hurt. Normally you were okay with taking hate, but Natalia made it somehow worse than that. Even if Anne or Gemma tried to talk Harry about the damage all this was causing you it would always be the same response;

“She just wants attention.”

The restaurant was very pretty.

It was one that you and Harry used to go to all the time, when there was no girlfriend around. It sold the best pastries and life-changing eggs on toast. The food was always delicious and the staff were so completely lovely. You were glad to be coming here, making you feel more comfortable than you would if you went to a expensive fancy restaurant instead. This little restaurant, named ‘Lemon Puffs’ after their infamous lemon, cream and pastry puffs, made you feel safe and happy.

“Remember to just be nice.” Harry spoke as you both approached the table that Natalia was already sat at. She was too busy on her phone to realise you were even here.

“If she plays nice then yeah.” You bit back.

“Y/N just stop being petty, y’pissing me off now.” Harry argued. “Whine like a bitch later. I don’t need it today.”

You stopped talking after that, not having anything else to say to him. He’d made it very clear that you were only here because he didn’t trust you at home by yourself, but by the same token wanted you quiet because he didn’t trust you enough to speak nicely. Harry hugged and kissed Natalia like he hadn’t just seen her last night and then sat down opposite to her, leaving you to sit next to Harry because you sure as hell weren’t sitting next to her. Natalia didn’t even make the effort to hug you or shake hands, in fact you barely got a simple hello.

“You alright, baby?” Natalia asked, twirling her hand into Harry’s from across the table. Disgusting.

“Yeah i’m good. This one’s a pain in my arse, as always.” Even with his joking tone, you knew he was being somewhat serious and that really messed with you.

“Typical.” Natalia rolled her eyes and tutted her tongue, not hesitating to use the opportunity to be mean to you. Harry thought she was merely playing along with his words, but you new otherwise.

“You know what you want yet?” Harry asked as he pulled his own attention towards the menu. You didn’t need to look at the menu, as being here so many times has allowed you to discover the perfect order.

“I think i’m just going to get the salad, but without the chicken, cheese or cucumber.” She answered, sipping on the water she must’ve already ordered whilst waiting for you both.

“So just lettuce?” You asked, not meaning for it to be a condescending question and yet she took it that way anyways.

“Is there something wrong with that, Y/N?” She asked, being really harsh in the way she spoke your name - as if the syllables actually caused her pain to speak.

“N-no I was just—”

“Didn’t think so.” She snapped and turned away from you to look back towards Harry, with her shit-eating grin that didn’t fool you. Harry kicked you leg under the table too, not appreciating the way you were speaking to Natalia. He didn’t even think about the way his girlfriend was speaking to you though. As usual.

“I’ll probably get the salad too.” Harry nodded his head and you shook your head as he spoke. Harry would never normally get a salad. Like, that’s so Kardashian of him. Harry, whenever he came here with you, always ordered a cheese and pickle panini, with extra crunchy pickles, a portion of chips and some halloumi fries too. Oh and then a cake for pudding. He wouldn’t have gone for a boring salad. Fucking Natalia was ruining him and you hated to have a front row seat of it.

“Not the usual then?” You tried to joke with him, but he was clearly still pissed off with you for being… you.

“Why, are you?” He asked quizzically.

“Obviously.” You smiled, which made Harry smile for a split second before Natalia pulled him away from you. Your smile disappeared and a frown settled in, knowing it would stay there for a long time.

“Babe, I am here too you know?” Natalia joked, bur you could see the anger and jealousy behind her eyes. If looked could kill you’d be ten feet under, twenty times over by now.

“Sorry, yeah.” Harry cleared his throat and paid closer attention to her.

Lunch went by slowly.

Natalia scoffed when she heard your order; poached eggs on toast with three pieces of crispy bacon on the side, a portion of chips and a mint iced tea. Oh and a cake for pudding, but you’d come to that later. Natalia ate her lettuce as Harry eat his salad as you ate your eggs on toast with bacon and chips. You loved the food, hated the company and couldn’t make up your mind whether you loved or hated being here. Natalia and Harry talked throughout lunch, leaving you out of all their conversations. The only time Harry spoke to you was when he asked whether your food was okay, eyeing it up as if he wanted to make love to it and send his salad to the nearest dumpster.

“Was everything alright for you?” Paul, the owner of the business and dude in charge of the eggs asked you when all your plates were empty as Harry’s growling stomach.

“Lovely, thank you.” Harry responded gratefully.

“Perfect.” You smiled as you handed your dirty plate to Paul.

“It was a bit plain.” Natalia moved her plate away from her in disgust and Paul put on his best customer smile, apologising for that before leaving to go and ring up the bill.

“Okay i’m just going to go for a quick wee before I pay.” Harry announced, getting up from the table to go to the loo.

“Okay babe. Don’t be too long.” She called out and then it was left just you and her.

“Well this was nice.” You tried to be nice, as Harry told you to, and start a meant conversation with your arch enemy. Kill ‘em with kindness - that was Harry’s slogan wasn’t it?

“If you hadn’t have been here then yeah.” She turned her nose up at you.

“Look,” you began, wanting her to understand something, “whatever i’ve done to upset you and make you hate me, i’m sorry. Just, I don’t want you to dislike me and I know that Harry really likes you so I want us to be able to get along.”

“Listen, Y/N,” there it was again - your name spoken with dripping venom, “I don’t want to get along with you. You make me sick. You are such a baby to Harry and you’re needy, which means I don’t get to spend time with my boyfriend—”

“Don’t get to spend time with him?” You had to laugh at that. Apart from today, you’d seen Harry maybe a total of 2 hours this whole week and it was Saturday. “You’re practically attached at the hip.”

“Not enough. Harry needs to keep away from you, you only bring him trouble.”

“I’m his fucking sister.” You shouted quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace for the rest of the customers.

“Not an excuse. Look Y/N, I understand that you are quite lonely and don’t have many friends? Maybe you should consider that’s for a very good reason?” She rhetorically asked you and that made you sit back a bit. She was pulling apart your insecurities now and exposing them to find the most painful parts, so she could watch you suffer with only the curse of her words.

“It’s not like that.” You tried to convince yourself more than her, tears in your eyes over something so hurtful to you.

“No? ‘Cause I think that you aren’t the kind of person anyone wants around, including Harry.” She stood up dusted herself off as he noticed Harry walk back over to the table, smiling as if she hadn’t just shot his sister in the heart.

Her words stung more than a scorpions tale, and yes unfortunately you knew what that felt like. Natalia was right. You were alone, friendless and just trouble. There was a reason that you were all of this and Natalia had hit the nail right on the head with the reason why. You thought of your friends, his they always disappeared and left you and now you sit in the canteen alone or hang out only with yourself on the weekends. You think to Gemma and Anne going away for the weekend, not inviting you because it was age restrictive but you still couldn’t help but think there was a more pressing reason than that. Then you think of Harry and how he was fed up of you. He couldn’t be more resentful of you if he tried. You wanted to be a good friend, a good daughter and most importantly a good sister, but it was so blindingly obvious that you weren’t. You were never going to be.

You stood up from the table too, quickly wiping away a tear from your face before anyone could notice but you didn’t care to see if anyone was actually watching. Harry kissed Natalia and then walked over to the cashier to pay the bill. You noticed Paul and Harry talking and so you walked out of the restaurant and towards the car, still tears in your eyes. You needed to be strong for yourself though, especially because nobody else was going to be.

You stood with you handle to the door of the car waited for Harry to come and unlock it. You heard high heels before the car was unlocked, unfortunately.

“Excuse me, but I ride front.” Natalia spat at you, removing your hand from the door and chivvying you to the back of the car instead.

“You’re coming with us?” You asked, your heart aching that little bit more. You didn’t want to spend another minute in her presence and yet she would now probably spend the rest of the week until your mum and sister came back.

“Ye—”

“No she’s not.” Harry walked out of the restaurant and over to the car, standing in between the both of you but a little more towards you.

“Babe? What do you mean?” Natalia asked, a little bit shocked at his tone with her.

“Firstly dont babe me. Secondly, get your hand off my car. Thirdly, don’t ever come near me or my sister ever again.” Harry ordered angrily. You’d never seen him this angry before. You stood behind him, afraid of what was about to go down.

“What has she said to you, because—”

“She’s my sister and she’s got a name. Y/N didn’t tell me anything. Lemon Puffs, however, has eyes and ears everywhere and it’s amazing the stories you hear when you’re stood at the cashier or next to someone at the urinals.” Harry accused Natalia and she went hot red in the face, embarrassed that this conversation was actually happening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? Maybe this will jog your memory. ‘I think you aren’t the kind of person anyone wants around, including Harry.’” Harry raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest confrontationally. Guarding and protecting you. You felt safe.

“Wha— You think I would say that?” Natalia asked, pretending to be offended by the accusation.

“I don’t know, let’s ask Y/N shall we? Y/N, did Natalia say that to you?” Harry asked, turning to look at you with hope in his eyes, but also sorriness for everything that’s happened. You could see it all behind his eyes and you wanted to squeeze him tight to accept his apology, because you loved him and you needed him.

“Y-yes.” You answered, looking down so you didn’t have to make eye contact with Natalia.

“Harry you can’t possibly believe her.” Natalia laughed, but there was heavy insecurity in her tone.

“I trust her more than anyone. More than you. I trust Y/N with my life.” Harry back answered, taking no more bullshit from his ex-girlfriend. “We’re done Natalia. Okay? I don’t want to see you ever again. What you’ve said and done to my sister is unforgivable and I don’t want someone like you in my life.”

“You were a dick too.” You added quietly behind him and he just turned round to smile and wink at you.

“So what? That’s it?” Natalia asked, dumbfounded.

“Bye Natalia.” Harry walked around to the drivers seat and you to the passenger side. He stopped before opening the door though, wanting to say one last thing. “The bill was split in half by the way. Paul’s just inside waiting for you to pay.”

With that, you both got in the car, laughing at Natalia’s reaction and just everything. Apologises were made and promises of no relationships until you two had built back up yours were sworn. It would take time, but Harry was willing to prove that he was a good brother and you were always going to be someone he wanted around.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue harry styles #finelinevogue #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #harry blurb #harry styles x sister!reader #harry styles sister concept #harry styles sister #harry styles masterlist #finelinevogue blurbs #ask finelinevogue #ask harry styles #anon response #anon #harry styles angst #harry styles sister angst blurb

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my-soul-sings · 3 years

Text

kiss the girl: ch 3

Fandom: Tears of Themis Characters: Artem x Reader

Summary: Armed with a trusty book, Artem Wing attempts to win the woman of his dreams.

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 2 extra (ft. marius) | ch 3

***

Compliment her.

This was supposed to be the easiest tip of them all. Giving her compliments was easy; he could compliment her for doing a good job on a court document draft, for responding well to the client at a client meeting, for her quick and sharp answer to his question about a case… Point was, it wasn’t a difficult task.

…At least, that was what he thought, until one afternoon, Celestine barged into his office looking quite exasperated.

“You’ve been complimenting her a lot lately, you know,” she tells him, to which he merely looks up briefly before returning his attention to the case file he was reading.

“And?”

“I know what you’re doing, but, Artem… this...” He looks up again and Celestine is chewing on her bottom lip, frowning as she thinks about how to string her thoughts into words.

“Am I doing something wrong?” How can he get this wrong though? He might be clueless in things like giving flowers, but surely he’s able to do something as simple as compliments.

“It’s not that. It’s...” she starts snapping her fingers as she attempts to summon a coherent explanation. “She’s happy, but… ah, I’ve got it.” Celestine clears her throat, smiling confidently now. “The compliments are coming from you as her boss rather than as a love interest. You get it?”

Artem sees nothing worth smiling about. In fact, the paper in his hand begins to crumple.

His colleague is quick to realise this, and her smile drops almost immediately. “It’s not a huge problem. She’s happy that you think she’s performing well!”

Her words don’t seem to register in his mind, however. The crumpled document falls from his grasp and flutters soundlessly onto the table, while Artem interlocks his fingers and rests his head against his knuckles with a loud sigh.

“Come on, don’t be like that. It’s fine. Just keep it in mind the next time you want to compliment her.”

“What compliment can I give that won’t sound like it’s coming from her boss, and won’t land me in a talk with the HR department?”

“Just say her hair looks nice. Or her outfit. Women aren’t that hard to please.”

With another sigh, Artem looks up and nods, although the movement is noticeably weary. Celestine eyes soften at the sight, although of course she can’t help but laugh at him—as she always does. “You’re making progress, don’t worry. And I have your back, so everything will be fine.”

“Alright... Thank you, Celestine.”

“You can thank me by treating me to a fancy dinner.”

In the haze of his thoughts, he agrees easily. “Fine, I will.”

Artem waits for her to gleefully exit his office before leaning back in his chair and running his hands through his hair.

So much for it being easy this time.

***

You’re starting to wonder if Artem is sending you hints… and not in a good way. He’s been complimenting you on your outfit and hair for the past three days, even though you’ve been wearing the same hairstyle and the same red jacket and pencil skirt to work (because that is the only outfit you own—you’re not sure why, it’s not like you’re a character in a game).

Is he hinting for you to change it up? He’s not the kind of person to tell you outright if you need an outfit change… Maybe it’s time to schedule a solo shopping trip this weekend—if you can clear the pile of research on your to-do list before then, that is.

“You look worried. What happened?” Kiki asks as she passes by your desk on the way to the restroom.

Right, Kiki. You can ask her. You swivel your chair around so she can get a full look at your outfit. “How do I look? Tell me honestly.”

“You… look the same as always. Am I supposed to notice something new?”

“No,” you wave her off with a sigh. “I think Artem is hinting for me to get some new clothes.”

“Huh? No way. Why? Did he tell you to go shopping?”

“He didn’t… He’s just been complimenting me a lot on my clothes and hair, but I look the same as I always do.”

“That’s weird…” Kiki purses her lips, eyes darting left and right as she thinks. “But everyone in this office wears the same outfit all the time too, even him. Why would he single you out?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter. “Maybe I’m doing something wrong?”

“He’s here,” she whispers sharply, and immediately you tense up when you notice Artem walking over towards the pantry. Kiki sends you a quick thumbs-up sign, mouthing “Good luck” before she scurries off in the direction of the restroom.

You pretend to go back to work, hoping that Artem will just walk by and not comment on your outfit or hair again—you got the hint. You’ll go shopping this weekend. You will incinerate these clothes and maybe get a haircut or try a different hairdo. All you want is to not hear from the man you like that he’s less than impressed with your outfit or hair.

Unfortunately, it seems that your silent pleas won’t go answered today again. You hear your boss clear his throat right next to your desk, and you look up, plastering a smile on your face to greet him.

“Yes… Artem?”

He pauses, scrutinising your face for a moment, and you regret letting your smile slip for just that split second. Artem has eyes as sharp as an eagle’s and immediately he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing!”

He leans over, his frown deepening. It’s unfair that he can look this effortlessly good in his suit and tie despite wearing it every day. You, on the other hand…

“You don’t look like you’re okay. Is it a case that’s troubling you?”

“No, it’s not. It’s something else... I won’t let it affect my work, don’t worry.” You grin at him, hoping he’ll buy it, but you gather from the thin line of his lips that he is hardly convinced. Of course not—this man has been thoroughly trained to single out liars on the witness stand.

Your shoulders tense, not sure what Artem is about to say. Judging from the frown, it doesn’t look like it’ll be good.

But then in that moment, his features soften into the kind, gentle man you’ve become familiar with after working with him for so long. “If there’s anything you’re worried about, you can talk to me. I’m here to listen.”

His words remind you of why you fell for him in the first place.

Touched, your lips begin to lift into a smile. “It’s really nothing… But thank you.”

Again, he pauses, although this time, his expression wavers, morphing into something pinker and unsure. His lips move, but no sound comes out until a few seconds pass.

Eventually, he speaks again. “You look... better when you smile.” The sentence is almost too soft to hear, but you manage to catch it before he turns around and marches right back into his office.

You stare at his retreating figure, wondering if you’d heard wrong. Despite the lingering doubt, your cheeks begin to warm.

***

When Artem returns to his office, the first thing he does is to loosen his tie—it’s starting to feel suffocating with how warm he’s suddenly feeling. How pathetic must he look? He was asking her what she was worried about, but all he did was say something and then run away with his tail between his legs.

But then… maybe that could count as a compliment? He can’t really tell, since Celestine only told him to compliment her on her outfit and hair. And he doesn’t want to consult Celestine further on this, lest she ask for another appallingly expensive dinner treat.

If that was a compliment though, then it had come out far more naturally than he had expected it to. Maybe that’s what it’s supposed to be like—natural, easy and sincere. No need to think too deep into it and just let things be.

With a satisfied smile, he peeks out the window of his office to see her also smiling to herself as she continues her work.

Compliment her. That wasn’t such a bad tip after all.

#tears of themis #artem wing #artem fanfiction #artem fanfic #tears of themis fanfiction #tears of themis fanfic #tot fanfiction #tot fanfic #kiss the girl #my writing

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weeb-writor · 4 years

Text

MHA boys react to your Pro Hero father finding out you’re dating them

Heyo! So today I just have something cute and crack-y! I’ve been reading wayyy to much angst as of late! Reader is neutral and I am running out of things to write so send me some requests I do have a few rules but I pretty much write everything! I hope you all enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Amajiki Tamaki x Reader Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Your Pro Hero dad finds out your dating (All might and Fat Gum)

Words: 1928

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

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

So you are not sure how to explain this situation, really. Of course you knew about your fathers no dating rules and you were, are a great kid who follow his rules. However, the first time you laid eyes on him you were taken. Then when you saw him fight and the way he spoke their was no hope for you. You had fallen head over heels in love with him. So when he asked you out the words ‘no’ and ‘I can't’ were no longer in your vocabulary. So here you were on a date with Bakugou. You two were at all mall just walking around, shopping when you wanted but mainly just enjoying your time together.

“Would you stop looking like that! Just tell me what the hell it is!” Bakugou yelled at you, you blinked at him not really realizing you were staring.

“I… the claw game for the big game has a rabbit in it.” You said with your head down. Bakugou only sighed and drug you over to the game.

“Now I’ll get you the bunny on one condition,... come meet my parents next weekend.” He mumbled completely red.

“You’ve got a deal.” You said with a smile.

“AND I wanna meet yours.” He added starting to play the game you stilled visibly at his words.

“Uh i'm sure you don't, it might be another situation like you had at dinner with the Todoroki’s!” You rushed out to him. He didn't respond but moved the claw toward the ugliest stuffed animal you had ever seen.

“OMG you're such a dramatic man, fine fine.” You huffed at him, he chuckled evilly and a moment later you were holding the huge bunny.

“What would you do without me, huh? I'm perfect for you, y’know. No one else could have done that for you the first try, like I did.” He said as you guys started your walk up again.

“Huh, well personally I think Izuku probably could. You know he has all those limited addition all might figures and plushies, a lot of them come from claw games.” You said nonchalantly knowing it would piss off Bakugou. He stopped talking and grabbed your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“Your so full of shit, your trying to get a rise out of me but you wont.” He said with an eyebrow raise.

“Is that why you’re twitching?” You asked as you pulled forward some more, your lips almost touching. Before you guys could tease each other any further a voice interrupted you.

“Bakugou?” You both froze as All might’s voice echoed in your ears. You jumped away from Bakugou as he gave you a confused look.

“Yeah?” He said, still glancing at you, not sure what to make of your strange behavior.

“What are you two doing here and what are you doing so close together?” He asked with a smile, you could tell it was fake.

“Oh were on a-” he tried to get out but you cut him off.

“A snack run! Us and the rest of the class are doing a movie night.” You said shakily.

“I didn't know a snack run required such closeness.” He said with an eyebrow raise.

“It doesn't.” Aizawa said. You didn't even notice he was there and now you were screwed. Aizawa had agreed to keep you and Bakugou’s relationship a secret in exchange for coffee every Monday and Wednesday but last Wednesday you forgot. The grin on his face says he is getting even.

“What? were not doing that! I'm not watching a movie with those extras on our date night.” Bakugou pouted at you, your mouth hung open at him. Now did you tell Bakugou All might was your father and he forbid you to date, no, no you didn't; but he is one of the smartest people you know. He is in the top 5 of your class in smarts for god sakes, he should have known you were trying to keep this on the downlow.

“YOUR WHAT!” your father said in his boisterous voice.

“Uhh, well you see um he is… What are you two doing here, huh?” You said trying to change the subject. Aizawa started to chuckle next to your father.

“Y/N I said no boys, no girls, no theys!!! Bakugou is clearly a boy!!” He said, starting to pace around. “Hold on, Aizawa, did you know about this?” He asked, turning toward the teacher who immediately stopped laughing.

“I learned about it very recently and I told them to tell you or I would. Very childish and unheroic.” He said, trying not to bust out laughing.

“Bakugou we should run..” You whispered to him as your father paced around.

“Why didn't you tell me your dad was All might and that we are a secret!!” He whispered yelled to you.

“We can talk about this later but right now babe, we gotta run before he calls Gran Torino.” You said inching away from the scene in front of you. Bakugou did the same as but your world stopped when your eyes met Aizawa’s. He shook his head but mouthed “Coffee Monday” then shut his eyes. With that you and Bakugou were off, ignoring your father who was calling for you.

“Dumbass you know they are going to the same place we are, right?” He said laughing.

“I know but i would rather be shunned in my room than in the public, gotta keep our image up.” You said giving him a thumbs up. You both laughed all the way to the dorms and were still in high spirits when your father came and found you guys lounging in the commons.

AMAJIKI TAMAKI

Now you and Tamaki relationship is… strange to most people. You were not like Mirio or Nejire, you were more like Tamaki but just not as anxious. No one even knew how you two got together after years of pining but both being too shy to ask each other out. It did happen nonetheless and it was oddly perfect. You both loved to stay in and eat takeout, you would take turns calling the takeout spot, or sometimes even play rock, paper, scissors to decide. Festivals were also a love you guys shared, of course you went early before fireworks when it wasn't too busy. But this, this was by far your favorite. The beach in the middle of the night, you and Tamaki would sometimes sneak out when you both needed a breather in the dead of the night when there was nothing but the two of you, the waves, and the stars.

“Did you bring it?” You asked Tamaki as you walked along the shore.

“Of course I did, do you wanna do it?” He asked fidgeting a little.

“Mhhmm.” You hummed taking the stick from him. You and him found it on your first beach date, it was a stick that Tamaki sterilized, afraid it would give you some sort of disease. You thought for a second before writing in the sand.

“Laugh in the silence, dance in rain, and sing with the birds. There will come a day when all things will change and you’ll be left with only the memories of yesterday, so enjoy them. Sincerely the silent.” He said reading what you wrote in the sand.

“I made it far from the tide so someone will actually see it this time.” You said as you drew heart and butterflies around it.

“Where'd you get it from?” He said as he sat laid down on the sand to watch the stars. You laid down placing your head on his chest.

“My dad, he and I are very different and he learned very early on that when he taught me his ‘life lessons’ in loud ways I didn't get it and that I was pretty timid so I wouldn't learn them through experience. My class was going on a 3 week end of the year vacation to the U.S and I decided I didn't wanna go, I'd never been, my dad couldn't come, I listed every reason why I couldn't and at some point I was just making up random excuses when really I did wanna go. So my dad made me climb this mountain and carried me when I complained it was too much. When we finally got to the top I was so angry that there was just a bunch of snow but then he made me look to my left and there were dozens of flowers peeking through the snow. It was amazing. Then he told me that saying and I was never the same. I went on the trip for a week instead of 3 weeks and I loved it. If I can help someone like us step out of their comfort zone just a little so they can see beautiful flowers and enjoy all that they can, I'll be happy.” You said as your eyes fluttered shut a little.

“We can do it together, step out of our comfort zones, I mean.” He mumbled to you. You hummed at him in agreement.

“PUT YOUR HANDS UP OR I’LL SHOOT!” A loud voice called out to you, you and Tamaki immediately stood up and put your hands up.

“Okay now dance! I'm thinking the Macarena..” The guy trailed off. Tamaki mumbled to himself and turned around putting his hands down, you were about to yell at him but he turned and smiled at you then began to speak.

“What are you doing here, Mr. Fat Gum.” Tamaki said with a sigh. You froze at this and thought about disappearing into the water but it was a cold night you would die. Maybe if you didn't turn around he wouldn't know it was you.

“Well when I got a call saying my kid snuck out the first few times I was cool about it, they never do anything wrong so y’know its good to be a little wild BUT WHEN I HEARD THEY WERE WITH A BOY I CAME TO FIND THEM!! But seeing it’s you i'm a little less worried but when I said find some new people to hang with and expand your horizons I definitely didn't mean my kid who I forbade to date, mind you!” You dad said, grabbing Tamaki by the shoulders and shaking him a little. Your boyfriend looked between the two of you and then began to mutter incoherent things.

“Dad stop you gonna give him a heart attack.” You said trying to get your boyfriend back from your overprotective dad.

“Nahh that would be too kind and too quick.” And with that your boyfriend fainted, your dad laughed and threw him over his shoulders.

“You didn't have to do that.” You said as you both began the walk home.

“What kind of father would I be if I didn't instill fear into the hearts of those who could break your heart beyond repair.” He smiled at you

“You scare him everyday when he works with you!! I’ve heard all the stories from Tamaki, you put him into uncomfortable situations sometimes.” You huffed at him

“Sure but never more than he can handle. ‘Laugh in the silence, dance in rain, and sing with the birds. There will come a day when all things will change and you’ll be left with only the memories of yesterday, so enjoy them.’ He always learns something new or at least gets a kick out of it.” He said as he put his fist out for you to bump. You bump it and smile at him.

“You are still in trouble though.” He said with a laugh, you sighed at his words. Maybe you should have taken your chance in the freezing water.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #bakugou imagine #tamaki amajiki #tamaki x you #tamaki x reader #mha tamaki #mha x reader #mha insert #mha imagines #bnha fanfiction

358 notes · View notes

gingeralepdf · 4 years

Text

A Little Love

A/N: here she isss!!! this is the piece that i wrote for the Pick Your Poison Fic Challenge that was set up by the amazing @andwhenshesays @for-fucks-sake-h and @oh-honey-styles (thank you for organizing all of this!! you’re all legends!!)

extra big thank you to lydia @youresogolden-h and brailey @daydreamsofh for being such sweet beta readers <3

this is my first ever attempt at writing fic, so i hope you enjoy it!

****CONTENT WARNING**** alcohol consumption

Harry is your best friend and your coworker, but you see him as more. Maybe you both just want a little love.

word count: ~8K

**April 25, 2020, 11:15am**

It’s a comfortable spring day in San Francisco. The windows are cracked, letting in sweet smelling fresh air and the moderate bustle of people out and about. Despite the perfect weather to be out at the market or taking a walk in the park, you’re currently at your neighbor’s apartment, slouched on the couch in the living room and in the midst of a New Girl marathon. Or rather, you are in the midst of a New Girl marathon, but your friend has not looked up from the guitar he is restringing for the past fifteen minutes.

You’ve been stealing glances at Harry from the other end of the couch. He has the guitar laying across his lap. He’s able to take all of the strings off and put three new ones on without a problem, but something about the fourth string seems to be giving him a lot of trouble. Every time he gets the string wound up on the tuning key, it snaps loose, like it can’t hold the tension. After several attempts with the same result, Harry sets his string winder on the coffee table and lets out a frustrated huff while scratching his forehead.

Although you know it’s probably best to not make a comment while he’s annoyed, you decide to make one anyway.

Just as he grabs the winder from the coffee table and goes in for another attempt at the string, you blurt out, “I thought the whole point of watching Netflix at your house instead of mine was so you could work and watch at the same time.”

Harry rolls his eyes and slowly cranes his head to look in your direction, “I am watching.”

“Right, so tell me what Miranda has been up to,” you challenge.

Harry lowers his head in concentration, making another attempt at winding up the string on the tuning key, “She’s like… going on a date or something.”

“Miranda isn’t even a character in the show!”

The tuning key once again snaps loose. Harry’s nostrils flare and he mutters a quick “Fucks sake.”

A moment passes where the only sound in the room is the TV. You’re trying to gauge whether or not you’ve actually pissed him off a bit. You decide to bite your tongue and see what he is going to say next.

Harry finally shifts his eyes from the guitar to you, “Obviously I can’t work and watch at the same time.”

You give him a pointed look, “You think?”

“I promise I can finish this project pretty quick, and then I’ll watch, like, four episodes, uninterrupted. I just need to go get some parts so… would you mind pausing it?”

Once the show is paused, Harry gets up from his spot on the couch, gently sets the guitar on the floor, and turns to exit the living room. However, he is stopped short since your legs are making a barricade between the couch and the coffee table. With a mischievous grin on his face, he uses his shin to slowly push your legs away from him so that your feet slide off the end of the table and onto the floor. Your jaw drops in exaggerated offense. Giggles erupt from both of you as he narrowly avoids your attempts to trip him while he steps over your legs and then jogs across the room to his workspace.

A huge benefit of living a couple of buildings away from your best friend is that any given day of the week can be spent like this. The both of you can always be found at either one of your apartments watching hours of Netflix, working on projects, or sharing meals.

Just as you were enjoying the moment of silence that fell onto the room, your phone and Harry’s phone buzz on the coffee table. With a quiet groan, you slowly sit up from the couch to see a text from your boss, sent in a group chat with yourself and Harry.

Would either of you be able to work the closing shift tonight? Sarah called in sick and the rest of the shift leads can’t work today.

Although you and Harry were both looking forward to having a Saturday off, you knew the bar was a little short-staffed this weekend, so you both kind of saw this coming.

“Is that who I think it is?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, Adam’s asking one of us to work the closing shift tonight. Sarah called in sick and I guess Charlotte can’t work today.”

Harry groans as he makes his way back to his previous spot on the couch and plops down with a screwdriver and a plastic bag containing what looks to be a new set of tuning keys in hand.

Harry takes a moment to look around his living room, taking in all of the instrument cases stacked around the small apartment, scratching his jaw in thought. “I mean, I would take it, but I’ve got a lot of projects that have to get done this weekend.”

“I guess that just leaves me then,” you say flatly, sinking further into the couch and staring straight ahead out of the window across the room.

“‘M’ sorry,” Harry says with a light chuckle at your dramatics, “I’ll owe you one.” His offer comes out more like a question.

You look back in his direction to see him with a wide, dimpled grin staring back at you. You know he’s just trying to make you feel better, and it works.

After sending a quick text to your boss letting him know you would be there tonight, you sit up straight and grab the remote from the coffee table. “That’s a really tempting offer. I’ve got a lot of sick days saved up, you know?”

“Heyyyy,” Harry draws out in a playfully offended tone.

You chuckle before asking, “Can we just finish this episode so I can go home and get some rest before work?”

“Yeah I think we can do that.” He sets the screwdriver and plastic bag on the coffee table and leans back on the couch, folding his hands together to rest on his stomach.

You press play on the remote and settle into another day with your best friend.

**April 26, 2020. 1:47am**

About ten minutes until the bar closes, and there are still three large, lively groups hanging around. You and your coworkers have done as many pre-closing tasks as you possibly could, aside from taking the drink glasses straight out of the customers’ hands. Now it just seems to be the longest waiting game ever until you’re officially allowed to kick everyone out.

While you’re all busying yourselves with wiping down counters and straightening chairs, the front door swings open.

Just as you’re about to put on your best customer service face that you can muster, you see a familiar blue and white plaid jacket and fluffy brown curls. Harry is strolling in, surveying the crowd of customers as he’s making his way to where you’re standing at the bar. You see that he is donning a form-fitting grey t-shirt with a bright yellow smiley face on it, light brown high-waisted pants, and a delicate looking pearl necklace. He always seems to be able to effortlessly look put together, even when he is making bold choices.

You look at him with raised eyebrows and ask with exaggerated charm, “Come here often?”

“Oh god.” He laughs at your ill attempt at comedy through a pained expression.

“What are you doing here?”

He shrugs, “Same as always.”

Harry has made it a routine to walk home with you when you’re working the closing shift. Even when you insist that there’s no need for him to stay up so late when he’s not working.

He glances around before looking back at you, “Is there anything I can help with right now?”

You shake your head. “Just waiting for them to leave so we can clean everything.”

“Bollocks,” he mutters before puckering his lips.

You decide to go around the corner of the bar to the prep area where the music controls are. Hopefully the customers will take the hint that it’s time to leave once you lower the volume.

After a few minutes, all of the staff are breathing a collective sigh of relief when one group makes their way to the door and the other two groups shortly follow suit.

By the time you follow the crowd out and you lock the door, it’s 2:05 a.m. Considering how busy it was tonight, you’re counting this as a small victory.

Harry and your other coworkers are going around cleaning up glasses and bottles and taking them back to the sink while you make your way to the register to start your shift lead duties.

Once the tips are divided, you take a look around and see that your coworkers are steadily making their way through the cleaning checklist. With Harry’s help, things are moving along pretty quickly. You pull the first bundle of cash out of the drawer and start counting.

After getting the cash drawer sorted out, and counting out a new one for Monday, you hear your coworker saying your name. “I think we’ve done everything on the cleaning checklist. Is there anything else you need help with?”

“Actually, all I have left to do is inventory. I’m not gonna hold you hostage for that, so you guys are free to head out if you want to.”

Your coworkers are saying goodnight and clocking out shortly after. Once they're gone, you’re left with the faint buzzing of the refrigerators and the light music over the speakers. You turn around to face the shelves of bottles and notice a few that are running low and need replacing. You go down the ‘employees only’ hallway to the back stockroom and grab all the bottles you need. Hugging them to your chest, you make your way back down the hallway. You walk about halfway when a figure jumps out of the supply closet to your right, causing you to jump backwards and let out a scream.

Harry’s howling laughter echoes through the hallway as you try to catch your breath and will your heart to stop racing.

You finally regain some composure and turn to fully face Harry. His laughter has reduced to occasional soft chuckles falling past his pursed lips. If your arms weren’t full, you would most likely be smacking him for scaring the shit out of you.

“What the hell were you thinking?” You do your best to give him death glare, but your voice is now shaking with laughter as well. “You’re lucky I didn’t drop any of this stuff, you idiot.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry but you should have seen your face. Holy shit.” He opens his arms and slowly steps toward you to bring you in for a hug.

“Well if you’re so sorry, put these on the shelf for me.” You say as you thrust the bottles into his chest, making him grunt out a laugh.

You walk to the front with Harry trailing behind you. All you have left to do is make a few notes for Adam before finally clocking out. You’ve never been more excited for your head to hit the pillow when you get home.

As you’re making your notes, Harry is pacing about behind you, straightening out all of the bottles on the shelves. He lets out a long observant hum.

“What?”

“Just noticed this guy’s almost empty,” he holds up a bottle of tequila and swirls around what little liquor is left in it. One corner of his mouth turns up before he looks at you, “Enough left for two more shots, probably.”

“Is that so?”

“Y’ wanna find out?”

“I don’t know,” you say as you tilt your head up and tap your chin in thought “I don’t know how I feel about taking shots with people who jump out of supply closets to scare me.”

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that.” He’s exaggerating and drawing all of his words out as he walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you so that his hands are resting on your left shoulder and he rests the side of his head on the back of yours. “I’m sorry. Please take a shot with me.”

Although it's pointless since he can’t see your face, you roll your eyes in response, “Fine. Pour me one.”

His hand gives your shoulder a light squeeze before he moves away and reaches under the counter then puts two shot glasses onto the bar. He reaches behind him for the nearly empty bottle and pours the perfect amount into each glass. Taking them both in his hands, he extends one to you.

You don’t miss the chuckle that he lets out as you take the glass from him. After giving him a questioning look, you notice a slight blush on his face.

“What’s so funny?”

“Was just thinking. This,” he gestures to the two of you and the glasses you’re both holding “reminds me of the day you got into the art institute.”

Around this time a year ago, you had spent weeks pouring over your application for the San Francisco Art Institute and months after that waiting to hear anything back. When you got the acceptance email toward the end of your shift at work, Harry was the first person that you told. Just over a year ago, you were standing with Harry behind this same bar when you told him the good news. Your chest filled with warmth at his reaction. He wrapped you in a nearly suffocating hug as he loudly declared, “I told you you had a kick ass portfolio! So fuckin proud of you.”

Right after he released you from the hug, he poured each of you a shot. Harry then made the impromptu decision of doing a bar crawl after you both got off, deeming the two shots “not enough celebration”.

After a night full of slightly over the top celebrating, you were practically dragging Harry home. It wasn’t until you got to his apartment building that he realized he had left his keys and wallet at one of the bars. Not wanting to drag him back across town, you ended up bringing him back to your apartment just around the corner.

It took a lot of coaxing, but you were able to get him to drink a big glass of water before helping him brush his teeth with your spare toothbrush.

You have a lot of vague and fuzzy memories from that night, but there are two that remain crystal clear. One is the moment when you were clumsily leading him to your couch and he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Wish I could kiss you.” And the other is the way your stomach dropped and your heart nearly fluttered out of control at his drunken confession.

The conversations about that night always turned into jokes about you being able to handle your liquor better than he could. His comment was never brought up by either of you. You weren’t sure if he would even remember it, or if either of you really wanted to.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, “we should never be allowed to celebrate anything after that. We were miserable the next day.”

You lock eyes with him and for a split second there’s something in his eyes that you don’t quite recognize. Like a different kind of softness that you hadn’t seen before this moment.

It’s fleeting, however, because he glances down at your hands and clinks your glasses together. You tilt your heads back at the same time, feeling the burn in your throats and letting out sharp exhales once it’s passed.

Harry takes your glass from your hand and silently goes to the prep area. You hear the sink running as you finish up your notes to your boss and you clock out.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah I just need to get my-” you stop mid-sentence when you turn around to see Harry already holding out your bag that had been hanging up in the prep area. You mutter a ‘never mind’ as you take it from him.

Harry grabs his jacket from the pool table and you stroll to the front door together, turning off lights as you go.

You finally step out into the chilly nighttime air. The only noises are coming from the small scattered groups of people gathering in front of the bars on the block that are just closing.

After locking the doors, you and Harry start trudging along the sidewalk up the steep hill. If you had known that it was going to get so much colder and windier during the night, you would have brought a jacket with you. You fold your arms and grit your teeth as another cold breeze hits you from the front.

You don’t even notice Harry taking off his jacket until he’s holding it in front of your face. You pause your walking for a moment to gently take it from his hand.

“Aren’t you gonna be cold?”

“Well I’m not gonna watch you shiver all the way home.”

You frown a bit as you look at the jacket in your hands. You can still feel the warmth from Harry’s body heat on the hand that’s grasping the inside of it. Having that little bit of warmth already makes you feel better, but you hate to think that he’s going to be the one gritting his teeth against the cold.

He says your name through a chuckle and you look up to meet his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Just put the jacket on and let’s get you home, yeah?”

**April 26th, 2020. 5:30am**

It should be considered a crime to be wide awake at this hour, considering the small amount of sleep you’ve gotten. The only thing you had the energy to do when you got home last night was change out of your work clothes and fall into bed. You remember glancing at your clock and reading 3:15 a.m. before your eyelids grew heavy and closed.

The reminder of Harry’s drunk confession that you thought was water under the bridge is now flooding your mind as you desperately try to fall back to sleep. You try to push down the memory of his giggles as you made the strenuous effort of finding the switch on your living room lamp while having nearly all of his body weight leaned against you for support. You try to push down the memory of his flushed cheeks in the glowing yellow light when you finally got him settled on your couch. You try to push down the memory of running your fingers through his soft curls and giving his hairline a soft kiss before going to bed. You try to think of literally anything else.

It isn’t until the very first hints of daylight enter your room that you decide to give up.

The floor is cold on your feet as you walk to your bathroom, rubbing your tired eyes.

After a quick shower and putting on your favorite t-shirt and jeans, you feel less sluggish. You focus on going through your kitchen pantry to find something for your growling stomach.

Although you wish that you were still sleeping soundly in your bed, you think of how rare it is to get to see this city both at the dead of night and when it’s slowly starting to wake up. To be able to greet the light in your living room as it dances across the pictures on your walls and you mill about with your bowl of cereal.

The pictures lined up on your walls remind you of the project that you started last week that you need new photos for. You go to your closet and get the bag that holds your digital camera. Your mind is buzzing at the thought of taking it to the park before it gets too crowded.

You put on a jacket and shoes, pull your camera bag over your shoulder, and head out into the chilly Sunday morning.

********************

You round the corner of your block and start making your way down the steep hill, admiring the multicolored houses across the street that are glowing softly in the morning light. A smile spreads across your face as you reach into your bag for your camera and your fisheye lens. Once you’ve captured a few shots that you’re happy with, you move on toward the park.

You’re coming up on Harry’s building, and you instinctively glance up at the second story bay window that you know belongs to his apartment. Because this side of his building is still in the shade at this point in the day, you can see that his light is on.

“What’s he doing up?” you think to yourself. He’s always been an early riser, but considering how late you both stayed up, you would hope that he had been able to get some extra sleep.

As soon as the thought crosses your mind, Harry appears in the window. His blinds are wide open, so you can clearly see him stepping up to his record player and delicately placing the needle on the vinyl. A toothbrush hangs out of his mouth.

What your eyes are more drawn to, however, is his choice of clothing, or lack thereof. He’s standing in front of his window in nothing but a black t-shirt and a pair of underwear. You knew the t-shirt too well as the one he found at a thrift store years ago and became obsessed with after reading the ‘Treat People With Kindness’ logo on the front. He steps back from the record player and tilts his head back to brush his teeth. You watch as his jaw flexes and is accentuated by the light scruff of facial hair along it.

It’s becoming alarmingly clear to you that you are alone in the middle of the sidewalk, about thirty feet away from your best friend’s window, ogling him as he’s minding his own business. As much as your palms are sweating and your stomach is doing somersaults at the prospect of being spotted, you cannot bring yourself to continue walking. You wouldn’t mind becoming a permanent part of the sidewalk if it meant having this kind of view.

Harry turns and walks away from the window. You finally snap out of your daze and hurry past his window, thankful for the help of the downhill slope to move you along. Once you get to the corner of the block, you stop and lean your back against the building. Lightly smacking your forehead, you mutter out loud to yourself, “What the hell was that?”

********************

The trip to the park turned out to be a perfect way to spend the morning. You ended up taking a lot of pictures of murals and flowers before the park started to get too busy.

With your favorite album playing through your headphones, your mind is now buzzing with the excitement of having new photos to edit.

Once you cross the street, you’re now standing on the corner of your block. One way would lead you once again past the window to Harry’s apartment. The other way would help you avoid another potentially awkward sighting, but was much longer and usually includes lines for overcrowded restaurants.

Keeping your head down, you continue walking straight ahead in the same direction that you came from.

As you’re hiking up the hill, you suddenly hear a voice that you know is not coming through your headphones. You turn your volume down and listen to your surroundings. Plain as day, someone behind you shouts your name. You rip your headphones out and whip around to see Harry waving at you from his window.

“Hey! You wanna come up for breakfast?”

Your feet are firmly planted to the sidewalk, much like they were about an hour ago when you stood in the same spot and ogled this man.

You opened your mouth, not knowing what to say, and pathetically jabbed your thumb in the general direction of your apartment. “Actually I… I-I was gonna-”

“I’ve got coffee from Trieste,” he says in a sing-song tone.

You internally roll your eyes and curse him for knowing that you can never deny coffee from your favorite place in town. Plus, wracking your brain for a good excuse to be on your way is becoming difficult due to the hunger pains starting up in your stomach. That bowl of cereal is only holding you over for so long.

You look up at his dimpled face and relax your shoulders, “Okay, yeah. Yeah I’ll come up.”

“I’ll unlock the door for you!” is the last thing you hear before he shuts his window and you make your way to the stairs.

You climb up to the second story and turn down his hallway. When you’re standing in front of his door, you can hear music playing.

You open the door and you’re met with the sounds of trumpets. Harry has Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” playing on his record player. He has it just loud enough to where it won’t annoy any of his neighbors, but it still fills every corner of the living room. It’s not the first time you’ve walked into a similar scene here. You know this to be one of his favorite songs to play in the morning.

You close the door behind you and take in the state of the room as you walk through. The instrument cases are a little more organized than they had been yesterday. Smaller ones are stacked up next to his workstation and the larger ones are stacked up in the corner next to his couch. His laptop sits open on the coffee table and a haphazard stack of blank paper repair tags sat next to it.

The camera bag on your shoulder is now starting to feel heavy, so you plop down on the couch. Your ears perk up at the sound of Harry singing along with the record from the kitchen.

“You can have an aeroplane flyin’. If you bring your blue sky back.”

Following the smell of coffee, you walk over to the doorway of the small kitchen. Harry is standing at the counter. Thankfully he is not wearing the outfit that you saw him in earlier. He’s wearing brown trousers and a cream colored flannel with black and green stripes. He also has on his signature pair of scuffed up black vans.

There is a small table and two chairs in the corner of the kitchen next to the window with a vase of sunflowers and a couple of books sitting on it. You walk over to the table to inspect the books more closely. Art as Therapy by Alain de Botton & John Armstrong and The Course of Love, also by Alain de Botton. Before you get the chance to flip them over and read the descriptions, Harry clears his throat.

“Coffee’s ready.” He sets the kettle down on the counter and dances his way over to the cupboard where he keeps his mugs.

You can’t stop the smile that spreads across your face, admiring his ability to always be so energetic in the mornings.

He takes the filter out of the chemex and chunks it in the trash before pouring the coffee into two mugs. The way he turns with a mug in each hand, extending one to you, is extremely reminiscent of last night. After you take the mug from his hands, he scoots past you into the living room. The volume of the music lowers to a faint background noise before he appears again in the kitchen.

“So,” he pauses to reach into the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and setting it on the counter, “what are you doing up so early? Figured you’d be in bed till noon. Seemed pretty exhausted last night.” He takes a long sip of coffee, waiting for your response.

Suddenly you’re doing everything to not look in his direction. Your eyes are shifting from the table to the flowers to the mug in your hands.

“Um… yeah I woke up at like 5:30 for some reason and couldn’t go back to sleep. So I just decided to take a walk with my camera.” Your last few words echo from your mug before you take a big sip.

Harry clicks his tongue. “M’ sorry, that sucks. Did you at least see anything interesting?”

You involuntarily gasp at his question, causing the coffee to go directly down the wrong pipe. Several harsh coughs erupt from your chest.

Harry acts quickly, muttering a quick “shit” before taking the cup from your hand and setting it on the table along with his. He steps behind you and you hear a chair scoot out from the table. His hands gently wrap around your upper arms, prompting you to have a seat. You fold over in the chair, gripping the edge of the table for stability. After a few more strong coughs, you’re finally able to catch your breath.

Harry’s fingertips rubbing soothing circles on your back sends electricity up and down your spine.

His hand slides off of your back as he steps away from you, “Alright? Want some water?” He’s already walking over to his cabinet and pulling out a glass before you respond.

Once you clear your throat, you croak out, “Yeah I’m fine, that’s fine.”

He sets the glass on the table in front of you, turns back to the carton of eggs on the counter and starts cracking some into a pan.

After taking some sips of your water, you say, “So I was going to ask you the same question. What are you doing up so early?”

“Well, funny enough, I also had to wake up around 5:30. I’ve got a client coming to pick up her trumpet this morning and I had to get everything sorted and clean up a bit before she got here.”

Nodding your head, you tease, “Oh yeah, it looks really good in there. Was starting to forget what your floor looked like.”

Your heart leaps at the sound of Harry’s belly laugh. “Wow. Wowwwwww. Already giving me a hard time. At this hour. Jesus.”

You laugh at his exaggerated reaction while he simply shakes his head.

There’s a knock at the front door. Harry reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Must be her, actually. I’ll be right back.”

“Do you want me to do those?” You stand up from your spot at the table and gesture to the pan.

“Sure, that’d be great, thanks,” he says over his shoulder when he exits the kitchen.

A moment later, you hear the sound of a woman’s voice greeting Harry. It sounds like they’re just standing in his entryway because you can’t really make out what either of them are saying.

Meanwhile, you go about scrambling eggs, making toast, and getting out plates and silverware. By the time Harry is back in the kitchen, you’re already starting to put everything on the table.

You pick up the books from the table and hold them up to Harry, “Where do you want these?”

“Oh uh, I’ll just put those on the coffee table.” When you hand them off to him, he holds up the copy of Art as Therapy. “This one’s for you though, make sure you take it with you today.”

You tilt your head in question.

“Just thought it looked like something you would enjoy. Saw it when I was looking for this other one.” He holds up The Course of Love.

Before you could say anything, he’s disappeared again into the living room.

Once you’re both sitting at the table and digging into your breakfast, Harry asks, “What are you doing tonight?”

You squint your eyes at him. “I mean, I don’t really have anything planned. Why do you ask?”

“Well that client that was just here offered me two free tickets to her jazz band’s show tonight as, like, an extra ‘thank you’.” He shrugs, “Might be fun to go to.”

With a straight face, you reply, “I can’t, I’m booked tonight.”

You stare at each other for a minute in silence trying not to crack a smile, until you both start snorting.

“I know you’re free because the bar is closed and Sarah is still sick.” Harry tosses his fork on his plate and leans back in his chair like he’s just won an argument.

You mirror him by crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair. “What if I have plans with Mitch? Sarah’s boyfriend?”

Harry furrows his brows and looks at you, baffled, “I know who Mitch is, why’d you have to say it like that?”

“Because I knew it would throw you off.”

“Alright, I��ll just take Mitch to the concert then.”

You drop your jaw and lightly kick his leg under the table. “What time is this concert?” You ask, slipping out of your teasing tone.

“It’s at seven.” Harry leans forward and lifts his coffee from the table, holding it up to you.

You grab yours from the table and clink it with his before finishing off the remainder of your coffee.

***********************

Back at your apartment, you’re leaning back in your chair at the desk in your living room, waiting for your pictures from today to upload on your computer. Your hands run over the smooth blue and green cover of Art as Therapy. In the few years that you have known Harry, you’ve swapped countless book recommendations back and forth, and the bookshelves in your apartments are constantly changing due to all of the borrowing you both do. You’ve even gotten each other books for birthdays and other holidays. This is the first book that he has bought for you completely unprompted. You hadn’t even heard of the author until today, so it’s not like he heard you mention in passing wanting to read his books.

You flip the book over and read the description, then flip to the first few pages to see a statement about the authors. “Their proposal is that certain great works of art offer clues on managing the tensions and confusions of everyday life and that, approached in the right way, art can help us answer both the intimate and the everyday questions we all ask ourselves.”

Quickly shaking yourself out of your own thoughts, you check the progress on your photos. Approximately 20 minutes remaining.

You huff, slap the book closed, and toss it on the desk before getting up and walking to your room. There’s an old shoe box on one of your shelves that you like to go through when you’re feeling sad or having a weird day, which feels about right at this moment.

You plop down on your bed and set the box in front of you, opening up the lid. The rush of nostalgia and warmth that comes over you when going through this box is overwhelming sometimes. It’s filled with miscellaneous photos that you’ve taken on your film camera over the past few years. There are some that capture your favorite buildings and murals throughout the city. There are a lot from when you went to the pride celebrations last year. The majority of the pictures in the box capture candid moments of your friends and family. These kinds of pictures are the ones that remind you of why you love photography so much and even after getting high marks on your work for the institute, these are the ones that you end up feeling the most proud of.

You see your friends from out of state standing in front of the Golden Gate Bridge from the time they paid you a surprise visit. Another one shows your cousin at his college graduation. There’s one of your friend and coworker, Sarah, and her boyfriend Mitch from the day you and Harry helped them move into their new apartment, proudly holding up the keys, smiling from ear to ear.

And then there’s quite a lot of Harry. Harry playing pool at a bar across town, Harry at the beach tossing a football with Mitch, a kind of blurry one of him going crazy at an Ariana Grande concert. You laugh out loud when you find the one of him proudly wearing your dress during a drunken game of truth or dare, and the one of him making a ‘kissy’ face at you in those obnoxious Gucci sunglasses that he wore for pretty much an entire summer. Sometimes you don’t realize how much you’ve experienced together until you go back and look at these pictures.

You’ve been flipping through them pretty quickly, but you come across one that makes you freeze. It’s from your friend’s birthday party a few months ago. You got someone to take a picture of yourself with Sarah and Mitch, but Harry decided to jump in. In the picture, Mitch is in the middle of you and Sarah, arms slung around each other’s shoulders, and Harry has his arms hugged tight around your middle and his cheek is pressed to yours. It could be seen as a form of affection, if his face wasn’t covered in icing from your friend’s birthday cake. The photo is perfectly timed to capture everyone’s shocked laughter.

Just by looking at this photo again, you can feel his smile against your cheek and his arms holding you close. It’s a feeling you’ve been wanting more of ever since that night. Maybe that’s the ‘intimate question’ you’ve been asking yourself- Do you really want more with Harry?

**April 26th, 2020. 6:58pm**

You’re sure nobody on the street could miss you and Harry. After saying quick ‘thank you’s to the uber driver, you grab hands and start jogging toward the entrance of the SFJAZZ Center- a three story building with windows wrapping all the way around. The show is supposed to start in two minutes. You would have arrived much earlier if Harry hadn’t left the tickets on his kitchen table. You’re both dodging and weaving through people on the sidewalk, you in your favorite floral dress and Harry in a bold green suit jacket.

Once in the lobby, you both reduce your pace to a brisk walk and you readjust the bag on your shoulder. Harry’s hand is still holding yours as you’re both scanning the lobby for the right place to go. You spot a couple of employees closing doors labeled ‘main hall seating’.

“Over here,” you say, pulling Harry along with you.

Luckily, you’re able to catch the ushers in time to show them your tickets and be let in. The expansive auditorium is filled with the sound of chattering people and musicians warming up their instruments.

Thankfully, your seats are in a row toward the back and to the left of the stage, so you don’t have to make too big of a scene when scooting past people. Right when you settle in, the house lights dim, the chatter rapidly dies down, and the band on the stage goes silent.

The lull is soon replaced with applause when a woman walks out and stands center stage. She introduces herself as the director of programming and welcomes the audience. “Thank you all for being here tonight. Your support means so much to this center as we continue to make music and art and do what we love to do.” She pauses to hold up a booklet in her hands. “As you may have seen in your program, tonight’s performance is a special one.”

For the first time, you glance around the room and notice almost everyone but you and Harry has a program in their lap or held in their hands.

The woman on stage continues. “Some of you may know this, and some of you may not, but April is the birth month of American jazz singer, Billie Holiday. So, to honor her legacy, this lovely band sitting behind me has put together arrangements of some of her greatest hits.” Applause fills the room once again.

“Some of the performances tonight will feature vocalists and some will be done with the band only, so I hope everyone will find something they enjoy. Now, without further ado, I present to you A Little Love, with Billie Holiday.”

There is applause for a third time, but your hands are suddenly too heavy in your lap to join in. As the director exits the stage and another woman, presumably the vocalist, takes her place, your mind is reeling at the situation you’re currently in. How have you wound up at a jazz concert dedicated to love, that you decided to attend on a whim, with your best friend that you suddenly have overwhelming feelings for?

All of the subtle signs and notions of feelings you have had over the years have turned into blaring alarms, and they’re all pointing to one person. The man sitting right next to you, who is also sitting stock still in his seat.

There’s a drumroll from the stage followed by a light and smooth saxophone solo that brings you back into the moment. The vocalist begins the captivating first verse of Billie Holiday’s You Go to My Head.

You go to my head

And you linger like a haunting refrain

And I find you spinning round in my brain

Like the bubbles in a glass of champagne

You slowly sink about three inches down into your seat. You wish you had a program now so that you could at least use it to fan your face. You reach your hand up to dab at your forehead.

At the same time Harry takes a deep breath and lightly trills his lips while itching the bridge of his nose.

The vocalist continues to sing the lyrics that are hitting you directly in the gut.

The thrill of the thought

That you might give a thought to my plea

Casts a spell over me

Still I say to myself “Get a hold of yourself”

Can’t you see that it never can be

You glance around the auditorium as much as you can without turning your head in Harry’s direction, wondering if anyone else is feeling the temperature rise or the tension that seems to be wrapped around the both of you.

You go to my head

With a smile that makes my temperature rise

Like a summer with a thousand Julys

You intoxicate my soul with your eyes

Though I’m certain that this heart of mine

Hasn’t the ghost of a chance in this crazy romance

You go to my head

Your mind is reeling yet again at the situation you’re in. This must be some kind of elaborate prank that the universe is pulling on you. You’re half expecting a spotlight to fall on you and Harry that nobody in the room would even question.

The feeling doesn’t lift as the concert goes on. Soulful songs about a lover’s eyes, falling in love, how easy it is to live when you’re in love. Even where there is not a vocalist, you seem to know what the songs are implying.

Something that comes up in your rapid stream of thoughts is the author’s note you read earlier, “approached in the right way, art can help us answer both the intimate and the everyday questions we all ask ourselves.” You ask yourself the question again: Do you want more with Harry?

You think about the pictures of the times you’ve spent together. Crazy shifts at the bar, days in the park, breakfasts, dinners, late nights staying up talking about god knows what. You know the answer. You’ve always known the answer.

It seems like your heart has caught up with your thoughts, because it’s pounding in your chest.

Halfway through the final song of the night, you decide to steal a glance at Harry. Slowly turning your head, you peek through the corner of your eye.

A quick jolt of electricity runs through your entire body when you see that Harry already has his eyes on you. You turn your head back to the stage, but you can still feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head.

When thunderous applause breaks out after the final song, Harry turns his head back to the stage as you both limply clap along with the audience.

******************

This is the most quiet car ride of your life. There isn’t even any music being played in the background. The only words that have been exchanged between you and Harry since the concert ended were when he asked you if it was okay for the uber to just drop you both at your building and you answered with a simple ‘sure’.

There are so many feelings swirling around in you that you don’t know what to do with, and you definitely don’t want all of them to spill out in this stranger’s car, so you keep your jaw clenched as you look out of the window.

The car comes to a stop outside of your building and you both mutter ‘thank you’s as you climb out. You both silently make your way through the lobby, up the stairs, and down the hallway to your door.

Just last night you were making the same trip. You were making light jokes about wanting to steal Harry’s jacket and he was joking back, accusing you of wanting him to freeze to death. You had to remind each other not to laugh so loud so you wouldn’t disturb anyone. Now the only sound in the hallway is your shoes on the floor.

Once you reach your door, you open your bag and start digging for your keys. “Thanks, um, thanks for inviting me. It was a really good show.” You find your keys and push them into the lock before turning your eyes to Harry.

He has one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… Yeah it was... it was fun. Glad you could come with me.” He moves his hands from their places and awkwardly moves his arms out for a hug.

You smile and let out a sharp exhale through your nose at the awkwardness of this whole situation, but you gladly reciprocate the hug. Your arms completely wrap around each other, your hands tightly gripping his jacket. You can smell his cologne, like ginger and honey and cedar, and it’s making your head spin. You embrace for a few seconds and then release each other.

Harry sighs, “Alright, I’ll see you later then.”

“Okay, see you later.”

Harry shoves his hands in his pockets and slowly takes a few steps to turn away.

You turn the key in the lock, then turn your head to watch Harry take his first few steps away from you. You don’t want him to get any further.

“Harry?”

He stops and turns around to face you. “Yeah?”

You cannot believe the question that’s coming to your mind, but it’s the only thing that’s been coherent enough to put into words. You gulp and take a deep breath before asking, “Do you… do you still wish you could kiss me?”

You watch about three different emotions pass across Harry’s face. His mouth opens, his head tilts to the side, then his mouth closes and his eyes shift to the floor.

You feel a flood of regret. He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember. That was stupid. He doesn’t remember. Just play it off.

You know your face is flushed with embarrassment as you speak softly, “I’m sorry. I just. That night that you were really drunk and I brought you back here, you said that you wish- that you wished y-”

Hearing Harry say your name stops your rambling. “Don’t be sorry. I know what I said.” He’s eyeing you cautiously and taking a couple of steps toward you again. “And… yeah. I still wish I could kiss you. Felt that way for… a while now.”

Tears are brimming your eyes as you look into his, trying to absorb what he’s just said. Then it’s almost like the floor beneath you tilts in his direction, nudging you to move forward until you’re standing directly in front of him. You can smell his cologne again.

With your eyes still locked into his, you slowly raise your hands to place them on the back of his neck, thumbs stroking the corners of his jaw.

After taking a shaky breath, you whisper, “I wish I could kiss you, too.”

Harry gulps and shifts his eyes down to your lips. He takes a deep breath through his nose before you feel his hand lightly grip your waist and his other hand takes a similar position on your neck.

You both stand there for a few breaths, eyes roaming over each other’s faces.

You start to lean in and then stop about half way and close your eyes. You’re both just waiting to see who will close the gap.

After a moment, you feel Harry’s grip on your neck and waist tighten and you feel him leaning in. Then his lips are on yours. They’re on yours again and again. You tilt your heads to deepen the kisses and he takes a step toward you. You follow his lead until your back is pressed against your door.

As much as it pains you to do so, you have to stop so you can catch your breath. You reach one of your hands into his hair and lightly pull him away. Both of you are breathing in sync.

Once your breathing is evened out, you lock eyes with Harry. Your heart flutters when you exchange shy but knowing smiles and his thumb gently strokes your cheek.

After clearing your throat, you move your hand to your door knob. “Do you want to come in?”

Harry glances at your hand then returns his eyes to yours. He purses his lips and takes a sharp breath in. “I just want to know what you want.”

What just happened a few seconds ago already seems monumental to you. After the emotional roller coaster of this day, you’re not sure whether or not you’re ready for more tonight.

You take your hand from the doorknob and run it along his shoulder to return it to its previous position on his neck. “Honestly, I’m so fucking exhausted from today.” You watch as Harry nods his head in understanding. “I think all I want tonight is to hold you,” you notice the softness in his eyes, the same softness that you noticed for a fleeting second in the bar last night. “And keep kissing you.” This makes a lopsided smirk pop onto his face. “And I want to talk in the morning. About us.”

Harry leans in and presses a sweet peck to your lips. “I think we can do that.”

*******************

If anyone would have told you that your day was going to end with you and Harry in your bed, your head on his chest, and him running his fingers soothingly over your back, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“Harry?” you say softly, just as your eyelids are starting to get heavy.

His fingers stop for a moment, “Yeah?”

Thinking over the sequence of events that led you to where you are now, you start to erupt into sleepy giggles. “Did you know that the performance was gonna be,” you pause, trying to find the right word, “that?”

Harry lets out a deep belly laugh and when you glance up at him, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “I couldn’t have planned that if I tried.”

Before you know it, you’re both laughing uncontrollably, recounting the insane timing of the whole situation.

Harry rolls to his side so that he’s facing you and places a lingering kiss on your lips. “I’ll have to tell that client that any repairs she wants are on the house now.”

You throw your head back laughing and he pulls you into his chest, smothering your neck with kisses before resting his chin on top of your head.

If this is all you could have for the rest of your life, just a little love from each other, you would never want anything more.

************************************************************

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tuanyiems · 4 years

Text

Chocolate Dipped Strawberries

Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 3.8k plot: during closing hours, you decide to teach your boyfriend a little bit about self-care, established relationship!au, valentines!au warnings – oral (m receiving), public sex, food play, cum play, super slight degradation, health code violations oops lol a/n – part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

With Valentine’s Day just around the corner, your boyfriend, the chocolatier, was busier than ever. He’d go in early to ensure there was enough time and enough batches of decadent desserts to last throughout the day and then he would stay late, concocting new recipes and delicately hand wrapping boxes of chocolates in gold foil and red ribbons.

It was heartwarming, seeing the effort he put into his craft. You just wished it didn’t have to come at the cost of losing your boyfriend every time the holidays came around.

It’s midnight when you feel the other half of your bed sink in and Yugyeom’s sweet scent wafts around you. No matter how many showers he took, Yugyeom always smelled like chocolate. It was a trait you loved about him, nosing at his skin and sneaking inhales whenever you got the chance. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought he was made of chocolate.

You roll in your sheets, pout on your lips.

“Sorry, babe, did I wake you?” he whispers, slotting himself beside you, a familiar palm rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back.

You shake your head, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “It just feels like forever since I last saw you.”

“I know,” he lets out a sigh. “I miss you too. Just one more week and things will settle down.”

You frown, at the familiar words. He’s been telling you this almost every night this week. “Do you have to work so hard though?”

He smiles softly and even in the dark, you can tell there’s a glimmer in his eyes. “A little extra effort on my part can be a touch of magic for someone else. If my chocolates can give someone a little courage to speak what’s in their heart, or lift someone’s spirits at the end of a hard night, it’s worth it, don’t you think?”

You press a hand to his cheek, softly. Your pout easily melts into a smile of endearment.

You can tell he really means what he says. You think Yugyeom is magic, himself. He’s a chocolatier before he’s a businessman and he is a sweet and kind soul before anything else.

“Besides,” he adds, planting a kiss to your palm. “You had my peppermint chocolates and fell head over heels for me. I just want to do the same for someone else.”

You roll your eyes. “It wasn’t just the chocolates.”

“But it played a part,” he lifts a cocky brow and it makes you giggle. But it is too late in the night to be unraveling your love for this man. So, you place your heart in the kiss you plant on his lips and hopes it conveys the message.

“Maybe it played a small part,” you finally whisper, head sinking into the warmth of his chest. “But it’s definitely not in the top ten reasons why I fell for you.”

You can feel a soft rumble of his laugh against your ear.

“What’s in the top ten then?”

You respond with a gentle squeeze on his bicep and a quiet, “Go to sleep, Gyeom.”

When Valentine’s Day rolls around, Yugyeom calls your office phone telling you he’s keeping the store open late. You’re not surprised. You were expecting this to happen and you were glad his store was doing so well, but you can’t help feeling disappointed still.

While everyone in your office was talking about their dinner plans for tonight, all you could do was stir your coffee quietly.

“What’s with the long face?” Jackson teases you. “You act like you didn’t receive the biggest gift basket in the office.”

You smile back shyly. This morning Yugyeom had caused a huge ruckus at your workplace when he sent over a giant gift basket filled with roses and your favorite chocolates. You were grateful of course, but you would’ve traded the grand gesture for the man, himself, any day.

“Let me guess,” Jackson continues. “He’s hard at work today too?”

You nod, a small pout on your lips. “Which is to be expected. I wish I could at least be there with him though.”

Last year, Valentine’s Day fell on a weekend, so you were able to spend the whole day at the store with him. He was apologetic about spending your first ever Valentine’s Day like that, but you had had fun. You were surrounded by chocolates and love and Yugyeom. It was a perfect day.

“You still have the night together though,” Jackson sends you a playful wink and you blush, almost spilling your coffee at his teasing.

“B-but, he’s keeping the store open late,” you stutter, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Exactly, he’ll be tired. You should take care of him,” he looks at you with raised eyebrows and a knowing smirk.

“You don’t think…I’ll be a bother?”

Jackson only laughs, making you feel even more embarrassed. “Oh, Y/N, what are we going to do with you? I’ve only met Yugyeom a few times but even I know that boy if whipped for you.”

Your eyes widen and you make a face at your colleague. “I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around. You should’ve seen how I acted when we first met. I was a mess.”

“That’s not how Yugyeom told the story though.”

You shrug, looking genuinely puzzled. “Beats me, I keep telling him to get his eyes checked.”

Jackson laughs, shaking his head. “Trust me on this one, surprise him tonight! He’ll love it!”

You only shake your head, throwing a chocolate bar at him as he walks off. But Jackson’s advice lingers in your mind for the rest of the day.

When the cold February air hits your bare legs it sends a thrill of excitement up your spine. You curl into your winter coat, attempting to walk faster against the winter wind. You had been debating about whether or not to surprise him at the store or at the apartment but when Bambam called you about his own Valentine’s Day plans, you knew Yugyeom was going to be at the store alone.

A part of you was worried, although a part of you is almost always worried. The nervousness lingers in your belly even as you take hold of the door handle. Just as you expect, Yugyeom forgets to lock the door despite it being closing hours. The familiar bell dings as you step in and as you fumble with the locks on the entrance, something else ignites inside of you—excitement.

“Oh, sorry we’re closed!” Yugyeom’s frantic voice greets you.

You turn to him with a smile and when he sees you, his surprise melts into delight.

“You forgot to lock the door again,” you respond, in answer to his questioning eyes.

He let out a tired breath, running his fingers through his hair. “Maybe I was keeping it open for my pretty guest to arrive.”

You grin, walking behind the counter to take him into your arms. “I hope I’m not making her wait too long.”

He chuckles, pressing you to his chest. “She’s right here.”

You smile, pulling away to press a kiss to his lips. “How was work? Did you sell a lot?”

At your question, his eyes sparkle. “We sold out all of our heart boxes and premium chocolates. And just as you suggested, the chocolate dipped strawberries were a hit.”

“Aw, are those sold out too?”

Yugyeom lifts a brow, looking all too proud. “Of course, I saved you a batch!”

“My hero!” You cheer.

“Is that what you came here for?” He feigns a pout. “I’m almost finished here, and then we can go home together.”

“I didn’t come here just for chocolate strawberries—or, I mean…not at all actually.” You licked at your suddenly dry lips and Yugyeom arched his brows.

Of course, he was used to you stumbling over your words. After a year and four months since meeting you, he’s seen plenty of fumbling on your end. However, it’s been a while since your nervousness was directed at him.

He looks at you, a little apprehensive himself. “Is everything okay?”

You swallow, nodding strongly. Finally, you blurt, “It was your eye mole!...Not the chocolates.”

“Huh?” Yugyeom looks at you completely baffled now, but he’s smiling again.

“Last night! You said it was the peppermint chocolates. It was your eye mole. Actually, all your moles,” you ramble, feeling a heat creeping to your cheeks. “I like how they sit across your cheeks like constellations.”

Yugyeom slips his hands into the pockets of his red apron, shoulders relaxing as he looks down at your embarrassed face. “You came all the way here to tell me that?”

“That’s um,” you clear your throat, glancing down at the almost empty glass counter. “That’s reason number ten.”

Yugyeom breaks out into a smile, understanding finally dawning on him. “Top ten reasons why you like me?”

You look at him, a small, shy smile meeting his. “Number nine is when we cook together in the kitchen, and you can reach that stupid top cabinet made for giants.”

Yugyeom throws his head back, laughing.

Your eyes brighten and continuing, you tell him, “The eighth reason is how you eat like a 5-year-old.”

He looks at you fondly, leaning on the counter. “My fries are your fries, baby.”

You smile, taking a step closer so you can reach into his pocket. You pull his hand out, touching his fingers with yours. You look at his fingers for a moment, then down to his feet, and back up again.

“I like that even though your legs go on for days, you still walk at my pace.”

He rubs his thumb against your hand. “Reason six?”

You lift your head, grinning up at him. “Remember when we first started dating and I told you I hated being called baby?”

“Well that was an obvious lie though,” he answers easily.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “I’m glad you called me baby anyways.”

“Because you’re my baby,” he tells you softly, fingers squeezing between yours.

“I love that you can read me like a book,” you whisper, leaning into him. “Even though I was a complete idiot in front of you, still am sometimes, you don’t hold it against me.”

“Never an idiot, only a cutie,” he chuckles, tucking a hair behind your ear.

“The third reason why I love you is because you put your whole heart into what you do.” You eye him with a slight pout. “Even though, sometimes it’s annoying when you’re still here when you should be with me.”

He looks at you apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“But I love that you’re a romantic and believe in making the world a better place.”

Yugyeom smiles bashfully at you. You think you even see a hint of rose coloring his cheeks.

“You make me want to do the same,” you confess.

“Yeah?”

You take in a deep breath, nodding slightly as you take a step back. “And, I want to start with you.”

Yugyeom looks at you curiously, but the question gets caught in his throat when your fingers come to the zipper of your winter coat. Underneath is a dusty rose, velvet dress, hanging just above your knees. To the unassuming eye, it is a fairly innocent dress for the holiday.

But you know better. You can see it in the way your boyfriend’s pupils expand, eyes growing dark as he swallows. Yugyeom loves the way this dress hugs your curves, the way he can peek into the valley of your chest when you’re standing right next to him like this. He loves running his fingers across your waist and pulling you into him, loves the way his dick feels when he’s rubbing himself raw against the soft fabric.

So, when you fold your coat and place it on the counter, all the while, batting your eyelashes up at him, you both know just how screwed he is.

You haven’t even touched him yet, but you can tell from the rising of his chest how wound up he is.

“You’ve been working so hard, baby,” you whisper, grabbing softly at the edge of his apron and tugging him towards you. “Let me take care of you.”

You pull him into you, tiptoeing until his lips meet yours. Tentative at first, like he is savoring the soft plush of your lips. When you break into the tiniest of whimpers, it clicks a switch in Yugyeom. Tangling his tongue around yours, you lose track of your thoughts. All you can feel are his hands palming against you, kneading at the velvet covering your breasts. When you push yourself harder into him, you can feel his hardness press into your thigh through the fabric of his apron and jeans.

“Let’s get this off,” you smile up at him, undoing the strings of his apron. He bites his lip, lids heavy. It’s wrong how innocent you look while palming him through his jeans. When you giggle softly and slip his belt out of its loops, it brings a guttural sound from his throat.

You pause, lifting a brow at him.

He whispers you name, pouting. He looks so cute, you almost forget your plans to ruin him. But the twitch of his bulge beneath your palm reminds you otherwise and brings another devious smile to your lips.

“You said you saved some treats for us?”

The hitch in his throat is the only answer you need. When you come back from the kitchen, two bowls of strawberries and melted chocolate in your arms, he almost loses the strength in his legs. You stop in front of him, putting the bowls on the counter.

“Let’s get you more comfortable, huh?” you suggest, slipping your fingers into his jeans.

“Babe,” he sucks in, feeling your cold fingers over his boxers.

You smirk, pressing your lips to his throat. “Shh, let me take care of you.”

“W-we’re in public,” he whispers but you notice that he makes no move to stop your hands from tugging his jeans past his ass.

“I know,” you smile, pressing yourself closer into him. You wrap your fingers around his clothed cock and feel him twitch. “And you like it, don’t you? You nasty boy, you want someone to see us through the windows, don’t you?”

You dip a finger into the bowl of chocolate and wipe it across his lips before slipping it past his mouth. You can feel your own arousal pooling in your panties when his warm tongue wraps around you, lapping at your finger like a hungry puppy.

With your free hand, you tug at his boxers until his cock springs free. You can’t help the moan that escapes you when you wrap your hand around his hot member. The tip is already red and glistening with precum.

“Look at you, Gyeom,” you breathe out and he sucks on your finger harder. “You’re already so hard just thinking about someone walking in on us. Let them see how you make me feel when I’m choking on you.”

“God,” he groans, pulling your hand away to kiss you roughly, sucking on your bottom lip until it stings. He yanks the flimsy straps of your dress off your shoulder and the rosy fabric falls to your waist, showcasing your bare chest, already stiff with arousal.

He kisses down your throat, sucking until purple blossoms across your skin. You moan, too distracted by the excitement of his fingers massaging your nipples to care about the bruises you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. When he leans down to suck at one of your nipples, you both moan in unison—you, from the electric feeling of his tongue on you and him, from the way he rubs his dick into the scrunched fabric at your waist.

Everything is so soft and warm, it makes Yugyeom feel lightheaded. He loves the way you turn into putty in his arms, how soft your boobs feel in his hands, how easily your nipples go hard around his tongue. He loves how your shiver from the way he rubs himself into you, how fucking heavenly this dress feels against his cock. Thinks he could cum just like this.

You’re so worked up too, you almost forget why you came all the way here.

“Gyeom,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair before reluctantly, pushing his head away. He groans in response, rutting against your thigh a final time before looking back at you with lidded eyes. You take a strawberry and hold it up for him to bite into and with the strawberry in his mouth, you sink down to your knees.

“It’s my time for dessert,” you smile up at him, taking the bowl of melted chocolates down with you.

Dipping your fingers into the chocolate, you keep your eyes on Yugyeom as you suck on one of your digits, letting the rest of the chocolate drip down your chin and onto the valley of your breasts.

You chuckle when he moans, running his fingers through your hair.

“Babe, you’re killing me,” he mutters, pushing your head lightly towards him.

You hum, teasingly, pressing another finger into your mouth and moaning at the sweetness on your tongue.

“Please,” he stutters, his cock twitching desperately.

You giggle, looking up at Yugyeom. He looks so wrecked and you haven’t even done anything to him yet. Deciding to spare him, you dip your hand in the chocolate again and hover it above him. You smile in satisfaction, watching as the chocolate drips down the red tip of his cock and down the protruding veins of his cock.

“Fuck,” Yugyeom whispers, eyes dilating when you lick your lips. “Babe.”

Finally, you take him into your mouth, licking tentatively at his tip before pulling away again. His sigh leaves him as a half-whine, half-cry. You hold in your laugh though Yugyeom notices your shit eating grin anyways. But before he can complain, you grab onto his thigh for support and begin lick up the mess you made.

Yugyeom groans when your mouth is back on him, licking him all over like a desperate kitten. He runs his fingers through your hair, eyes glancing up. He had dimmed the lights of the store before you arrived but the streetlamp in front of the store shines through the window regardless. He wonders if anyone can see you behind the glass counter. The bopping of the top of your head leaves little to the imagination.

He smiles down at you when you moan around his cock, tongue running a stripe up chocolate-covered veins. How did he get this lucky? Your tongue feels so soft around his dick and the chocolate smeared messily around your lips makes him want to do even dirtier things to you.

“You’re so good, baby,” he says and watches you glow at the compliment.

“You taste delicious,” you whisper, cheeks pink.

Yugyeom thinks you almost look like your shy self again. The thought is quickly wiped from his mind when you dip down, wrapping your small fingers around him eagerly. He almost chokes on his own spit when you lick at the chocolate dripping off his balls before sucking it into your mouth entirely.

“Fuck!” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut as you suck on his balls, massaging him in your mouth as your fingers tease at his tip, rubbing the precum leaking from his slit and smoothing it down his pulsating cock.

You whimper eagerly when he tightens his grip in your hair and pulls you. You let go of his balls with a light pop.

“Enough,” he says darkly, and you feel your own arousal leaking down your thighs. His grip on your scalp is tight but the sting only succeeds in sending another tingle down to your core. He pushes you closer until his dick is slapping you across the cheek.

“Look at you,” he chuckles lowly when the residue of chocolate, saliva, and precum mark both sides of your cheek.

You stick out your tongue in response, catching a fleeting taste of him every time he slaps himself across your cheek.

“Such a pretty little cumslut,” he smirks. “You love me so much?”

“I do,” you whine and despite himself, Yugyeom flushes.

He lets go of your hair before taking a hold of his cock. He lines his tip to your lip. “Then open up, baby.”

You don’t hesitate, sucking all of him in. The saltiness of his precum mixes with the lingering chocolate on your tongue and makes you moan. You love his taste on your tongue, love how he fills your mouth. You take him deeper, eliciting another moan from his lips.

You mouth is so soft and hot around him and the vibration of your moans feels heavenly. When your fingers come up to massage his balls, he almost loses it, rutting himself harder into your mouth.

It takes you by surprise, but you take him in stride, taking in a deep breath of his heady scent and allowing him deeper into your throat.

Yugyeom curses, feeling his thighs tense as you take in all of him. You look so beautiful like this, tears streaming down your dirty cheeks as his cock hits the back of your throat. When you swallow around his cock, he loses it.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good to me,” he groans, fisting around your hair and thrusting harder into your mouth. “I love you so much!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hallowing your cheeks. When you squeeze around his thighs, the shaking of his legs fills you with pride.

You almost whine when he pulls out of your mouth.

“Baby,” Yugyeom whines, one hand on the back of your head while the other rubs desperately at his dick. “Baby.”

“Cum on my face,” you answer for him, eyes still teary when you smile up at him before sticking your tongue out.

“Fu-” the swear quickly leaves Yugyeom as a whine as he cums onto your face. The hot, white cum hits your face in two spurts and then another across your chest.

You grin wickedly, licking his tip clean until it is too much for Yugyeom and he pulls away. You giggle wiping at the cum dripping down your cheek and pop it between your lips.

Yugyeom can only sigh, shaking his head in disbelief as he helps you back up to your feet. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You grin, dipping a strawberry into chocolate and popping it into your mouth. “I know!”

#got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 imagines #kim yugyeom #got7 smut #fanfic #got7 series #le chocolatier

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sherrybaby14 · 4 years

Text

Blue Spiders - Chapter 2

Summary: Fear pushes your relationship along.

Warnings: Light horror, background alcohol, (I have not warned for everything possible, please read at your own risk)

Words: 2k

Pairing: Therapist! Steve Rogers x female reader

Part One

She lived in an apartment. That was problematic. Houses were much easier to break in to undetected. At least it wasn’t in a great neighborhood and the locks on her doors were pathetic. All he needed was a credit card to break them. He accomplished that task this morning.

Steve in no way wanted her death tied to him or the New England Butcher. The kill would be a quick one. Gunshot, he hoped for a mugging gone bad, but it appeared she never left her place after dark.

Ten days he had been watching her, observing, waiting for the moment to strike. But she was always home before sundown, never to retreat again. He wouldn’t risk a daytime public murder. Too many loose ends.

It looked like the next option would be breaking and entering. Doable, but not ideal. Look like a robbery. Bullet to the head and the world would have one less awful person in it.

Under normal circumstances Steve felt nothing when preparing for a kill. Sometimes a mild rush of glee during the act and then a bit of euphoria after, especially if it was a victim he intended Agent Barnes to tie to the New England Butcher.

But this felt different. Personal. The few times he spotted her during the day he felt betrayed. How could she lie to him about her identity to get a profile for some dumb blog? And why did he feel a connection.

His watch beeped and he checked the time. Three thirty in the morning. She would be fast asleep. It would be over soon. Then the euphoria would come just as it had with the others. He was certain of it.

The sound of his car door slamming echoed across the empty street as he began his walk in the shadows, four blocks away from his destination.

You didn’t believe in a sixth sense, or you didn’t want to, but something was off. Wrong. You were being followed. Could it be him?

You finally felt somewhat safe here. Comfortable enough you followed your passion and started to make a name for yourself. Sure Miranda’s Museum of the Macabre wasn’t a big deal yet, but you were growing a following and you loved that type of reporting.

The last few days you were cursing yourself for even starting the thing. Today when you got home and saw the locks weren’t working your paranoia vanished.

Whoever broke them was subtle about it. If you hadn’t been paranoid you wouldn’t have noticed, thought that the chain was shut tight when a light tap would drop it. The deadbolt hole was splintered and pressed back into place. Anyone with a driver’s license and a shoulder would be able to break the thing down.

The right thing would have been to run, or call the police. Neither option was intriguing. So you sat next to the thing, waiting in the darkness. Every time footsteps sounded outside the hall you steadied the shotgun, blinking away the tears that you might have to blow someone’s head off.

Maybe you were going crazy. The locks had always been broken and you only noticed now? Maybe nobody was following you. Just the ghosts of your past.

Then, at almost four in the morning after standing guard for eight hours footsteps stopped in front of your door.

Your adrenaline flared. You cocked the gun right as your knob started to turn. It froze. Fuck! They heard the noise.

The handle fell back in place. They were leaving. All the shaking you were feeling came flooding back.

You needed to open the door. Find out who they were, what they wanted. But instead you collapsed, hugging the shotgun as the footsteps retreated. Would you ever be safe?

Loss of sleep was an understatement. Tonight you would get a hotel room. Then decide if you wanted to call the cops, fix the door, or flee. Life was exhausting enough and it felt like you’d only just started living.

The door to the office opened and you rose to your feet, pinning on your best smile as Dr. Rogers walked a patient out.

His face looked cold, but his blue eyes widened with surprise.

“Hi.” You gave a nervous wave. “I have something for you.”

His patient waved goodbye as you stepped forward, article in hand.

“What is this?” He grabbed the pages.

“The article. I said I would send over a copy, but I thought with the way things ended I should drop one off in person.” You fidgeted, thinking about your run in with Barnes the last time. “As promised, a glowing puff piece. It will be in the weekend edition.”

You watched as his eyes’ scanned the pages. His brow furrowed in confusion.

“Is something wrong?” You rocked on your feet, hoping to see what line he was at. “I taped the interview, but if I messed up a fact or misspoke there is time to correct before it goes to print.”

“So the article was real?” The Doctor looked up at you with wide eyes. “It wasn’t a ruse for your blog?”

“Ah.” You bit your lip as you looked away. “I am sure Agent Barnes gave you an earful. Yes the story was real. I write human interest pieces, Miranda’s Museum doesn’t really pay the bills.”

“So this is your real name?” Steve squinted. “Rachelle Miller?”

“No.” You blinked. “I write under multiple pen names.”

“So what is your real name?” Steve folded his arms.

“Friends call me Vee.” You shrugged.

“That’s not what I asked.” His eyes locked on to yours.

You hadn’t spoken your real name in years. Legally it was changed, and with all the pseudonyms you used you hadn’t spoken it outloud in years.

“Well, um, I will get out of your hair. I am sure you have a busy day. E-mail me if there are problems with the article.” Your blood ran hot and you regretted coming here.

“No.” His hand reached out and grabbed your arm.

You glanced at his fingers and then turned to see his intensite eyes bearing into your own. His fingers slipped away.

“I mean with all do respect, but you look a little rough.” He nodded to his office. “Come in and have a drink. I owe you an apology.”

“Me?” You blinked and shook your head. “Did Bucky tell you I am just a gossip columnist and was lying to you? Using you for Miranda’s nefarious purposes?”

“Doctor-patient confidentiality.” He made a playful shrug.

“Yeah. I bet he left out the part where he asked me out nonstop for over a year until I was forced to write something nasty about him on my blog.” You thought about the person at your door last night, could it have been Bucky? He didn’t seem the most stable. “I may have crossed a line, but what I wrote wasn’t wrong and he, well I think anyone who has met the man isn’t afraid to use the word obsessive to describe him.”

“I cannot confirm, deny, or discuss Agent Barnes.” Doctor Rogers walked over to a small liquor cabinet. “What would you like?”

“Bourbon? Scotch?” You took a seat. “I’ll settle for anything brown with a nice burn.”

“Multiple pen names?” The doctor came back over and handed you a drink. “How many?”

“Three I use on the regular. I do a lot of freelance writing and they each have their own specialty. Then several one offs. I have used them one or two times and let them die.” You took a sip and let the liquid hit your tongue, wanting to swirl it around your mouth and wishing it would numb your mind in the same way.

“Care to share why?” He sat down and crossed his legs. “That seems like a lot of compartmentalism.”

“Not a patient.” You laughed as you leaned back.

“Let me guess, they are all as generic as Miranda Balfour, Rachelle Miller?” Dr. Rogers leaned back in his chair. “You want a legitimate digital footprint, but not one that can be traced back to you. Why?”

“You sound like Bucky.” You tilted your glass toward him. “Only he has decided Miranda must be my real name. I would not try to do a deep dive on me Doctor. I am not interested in opening up.”

“I am not your Doctor. Please, call me Steve.” His eyes scanned you up and down. “You look very tired. Late night? I hope it wasn’t on my behalf.”

“It was and it wasn’t. In that order.” You let out a sigh. “Since you’re not my doctor Steve, and you can’t think I’m crazy since there is no medical relationship. I think someone, no, I know someone tried to break into my apartment early this morning.”

“Did you call the police?” A look of horror crossed his face as he leaned forward. “You should not wait on that.”

“I am not a fan of cops and they are not my fan either.” You gritted your teeth before taking another sip. “I cocked my gun too early. Someone had been following me, all week. I felt it in my bones. And then I noticed my locks had been messed with. So I waited and I felt so paranoid, but then the clock hits 3:44 and the handle jiggles. I should have let the door open, blown their brains out without asking a single question. But they heard the noise. Ran off before I had the chance.”

“There is a lot to unpack there.” Steve reached out and touched your knee. “Are you safe?”

“No.” You smiled at him. “Never. I’m going to get a hotel room tonight. Figure things out from there. Get some sleep, a clear head.”

“If you think someone is targeting you, you shouldn’t stay alone.” His hand dragged away. “Friends or family you can stay with?”

“What was the line you used? My work doesn’t leave much time for personal relationships. I’m either writing a freelance story of working on the Miranda project. Hoping someday it takes off and I can do that full time.”

“I apologize for being so forward, but I can be your friend, or else your colleague in the work horse force.” Steve set his glass down. “And I have plenty of extra bedrooms.”

You didn’t mean to display the cringe, and tried to bury it down, but there was a pain on his face.

“That is a very kind offer.” You slammed the rest of your drink. “But you are not my doctor, or my friend, you’re a stranger right now and I wouldn’t feel comfortable imposing.”

“I understand.” Steve grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled as you stood up. “I would like to take you to dinner, are you free Friday?”

“Now you’re really going to think I’m crazy, but with the strange feeling I was being followed and the incident last night, I have been scared to leave my apartment after dark.” The liquor had relaxed your tongue too much. “Well, now hotel.”

“I will pick you up at your door, we can go to my place and I’ll cook for you, and then I will drive you home.” There was something in his voice, this was the first time he had made this request in some time. “You will be safe the entire time.”

“Alright.” You couldn’t explain it, but there was a feeling in your heart, like it was drawn to his. Not mental, like a strange string was pulling you tigher. “I am staying at the budget in on Wilcox.”

He opened his mouth, but shut it right away and nodded. You started to walk to the door and he followed. Being in his office was the most relaxed you’d been in some time.

“Friday then.” He slipped you a piece of paper, you opened it up to see a phone number.

“I can’t remember the last time someone didn’t just text me their number.” You smiled eat him. “You are old fashioned in all the right ways.”

“Feel free to put that in your phone and use it.” Steve looked serious. “Any time, day or night. I don’t approve of your distrust of law enforcement or wanting assistance, but I respect it. Never hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“Thank you.” You looked at the ground, not wanting to face those blue eyes again, scared if you did you would end up being a roommate at the man's house. “And thank you for believing me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He was taken aback.

“Sometimes I’m not even sure I believe myself.” You blinked away tears and squared your shoulders looking him in the eyes. “Anyone else would have told me it was late, I was tired, I almost killed a delivery man.”

“I look forward to continuing this conversation on Friday.” Steve gave a boyish grin. “Or sooner, if you need anything at all.”

“Friday then.” You folded up the piece of paper and put it in your back pocket.

It was odd to find something to look forward to and for a moment you wished you were crazy and not thinking about fleeing and starting over yet again.

A/N: Thanks for reading! This is turning into a bit of a slow burn, but I think the next chapter will heat up!

Tags: @toozmanykids

#steve rogers x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #hannibal #au #marvel fanfic

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uwua3 · 4 years

Note

hi bunnie! can i first just say that your name and blog are both so dang cute aaaa 🥺 can i request a best friend!izumi hc? 🥺👉👈 thank you so much 💛

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! YOU ARE THE CUTEST PERSON EVER~ i am in Love With You !!! also omg IZUMI ♡u♡ she is the Best Girl ever but #AllGirlsAreBestGirls !!! i love her so much, i’m so glad this was requested!!! i am so happy to write this ♡ PLEASE LOVE IZUMI!

summary: together, you and the currian are unstoppable! watching the cooking channel with your best friend just got even better

author’s note: i hope you love this 🥺 i am genuinely so soft over izumi she deserves the whole world

count how many times i say curry, it isn’t even Funny at this point T___T anyways, i was a bit nervous over this because i hadn’t watched the anime, so i didn’t know izumi well as a character! if all else fails, use the traits you know to the best of your ability! i love our curry queen regardless, though~

word count: 2,001

music: good as hell – lizzo ft. ariana grande

my best friend.

🍛 tachibana izumi

you, funny enough, met izumi at the grocery store in the spices aisle

you were unable to decide between which spices were necessary for the curry recipe you were about to attempt, staring at your phone screen with obvious confusion

what was the difference between each type of curry? which one was better? you scrolled down, reading off the countries,

“india, thailand, malaysia, china, south africa, japan...” you mumbled inaudibly before you heard a very distinct crash in the next aisle over. someone must’ve just hit their cart into a display or—

you saw a girl with long brown hair and pink eyes with... wait... were her pupils heart–shaped? you stumbled back as she approached like she was on a mission, standing a mere few feet from you as she smiled pleasantly at you like the situation wasn’t out of the ordinary at all

(oh no... was she one of those pyramid scheme scammers?)

“are you making curry?!” she questioned, leaning forward to glance at your screen only to squeal in excitement at the confirmation. you gulped, nodding with a tinge of doubtful fear

if you said yes, were you about to be attacked right here and now in the middle of a grocery store? you just wanted some curry...

“i’m so happy for you! do you need help? i know the perfect combination of spices for any type of curry! i can make a different curry for each day of the year!” she offered to help, putting her hands together with a pleading look like she was dying to talk about curry

you nodded again and her entire face lit up again, going off on a rant without taking a moment to breathe

she was so knowledgable on all types of curry! you took notes diligently, deciding on japanese chicken katsu curry as the meal for tonight

when you told her, she clapped her hands and giddily jumped up and down. it was honestly refreshing to see someone so enthusiatic about food!

“i’m sorry for randomly talking to you, but i just love curry! do you need help looking for the rest of the items?” she offered to help, already with an armful of the spices you needed and dumped them into your cart

you pondered, thinking as you looked at the girl. she was nice enough, and clearly wasn’t much of a threat if she was willing to approach a stranger without any discomfort

why not? you smiled, offering your hand out to shake as you introduced yourself. she took it quickly, enthusiatically shaking it up and down as she giggled

“izumi! glad to meet you!”

from that point forward, you two became best friends for life!

izumi was the life of the party and brought happiness wherever she went. not only that, but she was incredibly polite and kind! it wasn’t everyday you met a girl that was full of life and always determined to overcome any obstacle in her path!

izumi would go through anything and everything for her friends despite how busy she was 24/7. she juggled being the mankai director (which was babysitting 20 boys), helping other acting troupes, and cooking at night but still made time to see you at least every week

you weren’t surprised when you were encouraged to come over for a company dinner one night and saw so. many. variations. of curry set up at the table. like the other boys, you attempted to hide your grimace (but very poorly, you weren’t a trained actor like the rest of the entourage was)

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” izumi’s motherly instincts kicked in as she hurried to put her hand against your forehead. you had to pretend like you were coming down with a cold the rest of the week and forced the curry down your throat

(the boys secretly gave you water under the table, whispering advice on how to bear it and grin as they made up fake situations to pass your chair)

(the high schoolers just looked relieved to not be the victim that night)

(seriously... so. many. variations.)

(every time you were invited to a meet–up, you texted the groupchat named “stop the currian” to see if izumi was making curry)

(she always was. you still ate it because you loved her too much to say no)

but other than curry, izumi loved cooking! she was subscribed to sooo many culinary and baking channels on youtube. she loved sending you links with a follow–up text that said: “wanna make this tonight? i know you want to eat it! ;)”

(you complained about how it always ended in a minor food fight you had to clean up. you still let her in when she knocked on your front door with bags of groceries)

(after so many visits, izumi was beginning to be proficient at other forms of culinary like baking since you enjoyed it so much)

one time, you even convinced izumi to make her own youtube channel. you had set up a camera omi loaned on a tripod, acting as the best cameraman ever of course

(you had a clapperboard that had the production titled, “izumi is replacing bon appétit’s claire” with take 1 freshly written)

“you got this, izumi!” you encouragedly put a fist in the air, “fighting!”

izumi nodded cutely, wearing her favorite striped shirt with a pastel pink apron. she held a automatic whisk in her right and was already posing with a mixing bowl in her left, ready to demonstrate how to make your favorite dessert

(maybe you suggested the idea because you wanted food, who knows?)

counting down vocally, you watched as your fingers dropped down to a zero and the red light on the camera started blinking. it was go time, and izumi immediately got into action

“hello, everyone! my name is tachibana izumi and today we will be making—”

the camera fell off the stand as izumi’s whisk flew out of her hand and smacked the lense directly in the middle. a sickening thud echoed through the apartment as you two stood in shock, staring at the expensive camera with unease. it didn’t look... uh... functional?

you quickly put your finger on your nose since it was an unspoken rule that touching your nose automatically meant opting out. you were a second earlier than izumi as she gasped like she was offended

“i am not telling omi!” izumi freaked out, running over but the damage was already done. the camera definitely didn’t turn on anymore

(you and izumi bought the same camera that day and switched the memory cards) (omi raised his eyebrows at the sudden newness of his trusty camera, but didn’t say anything as he just took it and thanked you for bringing it back safe)

(yeah... omi definitely knew. but, he wasn’t too bothered to say anything about it)

(“izumi? what did you spend so much money on last month?” sakyo reviewed her financial statement, watching as she nervously sweat and glanced at omi. he just shrugged like he had no idea)

so you two stuck to mindlessly watching the cooking channel on the tv. it was the usual weekend: becoming insecure over the unreal and extremely talented kid bakers who made a whole 3–tier cake in two hours, making fun of america’s worst chefs when they didn’t know how to cut a chicken, and yelling at cheating cooks who were way too competitive on chopped

it was better that way, anyways. maybe going viral on the internet wasn’t meant for everyone. you still got your dessert, much to your satisfaction

(“yeah, yeah. it’s only because you’re my best friend.” izumi laughed, shoving the plate with extra servings as you stuffed your face. she just fondly rolled her eyes as you tried saying thanks with your mouth full)

(“gross!” izumi squealed, throwing the kitchen mitts at you as you fought back, nearly hitting her with one of the pastries. you already know what happens next. izumi stopped baking for you for a long time [a month] as punishment)

speaking of baking, izumi loved making the most ridiculous cakes you’ve ever seen in your entire life

on random days, she’d make the most creative cupcakes ever with individual designs with meticulous attention to detail

(izumi always had to slap masumi’s hands away from the white box she’d set aside specifically for you. he’d pout, hurt, wondering why she didn’t make any food other than curry for him)

(“masumi... you really need to look at other girls.” you remembered advising him, sympathetically patting his back as he angrily accused you of being in love with izumi, too! to this day, it’s still awkward on your end when you see masumi and he thinks you’re his lifelong competitor)

but on important celebrations like your birthday and anniversaries, her cakes were... something. they’d be the most delicious things on earth, but the design would be comically ugly. she’d put the most bare minimum art ever and write the words way too big and it wouldn’t fit. there were always misspellings. maybe it was a curse for being so well–rounded?

another fun fact was you and izumi were the ultimate power duo! whenever you two went to hang out in public, you always made sure some creep wasn’t staring at her and she did the same for you all the time

as friends, it was your job to make sure you two were as safe and sound as possible

(one time, an absolute douchebag tried to wolf whistle her and izumi had to stop you from getting into a fight in broad daylight)

izumi was way too nice. she was such a selfless person and often acted like the big sister you never had. she was always ready with the most agreeable advice and showed up with her arms open. she was so giving, it was easy to see why everyone loved her

but you liked giving back, too! (much to her surprise) you even tried your hand at making some new form of curry by throwing in random spices and calling it a day, but you realized she was the most critical judge ever for any type of curry

(you stopped making curry for her. she would narrow her eyes and push her imaginary glasses up like an anime character. it was terrifying, she always appreciated it but... you shuddered, izumi was scary)

once, you even rented that curry truck to come by for her birthday! you never saw someone look like they were this close to passing out from maximum happiness

(you even bought a director’s chair for her with izumi bedazzled across the back)

(she now sits in it to get that extra confidence boost before a big show)

but the most important gift that kept on giving was spending quality time with izumi when she needed it most

when the anniversary of her father going missing came back around, you were the first person at her room. with curry you knew she liked from that really one obscure place and all the time that day to make sure she way okay

(she was such a big sister! izumi always claimed she was fine and it was just another normal day, but you were always there to provide comfort she didn’t even know she needed)

you took time out of your day to help her with all her mudane tasks after you saw she once physically fainted from tiredness

(it almost gave you a heart attack the first time, but then you noticed tsuzuru also did that too so it must’ve been something in the mankai dorm air)

you then became a well known figure in the theatre community as “izumi’s best friend”

(you were not upset with that title at all, in fact, you hoped it never changed)

who knew you’d meet your best friend forever at a grocery store? over curry nonetheless?

(yes, you’re izumi’s best friend, but it doesn’t mean you’re exempt from the spices rant)

#tachibana izumi #izumi tachibana #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #izumi x reader #a3! izumi #a3 izumi

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waitimcomingtoo · 5 years

Note

Hi there! I am a huge fan of your writing. You’re so talented!! All of your stories are pure GEM!!! Anyway, I have a story idea: reader is tom’s childhood friend and she substituting Harry as Tom’s assistant during one of his filming. Only if you don’t mind :) Thaank you!!

Thank you so much!!

Old Friend

part two

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Masterlist

more like this:I might be the writer if we were a movie

“Are you serious?” Tom whined Into the phone.

“I know.” Harry sighed. “I’m sorry. But if I don’t make up my exam today, my professor is gonna fail me. There’s no way I can make it to set today.”

“It’s not your fault.” Tom didn’t want to put the blame on his brother. “I just really need an assistant. I get disorganized and stressed when you’re not there.”

“I know. That’s why I’m sending in a substitute assistant for the day.” Hardy replied.

“A substitute?” Tom sighed. “Who? I don’t really feel like teaching a stranger my whole schedule.”

“I already got them up to date on what they need to do.” Harry assured his brother. “And they’re not a stranger. You’ll know her when you see her.”

As if on cue, Tom heard a knock on his trailer door.

“Tom?” You asked as you entered his trailer. Tom turned to the voice and his eyes widened at the sight of his childhood best friend. You were grown now, as was he. Your baby face had melted into a beautiful young woman. Your hair was lighter and your skin tanner, no doubt from the LA sun. He hadn’t seen you since you were 10, and you told him with tears running down your face that you were moving to America after growing up next to each other all your lives. Tom let the phone fall from his hand and felt his throat dry out.

“Y/n?” He asked hopefully. “Is that really you?”

“I think so.” You smiled. That was something that hadn’t changed. You still had the same angelic smile Tom remembered from his childhood, and it made him smile back.

“I haven’t seen you since we were kids. God, I barely recognize you when you’re not in a princess dress.” Tom laughed, still taking you in.

“And somehow, you still look like a prince. Nice hair.” You nodded towards his quaff and he blushed in embarrassment. It felt like you had fallen right back into how you used to be, and Tom was loving it.

“Trust me, it wasn’t my decision.” Tom defended his Prince Charming-esk hair.

“I like it no matter who’s decision it was.” You shrugged with an easy smile. “I see you still like to wear the same clothes.” You pointed at his Spider-Man suit with a cheeky smile. You and Tom had grown up in love with the 16 year old superhero, and him playing him was a dream come true.

“Yep.” Tom agreed, thinking back to late nights on the trampoline pretending to be Spider-Man. “This ones a little fancier but a lot harder to use the bathroom in.”

“If I remember correctly, you never had a problem using the bathroom in uncomfortable costumes before.” You raised your eyebrows and Tom groaned.

“I pee my pants during one school play and you never let me forget it.” He whined.

“Just trying to keep you humble, movie star.” You winked. “And I can’t get over it since it was during my only speaking line.”

“I was nervous.” He declared.

“You were a tree!” You protested.

“A nervous tree.” Tom defended. “And I can promise you, I have not peed during any scene since then.”

“I hope not, because as your assistant, I’d have to help you clean up.” You pointed out.

“How’d you end up as my assistant anyway?” Tom wondered, not that he was complaining.

“I moved to LA a month ago to follow my career and I ran into Harry yesterday at a cafe. He told me he was about to fail some class and I asked what I could do to help, and this is what I could do.” You replied. 14 years missing each other and you just so happened to run into Harry in a cafe.

“I’m gonna feel bad making you do things for me though.” Tom realized. He didn’t want to boss the only girl he ever loved around all day. Getting coffee was beneath you.

“Don’t.” You assured him. “Do you know how hard it is to find a job in LA? I will be your assistant for the rest of my life if you want.”

“Oh, okay.” Tom nodded, feeling a little disappointed that you were only in it for the job.

“Plus, I get to hang out with my childhood best friend on a million dollar movie set. Trust me, I’m living the dream.” You smiled and poked his arm. At the first contact with you in 14 years, Tom felt his body light up like a live wire. He pulled you into a hug and held you there as if his life depended on it.

“I have missed you.” He said, voice wavering with emotion.

“I guess I missed you too.” You shrugged in his arms.

“Ouch.” Tom laughed at your indifference.

“I’m only teasing.” You laughed back. “My friends from high school and college know everything about you. You were all I talked about.”

“I get it. You wanted some street-cred for knowing a celebrity.” Tom said with a cocky grin.

“I actually never told them you were famous.” You answered, still in his arms.

“Really? You didn’t tell them you and Spider-Man used to finger paint portraits of each other?” Tom looked down at you the best he could.

“I told them about those portraits, but not that it was with Spider-Man.” You replied.

“Why not?“ Tom wondered.

“Because it wasn’t.” You shrugged. “It was with you. I knew you before you were famous and that’s the Tom I remember. I told them about how you were secretly a great carpenter but pretended to be bad so your mom wouldn’t make you go to carpentry school and how you accidentally ran over a butterfly with your bike and cried for a month. Those are the things I remembered and loved about you. You being famous is the least interesting thing about you.”

Tom was speechless with your words. You loved him for him, and clung on to your memories the same way he did. He squeezed you tighter and sniffled a little.

“I really missed you, Y/n.” He repeated. It was all he could say.

“I missed you too.” You smiled softly as you hugged your childhood best friend. You and Tom stood in silence, quietly swaying as he rested his chin on top of your head. No words were spoken, but no words were needed. You let your body language speak the words you didn’t have a chance to all those years you were apart.

“Now go make me a coffee.” Tom said, breaking the silence. You slipped out of his hug and gave him a shocked face.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” Tom pulled your back into his arms with a laugh, placing a gentle “welcome home” kiss on your forehead. “I drink tea.”

You spent the day at Toms beck and call. He was incredibly easy to work with and just as kind as you remembered. He always sent you away with a “please” and greeted you with a “thank you.” You brought him his tea, script, schedule, and anything else he asked for. He was filming all day, but spent every break and lunch with you, just catching up. He learned that you were single and trying to become a playwright. Tom told you you’d be amazing. He was just as you remembered; goofy, annoying, and just about the sweetest guy alive. The day ended before you knew it and soon it was time to leave.

“I’ll see you when I see you.” You said as you gathered your things from Toms trailer, feeling deflated. He was busy at work and your time together was ending.

“Right, I’ll see you.” Tom said before putting his hand over his pocket. “Oh, what’s that? My phone is ringing?”

“I don’t hear a-“ you tried to say.

“-oh, it’s definitely ringing.” Tom cut you off as he took out his phone and held it to his ear. “Hello? Oh Harry! It’s Harry.” Tom whispered to you. “What’s that? You can’t be my assistant tomorrow either? You’re failing another class? Gosh golly darn it. I don’t know where I’ll find an assistant on such short notice.” Tom sighed loudly and you bit back a smile as his ridiculous behavior. “What did you say? You think Y/n should stay for another day? That’s a great idea Harry. Gee, I wish I thought of that idea. I’ll ask her. Okay. Bye now.” Tom pretended to hang up the phone and looked at you.

“Harry’s not coming tomorrow either.” Tom sighed again.

“Really? I had no idea.” You played along.

“I guess you’ll just have to be my assistant again tomorrow.” Tom shrugged as if he didn’t orchestrate the entire plan.

“I guess I will.” You shrugged back. You and Tom shared shy smiles, feeling like kids again.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” You asked as you made your way out.

“Yes. Tomorrow.” Tom nodded and watched you leave.

“Damn it.” The director grumbled as he got off the phone the next day.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you fixed Toms hair before his next scene where Spider-Man had to save a girl from a falling truck.

“The extra broke her leg over the weekend.” He answered. “She’s not coming.”

“Can’t you just use someone else?” Tom asked.

“We’d have to find a girl who can fit into her costume and act in under half an hour to stay on schedule. That’s not happening in such short notice.” The director sighed and checked his clipboard.

“Y/n could do it.” Tom spoke up.

“What?” You asked him.

“It’s perfect.” Tom continued. “You can act and you can fit into her costume. We used to do plays all the time when we were younger.”

“A year 3 play is a lot different from a Marvel film.” You reminded him.

“Not really. Anthony Mackie acts like a third grader anyway.” Tom answered. “You’ll be fine. All you have to do is scream.”

“Tom, I can’t.” You said out of the corner of your mouth.

“Please?” He begged. “If we don’t shoot this scene today the whole movie will be delayed.”

“I’ve never been on camera before. I can’t just jump into a Spider-Man movie.” You protested.

“I did! Actually, I flipped in.” He corrected himself. “That’s besides the point. The point is, you’re amazing, you’re talented, you’re here, and I need you.” Tom listed. “Please?”

You looked at Tom and sighed. “What do I have to do?”

“Yay! Thank you!” Tom kissed your forehead. “All that’s gonna happen is I’m gonna swing down and pick you up to stop you from being crushed by a falling truck. Then we just swing around New York before I set you down all safe and sound. That’s easy enough, right?”

“Swing me around?” You gasped. “How high?”

“40, maybe 50 feet.” Tom shrugged.

“50 feet?!” You shrieked.

“I said maybe!” He shot back.

“I’m not good with heights.” You whined.

“It’s okay. I’ll be holding onto you the entire time. You’ll be safe in my arms.” Tom assured you, and you almost believed him.

“I don’t know.” You bit your lip.

“Come on, Y/n. We were the biggest Spider-Man fans as kids. You always told me it was your dream to swing around in his arms. This is your chance.” Tom pleaded with you as you felt the eyes of the entire cast and crew staring at you.

“My chance to fall 50 feet and die.” You shot back.

“You won’t fall. I won’t let you.” Tom promised as he held his hands under his chin in a pleading position.

“Fine.” You blurted. “What do I have to say?”

“You don’t have any lines. You just need to scream. You don’t even need a script.” Tom smiled as you were rushed off to hair and makeup.

Next thing you knew, you were changed into your costume, harnessed and had wires attached to you, Tom as well.

“Ready?” Tom gave you an excited thumbs up.

“No.” You answered, but couldn’t help the smile that appeared. Tom shot a grin back at you before slipping on his mask. The first story nodded at you, and you nodded back.

“Action!” The director called.

You did as you were told. You started running away as the cameras followed, always looking back and screaming.

You tried to go left and a car exploded in your way.

You tried to go right and a telephone line fell, blocking your path as sparks flew. You had nowhere to go and no one to save you. Then, the truck came flying at you. You screamed and covered your face just before Spider-Man came swinging in and swept you off your feet. You kept your eyes shut as Tom gave your hip a reassuring squeeze. You didn’t watch as you felt the worse pulling you higher and higher. You just held on tightly to Toms neck and prayed for a safe landing.

“Give is a scream!” The director called from below. You did as you were told.

“It’s okay. I got you!” Tom said triumphantly as Peter. He saw the platform he had to land on and squeezed your hip twice to let you know it was ending. He stuck his landing and you felt your feet touching the floor again. You slowly took your face out of the crook of his neck and looked around, timid and afraid, before looking at Tom.

“See? I told you I got you.” Tom laughed sprightly and gave you a squeeze.

It was in the script.

All of it.

The words, the swing, the moment. The extra who didn’t show up knew that. Tom knew that. The cast and crew knew that.

Not you though.

You’d never read the script. Not that scene anyway. So in the rush of the moment with your favorite superhero’s arms around you and your heart beating rapidly from the adrenaline, you lifted Toms mask above his nose and kissed him firmly without a second thought. The kiss softened and he cupped your face before you pulled away and shook your head to wake yourself up.

“Thanks Spider-Man.” You said bashfully and slowly took your arms from around his waist.

“Okay. You have a good day ma’am.” Tom pretended to tip an invisible hat at you and ran out of frame.

“Cut!” The director yelled.

“Sorry, I kinda went off script at the end there.” You quickly commented to both Tom and the director before it could get anymore awkward between you and Tom. He hadn’t removed his mask yet, and you were glad he hadn’t. You didn’t even know why you kissed him. You just did. Everything in you told you you had to.

“No problem. You were feeling the moment. All good actors do. You’ve felt the moment before, right Tom?” The director asked.

“I definitely felt something.” Tom said in a strange way.

“Y/n, Tom, great work. I think we got everything we need. You two can go home for the day. See you tomorrow.” He smiled and patted Tom on the back. Tom removed his mask and was just as red underneath. At first, no one spoke. Then he cleared his throat, then you. Finally, you had to speak.

“Sorry about that.” You offered.

“Don’t be.” Tom smiled tightly.

“It’s just, you know how long I’ve loved Spider-Man and when we were shooting that scene”, your heart started to pound again like it did when you were in the air, “it all felt so real. You in your suit looking like Peter Parker, I mean it was just magical.”

“I’m aware of how magical it was.” Tom smiled genuinely this time.

“No, but you’re used to it. Swinging around with the wind in my hair and your arms around me, I just got so emotional that I kissed you” you explained. “All I could do in that moment was kiss you. Uh, kiss Spider-Man I mean. I just really needed to kiss Spider-Man.”

“Right. Spider-Man.” Tom nodded, suddenly wondering if he wanted to be more than friends with his old friend.

Part two

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl @iamanerdot @averyfosterthoughts @celestial-skylines

#tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spider man: homecoming #spiderman x reader #iron man

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superthiccthighssavelives · 4 years

Text

Angsty Prompts

Alright @primaba11erina, here is part 1/2 of your prompts.

It’s long af, so I had to split it into 2 pieces, it’s really sad honestly, and my heart hurts from writing it, but hopefully this is what you wanted from them. ❤

Please listen to:

*Ocean Eyes - Billie Ellish*

*Everything to Help You Sleep - Julien Baker*

*The Beach - The Neighbourhood*

(and whatever heartwrenching music you have to get into the mood)

The 2 prompts from the angsty list are in bold

48- “You’re hurting me”

49- “Please just let me go”

@alyss--in--wonderland, @linseykalynn, @jolovesfandoms and whoever else wants to read it.

I’m 3 months into my first semester at college, and I’m completely miserable. I missed my family, I missed my friends, and I especially missed my boyfriend. I knew it was going to be hard, without everyone, but not this hard. I walked around with a black cloud over my head, I couldn’t sleep, I lived off black coffee and my best friend was a tube of concealer.

My boyfriend, Taron, and I had been together since middle school, ya know the innocent puppy love, developing into a more serious relationship. We were always together, we never fought, well rarely, it was so easy with him. He was my best friend. We barely talk. Between classes, studying, sleep?, and everything else, it’s usually twice a week. A quick goodnight here and there, and maybe facetime on the weekend. This sucks. I haven’t even seen him since I left.

He stayed back in London, going to a drama school. His talent was too good to pass this opportunity up. We agreed before I left to make sure nothing would change, we both cried like babies, and couldn’t let one another go. After a few hours, I had to tear myself away or I’d end up staying.

Now, 3 months later, I feel like we’re strangers. It may be naive to think that we could keep this relationship from destructing, especially being so young, but, we really do have an amazing thing going. Or did. I tried to concentrate on school, but as time passed, and more time passes, my thoughts get farther and farther away from that, and are planted in worry and ...that uncomfortable, writhing, anxiety ridden feeling in my stomach.

It’s Friday, and I’m about to finish my last class. I wish I could go home for the weekend, maybe take a day or two off after, to see my mom, my sister, and Taron. I don’t even think we’ve talked in a week, the anxiety was building back up again. We basically were playing phone tag, he’d call when he was free, but I was in class, I’d call him but he’d be in rehearsal. I hate this. I hate this so goddamn much.

I drag myself back to the dorms, skipping the coffee, I just want to sleep. I feel like a snail, I’m practically crawling back. Halfway down the hall, I see someone standing by my door. My eyesight is terrible, I can’t see anything more than 6 feet in front of me. I try to focus my gaze, figuring it was another dude my roommate was banging. As I get closer, my heart speeds up, I see him, my boyfriend, and I very nearly knock him over as I plow into him with a hug.

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

He smiled, god, I love his smile, I missed it.

“Surprise!”

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, I couldn’t believe it. He was really here.

All I could do was stare at him, study his face, the color of his eyes, his pink lips, the way the front of his hair has a little curl to it. I barreled myself into him again, squeezing as hard as I could. I don’t care if we just stay like this for however long he’s here, I don’t want to let him go.

He pulled back, placing his hands on either side of my face.

“Are you alright sweetheart?”

I sniffled, realizing I had actual tears dripping down my face.

“I just, I really missed you.” “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I was going crazy not being able to talk to you, I’ve been miserable.” “My mam got sick of me, I was kind of being a dick, so she bought me a bus ticket to come for the weekend.”

I grabbed his hand, pulling him into my room. My legs were starting to get weak, the walk to the dorms is a bit aways from campus, and I hadn’t slept proper in weeks. A yawn slipped out, maybe I should have grabbed that coffee after all.

“Bored of me already?” A cheeky smile spread across his face

“Sorry, I’ve had a rough couple of weeks, I’m just a little tired.”

I moved closer, sitting on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, pressing my forehead to his.

“I’m so so so so so happy you’re here, I can’t even tell you how much.” I could feel my eyes watering again, I really was draining myself so much that I’d become an emotional mess.

He wiped my stray tears away with his thumb, and gave me a gentle kiss. I wanted to stay like this forever. He felt like home, comfort, my heaven. My lips returned to his, just wanting to feel him, his body, his energy, his whole being, just close.

This feeling was so overwhelming, I stopped and just pulled him closer again, my head on his shoulder. His arms were wrapped as tight as they could be around me, rubbing my back.

He soothed me, whispering in my ear, kissing my cheek, my temple.

Eventually I let the craziness pass, and asked what he wanted to do while he was here.

He shrugged “Really, just wanted to see you.”

I couldn’t help but smile. He brought out what I hadn’t felt in months, happiness.

We ordered a pizza and watched movies on my laptop, while I struggled to stay awake. His body was warm, and familiar, and my eyes were drooping, and I ...was...so...tired.

I snuggled up as close as I could get to him, his arm wrapped around me, his hand twirling around in my hair. I felt more and more relaxed as each second passed, I couldn’t fight it any longer.

I jumped up abruptly, not knowing what day or time it was, thinking I was late for class. It took me a second as I looked at the clock that read 11:13, to figure out if it was AM or PM.

My brain started to wake up, glancing beside me to see Taron looking at me concerned. “Are you alright love?”

“Yeah, is it morning or night?”

“Morning, you’ve been out for 12 hours, are you sure you’re alright?”

I plopped back down, pulling him to me for a kiss, even though I’m sure my breath was terrible, I just wanted to make sure he was still there and I wasn’t dreaming.

“Of course, I’ve not been sleeping well, and I think my body just decided to take over. I’m sorry I slept so long, is there anything you wanna see, or do today?”

“Whatever you'd like.”

I thought for a moment, unsure of where to take him. There is that bookstore/cafe I go to a lot when I need to get away from my roommate and her endless stream of men. It was late autumn, so a walk through the park to see all the beautiful colored trees and landscapes would be nice too.

After a shower, and doing the minimum on my hair and makeup, I hurried back to my room. I didn’t want to waste any time doing anything but being with him.

We had an amazing weekend, I took him to all my favorite places, we tried a new restaurant I’d been afraid of eating at, and crashed back at my room. We definitely made up for lost time, I forgot how incredible he felt and what he could do to me and my body. It was almost enough to make me quit school and go back home with him.

Sunday afternoon was upon us, and I dreaded sending him off. I just hope this feeling would linger after he’s left, enough to keep me going for another month until winter break.

He gave me the sweetest kiss and whispered that he loved me, and then he was gone, like he was never there at all.

I had the urge to chase after the bus, and beg him to stay with me, just for a little while, but my brain was too rational and instead, I sat on a nearby bench and text him all the things I couldn’t say before he left. Have a safe trip, text me when you get there, thank your mom for me, I already miss you, I can’t wait until winter break…

The next month plodded along, it felt like a damn eternity. I worked extra hard on my assignments, I needed the distraction. I packed as much as would fit in my suitcase and took a taxi to the bus station. It took a few hours to get home, which of course, felt like days, I just wanted to relax for a few weeks. My stomach was in knots with every mile closer.

The last time I spoke to Taron was 2 weeks ago, I hadn’t gotten a moment to call him, and he must have been on the same schedule, because I’ve heard nothing from him, not even a text.

We had one phone call the week he returned back to London, but he was distracted, at rehearsal, every time I tried to say something, he’d yell back to someone in the background, laugh, apologize, say a few words, and repeat. I’d gotten frustrated and told him to just go back to whatever he was doing, I wanted to hang up on him, but I knew I’d regret it after 5 minutes.

He seemed so distant, and after the weekend we had, I thought that would bring us closer after all that time apart. But...guess not.

I did text him a couple of days ago to remind him I’d be in on Saturday afternoon, and couldn’t wait to see him. But, no reply. I was a little upset, but really, I just wanted to get home and wrap myself around him. I’m sure there was a good explanation.

I finally arrived, running the moment I caught a glimpse of my mom. Again, my emotions were flooding out of me and couldn’t help but cry and squeeze the living daylights out of her.

The house looked different, but the same, that weird being away thing that affects your thinking. I text Taron, telling him I’d made it back, and was looking forward to seeing him, again. Mom made the best meal I’ve eaten in months, I caught up with my sister, going over the latest high school drama.

I kept checking my phone, every other second, waiting, but still nothing. I was starting to worry, and run through a thousand ridiculous scenarios, which caused my awful feeling to build.

I snuck away for a moment, and tried to call him, but it went straight to voicemail. It was becoming too late to go anywhere to see if he was home or ...who knows where.

I felt awful, my stomach wouldn’t stop twisting, making me nauseated. I didn’t know what was happening, or why he hasn’t even contacted me in weeks. As tired as I was, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, emotions, for a lack of a better word, suck.

I threw on a jacket and flittered out to sit on the front porch with a cup of coffee. I tried to pick out the constellations I could spot, text some of my friends to plan a meet up, and tried Taron again. Same straight to voicemail. I was halfway between detrimental anger and wanting to cry my eyes out. It was just about midnight, and I had no idea what to do. Everyone in the house was asleep, I felt completely alone.

I raided the bathroom cabinet to find something to knock me out, I definitely was going to need help falling asleep. I found some allergy meds that were supposed to make you sleepy, I crossed my fingers downing 2 pills. It kinda worked, I passed out for a couple of hours, but woke up with a racing heart around 3am. My phone blinded me, lighting up with a text.

Taron - ‘See you soon xx’

I stared at the screen, waiting for more, something else, an apology, an explanation, that he missed me, anything but some generic ass, nondescript text.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

I threw my phone, thankfully it landed on my area rug and not the wood floor. I was so pissed. After 3 weeks, that’s all he has to say?

My mouth was dry and I had a terrible taste on my tongue, I darted downstairs for a drink, trying my hardest not to grab caffeine. I poured a glass of milk, and grabbed some cookies, I guess I was hungry too.

Halfway up the stairs, I almost dropped my glass when my phone started chirping, loudly. Taron.

I should ignore it, like he’s been ignoring me. I watched it for a moment, and sighed answering.

“Yes?”

“Baaaaaaabyyyyyyyy, where are you?” He was clearly drunk.

“Taron, I’m home, remember?”

“Come see me, I’m…” The sound was muffled and I heard shuffling, then laughter.

“Oops, I dropped you.”

I rolled my eyes, my anger turning red hot. He was out, getting wasted, and hasn’t even attempted to contact me.

“Taron, It’s 3am, I’m going to bed.”

More laughter and voices in the background.

“Taron?” “Hello?’

“Sorry, where are you love?”

His speech was slurred, and quick.

“Home, in bed.”

“Bed, ooh, what are you wearing?”

“Goodnight Taron.”

I waited for him to say something, but I just heard some people in the background laughing more and mumbling things I couldn’t make out.

“Ok, bye then.” I hung up, frustrated and upset.

A minute later, my phone was lit up with another call. I ignored it.

And another.

He left a voicemail, I couldn’t make out half of what he was saying.

He tried to call again. I shut off my phone and took some deep breaths to calm down.

I woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. My nose carried me downstairs, only to find Taron in the kitchen with my mom, shoving a cinnamon roll into his mouth.

“Mornin sunshine!”

I glared at him, pouring myself some orange juice. He came up behind me, crossing his arms around my waist, whispering in my ear, “Missed you.” then kissing my cheek.

Mom excused herself sensing something off.

“What are you doing here?”

His eyes bulged. “What do you mean? I wanted to see you.”

“You wanted to see me so bad that you didn’t text or call me for 3 weeks? And then wouldn’t reply to anything either? Then you call at me fucking 3am drunk?”

He sighed, rubbing his forehead.

“Shit, I’m sorry, we had a good first show, so we celebrated.”

“Oh, good to know, maybe if I knew, I could have been there to see, but, it’s cool.”

He reached for my hand, but I withdrew, pulling my robe tighter.

“I’m sorry, I am, it’s been just really crazy lately, you know?”

“I guess.”

“Babe, come on, don’t be mad at me, please?”

He made an exaggerated sad pout, causing me to yet again roll my eyes.

“Stop, I wanna be mad at you.”

Honestly, looking at him, and those ridiculous puppy dog eyes he was giving me, was breaking me down.

He kissed my cheek “Come on.” *kiss* “Let’s eat.” *kiss* “I’ve missed you.” *kiss* “You look so cute with your hair a mess.” *kiss* “I’m so happy you’re home”

“Alriiiiight, stop.” He was so damn charming, he could get away with murder. I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face.

He kissed my lips, and grabbed my hand to lead me to the table.

We spent the next couple weeks glued to one another, the only time we were apart was a few hours on the weekends when he had a show to do, he slept over almost every night.

I found some time to hang out with some of my girlfriends, do some shopping, catch up on our lives. I still had 3 more weeks at home, and I couldn’t have been happier, and avoiding every thought that entered my mind about going back.

Taron’s break was much shorter than mine, so time with him after that was few and far between. He did invite me to one rehearsal, that was fun. The rest of the time I just lounged as much as I could, read a few books, and mapped out my new classes.

It was my last weekend home, thinking about going back to school was making my stomach turn. I didn’t want to leave.

Taron took me out for a semi-fancy dinner the night before I had to head back. We, of course, again, promised each other things would be ok, and to never let more than a week go by without speaking. We had every good intention to.

We ended up at a pub for a few drinks with all our friends, I wasn’t going to see anyone again for 6 months. I didn’t want to be hungover on the long bus ride back, so I kept it to a minimum. Can’t say the same for Taron though. I had to basically carry him to the taxi and then to his doorstep. I was a little disappointed that this was our last night together, and I couldn’t even talk to him properly. I got him to his bed, covered him up and sat down beside him. His eyes were closed, but not yet passed out. I pushed his hair back from his forehead, running my fingers along his cheekbones, lips, jawline. I wanted to memorize every piece of him.

His eyes sprung open, a silly grin on his face, and pulled me down to him. “I love you.” He gave me a rough kiss on my cheek and was out for the rest of the night. I gave him a gentle kiss on his lips, took one last look and made my way out.

Another sleepless night was ahead of me, I felt different, I didn’t know exactly what ‘it’ was, but I knew it felt like a change.

The drive to the bus station was quiet, save for the dripping rain down the windows. I hugged mom goodbye, and she promised to come visit me soon.

Back at the dorm, it felt empty, and cold. I unpacked, and just laid in my bed staring at the ceiling. I hadn’t even looked at my phone since before I left. Of course, there were messages from him.

Taron - “Are you still here?” 12:42pm

“Please tell me I didn’t miss you leaving?” 12:55pm

“I’m so sorry, I swear, I didn’t mean for the night to go like that.” 1:14pm

“Text me, call me when you get there, please.” 1:47pm

“I miss you, it feels so empty when you’re gone.” 3:02pm

“Are you home yet?” 4:55pm

“Please call me.” 5:33pm

The last text was just my name and a sad emoji. 6:01pm

There were a few missed calls from him, and only one voicemail, no words, just a few seconds of a sigh, and a *click*

I was tired, I still had one more day before school started again, and I was going to use it for sleep. 8:35pm

I woke up too early the next morning, and needed the coffee I had been avoiding at home. I threw on whatever was visible on my floor, threw on a beanie and headed out the door.

My phone was dead, I must have forgotten to charge it. Oh well.

The coffee was so hot, and exactly what I needed. I took the long way back, opting for a few detours through the city. It was lightly raining, and chilly, but somehow it felt like the best thing ever at that moment.

I gazed at the dead, bare trees, the grey, gloomy sky, and the droplets of water gently plopping to the ground, it was beautiful. Even though everything was dead, decaying, it would be reborn, and more glorious than before. No, this wasn’t some metaphor for my life, or maybe it was. I don’t know.

When I returned back to the dorms, my roommate was back, unpacking. We exchanged some light words, and she headed out, leaving me to my own devices again. I binged watched some Netflix shows, and avoided charging my phone. It was still in my handbag, and I didn’t feel like getting up. I passed out early, awaking the next morning right on time to start my new semester.

Eventually, my phone was revived, strangely it took me a few days to even bother. A few messages cascaded in, from mom, my sister, one of my friends, and only one from Taron.

Taron - “I’m sorry.” Monday 1:37am

I called mom, assuring her everything was fine, caught up with my sister, replied to my friend, and left the last message unanswered.

I didn’t know what to say right now, and I needed more time to think before I decided to say anything.

A few weeks passed, surprisingly that black cloud lightened, and the sun came out. I was doing extremely well in all my classes, and I had met a few new people from my dorm hall, and my psychology class. I started to go out more, enjoy life, find myself. I took an art class even though I have no artistic talent, I hoped maybe it was hidden.

I felt a heaviness over me at times, I hadn’t replied to Taron at all. I had to eventually, either resolve it, or just ...no, I didn’t want to think about it. I was in a sort of bubble, and I didn’t want to burst it, not yet.

I dialed his number, listening to the multiple rings before his voicemail hit.

“Hey...we need to talk, umm, yeah, call me when you get this.” I hung up before I changed my mind.

Around 9pm I heard a knock at my door. His hair, and clothes were soaked. His face was covered in worry and somberness.

I stood there, in awe for a moment.

“Get in here.”

I grabbed a towel, handing it to him.

“What are you doing here?” This felt familiar.

He just looked at me, mouth open, taking a moment, while attempting to dry himself off.

“What’s going on?” “What’s happening?” “I’m worried.”

I sighed, I honestly had no idea what to even say.

“Take off your clothes.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking amused.

“They’re soaked, You’re not sitting on my bed all wet.”

I dug through my drawer, finding a t-shirt and oversized pajama pants for him to put on.

“Why haven’t you answered any of my calls, or messages?” “Is everything alright?”

I remained quiet, still not sure of what was going on myself.

“I don’t know.” was all I could come up with.

“You don’t know what?”

“Anything.”

It was quiet for a minute.

“Things aren’t the same, don’t you feel it?”

He stared, searching my eyes, trying to understand.

“I don’t know, maybe a bit.” “But life never stays the same, things always change.”

“Yeah, they do, and …” I pinched my lips, trying to figure out how to put the next sentence together. “And I think we’ve changed, too much.”

It grew quiet again.

“I’m sorry.” was the only thing that slipped from his lips. His head down, arms rested on his knees, and his hands running through his hair.

“Don’t be, I mean, it happens, as much as we don’t want it to, it happens. It’s no one’s fault”

“How can you be so, calm?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think. Until right now, I didn’t know what was happening, it tore me apart, it’s been ripping me to shreds for months, ever since I first came here. I missed you so much, I spent so many nights lying awake, crying, wanting to just say forget it and go back home. I was so incredibly happy when you came to visit that day, I thought if I just waited it out, things could be good again, but things never work out like we plan.”

“I’m sorry, I swear, I didn’t mean for that night to end up like it happened, I promise, I will do anything, let’s just work this out, we can figure out how to make this work.”

I shook my head, I couldn’t. Not anymore. It was killing me, everytime he leaves, or when the phone doesn’t ring for 2 weeks, I let a little piece of him break away.

“Taron, I can’t, I just, can’t.” I was feeling that nauseous feeling creeping back in, and my heart bursting into millions of pieces.

“Please, I know we can.” He grabbed my hands, pulling me towards him. “Look at me, please.”

I was afraid to, I knew I was either going to buckle and give in, or immediately start crying.

He tilted my head up to him, his finger under my chin. He went on and on, trying to convince me we could make it work, that we can schedule times to talk, and we’ll visit every other weekend.

I couldn’t take it anymore, my eyes betrayed me, spilling salty tears down my cheeks.

“Taron, stop, you’re hurting me, please just let me go.”

I could barely get the words out, I was out of breath, I felt ill, I couldn’t stop bawling.

I turned away, trying to calm myself. He came around to face me, placing his hands on my face, gazing deep into my eyes. “I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you, I’m sorry.” Tears were forming in his eyes, making them glisten. He gave me one last lingering kiss on my forehead, grabbed his things and walked out the door.

#angsty prompt #writing #fiction #fanfiction #taron egerton fic #taron egerton imagine #taron egerton #taron egerton x reader #taron x you #creative writing #part 1 #primaba11erina #prompts

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womenstan · 3 years

Text

Just Wait Another Day

Happy Birthday @chibisfatou!! Sorry for the delay ily <3

Ao3

Summary :

In which Isa is away for an internship in the States and Liv celebrates her birthday alone, at work... or, does she?

Day in day out, it was always the same time, same place, same people and she was used to this implicitly agreed upon order of things.

Today, though, there was something wrong. Or, not quite wrong, but… Different. She couldn’t tell what it was yet, but she could feel it in the air as she dropped her satchel on her desk.

The receptionists had been particularly invested in their gossiping, sitting a little closer and talking a little faster than usual. Her colleagues had been rushing from room to room, buzzing like bees at work which, while not being exactly out of the ordinary, usually didn’t happen before at least ten or eleven. Even her boss, who usually didn’t even bother to come into work before noon, was standing in front of his office at 7am sharp.

So, Liv knew something was going on.

She shrugged her coat off, hanging it around the back of her chair. Taking her phone out of her pockets, she clicked a few buttons and opened her SMS: Nothing.

She sighed, trying not to let the disappointment she felt overcome her, as she still needed to make it through the day. It’s not like she was expecting Isa to text her this early, I mean, it was barely one am where she was. Still, it was her birthday today and Isa had promised she wouldn’t forget…

Liv shook her head, trying to push the thoughts and the worries away. She forgot you, so what? Get over yourself Liv!

She grabbed one of her empty mugs at random, but felt her body still when she saw which one she’d picked. It was the ‘I Heart NYC’ mug that Isa had brought back from New-York at the end of the last semester. They’d barely had a week together before Isa had been called back to her internship in the States, carrying half of Liv’s heart along with her.

They’d promised each other they would try to make it work. After all, neither were afraid of distance and they were sure that their love could triumph against anything.

Now, though, Liv wasn’t so sure anymore. In the past few weeks, Isa had become more and more distant, cancelling their weekly facetimes on more than one occasion and taking hours and hours to answer Liv’s texts.

It pained Liv and most of the time, she tried not to think about it. She didn’t want to think about the ifs and the whys, because if she started questioning everything, then she knew her self-doubt would get the best of her and they’d fall apart.

So, yeah, she tried not to think about it, but that doesn’t mean she succeeded. She was all alone in their or, well, her vast apartment, all evenings and weekends long, just her and her thoughts, swirling around in her head and poisoning her mind. So, she’d started working more.

She was constantly exhausted now, but that meant she didn’t have the energy to overthink everything. She got to work at 7am and she was never back home before 9pm. On weekends, she worked at a small café next to where she lived. She didn’t need the money per se, but it was what it took to keep her occupied.

With all her friends in relationships or busy working and with her other half enjoying her life halfway across the world… Liv had needed an escape. She’d found it in work. She was also hoping that with all those extra hours she’d saved up, she could take a few days of vacation when Isa would come back from her internship in a month and a half.

Or, well, 46 days, 6 hours and 10 minutes (according to the internship contract), but really, who’s counting (Liv, Liv’s definitely counting).

What hurt the most was scrolling through Isa’s instagram. What used to be a page filled to the brim with pictures of the two of them was now overtaken by shots of Isa’s cool american colleagues. And Liv wasn’t exactly jealous, she was glad that Isa had found friends to hang out with and that she wasn’t lonely. So, no, she wasn’t jealous, but she was definitely worried. Worried that Isa would figure out that her american friends were a lot more fun than Liv and decide to stay in the States for longer, or worse: that she’d find someone that made her heart beat just a little faster than Liv ever could.

Obviously, she never brought her worries up to Isa. Liv knew Isa would feel bad and would try to make more time for her, which would overjoy Liv, but really wouldn’t be fair to Isa. Besides, Liv knew most of her insecurities were most likely unfounded and while part of her brain really wanted to know who that ‘Kelly’ girl Isa kept tagging in posts was, the more logical side of her mind knew that Isa loved her just as much as she loved Isa. It was just hard.

Liv made her way to the coffee maker, silently thanking every God that someone had freshly brewed coffee right before she’d arrived. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to make coffee, obviously, but the machine seemed to harbour some kind of vendetta against her and Liv was just not in the mood to get splashed by hot water today.

Liv leaned back on the counter as she sipped her coffee, sighing peacefully as she felt the warmth travel through her body. Maybe today wouldn’t be quite as bad as she’d imagined.

She felt someone slide up next to her and turned her head to face her boss, looking at her expectantly.

“Yes?” She asked, raising her eyebrows in question.

Her boss smiled slightly, nudging Liv’s shoulder with her own. “I heard it’s someone’s birthday today…”

Liv couldn’t help her reaction, jumping slightly at her boss’ words. Eyes wide, she opened her mouth to answer, but no words would come out. Her boss’ smile only widened, as she turned to face Liv properly.

“How… How did you…?” Liv started, trying to make sense of her confused thoughts.

“How did I figure out it was your birthday?” Her boss asked, straightening back up and brushing some lint off of her skirt as she did so. She shrugged noncommittally, starting to walk past Liv.

As she reached her level, she added, “Let’s just say that a little bird told me”. With that, she winked, quickly patting Liv’s shoulder and walking away.

Liv could feel the wheel turning in her mind, her eyes narrowed in confusion. She turned towards the direction her boss had gone, but she was nowhere to be seen. Still feeling perplexed, Liv made her way back to her desk and got to work.

As it was nearing lunch time, Liv leaned away from her computer monitor, stretching her arms and her neck. She let out a satisfied noise as her arm cracked slightly. Checking the time on her phone, she noticed it was a little past noon, so she finished what she was writing on her computer and shut the monitor off.

As she rolled her chair back and grabbed her bag, she heard a knock on her office door. She shouted a ‘come in!’, getting up at the same time.

Mila, one of her coworkers, popped her head into the office, smiling at Liv.

“Hey! We’re all grabbing lunch in the cafeteria, and we’d love it if you joined us!” She asked, cheerfully.

Liv narrowed her eyes slightly, surprised by the proposition. Barely anyone ever ate in the cafeteria, unless the weather was too bad to step outside. Mila seemed to really want her to come along though, so Liv nodded, quickly grabbing her things and following her coworker out of the room.

As they walked down the stairs that led to the cafeteria, Liv was stunned by the lack of noise coming from the room. Usually, you could hear employees’ chatters all the way up the staircase, but today, it was so silent that Liv could hear her heels resonate on the floors.

Mila was the first one to reach the cafeteria’s door, but instead of opening it, she stepped to the side and gestured for Liv to step in first.

“Thanks?” Liv said, growing more and more suspicious by the second.

She grabbed the doorknob and pulled. As soon as the door was creaked open, Liv was assaulted by yells of ‘Happy birthday!’. She could barely register the confettis thrown her way or the way off-key singing of her coworkers, because in the middle of the room, standing right in front of her was the last person she’d expected to see.

Isa.

Liv felt her bag drop from her hands and hit the floor, but she didn’t care. She ran towards Isa who waited there, a bright smile plastered on her face and her arms thrown wide open. They collided not-so-softly, sending Isa stumbling a little on her feet.

Liv held her tightly, burrowing her face in Isa’s neck. Isa laughed, hugging her just as hard. Leaning back, Liv took Isa’s face between her hands, still in disbelief that her love was really there, physically, with her.

“What? How? When?” Liv stuttered the series of questions, closing her eyes hard and reopening them to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.

Isa smiled softly, bringing one of her hands to Liv’s face and caressing her skin softly.

“I wasn’t going to miss your birthday, now, was I?”

All Liv could do was laugh, still too stunned to form a proper coherent thought. She brought Isa back in her arms, holding her close to her chest.

“I hope you realize that now that you’re here, I’m never letting go of you again.” Liv said, feeling tears of happiness and relief well up in her eyes.

Isa moved her head back to face Liv’s, a serious expression overtaking her features.

“Good, because I have no intention of leaving again.” She said, looking directly into Liv’s eyes, sincerity and emotions whirling around.

Liv gave her a small, sad smile, as she remembered Isa’s internship. “What about the States? Don’t you have to go back?”

Isa smiled fondly, bringing both of her hands to cradle Liv’s face lovingly. “I cut it short. I missed you too much and I managed to find something else right here, in the Netherlands. With the one I love the most.”

Liv couldn’t help herself, feeling her heart swell up with love to the point where she felt like she would explode. She practically threw herself onto Isa, crashing their lips together in a kiss that said ‘I missed you so much’, ‘please don’t ever leave me again’, ‘I love you’ and so much more all at once.

Liv’s colleagues’ cheers and applause brought Liv out of the little bubble of happiness where only Isa and her existed. She broke the kiss regrettingly, smiling shyly at her coworkers.

Isa leaned her forehead against her, kissing her nose lightly. “Happy birthday. I love you”

Liv smiled, probably brighter than she ever had, and whispered back ‘I love you, so much”.

#skam nl #isa keijser #liv reijners #happy birthday #ilyyyy sas

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marrymeleoxxiu · 4 years

Text

YSL Valentine’s Day

BamBam x Noona Reader

Fluff / Slow Burn / Angst

Everyone can read.

I started stressing about Valentine’s Day on perhaps February 5th, the Friday after my newborn nephew was born. I was getting notifications about gifts for him on every email, pin-terest, places I visit online and I was thinking to myself, “Why not try to get him something.” I started window shopping around online that very day and during the weekend that followed. I spent some time on my couch in the living room around my parents, doing just this. I feel like I should spoil him with something extra special, like a YSL Men’s perfume because I won’t be with him on this day.

I decided on a whim to look up his favorite brand of YSL on an easily accessible store to me. I brought it up with my mom that week, that I wanted to get my brother and father something too. After pestering her about it for a full day, she said in a week we will go get them their gifts; Never happened due to other things happening and daily life getting in the way.

----Time Skip---- (Messaging him)

But now that it's Valentine’s day In South Korea, on February 13th, I decided to send him a direct message just letting him know he’s on my mind today and that I wish him a Happy Valentine’s day. I kind of also share my thoughts to him on other topics involving him sharing more so I feel more involved in the relationship; not expecting a reply back. But he responds with a “Happy Valentine’s Day.” It makes me sincerely smile and my heart gently does a backflip. His girlfriend, me, confesses to him in a private message, “That you are all I need on this day and that I wish we could actually go on a date. That would be great.” But I understand how busy he is. Again, not expecting anything back. He or a friend posts an image of him and Jae-Beom. I respond to it and then carry about my day, with my man and one and only on my mind. Once again, not expecting anything. I message a friend or two, feeling an extra dose of pining for him on this day.

----Time Skip----

I open canva after a while of internet activities with friends and decide during a lull of communication from everyone; to make something. The idea was graphics for BamBam and my tumblr blog; they are soon queued and or sent directly to his direct messages in the moment after it’s been saved. I don’t hear from him for very many, many hours later. I’m sitting in my room looking at our chat, hoping to hear from him soon. Nothing comes in. I feel guilty and sad that I couldn’t get him the YSL perfume that I wanted to get him. I know it’s because he’s busy as an Idol for GOT7, and going through a process of change in his business life. Which I wholeheartedly support. But it still bothers me and makes me even more sad that he has not appreciated my gift. But then surprisingly enough a message comes in from BamBam saying “Yeah, I’m outside your house~! Happy Valentine’s Day~!”

My eyes go wide at the message, but I push myself quickly off my bed, barefooted and rush outside to greet him. Once outside, I try to get to him as quickly as I can, but he’s standing right outside my door. Our bodies full on collide into each other. I wrap my arms tightly around him. I am shocked and have no words whatsoever. My heart is beating a million miles an hour. He separates our bodies from the deep hug for a moment to bend down and kiss me right then and there, gently. I respond back with my own kiss. But I make my lips linger on his for a good minute. He then breaks the kiss and looks at me.

“Wow, so cute and yet you really weren’t expecting me.”

I blush and stutter my response. “Bammie, It is late. Y-you really shouldn’t have, but I’m so damn happy you’re finally here~! I-I love you s-so much~!” I feel so nervous and yet excited.

He looks at me from head to toe. I’m wearing a blueish grey and pink leopard oversized sleep shirt and red and pink heart leggings. He pulls me towards him for another hug and I really don’t want to let go of him.

“Are you going to let me in?” He asks.

“Of course hunny~” I mutter gently against his chest. “I need to get you settled in, on the couch or my bed.” I wink at him, flirting.

“Whichever one you’re parents will allow. I’m sure your mom is still awake. It’s going to be fun to meet her,”

“Maybe we can get you in without a fuss. My dad wakes early also just like me.”

At that, I grab his hand and bring him inside and close and lock the door.

To Be Continued?

@kpopandvarieties Special thanks to Miss. Jenna for helping me for several hours on this. Fangirling along side me on google docs, totally acting a fool together. <3 I am so happy to have a friend like you.

@galacticbammie Just tagging you so you see this. <3

@key201303 Tagging you too for same reason to view it. <3

#BAMBAM #GOT7 #self-insert #fantruth #me in fantasy land #hope it really does happen giggles #so much love #i don't trust tumblr any more. this should have been posted 3 hours later.#SHOOK BY TUMBLR #got7 fluff #got7 angst #bambam fluff #bambam slow burn #bambam angst

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soundofseventeen · 5 years

Text

Can I Have This Dance? Pt. 3 (Kwon Soonyoung)

Hello! I now have a million requests to work on! Enjoy part 3! 💛

Masterlist

You clapped your hands together, smiling at Soonyoung. You had finally gotten through an entire dance without messing up! You were making progress! You were actually learning this! You weren’t going to make a total fool of yourself!

“I did it!” You laughed, Soonyoung grinning back at you. “I actually got through a dance without stepping on you or kicking you or tripping or anything!”

“You did, congratulations.” Soonyoung chuckled, shaking his head. He couldn’t help but smile at your excitement over something like learning a simple dance.

“I think a few more practices and I should be ready for this party!” You said, looking around the room. Soonyoung nodded, realizing what that meant. He had gotten so used to seeing you every other day, he now realized that he wouldn’t be seeing you as much.

“Yeah, I think you’re almost there.” Soonyoung commented. “We could run it again now if you want?” You glanced at the clock, eyes widening a bit.

“Oh my god, I’m late!” You said, running to grab your bag and pull out your phone.

“For what?” Soonyoung asked, a little confused. You had already worked today?

“Oh, I just have to run by the hospital.” You said, sending a reply to Jiwoo. You looked up and saw the alarmed look on Soonyoung’s face, quickly waving a hand. “Not for me! I uh… There’s this couple who comes into the shop a lot and one of them is currently really sick. Her kids and grandkids don’t really live near here, so I said I would go visit her and I don’t really have another chance this week, you know?”

“Oh.” Soonyoung said, nodding his head. “Wait, you’re going now? It’s kind of late for you to go by yourself...”

“Yeah, I don’t have much other time.” Soonyoung nodded, putting something in his bag. You raised an eyebrow at him, tilting your head. “Do... Do you want to come?”

“What?” Soonyoung looked at you, a little taken back.

“Do you want to come with me? The extra company would probably make Mrs. Lee very happy! She’s a very social lady.” You went up to Soonyoung, jumping a little bit, looking at him with a brightness in your eyes. “Please?”

Soonyoung couldn’t explain why his breath caught in his throat, but all he could do was nod as you cheered a bit, taking his hand and pulling him from the studio.

And that’s how he ended up walking through the hospital doors with you, carrying some little daisies you just had to stop to get on the way. He just followed you as you walked the halls, asking nurses for Mrs. Lee’s room. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was walking into, but he just knew that he had to follow you. Truthfully, hospitals kind of spooked him sometimes, so he really wanted this to go quickly.

Finally you stopped outside of a room, lightly knocking and opening the door, a smile coming to your face.

“Y/N!” Soonyoung heard as he followed you into the room. His eyes fell on the frail little old lady, sitting up in the hospital bed and setting her book to the side. “What are you doing here, young lady! It’s so late!”

“Your husband told me you could use some company.” You smiled, going over and taking her hand.

“Oh that man.” She said, patting your hand. “Always so concerned.”

“I think he has a point this time.” You grinned, giving her a look. She just patted your hand again, smiling at you.

“I do miss the flowers. Mr. Lee brings them every couple days, but it’s not the same.”

“Oh, we brought some too!” You said, looking at Soonyoung, who just held up the plants.

“Oh Y/N!” Mrs. Lee looked from Soonyoung to you. “Is this the boyfriend?” You and Soonyoung looked at each other, both wide eyed.

“Oh, no-” You both started, Mrs. Lee just shaking your hand a bit.

“He’s very handsome. Looks like you picked well.” You looked at her, and then back at Soonyoung, giving him an apologetic look.

“I’m uh… I’m going to ask a nurse about a vase for these.” You said, going to take the flowers from Soonyoung. “Be right back.” You smiled, exiting the room. Soonyoung swayed on his feet a bit, very aware that Mrs. Lee was watching him.

“So… Y/N, uh, has said some really nice things about you.” Soonyoung said, looking at her.

“Same about you.” She said, looking at him. “Can I give you some advice?” She asked, Soonyoung blinking but nodding. “Don’t you hurt that girl.”

“Oh, I-” Soonyoung started, but immediately stopped when she pointed a finger at him.

“That girl has a good heart. A soft heart. The type to break easily.” She looked around the room. “Y/N has talked about you a lot, so I’ve heard the good and the bad.” Soonyoung furrowed his eyebrows, nodding his head. “You better take care of her.” She gave Soonyoung a stern look. He swallowed a bit, opening his mouth as the door opened again, you walking back in.

“The nurse said she knew where to find one, so voila!” You held up the vase with the new flowers in it, then went to set it on her table. You glanced around, sensing the awkwardness around Soonyoung. “What did you two talk about?”

“You, dear. And how sweet you are!” Mrs. Lee said, smiling at you. Soonyoung nodded, causing you to feel your face burn up and wave a hand.

“Oh stop it you guys.” You laughed, going to sit by Mrs. Lee again.

“Y/N, dear, I’m very grateful that you thought to come, but I am so tired. How about this weekend you visit and we can have some tea?” She asked, you nodding your head.

“I would love that. We should be heading out anyway, it’s been a long day.” You said, standing up again. Soonyoung couldn’t help the smile on his face watching you interact with this old woman. Your face just lit up with you talked with her, it was almost like she was your actual grandmother. You smiled at him, walking over to him.

“It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Lee.” Soonyoung said, Mrs. Lee nodding in response.

“You as well. I hope you remember our little chat.” She winked, you looking at Soonyoung with an amused look on your face.

“I will.” Soonyoung said, looking at you and then back at Mrs. Lee. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good. Y/N, I will see you this weekend. Tell my husband to stop spending money on flowers, he might listen to you.” She said, starting to lay back down.

“I doubt he will, but I’ll give it a shot.” You laughed, waving and leading Soonyoung out of the room.

“I am so sorry about that…” You looked at Soonyoung as you walked down the hall, heading towards the exit. “She’s never actually met Daeho before and she must have just assumed that-”

“Y/N, it’s fine.” Soonyoung said, letting out a laugh. He looked around, noting how dark it had gotten. “Do you want to get something to eat? It’s kind of late now, but I’m sure we could find something somewhere.”

“Sure! There’s a convenience store down the street? We could just get some ramen or something.” You said, pointing down the street.

“Uh, sure. If you want.” Soonyoung said, following you as you nodded and turned to walk away.

“So, what did Mrs. Lee tell you?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“She said for you to remember what she told you. What did she tell you?” Soonyoung’s cheeks started to turn pink, which caused you to gasp. “Oh my god, what did she tell you?”

“Nothing, just that I had to be careful with you.” He said, you feeling a bit offended.

“Oh really?” You said, Soonyoung quickly looking at you.

“She warned me not to hurt you.” You felt your own face burn up, looking back down the street.

“Oh.” You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “Well, she is like my grandmother, so I guess that’s fair if she thought you were my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, she really looks out for you.” Soonyoung grinned, opening the door to the convenience store. You walked in, immediately going for the ramen. You had been here several times, so you knew exactly where you were going. Soonyoung just continued to follow you, looking over his options. You both eventually picked flavors, going to the counter to pay for them. Soonyoung started to pull out his wallet, but you put a hand out, causing him to stop.

“I got this.” You grinned, pulling out some cash and handing it to the cashier.

“Y/N, I can-”

“Nope, you’ve been helping me. The least I can do is buy you some cheap ramen.”

“It’s a favor for Jiwoo.” Soonyoung said, taking his ramen and walking towards the microwave.

“Yes, but I still need to pay you somehow. Therefore, cheap ramen.” You said, holding up your own container.

“Well, thank you.” You smiled, waiting for his to stop heating up. “So… How uh, how are things going between you and your actual boyfriend?” Soonyoung asked, glancing at you.

“Oh they’re good. It was totally crazy seeing you at the restaurant last night, by the way!” You looked at him, still smiling. Soonyoung couldn’t believe that you just smiled this much.

“Yeah, it was crazy.” He commented, nodding his head. “I assume he was the guy next to you?” You nodded your head, opening the microwave, handing Soonyoung his container and putting yours inside and turning it on. “You seemed to have a good time.”

“Yeah, I guess.” You said, looking at the microwave. Soonyoung raised an eyebrow at you. “I mean, it was fun and the food was amazing but just… Sometimes I don’t think I fit in with them really well? Like, I listen to their conversations and I can’t even begin to think how to contribute. I love Daeho and I know he loves me but I… I don’t know, I feel like he’s on a whole different level than I am, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that.” Soonyoung said, watching you. You slightly lit up again when the microwave beeped, taking your container out of the microwave and starting to head outside, but Soonyoung couldn’t help but notice that you deflated a little bit. He followed you, sitting across from you at the table. “Well, on the bright side, soon you’ll be able to show them all how cool you are with your amazing dance skills.” You grinned again, looking at him.

“I don’t know about that. I’ll just be grateful if I don’t make a fool of myself.” You sighed, Soonyoung reached over and put his hand on yours, shaking it a little bit.

“You’re doing great. You’re going to be a pro by next weekend.” He said, causing you to give him a soft look.

“Thanks Soonyoung.” You smiled, a slight twinkle in your eye. Soonyoung cleared his throat, removing his hand from yours and turning to his ramen, silently hoping his heart rate increasing was just because he was really hungry.

Maybe doing this favor for Jiwoo was a bad idea.

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