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beesincognito · 2 years

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Perfect Strangers- part two: The Classmate

Viktor x Fem!reader (SFW)

part one part three

Takes place before Arcane and works its way there, did my best to combine the different versions of lore. (nsfw in later parts)

(you and Viktor meet on your first day at the academy and bond over being habitual, awkward loners. The story revolves around class issues and a sense of belonging mixed with lore and Arcane plot. The story will split at some point and you choose which ending you want to read. Kind of self-indulgent... Based on interactions in platonic and romantic relationships with the men in my life.)

*no warnings for this part*

Word count: 3,203

******

You hadn’t even considered what you were going to do with yourself once classes had begun and independent research projects started in a few years. It seemed so far ahead, but you were surrounded by classmates excitedly discussing their ideas. For now you could only focus on whatever Viktor was sharing with you everyday. You didn’t even think you’d see him everyday before school began, but there he was at your hotel door the next morning with tea for you and a few books from the library in a bag hanging from his arm.

“You’re late moving in,” he lowered himself into the chair at the dining table with a sigh.

“I only have a couple bags, they’re small anyways. I didn’t bring much,” you assessed your tiny travel bags on the hotel floor while gratefully sipping the tea, not counting your bag you brought everywhere for school and art, “maybe I didn’t bring enough.” You thought about how long you were actually going to be there and your closet full of clothes you’d left at home plus stationery supplies. It wasn’t like you were unable to ask your parents to send them from the other end of the city. It would only take a day for your stuff to get to you if you really cared.

“Then let's go over so you’re settled. Classes start in a couple days,” he stood and lifted the closest bag which was no more than a large purse, hardly a travel case.

You checked out of the hotel early, refusing the refund for the spare nights. Viktor heard from a few feet behind as you chatted with the attendant; when you only referred to the possible refund as a “tip” he cleared his throat in surprise. He watched you sign off on the receipt without a second thought. Nothing caught your attention from his rigid body language when you turned to leave, letting him know everything was ready to go.

The walk to campus was quiet for a bit as you checked the dorm number over and over making sure you got it right. Viktor thought about how comfortable you were surrounded by the expensive hotel lobby while he had been shuffling his feet behind you.

“How many days did you have left at the hotel?”

“Um, maybe three or four? I wasn’t paying attention when I signed the receipt,” casually waving your hand in a nonchalant manner. It had made you feel nice leaving the rest as a tip as you always did with spare change.

Viktor’s look of surprise went unnoticed by you as you went back to reading the letter detailing where your dorm was. Inside the elevator he cranked the lever to your floor number and you both listened to the rattling of the gears and cables lifting you up to your floor.

Decorative paper was plastered to the walls and copper trimmings instead of gold or brass like the majority of the campus. The doors were spaced close to each other, closer than you would have thought for such an expensive campus. You both slowly walked, checking the numbers on each door before finally finding yours. The keys jingled as you turned it with a jerk and the door creaked open with a moaning sound.

Light poured in through the window from lamps outside, not bright enough to illuminate the whole room so you clicked on the light that was just a lamp on the desk.

The dorm was small, tiny, more like a broom closet with a bed stuffed in it than a real room to live in. Viktor was unable to hide his surprise when you invited him to step in with you for the first time. His face scrunched as he assessed the space you had to work with. You didn’t think it was so bad, different from what you were used to by a long shot, but it had not phased you yet. Something about it was freeing.

“Aren’t you going to unpack?” he gave you a confused look when you took your bag from his hand and tossed it under the bed, covering the bags with the long duvet.

“I’ll just get stuff as I need it,” you jumped up onto the bed which was twice the height of your regular bed but was a small twin sized mattress in width.

“Is this room alright for you?” Viktor was seated on the hard wooden chair at the small desk. He couldn’t help but think about how your hotel room had been so grand compared to this and the way you acted towards money earlier that day.

“I don’t see why not, homework, lying awake at night unable to sleep, maybe eating. I don’t need a lot of space for that. Honestly this is amazing.” Stretching out on your bed covered in the academy provided bedding was exciting. You assumed with the tuition you were forking out they would have included better accommodations, but you were not one to complain out loud.

“Compared to other dorms it is very small, it must be from when the academy was first founded,” he rested his back against the chair, listening to it creek with age.

You just loved listening to him talk about mundane things, his accent made everything sound sophisticated. You almost didn’t register the comment he made.

“Wait what d’you mean?”

“I’ll show you,” he pushed himself up gracefully with his cane and waved for you to join him.

Following him down the hall, you left your floor, descending a couple of levels before Viktor stepped off of the elevator and onto his floor. The doors were spaced further apart in this hallway, making it obvious that the rooms were already twice the size, or more, compared to your room. You continued to follow him down the hall. Distracted by the gold molding you were not paying attention to when he stopped to unlock his door. Catching yourself before bumping into him only brushing against his arm instead.

He pushed his door open, allowing you to enter first before following. Closing the door behind him he stood by his desk which was larger than yours and already stacked with books.

You started to feel shy looking around and noticing the little signs of life around the room. Imagining how he had been living in the space since last week since arriving from Zaun made you curious about all of the objects in the room. You wondered what that meant to him, being from the undercity, now that he had a place in Piltover at the academy.

Pants were neatly folded and hung off of the edge of the bed frame where his feet would go, there was a book on the nightstand and his drawer was slightly opened. You avoided peeking, especially since he was right there.

Viktor noticed the double take you had with the night stand.

“You can sit on the bed if you’d like,” politely offering and gesturing towards it.

Thanking him, before you could sit you noticed there were two other doors in the room; one was next to the bed behind you and the other was next to the desk. The one behind his bed was slightly ajar which peaked your interest, noticing it was a bathroom.

“You have your own bathroom?!” You gasped like a child as you straightened before sitting on his bed and looked in. “And a shower?!”

“Your room should have had those as well, perhaps they mean to remodel your floor eventually. Though a hundred years give or take should have been enough time,” he laughed more at your excitement than at his own joke and you joined in.

“Where does the other door lead?” you didn’t pry physically this time as you turned back into the main room.

“A small kitchen I share with the room next door. Whoever was supposed to move in never showed.”

“Oh my gods, and it’s too late to switch rooms. Damn.”

“You could probably talk to someone about it,” Viktor’s tone almost sounded hopeful.

“Nah I’ll stick it out.”

Continuing to chat and for a few hours about his books and your future classes, which had been anxiety inducing, put you at ease. It felt good to make him laugh as you talked since he usually seemed so serious when discussing academics.

******

You spent the following school days together sharing ideas and listening to him talk so excitedly about his plans. The persistent longing for connection that was finally his, something you knew nothing about yet, and you were just glad he felt this comfortable with you.

As classes started you were pleased to find out you had a couple lectures and an elective together. The lectures were bearable with him there to explain things you failed to understand or when you had trouble paying attention. The elective was a robotics class focusing on streamline machinery for factory assembly lines. Which would make sense in the city of progress. Viktor had already been improving machines like those back in Zaun less than a year prior so it was calming to know you would have someone to get advice from.

Routine was forming between you two. From meeting downstairs at the entrance to the dorms to walking together to grab tea or coffee on your way to classes. When you weren’t together in classes you already knew you would see each other anyways on the way back to the dorms every now and then.

Enjoying the company of someone else was foreign to you, especially when that someone was so new. It was surprising enough to you that it had not fizzled out after a couple weeks. His calm demeanor did wonders for your anxiety, especially when you were stressed or faced what seemed to be unsolvable problems in classes and unwarranted social settings. It took no time at all for him to gently talk you down from whatever was stressing you out or he would at least listen to your concerns. Solutions were only offered when you asked, making sure to not overstep a boundary by trying to give you unsolicited advice.

During one long lecture about the properties and definition of matter you felt particularly intrigued by the topic. You furiously scrawled notes into your pad, memorization was difficult for you without something to read. Compared to Viktor who only took a note here and there, you seemed like a madman. This had been the running theme so far over the last month, and some change, you would write a stack of notes and in the margins of your textbooks while Viktor understood the material with ease.

Not that he didn’t work hard, he definitely did in his own ways. Studying outside the material and topics of his courses, as he loved learning, was the norm for him.

Sometimes it made you feel inadequate having to work harder than a majority of your classmates, but the results were worth it when you always got excellent scores. Earning praise for your academics from someone other than your parents was fun; Viktor always wanted to see your assignments and tests when you received them from the professor. He was fascinated with how much work went into some of your answers.

Your train of thought was completely visible to him as he read through your work in all of its chaotic steps. Those chaotic steps would sometimes get you scolded by the professor, but you could never work through some of the assignments without them. You weren’t sure if your work made Viktor think less of you as a scholar in the making, you decided it was better to not ask and just let him enjoy analyzing your work.

Well into the school term, you were improving with Viktor’s help in academics. It was like having your own personal tutor who had endless patience with you. You would spent late nights in the library study rooms in the beginning, keeping academics out of your leisure time in the dorms when you worked together in silence. For you it was art while he read. Something about staying in his dorm all night seemed like overstepping a boundary when you were huddled together over paperwork, instead of sitting across the room from each other relaxing and reading.

You had gotten to the point where rationalizing and reasoning never crossed your mind in relation to your friendship, it existed as it was, comfortably.

******

During your robotics elective with Viktor, feeling your hands clam up, you waited your turn to present your project. The class was moved to a large lecture hall for presentations for a better view of the gadgetry. Something about the wall of students made your stomach drop.

Viktor was nervous as well as he presented, but was calm enough on the outside to make it through with no mistakes before rejoining you in the audience.

All you could do was wipe your hands on your pleated uniform skirt. Whatever bewitched you to wear a shorter skirt that day of all days escaped you, maybe you thought it would grant some false confidence. Hearing your name being called made your heart hammer against your ribs. You squeezed past the classmate next to you, legs awkwardly brushing against his knees as you stepped out into the aisle and down the stairs after apologizing to him.

Viktor didn’t appreciate the smirk the guy had on his face as you passed. Viktor’s eyes traced the guy’s gaze which led to your skirt bouncing slightly with each step you took to the presentation stage.

It was far from the first time another guy had noticed you beyond just another classmate they passed by occasionally. Viktor would be lying if he didn’t at least admit you were cute on the daily, the way your eyes lit up over the smallest aspects of the day was the sweetest thing to him.

The guy had noticed Viktor and you were making eye contact as you finished setting up your machine.

When you stopped to take a deep breath, composing yourself, you looked to him for reassurance. In response, Viktor gave you a soft wave and a thumbs up which prompted you to start speaking.

“Hey, eh Viktor right?” The whisper came from Viktor’s side and he turned to look at the guy. He was large, muscular, like he trained often.

“Yes, and you?” he accepted his outstretched hand and politely shook it.

“Caston,” his sly grin made Viktor internally cringe. “Hey I was wondering about your friend, how long have you known her?”

“A while,” Viktor’s answer was brisk as he didn’t like where the conversation was heading.

“Are you seeing each other?” Caston chewed his bottom lip as he watched you present, noticing how you were basically presenting to just Viktor and the professor.

“Why do you ask?” Viktor avoided the real answer instead of answering sarcastically by telling him you saw each other everyday.

“Just wondering since you always arrive and leave class together. I’ve seen you guys around campus sometimes, seemed cozy to me.” He leaned towards Viktor, “if not I was thinking about asking her out. I’ve had my eye on her for a while, she’s nice.”

“I see,” he turned his full attention back to you. You looked so sweet, passionately explaining your project as you summarized your findings and began to wrap things up. He didn’t want to lie, preventing you from experiencing life by telling every interested person that he was yours.

Resting his chin on his hand as he thought about you dating someone else cut him off from Caston going psst repeatedly next to him until he felt his shoulder being tapped.

“Well are you or not?” he asked quietly as you started putting your project away, making the stage ready for the next student.

“Oh… eh, no, just friends.” Viktor admitted as you waved at him, he grinned and gave you a small wave back. The apathy in his eyes did not go unnoticed by you as you sat back down next to him.

“How did I do?” you buzzed next to his ear, still nervous from the presentation.

“You were perfect,” Viktor assured you with his usual smile, shaking his head when your eyes gave away your worry, he tried to wipe the sour mood from his face.

During the rest of the presentations you spent your time drawing in your sketchbook, leaning your head against Viktor’s shoulder. He watched you draw in-between paying attention to the other presentations. Occasionally catching Caston eyeing you both closely, especially when you would look up at Viktor to ask him an innocent question about the other projects or about where you were going for lunch after class.

Caston watched you with invested interest, remembering all the times he had seen you interact with Viktor in and out of class. He figured you were just being nice, and he honestly knew nothing about you outside of academics, as he watched you pick a piece of lint off of Viktor’s pant leg.

When class was dismissed you waited for Viktor to stand before joining him, Caston had stepped out into the aisle to let you both pass. He watched you walk out, following close behind waiting for a break in your conversation to ask you out. You had already met before so there was no need for introductions.

“Hey, y/n,” Caston reached out to get your attention in the middle of you talking to Viktor.

You stopped and looked at him in confusion, “yes?”

“I’ve been wondering if you wanted to go out sometime,” his charming smile made you blush when you realized what he was asking.

“Oh, uh, when?” You didn’t want to schedule anything during your regular study times with Viktor. “We kind of have research to do.”

Viktor stepped off to the side, giving you ample space so no one felt awkward. Plus, this was the last conversation he wanted to be a part of.

“Like just coffee or something,” he suggested, a friendly smile mixed with his words. “We could go when you’re free from,” he glanced at Viktor who was pretending to be nose deep in a pocket sized book, “studying or whatever.”

Caston loomed over you, he was taller than Viktor and you felt a little intimidated. You couldn’t deny he was classically attractive with his nearly flawless olive skin and dark eyes. His square jaw was artistically defined, perfectly kept curls adorned his head, occasionally falling over his forehead. What possessed him to ask you out was far from your index of explanations.

“I’m free tomorrow morning,” you practically blurted out and blushed.

“The café?”

“Sure,” you smiled at him as you left, taking in his dark eyes one last time over your shoulder as you went back to Viktor.

He saw how glad you seemed to be noticed by someone romantically. He cared about you enough to be happy for you as he listened to you change the topic from Caston and instead asked him about the book he was reading.

Regardless of his support for you, Viktor couldn’t help but feel his heart sink.

******

#viktor arcane x reader #arcane #arcane viktor #reader x viktor #viktor x reader #viktor #viktor/reader #reader/viktor #ao3 #arcane viktor x you #viktor x you #you x viktor #you/viktor #dont worrydfj vnlzidjkvnlz;idsu #perfect strangers

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lexosaurus · 2 years

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Emergency Contact: Part 4

read on: [ao3] [ffn]

Also check out the incredible art for this chapter by @ravenatural-art

Characters: Lancer & Phantom Tags: Hurt/Comfort, found family WC: 5219 Summary: When William Lancer answered the phone that day, little did he know that he would go from an average literature teacher and cat-dad to now the emergency foster parent of a very injured teenage ghost.

Part: [1] [2] [3]

— — —

“Really? Again?” Phantom said.

“Yes, we need to make sure the dough won’t crack.”

Phantom held up his sheet of misshapen pasta dough. “Why? Isn’t this soft enough? Look, no cracks!”

William raised an eyebrow, putting down the fork he had been using to stir the spinach into his ricotta cheese and egg mixture. He leaned over and pinched the dough with his fingers. “Fold it in one more time and then you can adjust the setting on the pasta machine.”

“Yes, Chef Lancer!” Phantom rolled his eyes but nonetheless complied with William’s harsh demands.

“What’s wrong?” William teased. “I thought you said you knew how to cook.”

“Yeah, like, regular pasta! You know, the kind that comes in a box!”

“Fresh pasta is always better.”

“And more annoying.”

“Oh, come now, it’s not that hard.”

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t have just used the box stuff.”

William would never admit that he had spent the morning scrolling through adoptive and foster parent forums looking for bonding activities he could do with Phantom now that the child had healed enough to walk around freely.

“I’ve found success in cooking with new foster kids. Especially more hands-on dishes like homemade pasta. It allows us some time to get comfortable with each other, it’s fun, and it gives us a tasty reward!”

Well, if VioletsRed432 said it worked for her, then of course William immediately went to the grocery store for the necessary ingredients.

“It builds character. And it tastes good. You’ll see.”

Phantom turned the dial on the pasta machine, narrowing the opening for the dough to travel through.

“So, other than boxed pasta, what sorts of things do you like to cook?” William asked.

“I don’t know. It was always sort of a necessity for us. My um—my parents weren’t very good cooks. My…sister was the one who cooked for us most of the time.”

William kept his gaze fixed on the mixture in his bowl. It was the first time Phantom had offered any sort of information about his past, and like Dante’s Inferno was he going to ruin it.

“Well, in that case, what sorts of things did she make you?”

“Um…easy stuff. You know, like pasta, chicken, rice. That sort of thing. She…she was always really into ‘healthy adolescent development,’ or whatever you call it. She wanted to make sure I got all my nutrients.” The corner of Phantom’s lip quirked up. “Not that it really mattered. But she was nice like that.”

William wondered if she had also died along with his parents. Maybe their family had been in an accident of some nature?

Why else would Phantom avoid them? Why have William come to the hospital instead of his sister?

Although…now that he thought of it, it wasn’t like there were many people who reported corporal, deceased relatives visiting after the funeral. Maybe it was somewhat of a taboo for ghosts higher on the ectoplasmic scale to go back to living relatives, then?

Not for the first time, William wished there were some more prominent ghost experts on the field who had more amicable one-on-one interaction with the ghosts outside of their captivity. Though he had been digging through papers since the beginning of Phantom’s tenure at his residence, he had hardly gathered any useful information. Maybe he would just have to begrudgingly accept his role as the new pioneer in ectoplasmic adolescent psychology.

Him, Mr. Lancer. A high school literature teacher.

Wasn’t that a depressing thought?

“Your sister sounded like a very kind person,” he said, attempting his venture into uncharted waters.

Fortunately, unlike what the “expert” papers suggested, Phantom didn’t explode into a violent light-show at the mere prod into his past.

“She was…is, I don’t know.”

William knew he failed to hide his reaction at that. But just as he had opened his mouth to say more, Phantom’s head jerked up.

“Car.” Phantom pointed to the window where a black Chevy had pulled into the driveway. “You sure it’s ok that I’m out here?”

“Absolutely. As I’ve said before, Laura already knows that you’re staying here with me. If she wanted to turn you over to the government, she would have done it two weeks ago.”

“Okay.” Phantom exhaled a long breath. “Okay, got it.”

William set his fork down and made for the door. As always, he could hear Laura before he could see her.

“Jesus, Will, you feeding your chrysanthemums steroids or something?” Laura yelled from his walkway.

William opened the door, a smile involuntarily adorning his lips. “Laura, always a pleasure.”

She stepped through the threshold and peeled off her jean jacket to reveal a plaid shirt underneath. “Seriously though, how the hell are you getting your flowers to look like that? Mine keep dying on me.”

“Irrigation is a marvelous work of science.”

“Maybe I’ll try that next year.” She set her jacket on a coat hanger in the closet and kicked off her shoes as if she were in her own home. And well, she may as well have been. For the past twenty years, she had been a constant in William’s life. Their friendship may have begun with fast food and movie nights in William’s first dingy apartment, but through the years they had grown thicker than thieves, as Laura’s wife Cassandra put it.

“So…” She started in an attempt to lower her voice. Although, even she had once admitted that the skill of an ‘indoor voice’ was something she may never master.

“He’s in the kitchen,” William finished quickly.

“Got it!” Laura welcomed herself into the house. “Something smells good in here!”

There was a clatter from the kitchen, and William hurried over to see a flustered Danny Phantom hurriedly picking up a few utensils from the floor.

“Sorry! Sorry,” he said. “I—uh—my bad.”

Laura, who was no stranger to nervous teens, didn’t hesitate to move over to the mixing bowl. “Wow, you're making fresh ravioli? Gourmet cooking!”

Phantom stood back up, awkwardly straightening out his oversized hoodie. He glanced between William and Laura as if they’d each grown a second head. “Yeah. Uh, glad to impress?”

“I hope Will isn’t giving you too hard of a time in the kitchen. He can be such a tyrant!”

“Oh please.” William plucked the now-dirty utensils out of Phantom’s hand and plopped them in the sink. “You can hardly say that with a straight face.”

“Ha! You know I love to tease.”

“Well, I believe introductions are in order. Laura, this is Phantom. Phantom, Laura. Although, you may know her better as Ms. Tetslaff.”

“Oh, he needs no introduction.” Turning to Phantom, she said, “I see you enough meandering in our halls!”

If it was even possible, Phantom’s cheeks burned an even brighter shade of green. “Oh—uh—” he spluttered.

Laura tilted her head back and laughed, her voice booming in William’s quiet home. “Will, I like this one!”

“Glad to hear as much. As you can see, we’re not quite done here. Would you like to help us fill the pasta?”

“Happily!” Laura grabbed the sheet of dough from the table. “Nice and soft! Perfectly done.”

Like a spell, the awkwardness snapped from Phantom’s face, replaced with his teenage indignation. “That’s what I’ve been saying! But no, Lancer said it needed to be worked more!”

“Did I not give you the okay to roll it thin?”

“Yeah but that was after like twenty thousand other times folding and cranking it through your rusted machine!”

“Oh, and which one of us has cooked pasta before?” William asked. “You? No? That’s what I thought.”

Phantom rolled his eyes so hard, William thought they would disappear straight into his skull.

Laura barked another laugh. “Teenagers! Always in a hurry, huh?”

“You’re telling me.”

As if to prove William’s point, Phantom threw his hands in the air and huffed, “Whatever!”

Even with Phantom’s outward indifference, when it came time to fill and seal the raviolis, William couldn’t help but notice Phantom’s eyebrows knitting in concentration as he perfectly spaced out his fork imprints around the edges. When he and Laura held a competition to see who could make the most immaculate ravioli, William noted the way Phantom’s eyes lit up with pride as he presented his pasta, the way he flashed his teeth in a wide smile when he won, the way his aura brightened and his feet left the ground.

Phantom was finally setting in. And all it took was a dinner night with his old gym teacher.

“Alright now cooking them is actually quite fast. The tricky part is being gentle with them so they don’t burst. Would you like to try it for me?” William hovered in front of the pot of boiling water, offering Phantom the ladle.

It was fascinating how the same teenager who jumped straight into battle against ghosts twice his stature was so quick to cower away from a mere ladle.

“No, it’s fine. You can do it.”

“Suit yourself.”

“So Phantom, or should I call you by your first name?” Laura asked, leaning against the counter.

Phantom rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh—um, you can call me Danny.”

“Alright, Danny. So what do you do for fun around here? You know, when you’re not out catching ghosts?”

“Um…” Phantom’s eyes flickered over to Lancer. “I don’t know. Normal things I think. Like watching movies and playing video games.”

“Another gamer? You know, Will here is a bit of a gamer too!”

William’s cheeks heated up. “Laura, I’m hardly—”

“He’s lying. He plays Doomed like every weekend.”

Phantom’s eyes bugged out. “Seriously?”

William sighed. “Yes, although I know it is hard to believe, teachers do in fact have hobbies too.”

Laura failed to stifle her chuckle. That conniving little…

“I love that game.”

William nearly dropped his ladle into the pot of boiling pasta.

“My friends and I play it all the time. I’ve been stuck on level nine forever. One of my friends is really good at the game. She apparently joined just to troll me and this other guy—she’s crazy good at video games—and then ended up getting hooked on it.”

“Great, now I’ve got two nerds in my vicinity!”

But William could hardly pay attention to Laura’s friendly moaning because something tight in his gut had begun to unravel. And then he realized what it was.

It was that little barrier separating William from Phantom. That thick wall Phantom had constructed so perfectly to give others the semblance of his personality without actually revealing anything.

But here it was: another facet of Phantom’s true interests outside of ghost hunting. A taste as to what was behind that glowing aura.

And William was ecstatic.

Phantom had mentioned enjoying space and astronomy. And while William had secretly checked out a book on his Libby app regarding the history of NASA and was planning on getting to it this weekend when he had downtime, this was perfect. This was an interest he knew about, something he could hold a conversation in.

And so he couldn’t help himself. “I have six of the seven keys.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at the way Phantom’s jaw dropped.

“I’m sorry, you what?” Phantom exclaimed.

“It’s true,” William said, spooning the ravioli out of the water. “I’m on level thirteen. Just need to beat this to get the seventh key and then I can beat the game.”

“You what?!”

“Oh no, Will, you’ve broken the kid!”

And William stood there, his facial skills acquired from years of working in education fully invoked as he gazed innocently over to the boy who’s shock was still mounting. His eyes sparkled as he stared at William with awe and wonder. And maybe this was a trick of the light, but William could have sworn his aura was glowing just a little bit brighter.

Phantom’s mouth moved soundlessly before finally letting out a, “But how?”

“As I said., teachers have hobbies outside of school.”

“Yeah but Doomed?” Phantom’s legs formed a tail as he snapped over to William, hovering behind as he finished putting the cooked pasta in a bowl. “I figured you’d be into something like knitting or whatever English teachers do when they’re not reading.”

“Kid, you are too funny!” Laura said.

“I don’t know!” Phantom’s face flushed green. “I just never figured you’d play video games!”

“Phantom, I assure you that I’ve been playing video games since before you were born.”

“Clearly! Freaking level thirteen—dude!”

William didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that boyish wonder in the child’s face. “We can play together sometime. I’ll show you all my tricks.”

If possible, Phantom’s eyes grew even wider at that.

“I don’t think he wants to,” Laura quipped. “Sounds like he’d rather spend the day with my class reliving his teenage memories of running the mile—”

“Gross, don’t even joke about that!” Phantom said, although his words had little bite to them. He grabbed an empty plate and began serving himself.

It was nice to see, for once, the boy acting comfortable enough to get food in William’s home without a second thought.

“Coming from a dead person, those tests are torture.”

Laura followed Phantom’s lead, taking her own plate and scooping pasta and salad onto it. “Not much of a runner, are you?”

“Flying’s a lot more fun.”

“How does that all work?” Laura asked.

William hadn’t breached into too much of the ghost-biology territory so as not to scare Phantom off, but he had to admit he was curious as well.

Phantom’s tail morphed back into legs and he settled down in his seat. “What do you mean?”

“Well, that, for one. Flying and everything. How does that work?” Laura asked.

“Oh…” Phantom tilted his head. “Flying? I don’t really know. I just sort of do it. I think it’s an ectoplasm thing. I don’t know enough about science or ectobiology to know for sure. But I’m sure there’s some paper or something out there that explains it.”

“I wonder if the Fentons have something,” Laura mused.

William couldn’t help but notice the way Phantom stiffened at the mention of their name.

“Probably,” he said, forcing his eyes away from Phantom as he sat down in his own chair. “But there must also be scientists in the Ghost Zone, right?”

Phantom relaxed once again. “Yeah! Actually, I’m friends with one. This guy Frostbite? You wouldn’t have heard of him. He stays in the Zone.”

The name Frostbite rang a bell, but William couldn’t place where he’d heard it from.

“He’s a scientist ghost?” Laura asked.

Phantom took a bite out of his pasta, and his eyes immediately lit up. He took his time swallowing before he answered, “Sort of. He’s the leader of one of the Zone’s ghost civilization islands—I don’t really know what to call them. It’s a bunch of yetis, basically. Their whole thing is science, though. They’re really cool. I stay with them a lot when I’m in the Zone.”

Now that was curious wording. Based on how happily Phantom spoke of this ghost, it didn’t seem like he was the source of Phantom’s lacerations.

So then why hadn’t Phantom gone to him? If he wasn’t home—a place where Phantom could no longer go—then why had Phantom stayed with William instead?

Unless…

Unless this Frostbite character was too far. Unless Phantom’s home was on Earth. Unless Phantom didn’t have a home in the Ghost Zone.

And the realization hit William like a train because now it seemed only too obvious how often Phantom was spotted in the human world, why he was so protective over Amity Park, how he ended up in Amity General Hospital at all.

It was because Phantom lived here. In Amity Park.

His home was in Amity.

So then where the hell was Phantom living? Who was he with? Were they humans? Were they other ghosts?

How did he get so hurt?

Thankfully, it didn’t seem that Phantom nor Laura had picked up on the whirlwind of thoughts running through Wiliam’s brain. They both sat at the table now talking animatedly about other facets of the Ghost Zone, seemingly oblivious to William’s existence. And this was perfect because William suddenly felt faint.

He tried to think back to the few articles about ghost sociology and psychology he’d stumbled across over the years, but he couldn’t remember anything about powerful ghosts habiting the Earth. He remembered reading about weaker ones—usually, they were so weak that they could only be detected via ectoplasmic scanners.

So to hear Phantom imply that he, a stronger ghost who could easily have his own nook in the Ghost Zone, actually resided in Amity Park? Well, that was unprecedented.

He wondered if that was part of the reason why Phantom seemed to tense whenever the Fentons were mentioned. Maybe they suspected so much and had been trying to track down Phantom’s home? Maybe they had already found it?

William wished he had a way of asking. Although with the current state of that family and the CPS calls that he was going to place if he didn’t get a response to his latest email, he didn’t think he would be in their good graces for too much longer.

Well, maybe at the rate he and Phantom’s friendship had been blooming, he might get an answer from the source himself.

But not today. Not right now.

“...so that’s why Amity’s such a hotspot for ecto-activity?” Laura was asking, a piece of ravioli dangling off her fork.

Phantom nodded, his face sunnier than William had seen him in a long time. His freckles glowed, dotting his skin like constellations, and a small fang poked out of his grin.

“Will it move? The point where the two dimensions touch?”

“I don’t know,” Phantom said. “I don’t think it’s always entirely linear, either. The GZ’s made of ectoplasm, and I don’t understand the physics behind it at all. I grew up on human physics, not ghost physics. Like, Frostbite’s people are also time travelers. They usually don’t take other ghosts along with them, but I went with them once and learned that Ancient Greece used to be a hotspot for ecto-activity.”

“Maybe the humans need to start teaching about ecto-physics,” William mused, rejoining the conversation.

“Well, you should tell some of your academic people to get on that!” Phantom said.

“Maybe the Fentons should do that lecture on ectology,” Laura said. “I know the administration’s been talking about it for a while.”

William tried to make his glance over to Phantom not seem too obvious. “Considering their assembly on ghost safety ended up with a student drenched in ectoplasm and the fire alarm pulled, I don’t think the PTA will approve of that so soon. But others in the field are experts too. We might be able to pull one of them in.”

“I can vet them!” Phantom cut in. Then sheepishly, he rubbed his neck and added, “You know, if you want.”

William could have sworn he recognized that little shy quirk from somewhere. But whatever was on the tip of his tongue refused to come out.

“There’s no better vet for a qualified ectologist than a ghost.” William offered him a thumbs up.

Phantom beamed then turned his attention back to his nearly finished plate of food, eating with more gusto than William had seen from him.

And thank goodness for that. He may not have been an expert on ghost biology, but it was plainly obvious that Phantom needed the calories.

“There’s plenty more if you’d like. Help yourself.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Laura grabbed her now-empty plate and stood. “This meal is delicious! Who knew you would make such a good sous-chef, Phantom?”

Phantom blushed that adorable bright green. He ducked his head before peering up at William, a soft smile on his lips. “Thanks. You know…for everything.”

“Of course.” William wasn’t sure if he failed to hide the warmth that overtook him to his core. “My home is yours, okay?”

“Yeah.” Phantom’s eyes turned glassy, and he hid under his bangs. “Still, thanks.”

— — —

The telltale sound of crackling ectoplasm came first. Danny sprang up, hairs on his neck commanding attention before the shuddering breath of his ghost sense left his lungs.

“Hiding, are we?” a sultry sweet voice said, stepping out from the portal.

Despite the burning in his chest, Danny whipped into a snarling defensive stance without a flinch.

Plasmius’ eyes swept over him, his lips curling into a signature smirk. “Or are you ever planning on leaving this dreadful place?”

Danny wanted to snap at Vlad, tell him to shut the hell up and get out. But his mind was moving a hundred miles a minute and all he could blurt out was, “How did you know?”

“You’re going to have to be slightly more specific, Little Badger,” Plasmius purred.

“How did you know I was here? Do—do my parents know?”

“Your parents seem to be rather…occupied at the moment, dear.” Plasmius tutted, then made a grandiose show of floating over to one of Lancer’s many bookcases and leafing through the titles.

Danny's hands dropped to his side and curled into a fist. He so badly yearned to punch Vlad in his stupid, ugly face, but he resisted.

“Their poor son was so viciously killed by a ghost who then took his place, you see. How dreadful! What a horrible, horrible creature that ghost must be, hmm?”

His fists tightened. “Shut up, Vlad. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Vlad turned back to face Danny, his expression morphing into faux sympathy that melted back into amusement a second later. “But I haven’t even gotten to the good part, where they strapped that horrible ghost down to a table and—”

The blast left Danny’s hand before he could stop himself.

Fortunately, Vlad had the reaction time to absorb it with a shield before it could scorch any of Lancer’s books.

“Careful! We wouldn’t want to hurt this gracious teacher’s home, not after he’s been so kind to nurse you back to health! After all, what do you think the man would do if you dared hurt his…” Vlad plucked a book out of the shelf. “His signed copy of The Kite Runner! Daniel, you savage creature!”

“Shut UP!” Ice crawled up his sleeve. “If you just came here to be a dick, then you can fucking leave already. You have no idea what happened, so just fuck off, Plamius.”

“Oh Daniel, I may not have been there, but it doesn’t exactly take a rocket scientist to know how dear Maddie and that bumbling idiot ended up in the emergency room. Nor you, actually. How’s the chest?”

Rage shook through his body, and on instinct, he hugged his arms into his torso. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Oh trust me, my dear boy, I know everything.” Vlad gave him a scalding grin before turning back to the bookshelf. “My, my! This is certainly an impressive collection. An original printing of Crime and Punishment? That’s quite impressive indeed.”

“Did you really just come here to make fun of me?”

“No, though that’s always such a delectable treat. No wonder Miss Spectra loves you so much.”

A wave of nausea rolled over Danny, and he shrunk in on himself. “Stop feeding off me, you creep.”

Vlad snapped the book shut. “Then stop being such a blaring beacon of a restless spirit, child. Do you even understand how easy it was to find you? I’ve known you’ve been here for days now.”

“Because you’re a fucking creep who tracks me!”

“I was hardly trying! You, on the other hand, obviously have no regard for your own personal safety, even after that little stunt you pulled in your parents’ lab. Sending them both to the hospital with third-degree burns might have been a bit excessive if I do say so myself. Well, for Maddie, anyway. The oaf can burn in hell for all I care.”

“Shut up, they’re my parents!”

“Were your parents. They stopped being your parents the moment you stupidly revealed yourself to them.”

“You have to be a total moron if you think even for a second that I was trying to reveal myself to them on purpose!” Danny bit back. He raised a glowing fist, and a part of him deep inside that he loathed cheered at how much light was emitting from the concentrated ball of ectoplasm. “Besides, what I do is none of your fucking business.”

Vlad responded in kind, leaving the bookshelf to float high above Danny’s head. He flashed his fangs and heightened his own aura. “On the contrary, my dear boy, the reveal was as much of a threat to your own safety as it was to mine. Even if they don’t know that half ghosts exist, they’ve connected the dots between your portal accident and the disgusting creature that you’ve become. Now they know that ghosts can fully disguise themselves as regular humans. It’s only a matter of time before they start snooping around me.”

“Then that sounds like your fucking problem.”

“And what of you, then? Your core acted in self-defense, decimating your lab and turning the rest of your home to rubble. Have you even seen what’s left of your parents’ greatest creations?”

The light in his fist sputtered out.

Vlad hovered closer to Danny, and his smile widened. “It’s all gone, thanks to you.”

Guilt clawed through his stomach. “I didn’t mean to hurt them.”

“Too little too late, I’m afraid. Though thankfully, Maddie looks just as radiant as always, even with the scarring on her forehead.”

“I fucked up.” Danny lowered his feet to the ground and pulled at his hair with his gloves. At once, everything he’d been holding in for the past two weeks came splitting to the surface. “I can’t—I fucked up, Vlad. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Please, you have to understand, they caught me by surprise. I didn’t see them waiting in my room when I detransformed after patrol. I had—I had no idea.”

Danny remembered the sickening inhale of breath from his mother. He remembered turning around, he remembered seeing their horrified faces.

He remembered his mother whispering, “Danny?”

He remembered the flash of light that followed.

Danny squeezed his eyes shut. “I never wanted this to happen.”

“Well, it did.” Vlad’s tone shifted to one uncharacteristically soft. “Jasmine is worried about you.”

“Jazz?” Danny croaked.

“She was staying with me in my mansion. Her parents and I felt it was the best arrangement until she was able to return to them.”

Her parents, echoed in Danny’s mind. Her parents, not your parents. Her parents.

“Is she okay?”

“She’s unharmed if that’s what you mean. But she’s worried. About you, Little Badger.”

Danny jerked his head away. “Well, tell her I’m fine.”

“Ah yes, because I’m sure a simple ‘Danny says he’s fine’ from me will really do so much to ease her worries.”

“Shut up,” Danny said, but the fight had already left his voice. Though he refused to look, Danny could feel Plasmius slowly creeping toward him. His aura crackled in warning, but he knew his efforts were futile.

“Daniel, come home with me.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t an order. It was a simple statement of fact.

Still, old habits died hard. Danny couldn’t help the reflexive growl and the “no” that escaped his lips.

A hand fell heavily onto his shoulder.

Plasmius’ hand. But for once, it didn’t claw into him.

“Come with me.”

“I’ll never do that. You know I’ll never do that.”

“Please, child. You’re not safe here.”

“I can protect myself just fine.”

Vlad scoffed, and Danny couldn’t blame him. The bandages on his chest suddenly felt tight, and he was all too aware of how feeble his stance was, how his shoulders curled in to offset the pain of the wound on his chest.

“You know that’s not true. Especially now that dear Maddie knows who you are. You think you’re safe here? With a high school literature teacher?” A stream of snark began returning in Vlad’s tone, and he pulled his hand off Danny’s shoulder, brandishing it high like an overzealous quill ready to strike the paper with all its theatrical might. “Because when Maddie returns with her bazooka, I’m sure all these books will provide such an excellent shield!

“I don’t care, I’m not going with you.”

“Yes, you are, Daniel, because you never think. And that’s your greatest downfall.”

Danny whipped around. “I am thinking! I—I’m finally happy. I’m with someone who likes Phantom. I can protect us from my parents. They got me because I was surprised, but they won’t get me again.”

Vlad simply tilted back his head and laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. And let’s actually think this through for once, hmm? Because I doubt dear Lancer truly wants a ghost permanently haunting his guest bedroom.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Oh, I think I know more than most. Tell me, child, do you truly think that your high school teacher wants you here? Last I checked, you were failing his class. What is your plan, just hide out as Phantom forever? What do you think will happen if you accidentally slip back into human form in front of him? Your own parents didn’t accept you, what makes you think he will?”

“Because…because…” Danny tried, but he could feel his own voice failing.

Because Vlad was right. His parents didn’t accept him, they tried to kill him in the most brutal way possible. There was no way a virtual stranger by comparison would accept him when his own flesh and blood hadn’t.

“That’s right, child. He won’t. Being both dead and alive is an abomination, a taboo of science. Normal humans can’t wrap their heads around it. So of course, he won’t be able to accept you; he won’t be able to truly care about you.”

Tears pricked behind his eyes.

“Just come with me. You can’t stay here, you know this. I’m the only one who truly understands, child.”

Danny hung his head, whispering, “Okay.”

Because what other choice did he have?

A heavy hand fell onto his shoulder, and he looked up to see the faux compassion in Vlad’s face overshadowed by his smug grin. But he didn’t have it in him to be angry at seeing Vlad so triumphant. He didn’t care anymore.

He had no one left. His parents wanted him dead, his sister was too young to do anything about it, and he couldn’t hide forever with his English teacher who definitely hated his human half’s guts.

“Good boy,” Vlad said. He raised a hand, and another portal was created. “After you, my child.”

Danny took a shuddering breath and looked around the cozy room with its high bookshelves one last time. He tried to find Poe—just to say goodbye—but the cat was nowhere to be seen.

Not that Danny blamed him for hiding.

His bottom lip trembled and his hands shook, but still, he stepped forward.

The swirling mass of green accepted him, and then he was gone.

— — —

#danny phantom #emergency contact #phicc #my writing

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fuwungi · 1 year

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Alright so! Here’s the updates on what’s been going on! I was going to put it under a read more/cut thing but I can’t seem to figure that out on mobile so just general tw for mental health talk, trauma, etc

This isn’t going to exactly be linear or anything either cuz my minds just been all over the place but I haven’t been doing good. Haven’t been for a while. I’ve been working on getting help for years now and im thankfully seeing my therapist on the 8th and hoping this one actually stays (cuz my last trauma therapist ghosted me). I got a psych evaluation before hand that took a bit and got diagnosed with severe ptsd and bpd and also paranoid schizophrenia. I never really took my mental health seriously or as seriously as I should becuz for years I was so used to hearing from family and etc that it’s nothing, im just over thinking, “everybody does that” but it’s clearly not the case.

Everything started getting much worse in January, my health started dipping again. I had someone I considered a close friend abandon me and hurt me. Eventually my job I had pretty much set me up to be fired, me and others have considered it’s due to the fact I disclosed my diagnosis cuz it didn’t take long after for me to be fired. And what I was fired for was literally doing exactly what one of the managers told me to do. The next day I had an ex friend blow up at me and trigger my paranoia severely. And after that my abuser outted me and tried to spread harmful lies and misinfo in an attempt to I guess have me run off the internet. A little while after the shop I was apprenticing at also dropped me for my diagnosis but not until the spent a couple weeks straight up ghosting me and ignoring me for hours when I came in (I would come in to practice and work and all of my stuff was moved without telling me, and I also still don’t have any of my stuff back, and nobody would say a word to me or even look at me hardly. And after hours of waiting o would just eventually go home, which was also frustrating cuz I would have the person I’m about to practice on with me waking too. I reached out with messages abt things but was always just left on read.)

All of this just made things worse. I haven’t been able to significantly leave my house for a couple months now ( I say that cuz I still hype myself up to do smaller things like run out to pick up my meds, etc. but if there’s a way around physically doing said thing like ordering groceries, etc I take that). Outside of that I was already having a hard time getting myself to be social or talk to anyone. I haven’t really been talking to anyone or very active since 2020 (which I’m still working on fixing cuz it’s not that I don’t want to talk or anything, I want to so badly, I just really feel like I’m unable to do it).

My psych also diagnosed(? Idk if that’s the right word) me with agoraphobia. Which also explained a lot and helped me realize some things that help me cope and navigate my way socially and in life (and kinnie stuff is one of the things that really helps with that).

So at the moment I’m just freelancing and trying my best to work on myself. After finishing the rest of my comm queue I’m thinking of taking a break from taking comms and just focusing on my own/personal art and school (going for botany and economic science).

If you’ve read through this all, thank you so much for listening. I hope this was worded okay/sounds okay. And I can’t thank the ppl who continue to support me enough.

#txt

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hospitalterrorizer · 5 months

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diary223

4/25-26/2024

thursday - friday

going in for closing tomorrow.

and i am staying up too late now. i should sleep soon, but today i went out, it was nice and fun, i almost read something in front of people but did not, maybe i should have but i was nervous about the people there, but the reading was nice, better than the ones we usually get to see. it's interesting what people who aren't in school for writing get up to.

i would have read that random thing i spat out a few days ago, the 'assemblage' which i still need to throw more into. i didn't really do any creative work today, i just relaxed outside of work, which wasn't so bad, terribly dull and a waste of time and life, but not exhausting especially. tomorrow might be, cuz i am closinnng.

doesn't matter though, soon this really will be all over.

i do need to get the cds i was wanting to get off discogs too, and then a birthday gift for my gf... i have something in mind.

beyond alll thissss, idk. tomorrow i might try to record. need to sleep soon to get to that at a reasonable time since i need to leave at 1 pm. and then fix my sleep again.

bluh.

thinking more about doing a reading of my own writing is exciting, it's nice that there's a place to do it and that i've got friends involved in that. one person who i really enjoy seeing/hanging out with/talking to.

i also read more agua viva, it is very specific, it reaches at such an internal point of me, and i think the act of living broadly, it is hard to transmit what it does, it can hardly transmit itself, it is a stumbling thing, the speaker says often, i want inconsistency, the inconclusive, the ability to not answer, the ability to dissolve, the cavernous, the flow of becoming. i too want this, to be near this flow. and to be near it, a source of pain, as much as the wanting is the pain too.

it is hard to write about but the more time i spend with it, perhaps the easier it will become, all books, the clots of writing and thought themselves, not authors, but the words, both in sound and play and in meaning or meaninglessness, these represent other ways of thinking and seeing i think, i believe that really, each one you open into something else, to contend with, another place to be, and in drinking in that, the delicacy and the voluptuousness of each, you do not leave it behind upon finishing but it is a new fold in a fabric along your interior, more studded grows the life we lead, textured and sparkling, attention goes to stranger places.

this is part of, i think, what the book reaches at. this painter character makes efforts to escape painting, nothing in plot especially, it is simply spoken, to enter into words, shirking off the act of painting. into, i am not sure, speaking, words, not an explicit poetry but one which is implied not by form but by gesture maybe.

anyhow, i do need to be sleeping, but one maybe embarrassing thing i was thinking about today, recently a favorite yt channel of mine uploaded an 11 hour playthru of illbleed, it was one of the first things he did on his channel, and something about the game but also his presence makes me very happy, it's somewhere a part of me that makes me feel consistent with myself, those images, that voice. another one, watching the infinite review and hearing owen/mechagamezilla. weird and pathetic becuz most yt stuff is so so so disposable and that's almost the point of what these people i like do, discard for the sake of it. there is just something there, they have i guess been parts of my life for like, a long time, mechagamezilla especially. i like that he now does videos about stuff that is not games, i always want gamers(tm) to get out of that, just broadly, it feels like part of why videogames seem stuck in lots of ways, as an art or whatever you want to call it. it's almost by design though, they so often take so much time, as hobbies. especially with the development of effectively infinite games, seasonal multiplayer, gambling simulation, infinitely randomizable games, a lot of roguelikes. it is weird.

anyway, i need to sleep actually, so

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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peachlit · 4 years

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not to like make excuses but it’s honestly so fucking hard for my adhd brain to separate home and school now that i have to do online classes

#like all of my stuff is here and it keeps distracting me #even before all of this i could hardly even do homework at home because of the same reason #i’d have to stay on campus if i wanted to get any of it done but that’s obviously not an option anymore #my school is letting people sit in the parking lot of the campus i go to to access wifi and i feel like that might work for me to get stuff #if it weren’t for the fact that my laptop doesn’t work anymore #and that i don’t have enough room in my car to work on my art homework #rn i’m supposed to be doing art that’s due today but i did some of it and got bored and now here i am #online classes and adhd really just don’t go well together at all #ALSO can anyone tell me why the fuck my art teacher gave us and assignment that required us to go outside #during a state mandated stay-at-home order because of a worldwide pandemic??#like he even suggested us going downtown or something for this?

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chickenparm · 2 years

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Sold to silco sold to silco sold to silco (wattpad, yes, but also serious if you dare)

don't you dare say i don't love you guys. the things i do for you are astounding. harry styles is going to be so broken up about not answering that craigslist ad about some chick selling her daughter.

Sold-to-Silco Wattpad Fic 1,147 Words ---

It’s not the sound of your alarm that wakes you up - you can’t remember the last time it’d had the chance to do that instead of your mother’s ungodly screeching of your name. Ugh, what a bitch.

With a long-suffering groan, you roll out of bed until your feet hit the hardwood floor, and you look at your bedroom for a second. It is very cool. Your walls are painted black, but you can hardly see them because of all your cool posters and art. Some of them are your favorite bands like Good Charlotte and a heavy metal band that you enjoy that’s called All American Rejects. That one was signed and you kiss it before you go to sleep every night.

Your bedroom is very sparse otherwise - there’s a California king sized bed that you found in a dumpster and brought home, a desk that you’re supposed to do your homework on but doing well in school is for preps, and your closet which is filled with all your band t-shirts and skinny jeans and converse and Tripp pants (from Hot Topic, of course) and your studded belts.

Your mom is coming down the stairs, stomping on every step and you know she’s going to be upset that you’re in your Invader Zim pajamas still instead of getting dressed in your school uniform that you put studs and belts on so you can stand out because you’re a non-conformist and every day you have to sit in detention for it but that’s fine because school doesn’t matter anyway.

Once you graduate your band is going to get signed by a big record label and you’re going to be famous and who cares? Oh yeah, you’re in a band and you play lead guitar and also you sing. Everyone says you sound like a mix between Amy Lee from Evanescence and also that one chick from Flyleaf.

Before your mom can open the door, you hurry to get ready by tying your long, straight, black, curly hair into a messy bun that’s also purposefully messy to make it look like you don’t care because you don’t but it has to look that way also so people know you don’t. You also put on some swipes of mascara and line your eyes with perfectly winged eyeliner and also the shade Gash by Urban Decay because that’s what Gerard Way uses and he’s literally so hot.

Just as you perfectly arrange your belts - not through the loops though, that’s for preps - your mom kicks the entire door in and she has a bunch of crumpled papers in her hands, “Get up! You’re going to your new home, you ungrateful stinky little brat!”

“I’m NOT stinky, I’m wearing the Nightmare Before Christmas Bone Daddy perfume.”

“Well you have a new dad now. I had some debts from purchasing too many Robux and now I sold you to this guy and you’re his problem now!”

Your mom pulls out an entire cigarette, lights it, and then smokes it all in one entire huff until it’s all gone before she throws it on the floor, “Pack your shit, you butt-sniffing fart huffer, he will be here to come and get you in two minutes.”

“UGH, this is so not cool,” You pout for a moment, stomping your converse-wearing foot on the floor just as she leaves the room. Now you have to pack your stuff and miss school and you were supposed to hang out under the bleachers today and brood with the other emos. That sucks.

You turn on your stereo very loud and make sure Green Day’s Jesus of Suburbia is playing. It’s your favorite song, Saint Jimmy is like… your idol. You pack your favorite clothes and make sure that your makeup is also there and that you also look very good in the mirror. Outside there is a honk that lasts a long time, like they’re holding the horn down.

Also your room is in the basement because it’s dark and scary and makes you feel like you’re a vampire, so you take the stairs two at a time and almost miss a few because you’re so clumsy and quirky. Your mom is waiting by the door and she is very impatiently tapping her foot with her hands on her hips. She doesn’t say bye, but she laughs in your face and says, “Good luck!”

The door hits you on the way out and it hurts but you don’t make a face because you don’t want her to know that it hurts even though she probably does know. Parked right in the middle of the street without even using its hazard-lights is a shiny black limousine with all of its windows tinted. The driver jumps out and runs to open one of the doors for you when you walk closer, and when you sit down inside there is a man.

He is very weird. His face is kind of fucked-up but like in a good way that makes him look dashing and mysterious but also vulnerable and the good kind of ugly like a pug (adopt don’t shop). Except his nose is super big which is not like a pug and you tell him that, “Your nose is very big.”

“Thank you, I grew it myself. I am your new dad now. You can call me dad.”

“You’re not even my real dad,” You say and cross your arms. The man frowns very deep and it makes his whole face look weird.

“I have the paperwork and I am your dad.”

“But not my REAL dad. I don’t even know him so he can’t be you.”

The man laughs at you for a few minutes and then he says, “Actually I did a DNA test when I signed the paperwork and I am your real dad. Let’s go home now to my mansion.”

And then the limo starts to drive and the man says his name is Silco. He gives you a glass of champagne to celebrate even though you’re not even old enough to drink but he says, “Who cares?”

Those are your favorite two words so you drink the champagne and Silco tells you that he lives in a mansion with maids and butlers and also there’s game rooms. When you tell him that you are in a band, Silco says he will sign you to his record label because he is a music producer and will make you famous and your band is going on tour next week.

On the drive there you have seven more glasses of champagne and you’re so drunk that you lay across the seat and fall asleep. Silco gives you a jacket and pats you on the head and says good night. You dream about kissing Pete Wentz with tongue and also going to a Black Veil Brides concert.

#silco #silco arcane #shitpost #reader insert #satire #i'm just out here clowning on wattpad

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floralseokjin · 4 years

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⤑ made-up love song iii.

Your first encounter with Kim Seokjin doesn’t go so well, nor your second, or your third… and maybe that’s because it shouldn’t work on paper. You’re an elementary school teacher, never left the country despite hitting the third decade of your life not so long ago, and you’re unable to remember the last time you dated. He’s the dad of one of your students, nearly a decade older than you and divorced. Oh yes, and just another minor detail – he’s a multimillionaire.

Your lives are lightyears apart, yet somehow, your paths having now crossed, things just seem to fall into place…

pairing; kim seokjin x reader au/genre/warnings; strangers to lovers, romance, eventual smut, eventual angst, single dad! seokjin, ceo! seokjin, elementary school teacher! oc, age gap (oc is 30, seokjin is 37), seokjin is a dilf, lots of lasagne talk, flirting, kissing, fluff 🥰 words; 9,340

↪︎ chapter index

chapters; i • ii • iii • iv • v • vi • vii • viii • ix • x • epilogue (+ drabbles)

After you had time to calm down, of course you ended up telling Soojung about what happened on the date. You kept some things to yourself, mainly about how giddy you had felt throughout the whole thing, but you were sure she could see that for herself – she kept looking at you knowingly, and for once she kept the teasing down to a minimum. You ended up staying awake quite late, Soojung opening a bottle of wine. You were still excited from the date and the thought of what was to come next, but somewhere along the line, you and your best friend started getting into your feelings. (Was it really a Saturday night until you and Soojung ended it with slightly drunk sappy heart to hearts and hugs? Obviously not…)

For the first time in a while you felt comfortable enough to open up about your love life (or lack of one) and felt it easy to talk about the past and to even bring up Donghae. He was a forbidden topic for the most part, no matter how much you were over him, but tonight had changed something. You didn’t know how to explain it, and no, it wasn’t because Seokjin was somehow the man of your dreams who had magically made things better with just one date. That was dumb and only happened in cliché Hallmark movies.

No, it was because tonight had shown you that life goes on. No matter what rock bottom you hit, or how long it took you to get over it, no hurt was forever. You’d been single for a long time, and happy at that – after you’d gotten over the heartbreak of Donghae cheating on you – but tonight you’d had fun. You’d enjoyed yourself, enjoyed Seokjin’s company. You didn’t know what would come of your second date, or if there would be a third, but you were okay with that. You were just living in the moment, and right now you really liked that infuriating-not-so-infuriating bastard.

You were taking a chance, just like he was, and it was actually pretty exciting…

You woke up late the next morning, something you didn’t reprimand yourself for because it was summer break after all, but also, you had a raging wine headache that had needed all the shut eye it could get. Your head was still throbbing slightly as you reached for your phone on the bedside table but seeing a text from Seokjin waiting for you made it miraculously disappear.

Seokjin (10:28am) Hi Y/N, Thank you for such a great time last night. I can’t wait until Saturday. Would it be alright with you if I kept in touch throughout the week? Seokjin

You giggled to yourself at his insane formalities. Why was that so adorable? But most importantly how could he be both cute and sexy at the same time? He was hellbent on making you lose your mind. You thought about teasing him, asking him when he’d grown comfortable enough to drop the Regards from yesterday, but despite how well last night had gone, and despite how much you loved joking around with him in person, over the phone seemed different. You were still a little nervous – giddy nervous, but nervous, nevertheless. Your conversation from last night with Soojung came back to you, reminding you that this was all too real. You were potentially catching feelings for this man, and it was new, and exciting, but equal parts terrifying now that you’d woken up with a hangover.

Everything you typed out in reply seemed way too stiff, so growing frustrated, you settled on an emoji to cut through the formalities.

You (10:49am) I had such a lovely time too, Seokjin. Of course it’s fine to keep in touch. I’m looking forward to Saturday night! 😊

What did he mean exactly about keeping in touch?, you wondered as you got out of bed, padding your way down the stairs and into the kitchen for a much needed glass of ice cold water. A good morning text? A how are you? You knew he was busy with work all week, so you weren’t expecting too much, but just knowing he wanted to stay in contact until next Saturday made you smile to yourself as you waited for his response.

You didn’t have to wait long.

Seokjin (10:55am) Great! I’m so excited to try your World famous Italian lasagne 😁

Cute. He’d followed your lead, ditching the last of the formalities and even signing off with an emoji instead. You instantly felt more at ease, but –

Oh no.

Why did he have to bring that up and remind you of your humiliating blunder? You knew what would be taking up all of your time for the few days – you needed to perfect this goddamn dish.

Soojung on the other hand was unbothered by your predicament. Mind in the gutter as always. “Do you think that’s a euphemism for something else?” She asked straight away once you’d shown her your messages a few hours later.

“Soojung!” You exclaimed, feeling yourself get a little hot in the face. You wish she’d stop bringing up sex, it was stressing you out. You told her as much.

“You’re the one who’s invited him to your house for a second date.”

You stared at her, greatly unimpressed. “You know why I invited him here.”

You’d told her last night. You’d been hit with a surge of confidence when you’d suggested it was your turn to decide on something. In truth though, you didn’t know the first thing about restaurants, you hardly ever ate out, and when you did it was either fast food or at the food court in the department store Soojung worked at. You knew he wouldn’t have minded any choice you’d made, but that didn’t stop the slight apprehension you felt.

It was normal, given your difference in lifestyles, and whilst that seemed to be no issue thankfully, that difference was still there. However really, that’s why you’d chosen to cook for him. Seokjin had shown you something close to him last night – the restaurant he owned with his brother, and now you were to show him something close to your heart. Something that was you. You loved cooking and baking in your spare time and you wanted to share that with him however small. Granted it was things you were confident with, but lasagne couldn’t be that hard, right? A true perfectionist, you’d master it quickly enough…

Soojung rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you could suggest McDonald’s and Dilf would be insanely happy.” She nudged you, squealing like a kid. “He’s just so into you!”

You wouldn’t bite. She was making you nervous again. “Stop calling him Dilf, he has a name.”

“Geez, sorry.” She held up her hands in apology. “Didn’t mean to offend your man.”

You pushed her shoulder, silently telling her to quit it.

For the next few days it became your life’s goal to master the art of lasagne. Sunday night was spent googling recipes, trying to find the most authentic one. There seemed to be a lot of fuss on the right type of pasta. Flat edged would be fine, but the wavy edge was best. You made note of that. Next was the sauce. Two types. The tomato based one and then the white one – which you learned was called Bechamel. That seemed pretty easy to cook up, but the former seemed a little daunting. Every time you’d had pasta sauce in the past it had been premade, starting from scratch was giving you anxiety. Seokjin thought this was your expertise so you had to make it believable. What if you made it too salty? Too bland?

…Possibly you were thinking way too hard about this. Soojung thought the same.

“Just buy it in a jar, Y/N, for Christ’s sake. You’re taking this way too seriously. You don’t need to learn fluent Italian to make your little white lie believable. It’s a goddamn lasagne.”

She had a point.

“He’d be happy with a sandwich. He’s coming over for you, not the shitty lasagne.”

“Don’t call my non-existent lasagne shitty, you’re setting me up for failure.” You grumbled, looking at the ten tabs you had up on your laptop screen, all claiming to be the best most authentic recipe around.

On Monday you went shopping for ingredients. You knew a small world foods store that was just outside of town, you’d been there a couple of times when you’d been baking with the children for class. With help from signposted aisles, you found what you were looking for in no time at all, so that night, you and Soojung both tucked into your first (sort of) homemade lasagne. Only the Bechamel sauces was harder to master than you’d first thought.

“I think you added too much flour.” Soojung’s nose wrinkled as she spoke. “It’s nice, don’t get me wrong, but the white stuff… I don’t know, maybe it’s supposed to taste like that?”

Nope, she was definitely correct, too much flour, which was odd because you were pretty positive you’d followed the right measurements…

Tuesday you had a day off from the sight, and even the word lasagne. You met for coffee with your mom but kept the date with Seokjin a secret. Not that she pressed about your love life anymore, she’d long given up on that topic. It was nice to catch up and you made plans for a trip soon. It was hard to find time to visit her when you were in work so you were always thankful for the summer and Christmas breaks. You were her only child, so it made your time together even more precious. She’d only remarried ten years ago, and while Jonathon had kids from his first marriage, they lived abroad. They were older than you and had families of their own. You weren’t particularly close for no other reason than the distance. You’d only met them a few times but they were lovely people. Your father had remarried while you were still in high school, having two more children (a son and daughter) with his wife. You were very close to them despite the age gap and saw them as regularly as you could. Your extended family had long been the norm and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

Wednesday you were back on the lasagne. You purchased more pasta sauce and decided on the pre-made Bechamel sauce too, just to be safe. This time around everything went smoothly, Soojung had no complaints and neither did you, but you still invited Taehyung around on Thursday for a third go. He was way more enthusiastic than your best friend, singing your praises all night.

“Y/N, that was amazing!” He exclaimed, leaning back in his chair to pat his belly. “Dilf dick – Uh, I mean, Seokjin, is going to love it.”

“Guys, is that what you really call him when you’re alone together?” You whined.

“Blame Soo,” Taehyung shrugged. “She’s rubbed off on me. But, I’m right,” he smirked. “He’s going to want to give you his DD once he tastes this, if you know what I mean.”

Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, you looked on unimpressed. Maybe if you gave them no reaction they’d stop?

“Oooo. I wonder what his dick even looks like. I bet it’s as handsome as his face.” Soojung squealed, sat beside her boyfriend.

“SOOJUNG!” He cried, mouth open in disbelief.

“Can we just stop talking about his… y’know…” You sighed, unable to say the word aloud. “Imagine if it was the other way around and he was wondering about what I looked like naked.” Soojung wouldn’t be impressed, that was for sure.

“Fine, you’re right,” your best friend sighed. “I’m just way too excited because you finally like someone!!” She was getting loud now, she always did when she was excited. “And I want it to work out because you deserve it!”

You chuckled. “Soo, calm down.” But you had to admit her words were sweet. You reached for her hand across the tiny table, giving it a gentle squeeze of thanks.

“What about Barman dick?” Taehyung asked randomly, totally oblivious that you and she were having a moment. “Huh? Soo? You want my Barman dick tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows again, a playfulness to his voice as he nudged her.

She giggled but wasn’t having any of it. “It doesn’t really have the same ring to it, babe.”

Highly offended he pulled away, pursing his lips. “Whatever.”

“Okay guys, let’s not have a domestic at the dining table.” You laughed. Which was a mistake because now Taehyung’s attention was back on you.

“So, Y/N, when are you going to invite Mr. Dilf to my bar?”

You sniggered. “How about never?”

“Hey, you ladies are being very mean tonight. I complimented your lasagne.” Hm. That was true, you guessed. “What’s wrong with my bar? I think he’d love it. What does he drink? I see him as a dark rum type of guy.”

You shrugged. “He was drinking red wine on our date last week.” It still made you feel funny to say the word date. You’d gone on a date. You were dating. A flurry of excitement found its way to your stomach, your excitement for Saturday growing.

“Interesting,” Taehyung mused.

Soojung stood up, starting to collect your plates. “Okay, I’m washing, who’s drying?”

“Not me,” you sang. “I’ve cooked nearly every night this week.”

Soojung eyes were wide when you met them, as if she was silently begging you. For what? “Just please promise me there won’t be any lasagne waiting for me after work tomorrow night? I’m going to turn into one at this rate.”

Saturday arrived soon enough. You woke up the same time your phone went Bing and you knew exactly who it was. Seokjin had been texting you Good morning every day since Monday. He was no longer signing them off with his name, which was progress, and he was even adding more emojis, so you guessed you had rubbed off on him.

Sometimes he’d drop a meme with the greeting. They were mostly to do with early mornings and workloads to which you’d tease him about because it was your summer vacation after all, you didn’t need to worry about work. But you always sent a Hope today runs smoothly his way too. You didn’t want to rub it in too much.

Yesterday’s meme had been about dating, something about the guy trying to flirt but being garbage at it and asking if she liked cheese. You didn’t agree that was like Seokjin though – you were gradually learning that he was incredibly modest – but it had made you laugh. Only Seokjin could send you lame memes and you’d find it adorable… You were possibly whipped.

Seokjin (8:01am) Good morning. [Image sent]

Today the meme was about lasagne, which made you question whether he was googling these every morning because no way had a lasagne meme popped up on his social media – if he used any at all. The realisation that he was searching for memes every day was even more endearing and your heart got a little gooey. You read the text on top of the image of lasagne. Dude, is that your new white shirt? Lemme just hop off this fork for a closer look. You genuinely laughed at that one, still wrapped up in your bed sheets. So incredibly lame, but equal levels funny.

Seokjin (8:01am) I will not be wearing white… I can’t wait to see you later. Just a reminder that I hope you omitted the garlic for tonight’s meal. I don’t want to embarrass myself by itching all night 😅😂

Immediately the smile dropped from your face and you shot forward, horror washing over you. Oh no. He was allergic to garlic. With the stress of perfecting the world’s best lasagne you’d totally forgotten. What were you going to do? Find a plain tomato sauce? Where the hell were you going to find one? Was that even a thing? You needed to leave now. Jumping out of bed you almost forgot to message Seokjin back. Looking at your phone again the image of the lasagne mocked you…

Two hours later you were back at home, in need of a sit down after you’d rushed around town looking for a pasta sauce that didn’t contain garlic (very hard, by the way.) The stress had aged you about ten years. Soojung of course found it highly hilarious.

“You’d have been in ER before 9pm,” she chortled, still in her pyjamas on the couch. She’d been still asleep when you’d dashed off, a woman on a lasagne mission.

You ignored her. It wouldn’t have been that bad, right? He said himself he’d only be itching… Clawing off his own skin was probably better than his throat closing up… maybe…

“How did you manage to forget?” She was still laughing. “AND you said you’d make a lasagne. Italian food always uses garlic. He must think you’re trying to kill him.” At this point you could hardly understand her, words blurring into one as she lost her shit.

“We went over this. I wasn’t in my right mind when I said I’d cook lasagne.”

She stopped her laugher immediately. “No way, you’re not blaming me again.”

“Ugh.” You sighed, suddenly remembering something. “I was going to make my homemade garlic bread.” Now that was a speciality of yours. This night was going to be a disaster.

“Skip the garlic,” Soojung suggested.

“So, just bread then.”

She tried her best not to laugh again, not wanting to make it worse. “Yum.”

It didn’t help.

What did help though, was making her clean the entirety of the downstairs of the house. As the day went on you started to get more and more nervous, which was silly, but you couldn’t help it. You realised that your place was a shoe box in comparison to his, what the hell were you thinking when you’d invited him here?! It needed to be spotless, to distract him from the fact you would be eating dinner in the same place you would be cooking it…

You knew there was no need to worry, it was just like last week when you’d grown self-conscious only to be fine once you’d set eyes on Seokjin. No doubt tonight would be just the same, he didn’t give a crap about stuff like that, so why would you even think he would? He’d probably be hurt if he knew… You just couldn’t help those little bubbles of insecurities from floating around inside your brain. You were a law unto yourself, and the garlic-less lasagne wasn’t helping. You’d had no time to prep for it. What if it tasted like cardboard?

“Lasagne is lasagne,” Soojung reassured you, in the kitchen as you got all the ingredients together. “It’s not going to taste gross just because there’s no garlic in it. Put it this way, at least you can kiss without needing to pop a mint.”

You whined, shaking your head, you couldn’t even dare thinking about kissing him right now. You’d spontaneously combust from anxiety.

“Should we clean your room too?” She asked, picking up the jar of pasta sauce absentmindedly. You’d already read the label approximately fifteen times, double checking it was indeed garlic-less.

“What? No,” you told her, voice all high-pitched. There would be no going upstairs besides from bathroom usage. “But hey,” you exclaimed, rounding on her with the spoon you were holding in your hand. “My room is always clean, bitch.”

She was the messy one.

Soojung left for Taehyung’s place at half 6, ready for Seokjin’s arrival at 7pm, a hug for good luck before you waved her off. You’d calmed greatly now, nothing like some table laying to ease some nerves. The lasagne was prepped and ready to oven cook, you had a fresh key lime pie in the fridge and you were dressed and presentable with ten minutes to spare. Wonderful.

The doorbell rung not long after you’d made your way downstairs and you were quickly finding out that Seokjin was a very punctual man. Opening the door to reveal him stood at the porch your heart instantly warmed, skipping a beat when he gave you a dazzling smile and a soft Hey. You felt a little weak at the knees. Nope, you were not ready for tonight.

In your tiny entryway he offered you a silver gift bag. “I didn’t know what to bring, so.” He said with a shrug as you pulled out a bottle of red wine.

“Oh, thank you, Seokjin.” You hadn’t been expecting him to bring anything at all. It was a lovely surprise.

“You probably have some waiting already. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” you reassured him. “We’ll use this one.” You were going to use a bottle of white wine you had laying around, nothing special at all. Red wine seemed better, fancier, maybe it would go better with the lasagne?

“Are you sure?” He asked. “I was gonna get you flowers but I didn’t want to freak you out or anything.”

You laughed. What was he going on about? “Why would that freak me out?”

His smile was crooked as he chuckled quietly. “I don’t know. I’m new to this, I thought they would’ve been too forward.”

You gave a small shrug, voice barely there when you replied. “I like flowers.”

He gazed at you, warm eyes softening as he stepped forward. “Next time.” He smiled. “Next time I’ll get you flowers.”

You swallowed fairly loudly, averting your gaze as you outstretched your arms. “Let me take you coat.” Was it hot in here? You felt a little stuffy.

He shrugged off the beige wool blend, revealing the tight fitting black shirt he had on underneath. It stretched over his shoulders, accentuating how broad they were, how hard his chest was and how much his waist curved inwards. The pants he was wearing didn’t help matters too. He looked effortlessly gorgeous, hair parted to the side, a piece curled above his left eye, softening the blow of his exposed forehead. You moved to hook his coat on the rack, realising you could’ve been gawping. Not that you could help it, the man was trying to kill you.

As you turned to face him again, he smiled. “You look really nice.” His voice was soft which just made it even more dangerous. “I think this may be the first time I’ve seen you in pants.”

“Really?” You wondered. You were partial to a dress in the summer, so he was probably right. You’d chosen a pair of black skinny jeans and a patterned chiffon blouse. Nothing too fancy, but he looked at you with awe-filled eyes. Unless you were imagining it. You cleared your throat. “You look good too.”

He stepped back, arms outstretched as he looked down at himself. “Thanks. No white.” He chuckled.

You forced yourself to laugh too, nerves creeping back just because of your stupid damn lasagne. “No white.”

Moving forward again he took your hand. It was warm and soft, just as you remembered from last week. Who cared about the lasagne when you were this close to him? When he was looking down at you with those brown, twinkly eyes? Not you anymore.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, Y/N.”

Oh.

You invited him inside the living room first, pouring him a small (and his only because he the car) glass of wine as you chit chatted for a few minutes. Sat next to him was RJ, who you’d taken from your bedroom to join you both for the night. He wanted to say Hi, had been your opening line and Seokjin had found it hilarious, cracking up instantly. Although his “I missed you buddy, how have you been?” went rudely ignored. Maybe the alpaca was nervous…

Ever the gentleman, he complimented you on the house, noting the décor with a fond eye. That surprised you, maybe he had played a part with the interior of his home. Well, you’d only seen the cosy family room – but it suited him very well. You knew there had been no need to be nervous when it came to inviting him into your home. There wasn’t a judging bone in Seokjin’s body.

You talked about your weeks, yours had been fine, but of course you left out all the stress over the lasagne. Seokjin’s week on the other hand had been quite demanding, but that was nothing new he told you with an accepting shake of his hand. He was used to it by now, but he had to admit tonight’s date had made it easier this time around. He was full of the charm, not that you were complaining…

Misook was babysitting Arin tonight, he told you when you asked how she was. It was his weekend this week, he and Nana took it in turns – when she didn’t cancel, he added as an afterthought – but he seemed a lot more relaxed talking about his ex-wife this time around seeing as last weekend she hadn’t broken any promises. He was happy if his daughter was happy, and that made you smile. You remembered Arin’s sorrowful face that day her mom had cancelled on her, so you were glad they’d found time to spend time together. You also remembered how irritated Seokjin had sounded when he was opening up to you on the bench at the school fate… You wondered just how often Nana cancelled plans, and couldn’t imagine how frustrating that was for both Arin and Seokjin… You hoped this marked the start of things being easier for them now.

Soon after that, you served him your starter (“garlic – wait, no I mean, no-garlic bread.”), and you chatted some more over that and while the lasagne baked. It was surprising how little you’d touched the sides on your first date, so tonight you covered even more bases. Family mainly. You told him about your half and step siblings, your parents’ remarriages of course coming up too. He seemed interested in that, wondering about your views on it and if it had affected you as you grew up. As a divorcee you understood the relevance to him and because he was so easy to talk to you found yourself opening up freely.

His parents were still married and Seokjin was the youngest out of their two sons, so it was quite unheard of for the second born to take over a family company. In fact, it was the first of its kind for his, which made it even harder for him. His older brother had been the rightful heir to LG Electronics but his passion had always been in culinary arts. His parents had been kind enough to let him follow his dreams, and thankfully, for Seokjin, that meant he could follow in his father’s footsteps. He’d been eager to prove himself but it had been hard in the beginning. His status as the youngest son meant that a lot of people set him up for failure, but with his family’s love and belief he’d managed to succeed and confirm himself as the rightful CEO. You didn’t doubt it. It seemed he’d worked hard to get where he was now. That was admirable.

The influx of information was so interesting to you and it didn’t feel real. While you could imagine Seokjin taking charge, visualising him in that tailored houndstooth suit he’d worn when you’d first met him, it was strange to think the smiley and soft-spoken man sat in front of you was from a long line of power and wealth. He should be untouchable, yet here you were able to reach for his hand across the table. Able to feel his forefinger stroking delicate patterns into your palm as you opened up and got to know one another more and more…

“So, if your family’s a big deal, what about things like arranged marriages? Are they still a thing?” You asked, maybe confusing fiction for fact.

Seokjin laughed at your wording. “They used to be, not so much anymore. I met my ex-wife through a friend. They concentrate less on things like that these days.” He shrugged, adding as an afterthought, “As a divorced CEO I think I’m a great example of that.”

That was true, you thought to yourself, wondering how the breakdown of his marriage had also played a part in the stress of his early years as CEO.

“I know it all sounds pretty crazy, but I like to think my family is just like anyone else’s.” He continued, smiling bashfully when you met his gaze. “That I’m just like anyone else.”

You wondered how many people had immediately judged him because of his status… You’d been one of them, right? Even if you hadn’t known any of the details, you’d written him off as some obnoxious, rich guy who flaunted his wealth… You felt guilty thinking back. He was the complete opposite.

You nodded in agreement before grinning. “I’d have liked to see what college Seokjin was like.”

“A complete nerd, to tell you the truth.”

He answered so seriously, you didn’t know how to react, and then he was laughing loudly, cracking up at himself. You couldn’t help but join in. That’s when your stove alarm went off, shrill and incessant, signalling the arrival of the dreaded lasagne…

It turned out he loved it though.

“This is amazing,” Seokjin praised, mouth still half full as he chewed. You did have to admit it was good. It tasted just like the original, despite the lack of garlic. Seokjin quirked an eyebrow, smirking your way. “So, how lucky am I to be able to try this World famous Italian lasagne?”

“Very lucky.” You kept your answer short. Hoping he’d just drop it.

He didn’t.

“How lucky?” He tried to pry from you. “How many people have tried it?”

You gave him a small smile, hovering your fork over the plate. Technically he was the third, but you couldn’t tell him that, could you? “I can’t disclose that.”

He emitted a short laugh. “What about the recipe? Care to share?”

You brushed him off with a soft chuckle. “A chef never tells her secrets.”

“Not even me?” His bottom lip jutted out as he looked across at you.

Your heart did a little dance. He was being unfair. “Don’t pout like that, it’s making me feel guilty.”

Thankfully the lasagne topic fizzled out after a couple more minutes, your cold sweat having time to dissipate while you chatted and ate together comfortably. However a few minutes later you noticed Seokjin fidgeting slightly in his seat. You politely ignored it to begin with, unsure if you were just imagining it, but then he started itching the back of his neck. You put your fork down, a sick feeling washing over you. “Is anything wrong?” You asked, now watching him itch up his forearm. “Seokjin?”

He looked at you in mild confusion, eyebrows creasing together as he opened his mouth. “Are you sure there wasn’t any garlic in this?”

You swallowed away the panic racing up your throat. “I’m sure.” You’d read the back of that jar and then read it some more. “I’m positive.”

… Weren’t you? You watched him scoot his chair back, leaning down to start scratching the back of his calves. He made noises of discomfort as he did so.

“Oh, no…” You were up before you could stop yourself, racing around him to start hunting in the recycling for the glass jar.

“Wait, where are you going?”

You could hear Seokjin’s voice behind you, sounding alarmed, but you were too panicked to really take it in. You needed to be sure. This was just your second date, you couldn’t ruin things already. Turning him into one giant itchy red blob had not been your intention.

“I was only teasing you.” Still, his words didn’t sink in. That was until you felt a hand on your elbow, tugging gently for your attention.

You spun around, worried eyes wide – even wider when you found him so close. He was on his feet too, bent a little to level with you, pretty much within kissing distance. His voice was soft when he spoke, you found yourself distracted by his mouth. “Y/N, I was just messing around.”

You blinked, not truly understanding with all those annoying distractions zooming around your mind, but slowly you pieced his words together. Oh. Despite the relief you felt, now you just felt silly. Plus, he was still so close to you…

You took a step back, the small of your back pressing up against the counter. You needed a clear head. “Don’t freak me out like that.” You told him, but you still sighed in relief, hand against your chest. “I thought I’d poisoned you.”

He looked a little concerned, but you could tell by his eyes he found your reaction amusing. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”

“Make me laugh? You nearly gave me heart failure.” However, you gave him what he wanted, a laugh that sounded weak and shaky, but it was something – you did see the funny side.

He joined you, shoulders relaxing now that he knew you were okay. He looked behind you, eyes on the trashcan, a bemused smile on his face. “What were you looking for anyway?”

“The jar.” You answered, as if it wasn’t obvious. You turned, deciding to fish it out anyway. Holding it up to him, you were adamant. “See, no garlic. Check.”

He chuckled. “I already said I was joking.” He took one look at your desperate expression and gave in, taking the jar from your hand. “But if it makes you feel better…” You watched him as he read the label, silently soaking in his handsome features. He looked softer tonight, the curve of his jaw rounding as he smiled. It took you a moment to realise he was done. He handed the jar back to you, and you prayed to God he hadn’t caught you staring at him all gooey-eyed. “It’s fine.” He confirmed. “I’ll be itch free tonight.”

You smiled and plopped the glass back inside the can. “I looked around town for hour trying to find lasagne sauce sans garlic.”

He looked guilty. “I’m sorry for being awkward.” Then he paused, eyes narrowing, the hint of a smirk itching at the corners of his mouth. “But… Y/N, are you a fraud?” Huh? What did he mean? You didn’t need to wait long for an explanation. “I thought a certified chef would cook up a batch of her own tomato sauce.”

Oh. You’d gone and put your foot in it, hadn’t you? It was probably time to explain yourself… “I have a confession,” you began, sounding wary. Seokjin looked interested albeit it mildly confused. “I… may have told a little white lie.”

He shook his head, a puff of laughter leaving him. “You’ve lost me.”

You took a deep breath, knowing you were going to have to spell it out for him. “I’ve never made lasagne before. Ever. In my entire life.”

He looked confused as silence spread out between you. He sounded it too when he spoke again. “Then why did you say it was your speciality?”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands for one dramatic moment. “I panicked.” Peeking at him, you babbled on. “I know it sounds stupid but Soojung was curtain twitching and it was stressing me out and then you were asking me what I cooked and lasagne just popped into my head!”

Seokjin blinked, his mouth twitched and then he was laughing – loudly.

“You find it funny?” You asked, relaxing a tad.

“Very.” He laughed harder but seeing the look of bafflement on your face he tried is best to still it.

“I’ve been practicing it like crazy,” you whined, happy you could finally tell him all about your lasagne struggles. “This is my fourth time eating it this week. Soojung nearly killed me.” You snorted at the memory. This started up Seokjin again. “And then I forgot you were allergic to garlic. Your text reminded me this morning and I had to rush out to the grocery store.”

He was weak at the knees at that, and you were laughing just because he was. It was contagious. “Stop,” you wailed, attempting to get a hold of yourself. This week had actually been quite traumatic. “I’m glad you find it funny, I’ve been in constant stress ever since you drove off last week.”

“I can’t help it.” He chuckled, although he did sound apologetic. “You’re just so adorable.” The air that settled around his effortless admission made your skin prickle. When he carried on, his tone was gentle. “You know I wouldn’t have minded if you changed the menu to something else, right?”

You pouted ever so slightly. “But you were looking forward to it.”

He gave a small shrug. “True, but… that was more so code for ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you again.’ The food was just a bonus. I’d be happy with a Big Mac.”

You felt your cheeks burn and you tried to shake yourself out of it. “So embarrassing,” you murmured. You didn’t know what for… The lasagne mess or the fact he could have this much of an effect of you? You were inclined to go with the latter.

“What about the no-garlic bread?” Seokjin asked, changing the subject a little. Maybe he’d sensed your embarrassment and didn’t want to make it worse. He was sweet. “Did you make that?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Well, I didn’t bake the bread. I just toasted it.” It was still a speciality of yours though. “It would’ve been much tastier with the garlic.”

He gave you an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that. This body wants to turn me into a miserable old man.”

Pfft. Old? Miserable? He was anything but.

“Sit,” he prompted you, smiling as he motioned with his head to the table. “Finish your World famous Italian lasagne before it grows cold.”

As you moved he delicately cupped his hand around the curve your waist, giving it a soft squeeze before he got to his chair first. Your stomach flipped, head dizzy as you sat and tucked your chair in. Last Saturday popped into your head, the way you’d loosely held hands outside and how you were sure he’d been leaning in to kiss you – properly.

You knew one thing. You really wanted to kiss him tonight.

Trying to get a hold of yourself, you glanced at him, catching his eyes. He was already tucking in again, and he grinned bashfully, as if embarrassed. “This really is great. All that practice paid off.” A pause. “You should show me how you cooked it sometime.”

Your face lit up in surprise. “You cook?” In the back of your mind you were aware that he’d probably been hinting for a third date, but you were so shocked by the possibly of Seokjin cooking you couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

He chuckled quietly. “I mean, when I have time and can be bothered. I like cooking but it’s just easier to go to a restaurant or get it delivered.” He looked sheepish before adding, “Or Misook does it for me.”

There was no shame when it came to that. Seokjin probably worked all hours of the day, no one could expect him to tie on an apron when he got home and start pulling out pots and pans.

“Do you cook a lot?” He asked.

You nodded. “Soojung and I take it in turns.”

“So what is your speciality?” He smiled.

This time around you were in your right mind and able to answer properly. “Veggie tacos.”

He raised his eyebrows, impressed. Then he tried again. “Can you make them for me sometime?”

He was persistent, you’d give him that. You shrugged, trying your best to sound impassive but the little smirk gave it away. “Maybe if you say please…”

He laughed, leaning forward, a hand clasping yours as he tilted his head. The piece of curled hair falling into his left eye. “Please?”

Your heart did another little dance inside your chest.

After dessert you both made your way back to the living room, settling on your couch with two pomegranate mocktails Taehyung had prepared for you yesterday. All you had to do was add the pomegranate juice and lemonade to the ice cubes and crushed lime segments and mint before serving, easy-peasy. Seokjin was highly impressed, but of course you couldn’t take the credit. It was all down to your best friend’s very helpful barman boyfriend.

You were glad Seokjin wanted to stay as you didn’t want the night to be over yet. It had flown by so fast and you’d had so much fun. You already felt like you knew him better, even after only two dates. It was strange to you, how you could feel so relaxed in a stranger’s company, but then again, you guessed he wasn’t a stranger anymore… Plus, he was so easy to talk to, so interesting to get to know…. Everything between you two came easy.

Like opening up to him, being a bit more vulnerable…

“I’ve been slightly nervous all week,” you admitted, clutching your drink to you before chuckling softly. “– and not just about the lasagne faux pas…”

“There was no need to be nervous. I thought we left all that behind on the first date,” Seokjin reassured, smiling warmly your way.

You were sat together, turned to face one another. It was intimate and cosy. He had one leg lifted, the ankle resting on the knee of the other leg, and where his pants had ridden up, you could see an inch or so of his calf before it met the black cotton of his sock. For some reason, you found that very, very sexy. Maybe you had been single for far too long.

“We did,” you agreed, hesitating slightly. “It’s just… I haven’t done anything like this in so long.”

You didn’t even think you’d ever invited someone around for dinner before. You were still quite young when you found yourself in a relationship with Donghae so your dates before him had been very basic. Your dates with him hadn’t really classed as such just because you became official fairly quickly, and your dates after him, well, it was already known that they had been few and far between.

“You already know we’re in the same boat,” he smiled before chuckling bashfully. “No, but really, when I asked you for dinner that day at the fate I was expecting you to turn me down.”

“How come?”

He looked down at his drink, lifting a shoulder. “I thought you’d think that I was crossing a line… or maybe the spark I was feeling was all in my head and in reality you just found me really annoying.”

That was cute. He’d been doubting himself. Human after all. Not that you’d ever thought he wasn’t. You still didn’t miss the opportunity to joke around though. “I mean, both can exist simultaneously.” He taking a sip of his mocktail when you replied so he ended up snorting into his glass, amused by your wit.

A moment or so passed and Seokjin gazed at you, smiling softly. If he kept this up, you’d be a puddle on your parquet flooring. “So, tell me,” he hummed. “How did I luck out so good?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering what he meant. “How come an amazing person like you isn’t married or in a relationship?”

He must’ve seen the slight shock on your face and panicked instantly. “Is that a weird thing to ask? I feel like it is. I apologise.”

“No,” you insisted, sitting up a little straighter. He followed. “No, it’s not.” You wanted to open up to him. You really did. You just didn’t know where to start. Although, it was pretty simple. “I’ve been single for a while.”

“How long?” Seokjin was instantly focused, attentive, noticing the change in your body language.

“Three years. My last relationship didn’t end very well.” You paused, wondering if you should continue. But then… It had been a massive part of your life. No matter how much time had passed and no matter how okay you were now, it had still happened. And Seokjin, he had trusted you enough to open up about his divorce – even before you’d gone on your first date. You wanted to talk about it. You really did.

“I found out my fiancé was cheating on me.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened, unable to cloak his surprise. He hadn’t been expecting that. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely.

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “It was rough getting over it. Took me a while, but it is what it is. It’s in the past now.”

“Did it put you off dating?”

You were pleasantly surprised to find it was actually easy to talk to Seokjin about this. Your mouth was opening before you had to think about it. “I mean, at first. I was still very much in love with him, even after he broke my heart. But I got over him and I started dating again – briefly – It just didn’t feel right.” You stopped to smile. “It’s been over a year and I can’t say I missed it… but you…” Nerves growing, you pushed them away. “You’ve changed that. I’m having fun.”

Seokjin’s face lit up and he chuckled. “I did hit second date status after all.”

“You did…”

“So,” he leaned closer, a small smirk on his face. “You could say, hitting your car that day wasn’t actually my fault because it was supposed to happen.”

You snorted as you laughed, head falling against the back of the couch. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He made a sound. “But we wouldn’t have met otherwise.”

“We would!” You exclaimed. “The parent-teacher meeting.”

He blinked, feeling dumb. “Oh, yeah.”

It wouldn’t have had the same effect, granted, but you would have become acquainted with one another regardless. “Would you have still liked me?” You asked without thinking, surprising yourself.

“Yes,” he replied immediately. “I was instantly attracted to you after all, it’s just…” Instantly attracted? Definitely a charmer... “There would’ve been no way for me to get to know you like I did.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re really adamant that you had to reverse into my car to make this work, huh.”

He shrugged casually. “It was the only way.”

You laughed quietly, finishing the last of your drink. Time was getting on, it was pretty late, Seokjin had already finished his, you watched him sit up to lean forward and place the glass on your coffee table. His shirt tightened across his shoulder blades and you could see his back muscles as he stretched. Oh.

Settling back into the same position, he looked over at you and grinned. His teeth were perfect. Did this man have zero flaws? Why were you so whipped? It was embarrassing.

“I had fun tonight,” you told him, trying to keep a lid on whatever was going on with you right now.

He seemed pleased with that, nodding his head. “I’m happy to hear that you think I’m a fun person.”

You scoffed, body falling closer to his. Your shoulders brushed together. Seokjin didn’t take his eyes off you. “Hm. I don’t think I said that.”

“Hey, don’t be so mean.” He murmured, one side of his mouth quirking up.

Like you couldn’t stop yourself, your hand reached for the collar of shirt. He had the top two buttons loose and your pinkie finger brushed against his collarbone. Sparks flew, but you tried to ignore them. “I thought you liked it when I was mean.” You teased, voice low.

Seokjin hummed, his eyes still twinkled like they always did but there was something else to them, a depth that made you feel funny. He sunk closer to you. So close you could study the thick curve of his eyelashes, notice that both his eyelids were different. He really did have beautiful eyes. You could stare at them forever.

Preoccupied, you slowly realised that he was watching you too, studying your features in the golden glow of the floor lamp that hovered over the couch. His lips parted, you heard them rather than saw it, but then your attention was on them again. Just like it had been earlier on in the night. He was staring at yours too as he spoke. “I wanted to kiss you last week.”

You heartbeat quickened but you tried to keep cool. “You did kiss me.” You laughed.

He sighed. “On the cheek.”

You lightly tugged his collar, fingertips now brushing the skin of his chest. “Isn’t that what you said you wanted to do?”

You could feel his own heartbeat against your forearm that was pressed into him. It was definitely running a little faster than it was supposed to – stronger. “Yes, but…” He glanced up to your eyes. “I was just being polite. I wanted to kiss your lips.”

It felt like you were holding your breath. Maybe you were, you just couldn’t think straight. Time seemed to stretch out, but you knew what you wanted. So you went after it. Giving him a small smile, you replied. “Maybe I wanted that too.”

He swallowed, voice so low now it was barely a murmur. “Is that an invitation?” His eyes bounced to your lips again, then back to your eyes as he asked permission. “Can I kiss you?”

You ever so slightly dragged your bottom lip beneath your teeth as you nodded, breath catching in your throat as Seokjin leaned forward and closed the distance between you. The hand in between your bodies moved to delicately hold the wrist of your arm against his chest, holding you there as his other hand reached for your jaw, angling your face to press a kiss to your mouth. His eyes were already closed so you followed.

He hummed at the contact, his lips soft and warm and you let yourself sink. His actions were light at first, faint as he kept constant pressure, as if he was familiarising himself with the sensation. You couldn’t even let yourself think about how this was the first kiss you’d shared with someone for a very long time. All that was going through your mind was how good it felt to be touched like this by him.

He readjusted the hand on your face, tucking some hair behind your ear to cup your cheek. You liked that. You liked it when he touched you, and he eased from your mouth completely before coming back with a firmer pressure. It was your turn to make a sound; a tiny gasp as your lips began to move together ever so slowly. He liked that, a hum of satisfaction vibrating against the soft skin of your lips. You clutched at his shirt, gathering the crisp cotton in your fist, that would surely turn it creased, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was too preoccupied with reaching for the glass you’d forgotten was hugged to your body by your free hand.

He unclasped it from your fingers and had no choice but to break away from your mouth to put it next to his on the coffee table. You whined, attempting to tug him back to you, and he chuckled, taking a hold of one of your hands. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, leaning forward to place the cocktail glass down.

And he was.

This time he used both of his hands to grasp your face and dive back in. He was more confident this time, moving in such a way his lips pried yours open. You reached for his shoulders, grasping them to hold him closer and this time you both made noises – sweet, quiet ones that worked beautiful together as your lips moulded with gradual urgency.

When your hands found the nape of his neck, fingers through his hair, he had to drag the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking entry. You met it with yours, tasting hints of pomegranate and lime with each wash of tongue. A hand of his slipped down to your side, stroking up and down the curve as if he couldn’t help but to touch you. He settled at your hip after a moment, the other splayed against the side of your neck, his thumb rolling small circles under your cheekbone.

This was getting addictive. You could tell by the way you moaned softly against each warm, wet curl of his tongue. This was everything you’d imagined and more – because you had imagined it. Late and secretly at night when you were trying to drift off to sleep and thoughts of lasagne were banished… You were glad your first kiss was here, inside, on your couch, because this wasn’t something for the open, your knees wouldn’t have been able to hold you up.

You could have kissed him forever, you mean, you definitely didn’t want it to stop but you pretty much had to. Breathing was a necessity, right? If you couldn’t breathe you wouldn’t be able to ever kiss Seokjin again and that would be absolutely awful…

You did it the right way though – gradually. Seokjin slowed it right down, only hints of his tongue left as he hummed indulgently, like he was savouring your taste before he had to inevitably pull away. It made your insides jump around like crazy, hearing him enjoying himself, and you tried your best to come to when he started easing the pressure of his lips, pressing small, chaste kisses to them instead as you ultimately (but slowly) broke apart.

You opened your eyes, blinking up at him, hands falling from his hair, aware you had become one with your cushions. You struggled to free yourself as he sat back and you watched him smile fondly at you. His breath was shaky – so was yours, and you were sure his hands trembled slightly as one reached up to scratch the back of his neck. His neck that was blotched with red, flushed, travelling to his cheeks. They were rosier than you’d ever seen them before. Your gut stirred.

“I’ve been dreaming of that,” he told you, before making a face at himself. “Too cringey?”

You giggled – it sounded foreign. “Just a bit.” But didn’t deter the fact you loved it.

You warmed when you felt him squeeze your hip, realising his hand was still there and you reached for it, tangling your fingers with his. He pulled them to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly. His expression was thoughtful when he lowered your hands. “In all seriousness, thank you for giving me a chance, after well, you know, everything.”

You smiled, touched by his earnestness, but it was hard to keep a sane mind when his lips were as kiss bitten as they were – deep pink and glistening. You wanted to kiss his face off.

“It’s no problem,” you quipped, as if you were doing him a favour.

He chuckled tenderly, and luckily for you he was unable to stop himself from kissing you again. He reached forward, hooking a finger under your chin to press his mouth to yours softly. “I’d really love if we could keep on doing… this.” He murmured.

“The dating or the kissing,” you grinned, stealing another kiss in the process.

“Hm,” he contemplated. “Both preferably.”

And then you were on one another again, eager once more.

Although, you did manage to pull away briefly to tell him something, his mouth moving to the side of your face to kiss there instead as your hands dragged down his back. You were somehow able to get the words out – ones that made him laugh against your wet jaw.

“I’m so glad you hit my car.”

Written 2020 - 2021. Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2021

#seokjn fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #floralseokjin:writings #fic:mls

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thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness · 3 years

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Toshiya’s Creativity Vol 7: Looking back at Life This time, as Toshiya’s birthday is getting closer, we asked him to look back on his life. From his childhood to boyhood in Nagano and moving to Tokyo after his awakening to music. And the present. Memories, present and future…. Blessed with good weather, we did this interview in a localisation where you could feel the arrival of spring. “For me, music is the most stimulating thing. It was a way to escape from reality” “I think it’s a miracle I met these 4 people.” “When you are standing on stage in front of the audience, you should be a special person that nobody can’t replace”

Notes before reading: This is from ‘Toshiya’s creativity’, the serialization done by Ster Edge Magazine and later compiled into a book with the same name. This is Vol 07 (Ster Edge 006) , which was published in March 2018. Originally, I planned to post this for Toshiya’s birthday but....life. Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated :)

------ 2017 marked the 20th anniversary of the formation of DIR EN GREY. Toshiya also had the opportunity to look back on the history of the band at various locations. This time, we asked him to look back on his ‘life’ just before his birthday on March 31st. How did he feel at that time? What did he realize at that moment and what does he think now? It was an interview that gave us a glimpse of his enigmatic way of thinking and a part his feelings. Toshiya is from Nagano prefecture. He says the environment in which he grew up was "a normal countryside one” in “a normal family”. In our previous talk with Hide TANAKA, a flower designer who is a childhood friend of Toshiya, which was published in "Toshiya's Creativity Vol6", he talked about his childhood, but we will explore this further, in a bit more personal way. When he was asked about his oldest memory, he folded his arms, thought for a moment, and then opened his mouth. “This memory comes quickly to my mind. There was something like an agricultural cooperative bazaar/rummage sale being held near my grandparent's house, and I think they took me to it. I was very impressed by a child of the same age as me at that time who was lost and crying alone. So, I remember holding my grandpa and grandma's hands tightly and saying, ‘Don’t lose me!’ (laughs).” His grandparents' home and his home were close, so he often went out with his grandparents from an early age. “I was close to my grandfather and my grandmother. I remember I was the type of child loved by the elderly. I’m still quite in contact with my family and relatives, we have a good relationship. But it wasn't something special, it was normal for me at the time. My hometown is a normal countryside town, where nothing is like this city, it feels like there are only mountains and rice fields. I also liked drawing at home and playing outside. I was playing like a normal country child would do.” Young Toshiya seems to have grown up in the nature of Nagano. It seems his parents also respected the things he wanted to do. “I was in a sports boys' team, a baseball team, and I practised kendo. I feel like I certainly did what I wanted. I liked physical activities. I wasn’t strong or weak at sports, after all I was normal (laughs). My parents taught me soroban (Japanese abacus), and in junior high school I attended a cram school. I think I got a textbook to study English through radio lessons. I just pretended to play the abacus, and I wasn't good at it at all (laughs). " Toshiya was a boy who was devoted to sports. He talked to Hide about playing the guitar when he was young, but was he interested in music and instruments at that time? “No, no at all. My mother's brother used to play the guitar and I was just using that guitar as a toy instead. More than playing, I was killing time. It felt like that. At that time, I had no dreams for the future. When I was told to write about my dream for the future, I just wrote ‘be a salary man, like my father’. I think that was the safest choice (laughs). The children of my class said ‘I want to be a police officer’ or ‘I want to be a pilot’, but I wasn't interested in what I wanted to do in the future at all.” He said ‘normal’ many times while talking about himself in the past but while listening to his talk, he didn't feel like that for some reason, he had a mysterious aura since he was a boy. He said the thing that young Toshiya was more interested in was ‘wild ideas/fantasies’. “I think it was like that in the past. Didn’t you have any ‘wild idea’ /fantasy on your way to school or coming back from it? I liked that kind of thing. As I liked Gundam, I thought ‘I want to ride one’. Sometimes I went home with my friends, but more often I went home alone. It was about a 30-minute walk from my house to school, so it was days of spending all that time doing that (laughs).” Perhaps he was a boy who had his own world and the strength to be alone. “No, no, I didn't think deeply about that. I never felt scared to be alone…. the reason I went home alone was it was easier for me to go home alone (laughs). I'm older than my siblings, so I grow up as an only child for a while. That’s why it was normal for me to be alone. Most of the boys and girls I played with were older kids who lived near my house” Toshiya, an elementary school boy who often played with older boys and girls who lived in the neighbourhood, gradually got more chances to listen to popular songs at his senpais' homes. Boøwy was the catalyst for him to have an instrument. “Boøwy was a cool band that older seniors listened to. When I got into middle school, there were about one or two people in the class who liked Western music. When I became friends with those guys, I was told ‘You are still listening to Japanese music?’ (laughs). From that moment, I started to dig deeper into Western music.” Then, that Toshiya in middle school becomes more and more absorbed in music. It was around this time that he started to have in his mind that he wanted to play an instrument. “Besides Boøwy and X…..From overseas… I listened to Van Halen. Then, bands like Europe, Guns N'Roses,Bon jovi….. as it was the golden age of LA metal (glam metal), I liked that kind of stuff. I listened to the X’s single ‘Kurenai’ at home. That song starts with a ballad-like part, and then it gets fierce at once, but when I was playing it at first, I could hardly hear any sound. I still remember that suddenly it made a loud noise when I turned up the volume, I was surprised and desperately turned down the volume (laughs). " As Toshiya told us this funny incident, for sure there are many people who had a similar experience. What elements of these bands inspired Toshiya in middle school? "The music was exciting, but the fashion and performance were shocking ... Every band was very unrealistic. It seems that I was taken to a different world at that time. The feelings were very strong. Since TV was the only way to collect information, I think the influence from TV on me was huge.” He has been absorbed in band activities since high school. The first thing he got in his hands was a guitar, not a bass. He doesn't have get the chance to play the guitar on stage right now, but he uses the guitar to make songs. "After all, I started playing the guitar because I admired some guitarists, but I thought 'It's difficult to play with 6 strings. It's a little easier with 4 strings.' After all, I thought it would be easier if there aren’t many chords to hold down. Also, I thought the bass was in a position that didn’t stand out much compared to other instruments, so I thought it would be interesting because that means there were many interesting possibilities about playing” Toshiya, who liked drawing since childhood, went to an art school while being in a band, after graduating from high school. Although he is good at drawing, he eventually chose the musical path. “I didn't want to get a job after graduating from high school, but I didn’t want to study something either. However, I liked drawing, so I asked my parents to attend an art school. At school, the places where the people who graduated there got a job are displayed at the corridor, isn’t it? I was looking at that and I thought ‘Ah? I don't think many people can get a job in the world of drawing’. I don’t think there are many jobs available when it comes to drawing. I thought ‘I like drawing but as this is more a hobby than a job, there is no point in spending money to study it. I’m going to spend my time doing what I like’. After all, I left the art school in about a year. After all, you only live once, and I may regret not doing what I want to do…..That's why I decided to go on the path of music for real. Music is the most stimulating thing for me. Making music was fun and I think it was a bit an escape from reality. I could be a different person than the one I was in my daily life….I wonder if these ‘extraordinary things’ became an stimulus for me.” Immediately after that, Toshiya goes to Tokyo to be fully into band activities as a band man. An era in which the Internet is hardly widespread it was important to move to make his own path. He took action and met various people. “When I went to Tokyo, I met and talked with several people. I was told often that ‘those who move out their hometowns had already won’. I thought there was no chance if I stayed in the countryside and I started doing band activities quietly. There may be various risks and scary feelings, but if you really want a chance, you have to go to the place where there is information. Of course, I think that taking no action is also one of the options. There may be a way to improve your skills locally, or you can go out to the city to seize opportunities, and I think it's up to you to decide which one to choose. I met the members (of DIR EN GREY) in Tokyo, so I think I wouldn't have been in this band if I hadn't come to Tokyo. " "I think it was a miracle that I could meet the other 4 members” Toshiya, who met Kyo,Kaoru, Die, and Shinya, moved to Kansai and started band activities there . In 1997, DIR EN GREY was formed. They made their national debut in 1998, and made his major debut in 1999 with the release of the singles "Akuro no Oka", "ZAN-" and "Yurameki". He thought ‘Because I only have one life, I may regret not doing what I want to do’, and took action. About three years later, Toshiya's life changed. "I think most people in the music world are like that…..At that time, I didn't know what I was doing, but I was confident. I think it's a little scary when I think about my confident at that time. I had such a simple idea that in a way or another, we were going to make it. That's why I didn't think anything strange, the biggest thing was that I didn't have any strange fear. As I grew up, I started to think about things I hadn't thought of before. I was getting more and more involved with people, but I didn’t have that kind of thing when I was young. I think that was the biggest driving force. When I look back on it now, I feel envious of that feeling that nothing was going to stop me.” It was a brilliant and sensational success. It was probably the tremendous power of these five people that attracted that success, which the appropriate world to describe it would be “comet”. A comet that seen from a distance was very beautiful but, how did DIR EN GREY feel about it, being the comet themselves? “We didn’t fully understand the situation we were in. There was a strong feeling we were getting into a world we didn’t know. We were an active part of that, but it felt like we were outsiders. At that time, music had a stimulating sense of unreality but also the fear that it became real started to spring up. At that time, it felt like that many times. DIR EN GREY was called the “last boom” of the scene we were in and I think we were lucky. There was also a part of us that tried to not be absorbed by that boom” DIR EN GREY’s activities have been very creative since then. From this formation until their debut, the band didn’t lose their spirits and kept their aggressive stance. Continuing to present things with a strong emphasis in musicality and fashion making a distinction in the middle of that ‘boom’, they built a unshakeable fortress called DIR EN GREY. “At that time, various media such as TV and magazines talked to us, but we tried not to go in that direction. I was influenced by TV in terms of knowing music, but when it comes to my own work, I didn’t think about becoming the kind of musician that appears on TV. Of course, I thought it would be the best if we got TV exposure but…..at some point, there were things that cold me off. ‘This boom won’t last forever’, it’s easy to get on that boom, but once the boom is over, it’s gone. At that time, I might not have thought so much about it, but I instinctively felt that it was dangerous to get into that boom” It’s not just Toshiya, all DIR EN GREY members agreed. “Sometimes thanks to the boom and the media, they (the listeners) get to know about you. I think it’s the best way to get people know about you but, I also think it’s really dangerous. I think there were some people who succumbed to that kind of excitement. We were cautious because we were the only ones who could protect ourselves, no one else would protect us.” Because DIR EN GREY decided that it was dangerous to get drawn by that boom, they were able to pursue the music and expressions they wanted to do in a deeper way. A different strength from that boom. “That’s right…. We didn’t really understand what happened, we couldn’t say ‘ we did this so this happened after’, there were moments we relied on ourselves, but there were also moments that we relied on others. I guess that balance was good. However, we tried to not get into that wave of popularity as much as possible” DIR EN GREY continued to run ahead of the boom without appearing in the mainstream media, toured Asia in 2002, achieving the first overseas expansion. Due to changes in music aspects, the attention they got from overseas increased and in 2005, they performed in Berlin, marking their first solo concert in Europe. From there, they started to held live performances around the world. Their music spread to the world in proportion to the rise of the Internet. Their journey was so innovative in the music scene that many artists used them as their role model. Should it be called ‘a miracle’ caused by a natural sense of balance? “I think this (the overseas expansion) was something rare for us. ‘Something like this is what we want’, ‘It would be good if you could show this or that’……we were told these kind of things so maybe it (a miracle) happened. First of all, I think it’s a miracle I met these 4 people.” Toshiya said this a little shy smile. There aren't many bands that have been so active for 20 years without changing members or stopping their activities. It's a miracle. “Because it’s an aspect that you can’t control…the things you do and the people you meet. I think it’s a miracle in that sense as well.” After 20 years, there were changes as an individual person, and there were changes in the way they interact with music. He says it's not just about music, ‘No matter what you do, if you make a mistake, you're done’, he adds. “Everyone calls me an 'artist', but I don't feel like one. The easiest thing to say would be ‘free person’ (laughs). As I don’t have the experience of a normal working life, waking up at the same time on weekdays mornings, getting on the same train every day, rather than an artist, I would say I’m a free person. However, if there is a misunderstanding, I come to think of myself as ‘someone special’ who can’t live a normal life. It’s dangerous and scary. But humans are creatures that make mistakes (laughs).” Is it his way of saying that there was a “misunderstanding” in the past? “Well, there is. I made mistakes. That's why I'm scared. At the time of the debut, the number of adults I didn’t know increased around me. No matter what you do, many people was moving. That became something common. But that many people come, means that many people also leave…. Shortly after my debut, a friend from Nagano told me two things. One was ‘it’s good you can do what you like’, and the other was ‘Did you start a band to be admired/ to be pampered?’ Those words were quite a big deal for me. I thought I couldn't stay that way, so I had to change my way of thinking a little more. The words this person told me made me feel sad but then I said ‘Isn’t it good? Why you don’t try to do your best too?’ (laughs).” Toshiya laughs and says ‘I want to be a person with an ordinary consciousness’. His way of talking and manners are soft, giving an impression that he is a person who has nothing to do with the word ‘rude’. “In my teens, my senpais were unconventional and I admired a lot their messy behaviour but unfortunately, times are very different now. When we were children, we thought about what to buy and how to use the money we received for New Year's but nowadays children seem to save money. It might be good to do something unconventional and have a dream in such a conservative era, but I'm not that age anymore. Now, if I do something like that, I’d be in a difficult position (laughs). That’s why being a person with an ordinary consciousness would be the ideal”. “When you stand on stage in front of the audience, you should be a special person that nobody can’t replace” When you ask him about music activity, the talk extends to other topics that are not limited to music. The concept of the brand 'DIRT 100% Natural Dirty' produced by him is 'unisex real clothes that can be worn in a wide range of occasions from casual to formal’, the design not only affects the clothes but also the spaces that surround your daily life. Toshiya proposes and produce unique and original clothes for daily life. The fact that the words ‘life’ and ‘everyday’ are included means that for Toshiya, as music, his brand production and life are something that flows together, not something that can be separate from each other. “There isn’t really a distinction. But both, music and brand production, I can’t call them ‘work’. Of course I can’t remove the business part of it but I don’t think it’s work. This interview is also part of my job, that’s why I’m definitely switched on my ‘business mode’. If you like something in a pure way, you shouldn’t make a business of it. Of course, I make music and produce clothes because I like it, but the truth is that you can’t just do something because you like it. That’s why I think I have to do it. For example, of course I would say ‘I want to do this’ to the company but saying NO to everything that the company suggests, like ‘I want you to do this, I think it’s just selfish. If I’m allowed to do what I want to do, then I have to do also what the company wants me to do, otherwise, it won’t work. If you just want to do whatever you want, it would be like ‘why don't you do it by yourself? I think I'm doing it with several people because I can't do it alone.” It might be because of this that the band DIR EN GREY continue to be active with the same members. It’s only because they have their own opinions but also they have the capacity to listen and absorb other people’s opinions. “I have a firm ideal within myself. However, there are times you will realize things listening to other people’s opinions and absorbing them. When you have a talk with several people that are experts in something, new opinions that I didn’t know before are born. I often think that it’s like the scales fall from my eyes, and it leads to new discoveries. There might be a reason why we don’t aim to “do things by ourselves’. It's not that music and brands can't be done alone…. I feel that if I go alone, I might make a mistake. Going back to I said before, if you think of yourself as 'special', I think it's not going to go in the right direction….But it's an exception when you stand on stage in front of the audience. , you should be a special person that nobody can’t replace” No matter how good a person is, they may stop at some point. Toshiya was no exception. However, he says with confident ‘I still have many things that I want to do’. “I've often thought ‘this is my limit’. I have thought many times ‘I don't have any ideas, I don't like it, it's hard’..... But then, I’ve always come up with ideas and images such as "I want to do something like that" or "Let's do something like this". I've been doing something like that all the time….I think my desire for expression will never run out. I don't think things can be made from scratch. Everything is imitation of something, an arrangement of something….I think that’s the trigger for the ramification of creation. In your daily life, you can see various things and various things will happen, so I hope to reflect in my work what is happening at that moment.” Will Toshiya reach a turning point in his life soon? In the last talk, he wondered if he would become an adult when he is 50 or 60 years old. He also said he wanted to be 50 or 60 years old soon. He set his mind on the idea of ‘You only have one life, if you don’t do the things that you want, you’ll regret it’. Until now, he has devoted his life to the band so is he satisfied with that or is there any regrets? “It’s half satisfaction, half regrets (laughs). I think I have more regrets, though. When I was in elementary school I thought that at my age I would be living in my hometown, I’d be married and would have kids…’I wish I had done that at that time’….’I didn’t do that’….things like that, if I start mentioning them, there would be no end. But you can’t do anything about the things you didn’t do, I think the perception will change if you look at it with regrets or as a reflection. Sayingt that ‘I could become an adult once I’m 50 or 60 years old” means I entrusted to my future self, things I can’t do now. It’s a way of escapism, though(laughs). I feel like the things I can’t do now will be easier in the future and the range of the things I’ll be able to do will be wider. I will pursue forever the person I aspired to become when I was a child. I think it’s a human thing to do that.” Toshiya’s voice “I requested this photoshoot to take place somewhere near the sea. Since my birthday was closer, I did an interview looking back on my life. If anything, it felt like the interview was important. As we went to Odaiba, the travel time was longer. The talk about the Olimpics in the car was exciting.

#dir en grey #toshiya #translation #toshiyatranslations

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

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Me and You Together

A/N: Hello! I would like to say first of all that ^ is not my gif. I had it saved on my computer from somewhere and it just felt perfect for this. I do love my little sweet pea and frat boy Harry, but I also feel like I’ve done them dirty in this fic. I wanted to add more angst, but we all know I’m shit at that kind of stuff bc I’m soft at heart. Anywho, I really hope that you enjoy this and I just want to thank the lovely @stellarboystyles for putting together this little fic challenge. Congrats on 3 years babe! I hope that you like this story and that I have done this celebratory moment justice!

Word Count: 11.9 k

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, pining, Louis being a dickhead, a mean roommate

Trope: Best Friends to Lovers with Frat Boy Harry

Prompt: “Just sit on my fingers. Yeah, just like that.” (this is all the way at the end tbh, just a heads up lol)

P.s I know nothing about frat’s honestly and I just tried to avoid that the best that I could but fratboy!h lives in my mind rent free and I wanted to write it so....yeah.

September

Piper’s POV

I rolled my head back on my neck, looking up at the ceiling as my roommate sighed.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a selfish bitch?” Carli asked, her perfectly manicured nail resting on the cheap, wooden door of our dorm room. “I’m trying to unwind and relax after an extremely hard week and you’re ruining it for me.”

“I live here too!” I felt my brows pull together in frustration as I adjusted my bag on my sore shoulders, shifting from foot to foot. “The least you can let me do is come in and change before you start fucking.”

“You’re killing my mood!” She groaned, holding her hand out. “Give me your fucking bag and tell me what you need.”

“Carli-”

“Tell me what you need or I’m shutting this door in your face, I swear to god.” She snapped, her brows arching up as she wiggled her fingers at me. “You have five seconds.”

“Fine!” I said, shrugging my bag off my tired shoulders. “I need my purse, a black t-shirt, and a jacket.”

“Great.”

She slammed the door in my face, flicking the lock as I brushed my hands over my face angrily.

College was not supposed to be like this.

The next four years of my life were meant to be spent making new friends and partaking in fun activities on campus. So far, the only person I knew was Carli and she most definitely hated my guts with a burning passion. I wasn’t sure why she hated me so much when I mainly kept to myself, hunched over my desk with headphones on for most of the night when I studied. I hardly ever talked to Carli besides the odd argument about my typing being too loud and my presence being too...obvious. I hated every second of college so far and this wasn’t helping me at all.

I was moments away from having a breakdown, the build up creeping up my throat as I stood there in the hall, waiting for Carli as everyone else stared at my back. I tried not to let their prying eyes bother me, but I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to distract my mind, thinking about where I was going to go while Carli got her rocks off in our shared room. Maybe the library? Maybe a cafe?

Just as I started listing off cafes in my head, the door opened just a crack.

“Here’s your stuff, don’t come home before midnight.” She stuck a hand out, her voice muffled by the door. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things from her hands. “Bye, Pippi!”

“It’s Piper, you unbearable asshole.” I sighed, holding my stuff close to my chest as frustrated tears started to accumulate behind my eyes. “I hope you don’t have an orgasm.”

I turned on my heels, ready to storm towards the communal bathroom so I could change and collect myself before leaving. I only made it halfway down the hall when I heard someone shouting behind me. I wasn’t sure they were actually calling out for me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, sniffling as I reached up to wipe at my cheeks.

“Piper, hold on.” The girl who was calling my name stepped in front of me, letting out a shuddery breath. She only had eyeshadow on one of her perfectly shaped eyes and a makeup brush in her hand as she stopped. “I just wanted to say that I am so sorry your roommate just did that to you. You can use my room to change if you’d like? I know the communal bathroom doesn’t always offer the most privacy and my roommate is never home. I’ll stand outside and everything!”

“You don’t have to do that.” I sniffled before offering her a forced smile. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with teasing right now. “But thank you.”

“I insist.” Her brown eyes looked softer as she spoke, her hand falling to her side. “My name is Eleanor. I think we have Modern English together.”

“Piper.” I said. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I don’t mind it at all, babes.”

Eleanor left me in her room to get dressed, politely standing outside as I collected myself.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself as I stripped out of the blouse I had been wearing all day. I pulled my black t-shirt on, huffing when I realized that this wasn’t the one I actually needed. This one was meant for darker jeans and a pair of heeled boots. This top was meant for parties and bars, not a cafe. The criss crossed pattern was far too fancy for a late night cup of coffee and a lonely piece of cheesecake.

When I opened the door, my old shirt bundled up in my hand, I smiled at Eleanor.

She looked over my outfit, her eyes growing wide.

“You look great!” She said. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“I was just gonna go to Fitz and Co for coffee and dessert.” I gave her a nervous chuckle, clutching my old shirt in my hands. “Probably going to wander around campus after to kill time.”

“Don’t take offense,” She gave me a sweet smile, her accent growing thicker with each word she spoke. I hadn’t noticed it all that much before when my emotions were on overdrive and my mind was swirling with anger. “But that sounds absolutely dreadful and you deserve to have a little bit of fun. It’s Friday night for fuck’s sake and we’re in Uni!”

“I don’t really know anyone on campus.” I shrugged. “I’ve not made a ton of friends yet, you know?”

“I do, actually.” She nodded. “If I had to say, you’re the first person I’ve tried to make conversation with since I’ve been here. I’m going to a party tonight because my boyfriend’s frat is hosting it, and he’ll just text me all night if I don’t go.”

“That sounds like fun.” I said. “Thank you for helping me out and offering me your room. I really hope you have fun tonight."

“Why don’t you come with me?” She asked. “I know frat parties sound horrible after all the stuff you see in films, and a lot of them are pretty shit, but I would love to have a drinking buddy.”

“I don’t want to impose.” I said. “I’m sure you want to spend time with your boyfriend.”

“Nonsense, he sees me everyday.” She shook her head. “I would love to have someone to chat with that isn’t one of his football friends from back home.”

“Um, okay.’” I shrugged. “I guess that’s not too horrible and I kind of owe you one.”

“You won’t regret it.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

“So the house shouldn’t be too crowded.” Eleanor pulled her flannel tighter around her body, hunching over as the wind whipped around us. “A few of the guys are still out getting alcohol and people aren’t supposed to start showing up for another hour at least.”

“That’s good.” I nodded. “So why did you decide to come to school here?”

“Louis.” She said. “I couldn’t stomach the idea of being away from Lou and there are so many opportunities in America for both of us. He’s here on a footie scholarship and I’m here on a performing arts scholarship.”

“That’s really cool!” I exclaimed, my eyebrows raising up. “I didn’t peg you for a theatre nerd.”

“Just a tiny one.” She chuckled. “I’m more into the costumes than anything. Fashion has always owned my heart and my Mum took me to so many musicals as a girl. I figured I would combine my love for both and make it my career.”

“I admire that.” I said softly, glancing down at the sidewalk as we turned a corner. “So how long have you and Louis been together?”

“Four years.” She smiled. “We met on a holiday to London one summer and we’ve never let go of each other. Last year we went to the same University for our first year before deciding to come abroad and it was….magical.”

“He sounds lovely.” I said. “He makes you happy?”

“He does.” She nodded, her lips pursing slightly as she tried to hide her smile. “He’s a proper gentleman, even when he’s being a bit too laddie.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” I chuckled and Eleanor joined in. “What is a laddie? Is that like Lassie, the dog?”

“Not like that dog.” She scrunched up her nose. “I think you call them ‘Bro’s’ over here.”

“Ah, I do understand then.”

Eleanor and I continued chatting as we walked down Frat Row.

The houses were large, but they looked a little plain and rundown. I imagine having a group of rowdy, drunk boys living in a house without supervision didn’t do well for wear and tear on a house. Eleanor told me that the last house on frat row in the cul-de-sac belonged to pretty much the entire footy team with a few odd guys sprinkled in.

When we arrived, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

I was living in a tiny dorm room and these men were living like kings and a gigantic and modern house that looked brand new. Eleanor laughed as I took in the dark, blue-grey exterior. The shutters and the porch were both painted a dark, charcoal grey. We walked up the stairs and I continued to look around like a kid lost in a candy store.

Maybe joining a sorority wasn’t a bad move?

“So, that is the living room and just down that first hall is the bathroom. I recommend going upstairs to Louis’ room if you want to use a clean and unoccupied bathroom.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you around upstairs later if you’d like.”

“This is the cleanest Frat house I’ve ever seen in my life.” I said slowly, looking around. “How is it so pristine?”

“A few of the guys are really obsessed with cleanliness and organization.” She chuckled. “Also I spend a lot of time over here, so I do what I can.”

“I would spend all of my time here, too.” I said. “Why are you even in a dorm if you could be here?”

“Rules.” She rolled her eyes. “Technically women aren’t allowed to be housed in a frat, which blows, but I understand it.”

“Well, I’ll pretend to be you and stay in your dorm if you want to fly under the radar and move here.” I teased, patting her shoulder. “It’s a win win for both of us.”

“I might take you up on that.” She giggled, guiding me through an open archway. “This here is the kitchen-”

“Ellie, s’that you!”

Eleanor flinched at the booming voice from upstairs, her eyes casting up to the ceiling as she grumbled.

“Bloody hell, these men,” She shot me a sympathetic look and I tried my best not to laugh softly at her annoyance. “Yes, Niall?”

“I need help.” This accent was slightly different than Eleanor’s and it almost reminded me of the guy on the lucky charms commercial. “I don’t know what trousers to wear, should I do these dark jeans or these plaid one’s.”

The voice was closer and closer with each word and suddenly, a half naked man appeared in the doorway, holding two pairs of pants as he looked down at them. He was wearing white boxer briefs and white socks, the rest of his pale and freckled skin on display. I had to admit that he was extremely attractive, chestnut colored hair on top of his head and a soft stomach rounded out with a matching chestnut happy trail dusting under his belly button.

“Oh, hello.” He looked up, smiling at me with piercing blue eyes and extremely handsome features. I tried not to blush, my eyes glued to his. “Which one’s do ya think I should wear, love? Good to have an outsider’s perspective sometimes.”

The sound of a door shutting behind us caused my head to snap around.

This was more of a man standing at the opposite end of the kitchen, his chocolate colored curls framing his face and resting on his broad shoulders as he looked up at me. His face was perfect, adonis like features catching my attention and his bright green eyes causing my breath to catch in my throat. He offered me a small smile, his features soft as he cleared his throat.

“Hello.” He said softly to me before his eyes darted up, looking behind me. “For fuck’s sake, Niall. Why are you nearly naked!”

“I needed help!” I turned my head back towards Niall as his brows pulled together, his lips turning to a scowl. “I can’t decide what trousers to wear and Liam is no help!”

“We have a guest.” The green eyed god spoke from behind me, but I didn’t dare turn my head. I was afraid that if I did, I would be stuck staring at him for the rest of the night. “Don’t be rude.”

I glanced over at Eleanor who lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.

I tried, again, not to laugh at her misery.

“I swear to god, Niall,” She sighed heavily. “The least you could do is introduce yourself to the poor girl before you flash her.”

“M’Niall,” He rolled his eyes, looking over at me. “What’s your name, love?”

Harry’s POV

“My name is Piper.”

I stared at the back of her head, trying my best not to think about running my fingers through her soft curls that nearly matched the shade of my own. I inhaled sharply as I pressed my fingertips into the marble countertop below me. I had seen this girl, Piper, around campus before. I saw her flitting from building to building with her head tilted down and her headphones tucked in her cute little ears. I had a huge crush on this girl and now she was standing in my kitchen with my half-naked roommate and my best friend’s girl.

This wasn’t a good thing at all.

“S’nice to meet you, Piper.” Niall winked at her and I rolled my eyes, shooting him a glare over the girls head.

His brows furrowed and I gave him a pointed look before mouthing, ‘That’s the girl’.

Niall’s brows lifted up and he shot me a cheeky grin.

He was the only one I confided in about my girl troubles.

He knew all about the mystery girl that I passed by every day on my way to physics class and he had suggested to me several times that bumping into her was the best way to catch her attention. I declined, rolling my eyes at his childish suggestion. I had to admit though, if she had been in my class, I would have tossed paper at the back of her head to get her attention.

It was a trick that never failed.

“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed then.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Eleanor. “Lou is stuck on the phone with his Mum, babe. I think he might need some rescuing if he’s going to join the party at all tonight.”

“Oh,” Eleanor stood straighter, glancing over at Piper. “I don’t want to leave Piper-”

“I can stay with her.” I cleared my throat, reaching up to fiddle with my hair as both girls turned to look at me. “I’ve finished my part of party prep, so I don’t mind.”

“Harry, I don’t know.” Eleanor said. “I’m already afraid Niall’s neon white body is going to scare her off. I don’t need you turning on your Cheshire Charm.”

“Oi, I resent that.” I narrowed my eyes at her playfully, trying to fight off my smile as she chuckled. “I won’t be turning on any charm tonight, love. I’ve got a big match to play tomorrow, remember? Gotta save my strength and energy if I wanna do well.”

“Alright, fine.” Eleanor sighed, turning back to Piper. “Are you okay if I disappear for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back.”

“It’s fine.” Piper smiled at Eleanor, gently nodding her head. “Please, go ahead. I don’t mind waiting down here.”

“You’re sure?” Eleanor asked, her face laced with concern.

“Positive.” Piper glanced over at me. “I think I’m in good hands with ol’ Cheshire Charm back there.”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks.

She was funny and gorgeous.

Eleanor glanced between the two of us before saying a quick ‘be right back’.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Piper turned around, her hands pressing against the countertop as Niall wiggled his brows behind us. He disappeared behind Eleanor moments later, leaving Piper and I alone in the kitchen. “Would you like a Whiteclaw?”

“Oh, sure.” She nodded, her eyes dropping down to her hands. “I would love one.”

“You seem a bit nervous.” I said, walking towards the fridge. “Do you have a flavor preference?”

“No.” She said softly. “And yeah, I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ve had a pretty tough day and I wasn’t exactly prepared to come to a frat party.”

“Why are you here then?” I asked, my eyes scanning the shelves until I landed on the one filled with canned drinks. I reached for two lime flavored cocktails, pulling them out before I shut the door with my hip. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Um, Eleanor extended the invitation and I kind of owed her one.” Piper smiled, taking the drink with a soft ‘thank you’. “My roommate is a bit of a dickhead and she kicked me out so she could get laid. Eleanor saw me in the hallway on the verge of a mental breakdown and we just...hit it off, I guess.”

“Sorry your roommate was a dickhead.” I smiled, letting my eyes roam over the soft features of her face. “I’m glad you and El hit it off though. It’s nice to have a new face around here.”

I let my eyes trail over the features of her face now that she was up close and personal.

Her eyes were hazel, a soft golden hue to her irises. Her brows were thick and wild, but perfectly shaped. There were soft freckles peeking out from under her foundation and her cheeks were a soft shade of red. Her nose was soft and rounded at the end and I couldn’t help but think of hovering over her, brushing my own nose against hers as I thrust into her.

I hated being a man sometimes.

She was a beautiful girl and even in my head she deserved better than to be thought of that way. She was more than just a sexual object and she didn’t need some creepy frat guy thinking dirty thoughts about her only moments after meeting her. I cleared my throat, reaching for my drink. I took a long sip as she raised her brows, offering me a sly smirk as she sipped at her own drink.

“Eleanor is a really sweet girl.” I rested my can on the marble countertop. “She’s been having trouble making friends over here, so it’s nice that she’s found someone to hang out with besides us.”

“I really like her.” Piper said softly. “I’ve been having trouble making friends, too. I’m not really the best at putting myself out there, you know?”

“I think you’re doing just fine.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, noticing how her cheeks turned a shade darker. “I don’t think I’ve fully introduced myself, love. I’m Harry.”

“I’m Piper.” She held her hand out and I took it, giving it a soft shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

Her skin was so bloody soft, her hands a little cold and damp from the can she was holding.

“You too.” I said. “If you need anything tonight, please don’t hesitate to find me. I know how overwhelming these parties can be and I’ll be happy to keep you company or walk you out for some fresh air if you need it.”

“Thank you.” She said softly. “The same goes for you. If you need any company tonight, I’m your girl.”

Just like that, my mind was back in the gutter.

All I could hear in my head was the echoes of her sweet moans, her voice chanting over and over again ‘M’your girl, Harry. Yours’. I cleared my throat, giving her a tight smile as I tried to avoid thinking about her tucked in my sheets, writhing and gasping as I licked into her.

I was so totally fucked.

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

“Piper, babe,” I laughed, holding her hips tightly as she swayed. “I think we should sit you down for a minute, yeah?”

“If I sit, I’ll sleep.” She whined, looking up at me with her sweet puppy dog eyes. “Where did Eleanor go?”

“Eleanor is going upstairs with Louis.” I said softly, digging my fingers into the fleshy skin above the waistband of her jeans. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She pursed her lips, shaking her head as she pressed her hands into my shoulders.

I knew exactly how we’d gotten here.

The party was still going strong around us, people dancing and shouting as Piper swayed in front of me. I wanted so badly to brush her hair from her face and stroke the soft skin of her cheek, but I would never do something like that when she was this off her face. Holding onto her hips was already too intimate for my liking, but I was afraid she would topple over without some form of support. She swayed forward, her eyes face pinching up ever so slightly before she pressed one hand to her forehead. I frowned, pulling her closer as a group of guys rushed by.

If Niall hadn’t suggested we play four drinking games in a row, Piper and Eleanor might not have been off their faces within the first two hours of the party. I had to admit that I didn’t exactly mind taking care of Piper. She was a funny drunk, silly puns and snide comments slipping from her lips carelessly as she leaned against me. It was when her eyes started to drift shut and her body started to sway, that I started to worry about her. I pulled her into the kitchen alongside a giggly Eleanor, handing them both bottles of water while I quickly cooked up some pizza rolls that Niall had hidden in the freezer. Both girls ate between loud laughs, knocking into each other as I watched them with a small smile on my face.

Seeing Eleanor happy made me happy, but seeing her happy with the girl of my dreams made me feel like I was on cloud nine.

“Mate,” Louis’ hand clapped down on my shoulder and I turned my head as Piper’s body fell into mine. “I can take her off your hands. El told me they live in the same halls-”

“She can barely stand on her own, Lou.” I shook my head, glancing down as she rested her head on my shoulder. “Gonna go put her to bed in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch after everyone is gone.”

“Lock the door if you leave her up there.” Louis said. “I’m going back up to El in a minute, but I figured I should get some painkillers and water for the morning.”

“Bring some up for Piper?” I asked him. “I probably won’t leave her alone in there, knowing all of these jackasses are around.”

“Tell me about it.” Louis snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be up in five.”

I nodded, watching him disappear through the crowd of people in our living room.

“Hey, love,” I said softly. “Gonna take you upstairs and tuck you in, okay?”

“Kay.” She mumbled, turning her head until her nose brushed against the column of my neck.

I made a mental note to have a talk with her tomorrow about going places with strangers when she was drunk. I knew that I meant no harm, but we were still getting to know each other. It set off a level of worry that I only ever felt when it came to my Mum or Sister. It was almost a primal need to protect, my arms winding tightly around her as I guided her to the stairs.

It was no easy feat to get her up the staircase, but when we finally made it to my room, she snapped into a more alert mode. She looked up, her tired eyes growing as wide as they could before she brushed some of her hair out of her face. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face as I pressed my hand lightly to her lower back.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Harry.” She said softly. “I’m really sorry I’m ruining your fun.”

“Nonsense, love.” I shook my head. “S’just another party, there will be plenty more.”

“Still.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to take your bed. Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back and I overheard that you have a match tomorrow.”

“S’alright.” I said. “I’ve slept on a floor before a match and still kicked ass, Piper. I don’t mind giving my bed up for a good cause.”

She let out an aggravated sigh, rolling her eyes at me.

I tried not to smile as she grumbled under her breath, reaching for the doorknob to my bedroom door. I followed in behind her, flicking the light switch on before I shut the door behind me. Piper staggered a little and I hovered, my hands waiting to catch her should she fall. Instead, she stumbled over to my bed on bambi like legs, collapsing on the foot with a soft groan.

“You need some help?” I asked her as she lifted her leg, struggling with her shoe. She merely waved her hand at me, shaking her head. “You want something comfy to change into? I’ve got sweats, shorts-”

“Sweats sound lovely.” She mumbled, a soft ‘aha’ falling from her lips as she finally tugged the shoelace of her boot out of a knot. “You’re a true gentleman, has anyone ever told you that?”

“My Mum.” I chuckled, walking over to my dresser in search of comfy clothes.

“S’good,” Piper sighed out as her boot hit the floor. “Hard to find a proper gentleman these days, Harry. I think Jude Law was the last of them.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” I shook my head, trying to contain my laughter as I sifted through my sweatpants. I settled on my favorite pair, the light grey fabric soft and worn. “Do you want a t-shirt to sleep in or a long sleeve shirt?”

“Um, t-shirt.” She mumbled. “Your room is lovely. Did you do all of the decorating yourself?”

“I did, yeah.” I nodded. “Brought a few key things from home, but I spent most of my money in Target when I got here.”

“Amen to that.” She hiccuped softly. “I like your record player. I’ve always wanted one of those.”

“One day you’ll have to come up and listen to some records with me.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting how the corners of her lips ticked up into a girlish grin. “What kind of music do you like?”

“All of it.” She said simply, her voice trailing off. “I’ve always been a fan of classical music for studying. My mom calls me a psychopath.”

“They are known for indulging in the genre.” I snorted, pulling out a white t-shirt before I turned around. “I think that’s lovely, though. I’ve heard some good stuff from Bach in my music theory class and I have to say, it makes for good studying music.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” She said. “I love me some cello, mate.”

“Look at that.” I hummed out, holding the clothes out to her. “Got you talking like a proper brit now, don’t we. Didn’t even know what footy was at the start of the night.”

“Piss off.” She grumbled, trying to hide her amusement as she mocked my accent.

“I’m gonna run to Louis' room while you get dressed, okay?” I said. “Gonna steal you some makeup wipes from El’s overnight bag so we can take your makeup off. I want you to lock the door and don’t open it for anyone besides me. I don’t care if it’s Niall or god himself, alright?”

“Alright.” She whispered softly. “You’re really fucking nice, Harry.”

I tried to resist the urge to brush my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek, but I couldn’t.

I inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes, leaning into my touch with a soft hum.

“I’ll be right back.” I said softly. “Lock the door.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV

Falling in love with Harry took me all of five minutes.

I decided that it was physically impossible not to love someone so perfect. He was a real gentleman, keeping his hands in respectful spots even when I was falling all over him, drunk off my ass. I felt a little guilty about being so touchy-feely with someone I hardly knew, but I was comfortable around him from the start. He stood by my side for most of the night, talking with Eleanor and I as we tossed shots back like water.

I stood up from the foot of his bed, fiddling with the button on my pants. My vision was most definitely blurry and my fingers were shaking as I swayed on my feet, but I managed to pull the button from the loop before I shoved my pants down my legs. It took a bit of wiggling to get my ass settled into Harry’s sweats, an article of clothing clearly meant for a man with no….assets.

With a soft hiccup, I worked on my shirt, tossing it to the ground before I reached behind me to take off my bra. My drunk brain didn’t care about etiquette or embarrassment anymore. That all flew out the window with my third shot of tequila that Niall handed over. When I settled the fabric of Harry’s shirt over my tired limbs, I heard a soft knock at the door.

I stumbled over, pressing my ear against the wood to hear who was there. I was plastered, yeah, but I remembered Harry’s speech about not opening the door for anyone.

“Who is it?” I called out, my voice breaking just a little.

“S’me.” I heard Harry’s gruff voice. “S’Harry.”

I flicked the lock on the door, opening it up with a soft smile.

Harry held up some makeup wipes and a bottle of water, flashing me a cheesy grin. I laughed, shutting the door and flicking the lock behind him again as he walked into his room. When I turned around, my arms crossed over my chest, he was looking at my body with soft eyes.

“Everything feel comfy enough to sleep in?” He asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded.

“Alright.” He nodded, looking up at me with glassy jade eyes. “Let’s get you tucked in, shall we?”

I smiled, walking over to his bed.

I picked the side farthest from the door and closest to the window.

Harry pulled back the covers, waiting for me to climb in before he rested them over my legs. He set the bottle of water on the bedside table, two painkillers falling to the wood next to the plastic bottle. He sat down next to my legs, ripping into the makeup wipes with ease. I watched him pluck a sheet out before closing the pack back up, tossing it to the nightstand with the other items. I rolled my lips in as he turned towards me, holding the cloth out.

“Do you want me to do it?” He asked. “Just so you know it’s all gone?”

“Yes, please.” I nodded.

I could take my makeup off in my sleep.

I’d done it before, actually.

But there was something about being doted on by Harry that I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

I preened as he wiped the cloth over my skin with gentle strokes, swiping away concealer and highlighter with ease. I let my eyes slip shut when he asked, his index finger gently brushing at the small bit of liquid liner and shimmery shadow on my lids. When it got to my lips, he did a few quick dabs before his touch was gone from my face all together.

“All clean.” He smiled, tossing the wipe towards the bin in the corner of the room. “Alright, I’m going to tuck you in and turn on a movie. I’ll just be on the floor next to you if you need anything at all. Bathroom is through that door right there.”

“Don’t sleep on the floor.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay with sharing a bed with you, Harry. Friends do that all the time, don’t they?”

“But you’re drunk.” He said softly. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable-”

“I don’t.” I said. “From the moment we met, you’ve made me feel very welcomed and comfortable. I promise that I don’t feel unsafe or pressured in any way, Harry. If you feel more comfortable sleeping on the floor, then I understand, but I’m okay with you sleeping next to me.”

Harry reached up to rustle his long strands of hair, his curls flopping about as he looked at me with a curious gaze. He inhaled sharply, nibbling on his lower lip as I stared back at him with raised brows and an amused grin.

“I’ll put a pillow wall between us and everything.” I said. “If it makes you feel comfortable.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up in the morning and freak out.” He said softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink and if you don’t remember any of this tomorrow, it might be a little scary to wake up with a strange man in your bed.”

“Well, it’s your bed.” I said softly. “And I’ve been worse off than this and still remembered what happened the night before, Harry. I come from a very small town where drinking is considered a sport. This is a regular Tuesday for me.”

“Alright.” He whispered through a breathy laugh. “But if you change your mind at any point through the night, feel free to kick me out of bed.”

“I won’t.” I rolled my eyes. “Get ready for bed, yeah? You’ve got a big day tomorrow and I can’t have you losing a match because of me. People will think I’m bad luck.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Harry’s POV

When I woke up in the middle of the night, our pillow wall was gone.

Piper’s cheek was pressed into her pillow, soft puffs of air escaping her parted lips as she tightened her grip on my shirt. Her hand was resting on my tummy and her foot was hooked over my calf muscle, but she remained on her side of the bed. I lay there for a minute, watching her peaceful face as she slept. I tried to commit her features to memory, my heart squeezing in my chest as she shuffled around a bit. I rested my hand over hers, softly brushing my fingers over her knuckles as her body moved just a little closer to mine.

The dry feeling in my mouth pulled me from my peaceful moment, urging me to go downstairs for my own bottle of water. It was silent in the house, no more music pumping through the speakers downstairs, and I felt safe enough to leave Piper on her own in my room without the doors locked. I would only be gone for a few minutes at the most, running down for water before I ran back up to curl back up next to the sleeping girl in my bed.

When I made it downstairs, Louis was already in the kitchen.

“Hey,” I grumbled, walking over to the fridge. “What are you doing up?”

“Same as you.” He said. “Thirsty.”

“Hmm.” I nodded. “Eleanor still knocked out cold?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Love that girl to death, but she snores like a bloody chainsaw.”

“That she does.” I laughed, pulling a water bottle out. “I’m glad she’s got Piper as a friend. It was nice to see her unwind tonight.”

“It was.” Louis nodded, pressing his hip into the countertop. “Piper likes you.”

I nearly choked on my water as Louis looked up at me.

“What?” I asked. “How on earth-”

“It’s obvious, mate.” Louis rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips. “She’s got a bit of a crush on you, but what girl doesn’t?”

“Lou-” I said slowly, my eyes narrowing. “Why do I feel like you’re about to give me a speech.”

“It would break my heart if Eleanor lost her as a friend, Harry.” Louis said softly. “She doesn’t have anyone over here and I at least have you and Niall, you know? If she lost Piper because you two decided to fool around and things ended badly-”

“That’s not what this is.” I said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to say, either. I would never hurt Piper, or anyone, on purpose. She’s a very sweet girl and it just so happens that I’ve liked her for a while.”

“You know each other, then?” Louis brows arched up and I sighed. “Wasn’t aware.”

“We don’t know each other, but I’ve seen her around campus.” I mumbled. “Always had my eyes on her, Lou. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Harry,” Louis said softly. “I’m asking you as a friend, please don’t get involved.”

“That’s a shitty thing to ask.” My voice was hoarse. “It’s late and we’re both still pissed. I’m going to bed.”

“Just think about it.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the countertop.

Lucky for Louis, it was all I could think about for the rest of the night.

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV

When I woke up the next morning, I could feel Harry’s heartbeat against my cheek.

The annoying beeping of his alarm had me groaning and turning my face into his chest. I heard him mutter a soft series of ‘sorry’s’ before it turned off. Harry’s arm draped over my back, holding me against his chest as I closed my eyes again. I let out a soft hum as he brushed his fingers up and down my back, his chest rising and falling slowly under my head.

“I see that we’ve lost the pillow wall.” Harry’s voice was deep and raspy, causing a shiver to run up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whispered, lifting my head up as I pressed my palm to his chest. “I guess I tossed it aside in the middle of the night.”

“You did.” He chuckled softly. “You pushed it down with your feet and then you pulled it out and chucked it because you were trying to get comfortable.”

“You watched me?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and focus my vision as I rested my chin on the back of my hand.

“I felt you flopping around like a fish out of water and I had to check on you.” He said slowly, his own eyes still shut. “I fell back asleep and when I woke up for a wee you were snuggled so tightly against me that I could barely pry you off.”

“I didn’t know that I was a cuddler.” I mumbled softly. “I’ve never really slept in a bed with anyone else before.”

“Well, you can tick that box off of your bucket list.” He smiled, his fingers still brushing over my back as I looked down at him. “You staring at me?”

“A little.” I confessed, a small smile creeping up on my lips. “Think you’re pretty.”

“Love,” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Easy.”

“What?” I asked, dropping my head back to his chest. “Why can’t I say you're pretty? We spent the night together, I’m allowed to compliment you a little.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to flirt with me?” He cleared his throat, shifting around under me. I groaned, falling back to the pillow next to him. “Do friends flirt?”

Friends.

I should have known better.

There was no way on earth someone like Harry would want to be with someone like me.

“Friends can call each other pretty.” I said dejectedly, turning on my side. “And friends can cuddle, too.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re an amazing cuddler.” He said softly, pressing his palm to my bicep as he leaned over to kiss my temple. “You’re welcome to sleep more if you’d like, but I would love to take you out to breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I turned my head, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I thought you had a match this morning?”

“I’ve got a few hours.” He rested his body next to mine, his head falling on the pillow next to mine lazily. “Eleanor will be at the match.”

“I know.” I whispered.

“You should sit with her.” Harry smiled. “I would like that.”

“Okay.” I said softly as he snaked his arm underneath my own, curling it around my middle. I tried to fight off a smile. “Thought we were getting up?”

“Few more minutes.” He mumbled. “You smell nice. S’that your perfume or your shampoo?”

“Probably both.” I smiled, resting my palm over his forearm. “Both sweet pea scented.”

“Piper.” He mused. “Sweet pea.”

“What are you mumbling about?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles at his sleepy rambling.

“Gonna call you sweet pea.” He mumbled. “Because your name starts with a P and you’re so sweet.”

Fuck being friends.

I liked this boy.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach.

I was truly fucked.

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

December

Piper’s POV

There were only a few seconds left in the match and our boys were killing it.

Eleanor gripped my hand tighter as Louis shouted to Niall across the field. Seconds later, he was kicking the ball with the side of his foot. Harry was much closer to the goal, ready to land the winning kick into the goal. I looked at him, his chest heaving and his hairline coated in a thin sheen of sweat. His face was intense and it made my thighs clench ever so slightly to see him so serious. He was always so attractive in the middle of a game, his brows pulled together and his lips pinched tightly together. I loved watching him pull his hair up before a game, twisting the long strands around before he tossed it up in a bun on top of his head.

“He’s got this.” I said. “Come on, Lou!”

“He’s gonna pass to Harry.” She shook her head. “He has to, babe. He’ll miss from back there.”

“They have five fucking seconds.” We always got a bit snippy during games, but never at each other. “It better be a flawless fucking pass.”

Louis passed the black and white checked ball to Harry with a swift kick and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Harry pushed a guy on the opposing team gently with his shoulder, sliding low until his foot collided with the ball. Just as the last second ticked down, it collided with the net behind the goal and Harry collapsed on his back as players rushed around him.

Everyone cheered loudly, Eleanor jumping up with a loud cheer alongside the crowd. I could barely move, my heart thumping so loudly that it was all I could hear. I watched Harry’s back flat on the ground, my eyes watering as he continued to stay still. When I saw him sit up, shaking his head, I finally took a deep breath. Moments later, Louis and Niall were lifting him up on their shoulders.

“Thank, fuck.” I whispered, standing up next to Eleanor as I clapped.

Harry’s eyes flitted to the stands, landing on mine with a wide grin.

He was covered in mud and dirt, but he was fine.

Eleanor grabbed my hand, guiding me down towards the field.

She was quick to launch on Louis when her feet hit the grass and Niall was quick to run over and scoop me up. I patted him on the back, laughing as he shook me around in his arms.

“We won!” He cheered. “We bloody won!”

“I know!” I chuckled, brushing my hand over the back of his head. “I’m proud of you, Ni.”

He put me on my feet, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he turned around to Harry. He grabbed his best mate by the face, kissing his forehead before he ran off shouting something that was terribly hard to make out. I rolled my eyes, steadying myself on my feet. Harry walked over to me, holding his arms out with that same wide and cheeky grin on his lips.

“Come give your best mate a hug,” He said. “Gotta thank my good luck charm.”

“Harry, no.” I said, holding my hands up. “You’re covered in mud and grass and- Harry!”

I squealed, taking off on the grass as Harry chased me.

I dodged a few members of the opposing team, apologizing profusely.

It didn’t take very long for Harry to wrap his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.

“I deserve a bloody hug, sweet pea.” He squeezed me tight. “I won!”

“I know, but you’re gross.” I groaned, dropping my head back. “You get to shower before we go to lunch and I don’t.”

“You could always join.” He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Know you’ve been dying to see me naked, haven’t ya pea?”

“I will elbow you.” I grumbled, spinning around in his arms. “Don’t be a prick.”

“Just like watching you blush, Piper.” He reached over, pinching my cheek softly. “Where are we going for lunch today?”

“Where do we always go for lunch?” I rolled my eyes. “Go on, get cleaned up so we can go.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I’ll see you in ten?”

“I’ll be here.”

I walked back over to Eleanor and Louis, my mind stuck on Harry’s cheeky comment.

I hated when he did stuff like that.

He was always toying with my emotions, pulling me to and fro like I didn’t have any feelings at all. He knew that I had a crush on him and he knew that it sucked for me to be so close, but I had the power to stop it at any time. The truth was that I couldn’t stomach the thought of being away from him like that. I wanted him in my life, no matter how I could have him. I walked towards Eleanor with a heavy sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as she kissed Louis deeply.

Being around a couple constantly was torture when you weren’t apart of one yourself. Especially when the person you wanted to be a couple with was always around anyways. When the pair were done kissing, Louis ran off towards the stadium to take a shower in the locker room. Eleanor smiled over at me and I gave her a blank stare, my lips turning down.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“He’s done it again!” I tossed my hands up. “He was all ‘you should come shower with me, I know you want to see me naked’. Isn’t he the one who keeps insisting we should just be friends?”

“He’s an idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “I hate that he keeps doing this and I hate that you won’t let me talk to him about it.”

“I don’t want to come between you and an old friend, El.” I shook my head. “He’ll grow up eventually, I guess. If he doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to start moving on.”

“I think you two would be so perfect for each other, babe.” She sighed. “I don’t know what his deal is!”

“Has Louis said anything?” I ask softly. “I don’t want to pry but-”

“Not a word.” She said, her sympathetic grin causing my heart to sink. “He spends all of his time with you and we both know that he’s into you, but something is holding him back.”

“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I like him so much, El.”

“I know.” She frowned. “I wish I could smack some sense into that thick skull of his. I mean, men can be so daft and then they say we’re the complicated ones!”

“I know!” I exclaimed. “Anyways, you and Lou are still coming to lunch with us, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Louis is dying for a turkey apple sandwich.”

“That does sound good.” I hummed out. “I was thinking about soup, though, it’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, soup.” She groaned out. “That’s perfect,”

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

Harry’s Pov

I wrapped my towel around my waist, letting out a heavy sigh as I turned the faucet off.

I hated what I was doing to Piper.

My sweet pea.

I couldn’t help but rile her up like that, watching her face flush red as I whispered in her ear.

Part of me was certain that I was riling her up so that she would make the first move. If that was the case, maybe Louis would realize that our feelings for each other were real.

“Mate,” Louis said. “What was that on the field?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I walked up to my locker. “We won, Lou.”

“I meant when you were chasing Piper.” He said. “That was flirting, Harry.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

If he heard the things that passed between Piper and I when we were alone, he’d be livid.

It was borderline verbal sex with us sometimes, the tension so thick that it had her clamping her legs shut and me shifting in my seat.

“Was just teasing her, Lou.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not getting onto Niall for picking her up and kissing her face.”

“Niall means no harm.”

“And neither do I.” I shot him a glare. “Mind your mouth.”

“Why her, Harry?” He sighed. “You could have any bird or lad on campus and you want her, why?”

“Because she’s Piper.” I turned towards him. “She’s the one that I want, okay. I can’t tell you why I think about her every moment of the day or why I want to be with her, I just do. I want to be there for her and you’re stupid fucking fear for Eleanor is standing in my way.”

“You can do what you want.” Louis’ jaw tensed. “M’not standing in your fookin’ way, mate.”

“But you are!” I shouted. “You are because you know that I would never do anything to hurt you or El because you’re family to me. You asked me not to do something and I’m being respectful of that because I respect you. I can’t say that you respect me though, because you would never ask this of me if you did. Can’t you see that this is killing me?”

Louis let out a frustrated huff as I turned back to my locker.

I grabbed my clothes, angrily pulling them on before I ran my towel over the wet strands of my hair. Piper would be pissed to see me pulling at my curls instead of properly scrunching them up with a soft t-shirt, but I couldn’t be arsed to care about that right now. I slammed my locker shut, hiking my bag onto my shoulder before I stormed out of the locker room. When I walked out onto the field, Eleanor and Piper were whispering amongst themselves.

“I just don’t get it.” Piper let out a sad sigh. “I want-”

“I know, babe!” Eleanor interrupted her with a chipper voice, pressing her hand to Piper’s bicep with a wide smile. “I wish they still had pumpkin spice too, I already miss it.”

“You women and your pumpkin spice.” I grumbled, pressing my hand to Piper’s hip before I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Know you miss it, Pea, but it’s peppermint season now.”

“You’re right.” She gave me a playful pout. “I guess I can survive with that for now.”

“Thatta girl.” I chuckled, pulling my hand back as she reached up to touch my hair. “What?”

“You didn’t scrunch your hair properly, H.” She sighed. “I’ve told you to take better care of these curls! They’re going to be frizzy when they dry.”

I licked over my bottom lip, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the pout off of her lips.

“Sweet Pea, I’m sorry.” I said softly. “I was in a little bit of a rush, yeah? Wanted to get my favorite girls to lunch.”

“In that case, I guess I can forgive you.” She mumbled.

☕️☕️☕️☕️

Piper’s POV

I sipped at my peppermint latte as Harry tossed a french fry into his mouth.

“So when are you all flying home?” I asked. “Only a few weeks left until Christmas and exams are almost over.”

“El and I are flying out next Friday.” Louis said, smiling over at his girlfriend. “I’m excited to see me Mum and sisters.”

“Me too.” Eleanor nodded. “Missed them all.”

“What about you, H?” I asked.

“I decided to stay.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to disrupt my schedule mid year, you know? It’ll be hard for me to get back into things come January if I spend an entire three weeks vegging out with Mum and Gem.”

“Oh.” I said softly, my face falling as he cleared his throat.

He was avoiding something and he was sad about it.

“I’m not going home either.” I said softly. “Too expensive to fly around the holiday’s, you know? Don’t make nearly enough being a full time fan girl for the footie team.”

“Tell me about it.” Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “Who do I talk to about getting that raise I was promised.”

“Oh, you get plenty as it is.” Louis leaned forward, capturing her lips. “Pay you in love and other things.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, standing up from the table.

“I’ve gotta go.” He pulled his wallet out, tossing twenty five dollars onto the table. “S’enough for both of us and the tip, Pea. I’ll see you later in Mcgregor Hall for our study session.”

“H-”

“Bye.” He leaned over, pressing a sloppy kiss to my forehead before doing the same to El.

I watched him storm out with a confused look on my face.

“Should I not have asked about Christmas?” I looked at Eleanor with soft eyes. “I can’t….El, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine.” She said softly. “He’s just a bit moody today, isn’t he? Misses his Mum a whole lot, it has nothing to do with you.”

“What are you two on about?” Louis asked, glancing between us. “Is something going on between you and Harry?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s the problem.”

“They have this chemistry and Piper really likes Harry, but he told her that being friend’s was their best option.” Eleanor explained softly. “Sometimes he’s sweet on her though and it makes her sad because she wants him.”

“El.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “He doesn’t need all of the details.”

“You like that miserable sod?” Louis asked. “You’re not worried about a relationship with him ruining your friendship?”

“Not really.” I shook my head at Louis. “Harry and I will always be friends.”

“No, I mean,” Louis sighed. “You’re not worried about it ruining you and Eleanor’s friendship?”

“No.” I said slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel like if you and Harry were to break up, you wouldn’t want to be friends with El because he’s always around.” Louis said softly. “Wouldn’t that be hard?”

“For a bit, yeah.” I shrugged. “We’re both mature, though. I think we could work through any differences and remain friends.”

“Why are you being so nosy?” Eleanor narrowed her eyes, looking at Louis. “What have you done?”

“Nothin’!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ve not done anythin’.”

“Louis!” She cried out. “You’re lying to me.”

“M’not.” He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “Swear I meant well.”

“Louis, what did you do?” I asked softly, my heart dropping as he avoided my gaze. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I just…” He licked over his bottom lip, looking between Eleanor and I with wide eyes. “I just asked him to consider your friendship with Eleanor before making any moves on you. I didn’t want to see her lose her best friend, you know?”

“You’re a sodding prick, Louis Tomlinson.” Eleanor snapped. “You knew that Harry would respect that if you asked. He thinks of you as a brother and he would do anything for you.”

“I have to go.” I grabbed my bag and my coat. “I have to find Harry.”

“Go on,” Eleanor said. “I’ve got a very naughty boyfriend to deal with.”

❄️��❄️💠❄️💠❄️

The first place I ran to was the frat house.

Harry wasn’t there and Niall hadn’t seen him at all.

The second place I ran was the park on the far end of campus that we often spent weekends at.

He wasn’t there either.

When I finally found him, I was only a little shocked.

“You just played a match, mate.” I let out a relieved sigh when he snapped his head up, his eyes softening when he saw me. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just needed to clear my head.” He said as I walked closer. “Why are you here?”

“I had to see you.” I took a deep breath, swiping the ball from between Harry’s feet with a swift kick. It landed in the goal and Harry let out an amused, but breathy chuckle. “I’m getting good.”

“You’ve got a good teacher.” He snorted out a laugh. “Everything okay, sweet pea?”

“No.” I said. “You see, I’ve got this friend and he’s having some girl trouble.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “What’s his deal?”

“He really likes this girl and he flirts with her all the time, but he hasn’t made a move.” I shrugged, glancing up at Harry. “There’s this other friend of theirs that asked an impossible favor of him and he’s being loyal, which I admit is admirable, but a little daft, as you would say.”

Harry’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down softly and he looked over my head.

“He does sound quite daft, doesn’t he?” He let out a soft laugh, closing his eyes. “Piper-”

“It makes me love him more though.” I said softly. “The fact that he’s putting aside his feelings because he’s that loyal to the people he loves. It’s stupid, but really sweet.”

“You think so?” He asked, his eyes a little watery as he looked down at me.

“I do.” I nodded. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this, Harry? We share everything with each other and-”

“This was the one thing I couldn’t tell you, pea.” He said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you and...I knew that this would. I didn’t want you to feel like I was choosing something over you, because that isn’t the case.”

“Harry, it’s okay.” I said softly. “I would have understood and I also would have had a very long talk with Louis about minding his own business, darling. You’re free to be with whoever you want and no one can tell you otherwise.”

“What if I want to be with my beautiful best friend, pea?” He reached up, brushing his thumb over my chin. “What if I want to be with the girl that stole my heart the moment I saw her?”

“Then make a fucking move, Styles.” I let out a breathy laugh as he leaned closer. “She won’t wait around forever. She’s a fucking catch and-”

Harry’s lips pressed into mine, cold and wet and perfect.

I pressed my fingers into his shoulders, gripping his coat tightly with glove covered fingers.

He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my lips.

“You’re perfect, Piper.” His breath washed over my lips as I shuffled closer, desperately seeking his body heat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I said. “Just be with me, H. Be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Piper.” He brushed the tip of his nose over mine. “Always will be.”

When Harry’s lips pressed to mine again, something wet landed on my cheek.

We both pulled back, looking up at the sky with wide smiles.

“Snow.” I said softly.

“Christmas miracle isn’t complete with snow, is it?” He teased, brushing his nose against mine.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Harry’s POV

Louis looked like a child who had just been told Santa wasn’t real when Piper and I walked back into the cafe holding hands. He shot me a soft look that said ‘mate, I’m really sorry for being a dickhead’ and I gave him a tight smile in response. We still needed to have a talk about everything, but there was no use in fighting over something that was in the past now. It felt good, sitting next to Piper as her boyfriend and not just her best friend. It was sudden and my mind was still reeling, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I walked her back to her dorm that night with a pout on my lips and our fingers tightly laced together.

“I don’t want to say goodbye, pea.” I mumbled, my thumb brushing against her cheek softly as we stood in front of her door. “Just got you.”

“You’ve always had me.” She snorted out a soft laugh.

“Never been able to make out with you, though.” I wiggled my brows. “Think we can finally carry through on all that sexual banter we’ve been partaking in.”

“Yeah.” She said quickly, her cheeks getting pinker. “But not tonight, H. Think we should take some time apart to think about things before we jump right in. It’s going to be a bit different now and I need to get used to the idea.”

“Take as much time as you need.” I pressed my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”

I was only slightly regretting my words now.

Everyone had left for Christmas and we had the house to ourselves.

We were in the middle of a movie marathon in the living room, a few bottles of wine and takeout boxes scattered on the coffee table as we snuggled into each other. Piper’s head rested on my chest and her fingers rested against my stomach, slightly drumming over the bit of holiday weight I had put on over the last week or so. She looked so cute all snuggled up in my sweater and a pair of fluffy sucks, my sweatpants tucked into them carelessly.

“You’re thinking too loud.” She whispered, lifting her head up. “What’s going on in your head, H?”

“Just thinking about how cute you are.” I smiled down at her. “You’re all snuggled up in my clothes with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes. I just can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to call you my girl.”

Her eyes searched my face as I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I want you.” She said softly. “But I’m scared.”

“I wasn’t…” I trailed off. “M’not trying to get in your pants, sweet pea. I just wanted you to know that I’m so in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you.” She sat up. “And I would really, really like to show you how much I love you.”

“When you’re ready.” I said. “I know that you didn’t have the best first time and you’re a little nervous to dive back in, but I can wait. I want you to be one hundred percent ready when the time comes.”

She inhaled sharply before giving me a soft nod.

“I love you.” I said, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Get back over ‘ere, pea. Wanna snuggle you some more.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Piper’s POV

Harry was snoring softly in my ear on the couch.

The sun had long gone down and the credits for The Holiday were rolling on the flatscreen in Harry’s living room. With a soft groan, I flipped around in his arms, nuzzling my face into his chest as he tightened his arms around me. The scent of his cologne filled my senses, nearly lulling me back to sleep. I was moments from falling back into dreamland when I felt something firm pressing between my thighs, causing my eyes to snap open. I pulled back to look at Harry’s face, his eyes still shut as he continued to softly snore. He was still fast asleep.

I let out a soft gasp, my walls clenching down as I shifted against his thigh. I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening against his sweater as I stilled my hips. I tilted my head back, looking over his face as he slept peacefully. I didn’t want to wake him, but was done waiting. I wanted him. I wanted everything with Harry and I especially wanted to indulge passion filled moments with frantic hands and desperate kisses with a christmas film playing in the background.

“Harry.” I said his name softly, my fingers trailing up his throat to cup his cheek. “Harry, baby, wake up.”

“S’wrong?” He asked, tucking his head down. “You alright?”

“I want you.” I said it softly, my heart pounding against my chest. “I’m ready.”

“Sweet pea, s’late.” He opened his eyes. “Are you sleep talkin’?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean it.”

I rolled my hips, grinding my core against his thigh to really send the message through.

“Piper.” He gasped, his eyes wide open. “Darling, what….what’re you doing?”

“Was trying to snuggle up to you and you put your thigh between my legs, H.” I said timidly, my face heating up under his gaze. His lips were curling into a soft smile and I bit the inside of my cheek. “It felt nice.”

“S’that why you want me?” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Needy girl.”

“Please.” I whispered. “I need you.”

“I’ve got ye’.” He leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to my lips. “Gonna push your pants down, okay?”

I nodded, but she shook his head.

“If we’re doing this, I want to hear you.” He said. “I need you to say what you want.”

“Take my pants off.” I griped, tilting my head back.

“Good girl.”

Two little words.

They sent a shockwave through my body, running straight to my core.

I let out a soft whimper as he pushed at the waistband of my pants.

“M’too tired to fuck you.” He said softly. “But I promise to make you feel so good, sweet pea. Gonna have you cummin’ fo’ me.”

“Please.”

I shifted my hips as he moved the waistband of my sweats to my thighs, his hand brushing up the skin of my leg to my hip. He gave it a soft squeeze as our lips collided and I squirmed beneath him. He pulled back, brushing his nose against mine with his eyes shut tight.

“Do you want my fingers?” He asked me softly.

“I do.” I nodded. “My fingers are too small and I can never get the angle right when I try.”

“Fuck, pea.” He groaned, opening his eyes. “You’re killing me, my love.”

“Just want to love you.” I pouted my bottom lip out. “Wanna feel good.”

“I know, darling.” He sponged a few soft kisses over my hairline. “Let me get on my back, okay. I want you to ride my fingers.”

Harry wrapped his arms around my body, turning onto his back. I fumbled, my chest pressed tightly to his as he let one of his hands trail over my bum. I whimpered when he tucked his fingers between the crease of my bum and my thigh, brushing the pads of his fingers over my lower lips. His other hand maneuvered its way between our bodies, his thumb brushing swiftly over my clit before it dipped towards my entrance.

“S’this okay?” He asked. “You feel comfortable?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m good.”

He inserted his thumb, pulling it out quickly before he slipped it back up to my clit.

He rubbed soft circles over it as his fore and middle finger brushed over my entrance in a teasing manner.

I rolled my hips, desperate to have them inside of me.

“Yeah, just like that.” He said gruffly. “Ride my fingers, sweet pea. Take what you want from me.”

I gasped when he pushed two fingers into me, my slick walls stretching around them as I moved my hips. I pushed down as Harry curled his fingers up, stroking over that spongy spot inside of me. I moved my hips up, his fingers sliding out slowly before I fucked back onto them. He cooed, brushing the pad of his thumb over my clit in quick circles.

“You’re so tight, Piper.” He whispered into my hairline as I gripped onto his shoulders. “You’re clenching my fingers so tight.”

“Feels so good, Harry.” I whimpered. “Wanna cum.”

“Are you close?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “My girl is so greedy, isn’t she? Gonna cum before I properly fuck her with my fingers becuase she wants it so bad, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” I gasped against his throat. “I need to cum, Harry. It feels so good and I can’t...I need it, baby. Please let me cum.”

“Take it.” He said, sliding his free hand up to my hip. “Take it from me, Piper. Make yourself cum for me sweet pea.”

I felt my thighs clamping as he pressed harder against my clit, my hips stilling against his hand as he stroked that spongy spot inside of me. I felt my walls clenching down around his digits, my whole body warm as my mouth fell open. It was better than any orgasm I had ever experienced on my own and it had me crying out into the skin of his neck. He brushed his hand up my back, slowly slipping my fingers out as I started to come down.

“You’re so good.” he whispered. “That was perfect, darling. Did so well for me, didn’t you, pea?”

“That was nice.” I mewled. “Thank you, thank you-”

“Gonna treat you so good tomorrow, darling.” He promised, a sharp edge to his voice. “Gonna spend hours with my head between those pretty thighs and then I’m gonna fuck you like you want. Gonna have you screaming for me, sweet pea.”

I whimpered into his neck, nodding.

“I want that.” I whispered.

My eyes felt heavy as he started to pull my pants back up.

“I love you so much, H.” I whispered, my eyes slipping shut as he covered me up. “Love you, darling.”

“I love you more, pea.” he whispered. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I drifted off to the sound of Harry’s voice, my face snuggling into his shirt.

This was all I ever needed.

#kaylee i hope you like this #stellarboystyles3years #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles frat au #harry styles frat boy #harry smut #harry writing #harry fluff #fray boy au #best friend #friends to lovers #bff!harry #fratboy!harry

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coffeechangbeanie · 4 years

Text

Home Reading 18+

Dilf!Chan, biker!chan, kindergarten teacher!reader

Basically Chris' daughter is in your kindergarten class, and you've been simping whenever he pulls up on his motorbike to pick her up. Plus he's tattooed because I have n e e d s ok? There's a bit of pussy slapping and dirty talk but it's pretty vanilla.

__________________________________

You were standing outside the school, making sure your kindergarten class stayed in line. As the bus pulled up to the side if the road, your kindergarten assistant took her line of bus kids to that side of the parking lot, giving you a lovely view of the parent parking lot. Especially one parent in particular. You composed yourself as you saw Mr. Bang pull up in his motorcycle, his daughter, Yuna, excitedly jumped up and down, accidentally hitting another girl. The girl starts to cry, hitting Yuna back. Hiding your annoyance, you knelt down to Yuna, "Yuna, remember, keep control of your hands." Yuna sheepishly nods. "And Suzie we know not to hit our friends back-"

"Ms. Yn?" A deep voice says behind you, interupting your teacher speech.

You turn around, standing up to see Chris.

His black leather jacket hangs off his shoulders exposing just enough of the head of his surpent tattoo on his neck for you to wonder how far the snake went down his body.

"Ah, Mr. Bang, did you get my email?"

"yes I did, where are we having this impromptu parent teacher meeting?" He says, adjusting his helmet under his arm, a much smaller, sparkly pink one tucked inside.

You see your assistant coming back up the sidewalk. "Right now if ms. Chaeyoung wouldnt mind taking over."

"of course! Go have your meeting," she says, taking your clipboard from you.

You lead the way back inside to you classroom.

The room's walls are lined with students drawings, crafts, and pictures. A whiteboard with the day's letter still up.

"Mr. Bang, today marks the 3rd week her home reading isn't done. In class she's unfocused, hyperactive, and disruptive, I'd like to work with you so we can help her succeed."

Chris rubs his eyes defeatedly, "it's been a tough few weeks, I'll get on the home reading and speak to her about her behaviour."

"thank you, Mr. Bang."

He nods, awkwardly leaving your classroom. You watch him exit the building from the window. Happily picking up Yuna and putting on her helmet for her. He carries her out the his bike as she sits atop his shoulders. You can't help but smile at the cuteness.

It had been a few weeks since your meeting with Chris about Yuna, but you couldn't get the thought of him out if your head. (Not that you could normally, but it was especially bad lately). You know you shouldn't be thinking about one if your student's parent that way but you'd never seen a ring in his finger and Yuna never talked about her mom on the "draw your family" art project...

You were out walking your dog through the playground, the late afternoon sun hanging low in the sky. You hear children giggle as they played.

"Ms. yn!" You look up to see Felix, a parent of another of your students, sitting in a park bench next to Chris. You do a double take when you catch a blush rising up his cheeks.

"Mr. Lee, Mr. Bang," you say, your dog preoccupied with a smell under the bench, "lovely evening for the park innit?"

Felix checks his watch, "speaking of, it's almost dinner time."

"tell your wife I say 'hi'" Chris calls after Felix who's helping his little girl pack up her toys.

"always do!" Felix calls back.

Chris laughs. It's such a genuine laugh, almost like a giggle.

You found yourself fascinated with the sound.

"something on my face?"

You snap out if your daze, "sorry, I just wasn't expecting your laugh to sound like that," you try to laugh away the awkwardness.

It seems to work as Chris relaxes his shoulders, loosening up. He laughs again. The sight of his crinkled eyes as he looks at you makes your heart swell.

"I know it's rather sudden," Chris inhaled sharply, "but would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow? Yuna's having a sleepover at Felix's since it's a Friday-"

"I'd love to!" You cut off his rambling.

"really!?" He asks excitedly with wide eyes.

"yeah I thought you'd never ask," you laugh, "is 7 o'clock a good time?"

"I'll see you then," he says, grinning from ear to ear.

You walk up a set of concrete steps, seeing Chris' bike on the drive as you approach the front door.

The door opens before you have a chance to raise your hand to knock.

Chris looks stunningly sifistocated in his white button up and black jeans, hair styled curly as he invites you inside. He asks to take your coat, more than happy to show off your backless red dress.

"wow," he breaths, taking in the sight.

You smile, "you don't look half bad yourself."

He has a classy dinner already laid in on his dinning room table.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find a table cloth."

"I don't mind at all," you say, smiling at Yuna's drawings etched into the wood.

Chris pulls out a chair for you, you sit down, thanking him. From this angle you have a good view into an office. You notice a stack of books and recording equipment piled on a desk

"what's the books for?" You ask.

"hm? Oh! Just my university stuff," he says, serving you.

"what are you studying?"

"music production, because I hate working so low down in the company."

You listen to him talk about his degree, how he's been studying for his finals the last few weeks, his job now and Yuna. He fills you in on all the adorable, sweet, and cheeky things his little girl has done. You see the sparkle in his eyes and can't help but reciprocate, she really is a sweet kid.

You find him fascinating in everyway. But your mind wanders a bit, he is also irresistibly sexy with his dark curls in his eyes and shirt showing a bit too much skin. The fact that you're sitting across from him now is enought to make your core wet.

"-sorry I don't mean to talk so much, I just rarely get the chance to have adult conversations, you know living with a 5 year old and what not- and here I go again rambling." He sheepishly resumes eating his dinner.

"not at all! I love listening to you!"

"really?"

"yeah," you say, a bit too breathy.

"that's good," he says staring at your lips. You hadn't realized you'd been biting your bottom one. You decide to bite the bullet instead and press your foot to his crotch. His body goes pliant in his chair for a moment before he silently puts his fork down.

He looks at you, searching your gaze before a dark lustful look comes over him.

He picks up his fork again, "the bedroom is the last room on the left hallway," he says, finishing his last bite of food.

Youve hardly processed his sentence when he speaks again.

"Did you hear me baby girl?"

You nod rapidly, standing up with weak knees going down the hallway.

You find the bedroom. You're inside for less than a second when Chris pushes you against his bedroom wall, kissing you deeply.

"How about you strip for me, let me see how much you want me." He's hardly finished his sentence when you're pulling off your clothes. You struggle to get out of your dress in your eagerness, eventually draping it over a nearby chair, kneeling on the floor, looking up eagerly at him.

"no bra," he breaths, his eyes fucking you.

Chris takes his sweet time unbuttoning his shirt. You can't help but ogle at the sight. Your eyes find the serpent, following it down his chest, the end of its tail still tucked behind his black jeans.

Chris continues the show, slowly dropping his pants and stepping out of them.

So it ends at his knee. You think to yourself.

You can see his leaking dick pressed painful hard against his underwear. Your mouth waters at the sight.

"close your mouth, darling. You'll catch flies." He grins, voice like silk.

"maybe you should close my mouth for me," you test.

He smirks, running the pad of his thumb against your bottom lip.

You take that as permission to pull his boxers down.

"you gonna be a good girl and take all my cock?" He asks smugly.

You nod, stroking his length, leaving kitten licks on his tip.

Chris groans, "feels so good, Yn."

You take his whole length into his mouth, taking him by surprise. he accidentally bucks his hips into your warm mouth.

He moans seeing you choke on his cock for a second.

Chris mumbles an apology as he rest his hand in your hair, feeling the way you bob your head up and down on his thick length.

You bask in his elicit moans, feeling smug knowing you're the one on your knees for him, not any of your co-workers or single moms. You.

He suddenly pulls your head off him. You whine in response. Chris guides you back to your feet, pulling your body against his.

"that was fun baby girl, but now it's your turn," he whispers into your neck, his hard-on dripping against your thigh.

Chris picks you up, tossing you effortlessly on the bed, he kisses down your neck to your boobs, giving each a gentle squeeze before continuing his ministrations down your body. He gives special attention to your thighs, avoiding where you want him most. You catch his drift.

"please Chris, please touch my pussy" you whine.

Chris moans, "such a dirty girl."

"please," you whine again.

Chris lightly brushes his fingers over your womanhood, just barely missing your clit.

You groan in annoyance.

"touch me harder, Chris please!"

He lands a harsh but not painful slap on your dripping cunt. You moan, gripping his bicep as a wave of pleasure hits you.

"like that, baby girl?"

You nod rapidly.

Chris kisses your pussy lips, before slapping you again, you don't have time recover when he lands a third.

Chris presses his tongue against your clit. You watch his eyes flutter closed as he eats you out like he didn't just finish dinner.

He inserts 2 fingers, making you scream in pleasure.

He pistons his fingers in and out of your soaked heat while sucking harshly on your clit.

It quickly becomes too much, you come on his fingers with a moan of his name

Chris doesn't stop, he slows down while you ride out your orgasm but picks up the pace when you start squirming.

After your third orgasm, pulls his fingers out, you whine in protest.

"I can't take it anymore," he groans, whipping a drawer open and cracking a fresh box of condoms.

You watch his fingers, still slick with your come open the wrapper.

"first time using one of these," he nervously giggles when he catches your gaze.

You take the condom from him, sliding it down his thick length. His erection twitching in your hand.

You sense the anxiety in the air.

You lay on your back, pulling him on-top.

"fuck me Chris," you moan.

He groans as he guides his dick in you.

You moan when he bottoms out.

He starts off slow, letting you feel all of his length. As he gains confidence, he quickens his pace until you're screaming his name.

He slows his thrusts just long enough to make you squirm before his hips resume pistoning in you. The pleasure knocking the wind out of you.

"feels so good, Chris," you moan, tangling a hand in his hair. Your other hand moving down his back, feeling his back muscles flex with every jerk of his hips.

"fuck Yn, I'm going to come."

You've lost the ability to speak, responding only by moaning.

You both come at the same time, feeling him relax onto you.

After a moment of heavy breathing and gentle kisses later, Chris pulls out. He throws out the condom standing up. He pulls one of his clean black tees over your exhausted form. He tucks you into bed with him.

"that was amazing, Yn, thank you."

"you're very welcome, I thoroughly enjoyed myself," you chime. Chris giggles, his thumb rubbing circles on your thigh.

You laugh, burying your head into the crook of his neck.

He wraps his arms around you as you trace his snake tattoo from his neck down to his side to his leg.

He pulls you into a gentle but passionate kiss, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders.

"can I ask a question, Chris?" You ask between kisses.

"shoot."

"what happened to Yuna's mom?"

Chris took a deep breath, you cringed at yourself for letting curiousity get the better of you.

"she was a fling in my senior year of high school, when she got pregnant and didn't want the baby, I said I'd take her. Yuna's never met her mom."

"I didn't know, I'm so sorry."

"don't be." He smiled, "I think you'd make a much better mom for her."

"really?"

"if that's what you want!" Chris rushed, realizing what he just said.

"that is what I want," you say, kissing his lips.

"does that mean you'll do her home reading for me?"

You laugh, nodding.

_______________________________________________

Ugh I feel like this is trash lmao I tried. Ive volunteered in kindergarten before so I tried to make the dialogue work but idk if it did, I wrote this instead of sleeping. It's also been a very long time since I've written in "novel" format since I'm practicing screenplays rn oof so I'm sorry if this sucks. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed! And thank you to @lovebini for the giggling suggestion!

-Elle

#stray kids bang chan smut #stray kids smut #chan stray kids #chan smut #dilf chan

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gladerwolfstarkimagines · 3 years

Text

Mesmerised: Mai x female reader - Imagine being a singer and capturing the attention of the stoic knife expert herself.

Mai’s POV

Mai had never liked singing.

Ever.

She found every singer hurt her ears or was just dreadfully dull. She was sure music was the most over-rated form of art....until she heard you sing.

Mai was truly perplexed and intrigued by her fondness for your singing, it was almost unantural the effect it had on her and Mai had no idea why it affected her so much. She had been walking home one day when your voice drifted out from a cafe. It had tugged at her and she found herself slowing down. She’d never heard a voice like yours. There was something so appealing about it, something so...emotion-provoking, Mai actually felt something stir in her. This had never happened to her and Mai was both surprised and alarmed at the sensation. She carried on walking and shrugged it off but you lingered on her mind. She wondered who sang like that and why she hadn’t heard that song before. It was comforting and beautiful but she knew she had never experienced anything like it before. Your voice played over and over again in her head until finally, Mai gave in. She walked back to the cafe at the same time the next day and ordered a drink. She noticed there was a stage so she took a seat with a good view and waited. As time ticked by she was ready to leave and abandon her fool's errand when you appeared. When she saw you she just knew you were that beautiful voice. Sure enough, when you started to sing the same sensation swept over her, she felt an odd array of emotions and was transfixed by every word. She finally got what people meant when they said music moved them and she liked it. But this new sensation only applied to your music specifically. She realised with an abrupt reminder as the next artist began to perform that she still hated all other music and so she sought yours out to pinpoint exactly what it was that she liked. She came back to the same cafe the next night and then the next and before long she had your schedule memorised. She also learnt the other places you sang at and went to them too. She was slowly becoming a stalker or groupie or something but she still hadn’t figured out what it was that transfixed her and so she came back night after night just to listen to you.

Your POV

You sang at an array of fire nation cafes but even with the hundreds of bars and cafes in the fire nation capital it was difficult to make ends meet. But you’d sought a creative career in a country that favoured efficiency and concrete solutions, what did you expect? You really were a dreamer. You’d noticed this girl had been in the main cafe you sang at every single night you’d been there. Maybe it was just a coincidence and she came here every night anyway but you noticed her in the crowd a lot and hoped she was here for you. She was so mysterious and impressive. She just looked cool and emanated power dressed from head to toe in long black clothes lined sparsely with red. She was very beautiful and you wondered more and more about her every day, what her story was, where she was from, what she did for a living, just everything and anything about her. One day you got your wish.

You stepped outside the bar after a successful gig and there was the girl. She was waiting on the corner yards away from you. She turned as you came outside and your breath caught in your throat. You looked at one another and she stared at you. Her eyes were concentrated and serious adding to her mysterious powerful persona. You blushed at her intense gaze and looked away. She darted her eyes away too but you noticed she kept glancing back over at you. She stepped towards you when suddenly a pink blur appeared. "Mai!" the pink girl cried and she wrapped her arms around her.

So her name was Mai?

You smiled, it suited her.

Mai’s POV

"I’ve missed you so much" Ty lee cried still hugging her and Mai let her having learned a long time ago the easiest thing to do was just let Ty lee hug you. "It’s only been a day since we last saw each other" Mai replied dryly."Well you’re so great i missed you even after that amount of time" Ty lee cried kissing Mai’s cheek. Mai rubbed at it annoyed, she didn’t want you getting the wrong idea and thinking Ty lee was her girlfriend. She looked back to see if you were watching and found your spot empty. You’d left. "Is everything okay?". Ty lee asked noticing Mai was staring and she nodded "yeah it’s fine, let's go" and they made their way home.

“We’re home!” Ty lee called as the door swung open and Suki appeared in the corridor “Mai! How was your visit to your family?”. “Boring” she shrugged before pausing “Tomtom is getting so big now” she smiled softly. Suki nodded “I bet! I thought your ship got in at 6?”. “It did, I swung by the lavender inn”. Suki frowned “again? You’ve been going there a lot" she commented and Mai shrugged "i like it there". "Why? It’s not that nice a place" Ty lee frowned and Mai paused "i...i like the staff". When Suki and Ty lee hesitated Mai rushed to cover her back "they serve me quickly, have my order memorised and leave me alone for hours, it’s bliss". Mai could hardly tell them she actually went to lots of different cafes and bars because of a girl and not just any girl but a singer! She knew they’d tease her endlessly for liking a girl so unlike herself and Mai had berated herself over that but she couldn’t help it. You were simply her guilty pleasure and she had no intention of letting you go.

1 day later

Mai showed up at your usual place the next day and took her regular seat. She was relaxed and ready to hear your music when another girl walked on stage instead. She introduced herself and began to sing. Mai frowned, where were you? She wondered if maybe this girl was the warm-up act but as time stretched on Mai wasn’t so sure. More than a little disappointed Mai discreetly made her way towards the exit. A door leading to the back room opened and Mai heard an argument within. She paused as she recognised your voice. Mai stood casually by the door and listened to what she could hear. You were arguing with someone and it appeared to be over your wages. "I can get more money if I bring in more singers!" a man said and Mai heard you sigh “I’ve had this spot for a year! You can’t just half it, I rely on tips, this will kill my takings”. “That’s not my problem” the man retorted “you either perform here for half the time or go find somewhere else, singers are easy to replace, there are hundreds of performers exactly like you”. You laughed “no there’s not but good look finding one! You can stuff your slot!” you cried and before Mai could react you stormed out from the door past her and exited the cafe. Mai paused and waited an appropriate amount of time before following you. She looked around and saw you’d walked away from the cafe a few feet before you sat on the pavement your head in your hands. Mai watched you, clearly upset, and wondered what she should do...despite her better judgement Mai approached you. "Hey" Mai said and you paused and looked up. "I saw you storm out of the cafe...are you okay?". You nodded your head, your eyes darting over her "i’m fine i just got fired...or quit? I don’t know" you shook your head and Mai frowned. "Well it’s their loss, you're the best performer here". You glanced at Mai curiously "i am?". Mai nodded "i’ve heard you sing quite a few times and nobody sounds like you or does your style...they’ll regret it". You smiled "i have seen you around before and the other night on the corner with your girlfriend!". Mai paused and cursed Ty lee. "That was me but Ty lee isn’t my girlfriend, i don’t have a girlfriend...at least not yet" Mai said and cringed at herself. She wanted you to know she was single and that she liked girls but she’d been so obvious! You chuckled slightly and Mai’s blush rose. "Good to know, your names Mai right?". Mai nodded her head. "My names y/n, it’s nice to finally meet you". Mai smiled "it is". Your eyes met and you looked away first blushing slightly which aided the recovery of Mai’s ego a little. "Can i ask you something?" Mai said fuelled by her burst of confidence. You nodded and she took a breath "so i hate singing, any form of music basically makes me sick to my stomach but i don’t hate yours, I don’t even dislike it!". You paused before smirking "thank you?". "No that didn’t come out right...what i meant was i like your music better than anyone else's and i’ve honestly never heard anyone sing the way you do, so my question is what's your inspiration? Why do you sing so differently?". You paused, that was a big question and you weren’t sure where to start. “Well I mean I’ve always liked to sing, music was my favourite lesson in school but I found there were too many restraints on it! Don’t move when you’re singing, don’t stray from the century-year-old anthems, don’t add any personality to it...” you sighed “I always found it so odd and cruel that we weren’t allowed to just express ourselves but nobody else seemed to, they all called me odd for wanting to sing in a different key or learn a different song. I didn’t fit in with the conventional music...so i quit music classes and practised music in my own way, I found a library book of old songs from before firelord Azulon’s era, apparently they were deemed too unconventional and weak for traditional fire nation custom but I loved them! The songs weren’t harsh or imposing, they were delicate but powerful, emotional but liberating! After I learnt all of those I decided to make more. I’ve developed hundreds of adaptations but the style stayed the same because it feels so free and creative, so un-fire nation. So long story short i guess my style is so different because i rebel against anything that fits with fire nation tradition. I know it’s sacrilegious" you grinned "but i sometimes feel so trapped by all our customs and rules...singing is my rebellion". Mai smiled and you blushed as silence settled "i bet that sounds so overdramatic". Mai shook her head "i know a little about rebelling against the fire nation, it makes sense. It makes me like you...i mean your music even more" Mai said going red. She heard you chuckle under your breath and cursed herself. You went to speak when a voice called out your name. You stood up and waved to the figure "my ride is here". Mai looked down the street where a girl was waiting for you and frowned. She’d embarrassed herself enough so why not push a little more? "Ow...your girlfriend?". You smiled at Mai’s not so subtle question and looked at her "no Loren is just a friend. I don’t have a girlfriend...at least not yet" you said mimicking her earlier response and Mai blushed. "Good to know" Mai said copying you and you smiled at her. "So i should go but it was really nice talking to you Mai, I’ll hopefully see you around?". Mai nodded "yeah I hope so too" and with a smile, you disappeared.

Mai was in excellent spirits when she got home. Not only had she talked to you but she’d flirted (well an attempt at flirting) and she was fairly sure you flirted back. However the best thing was you liked girls and currently didn’t have a girlfriend. Mai kept replaying the smirk on your face when you said “not yet” and was ashamed at the light blush it caused. Things couldn't have gone better and hopefully she’d see you again soon.

Man I love Mai!

She’s in my top 3 for Avatar characters but I find her quite hard to write for because half of her scenes revolve around Zuko so it’s hard to write for her alone when we’ve got so little Mai content!

But either way, this idea came to when I was listening to this classical Chinese song titled 芒种 by 音阙诗听 & 赵方婧 and it’s honestly the most beautiful song i’ve ever heard so I’d really recommend giving it a listen a https://youtu.be/8L2ds1XxrvA. I always have one song on repeat for every imagine I write but this song totally inspired this whole piece and this is how I imagine the reader sings.

Life story over, I hoped you enjoyed the soft cute Mai content!

#mai #mai x reader #mai imagine #atla mai #avatar mai #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender mai #ty lee #suki #fire nation #atla ty lee #atla suki #avatar ty lee #avatar suki #ozais angels

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botherkupo · 4 years

Text

catouflage (marichat oneshot)

here’s my piece for @kittylovezine vol. 2. which i hope you’ll enjoy. Check out the other fics and art, too! some really amazing stuff!

summary: In which Chat Noir takes up gatecrashing, someone needs to call the fashion police, and marichat are the new couple goals. (aka, marichat at the beach 2: electric boogaloo)

Marinette dug her toes into the sand, wriggling them deeper to feel the warmth of the sun-kissed beach. She propped her chin on her knees. One hand played with a shell, tracing the swirls of patterns and the curved spiral. Her expression could only be described as glum.

“Marinette!”

Chat Noir bounded over. She took one look at him and blinked. Her cheeks puffed out, laughter spilling free of her lips.

“What are you wearing?” she asked.

He struck a pose, placing one hand behind his head and the other on his hip. “My catouflage. I’m blending in.”

“You call that blending?”

He had a ridiculous floppy hat on his head, the kind with the flap that covered the whole back of the neck. Giant sunglasses hid his cat-green eyes. Then there were the boardshorts and a green, pineapple-printed Hawaiian shirt he had pulled over his suit. It was the ugliest combination she had seen.

“My eyes hurt just looking at you,” she said, pulling a face.

“It’s called fashion.”

“More like call the fashion police.”

His teeth flashed in a grin and he plopped down next to her under the umbrella. “Anyway, why are you hiding over here by yourself?”

She stiffened. “I’m not hiding.”

“You haven’t joined in with us either.” Concern tinged his voice. “Is everything okay?”

She lowered her gaze. “Just a bit disappointed, I guess.”

“Why?”

“Because … Adrien …”

“Adrien?” He sat up straighter. “What about him?”

She picked up a handful of sand and let it slip through her fingers. “He was so excited about coming to the beach. Plus, we hardly get to see him outside of school. I just … it would have been nice to spend more time with him.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder. “You’re a good friend, Marinette. I’m sure he’d be happy if he knew you were thinking of him.”

Fresh colour dusted her cheeks and she tugged at one of her pigtails. “You think so?”

“Most definitely.”

She smiled, wide and bright.

“Dudes!” Nino called, waving at them. “Over here! We’re gonna play beach volleyball, and you’re both on my team!”

Chat Noir grinned at her. “You ready to kick some butt?”

She accepted his proffered hand. “Of course.”

oOo

The volleyball game had barely started before Chat Noir’s claw popped the inflatable ball.

“Oops,” Chat said.

Kim and Alix glanced at the deflated ball and then at him. It was like all the stages of grief passed over their faces. Chat Noir shrunk into his shoulders like a turtle trying to escape into a shell.

“I can buy a new one?” he offered.

Kim and Alix just stared at him. Grief time had passed, and now there was only murder in their eyes.

“Ah,” Marinette said, grabbing Chat’s arm. “How about we go see if we can find a replacement ball? I’m sure I saw a shop …”

She tugged him away.

“Do you think they’re really mad?” he asked, shoulders still hunched.

“Oh yeah. They had a big bet going on. I think it’s best you steer clear of them for a while.”

Chat Noir gulped. “Gotcha.”

oOo

They did manage to find a ball in the end. Chat Noir didn’t want to risk ruining their game again, so he opted out. Marinette offered to keep him company. That was how they ended up building a sandcastle together farther from the group.

It was kind of adorable watching Chat Noir. He was like a little kid who had been let loose after months of convalescing and being cooped inside. His smile was pure sunshine. His laugh was a frequent, joyful sound, and he took great delight in collecting shells for their castle.

“We need a moat!” he exclaimed. “Oh, oh, and a drawbridge and—”

A tiny giggle escaped her.

“What?” he said, tilting his head.

“Nothing. I just never expected you to get this excited over making a sandcastle.”

Pink spilled out from under his mask. He scratched the base of his neck and looked the other way. “Is it really so weird?”

“No …”

“Why do I feel like you’re just saying that to make me feel better?”

“No, no, I swear I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.” She smiled and shrugged. “It’s actually kind of cute.”

His nose scrunched. “I would have preferred cool, amazing and debonair, but I guess I can take cute.”

She snorted. “You really think anyone is going to be calling you cool and debonair in that outfit?”

“Stop hating on my catouflage.”

“It’s horrible, and you know it.” She snatched the floppy hat from his head, letting his cat ears spring free. “Where did you even find this thing?”

“Second-hand store.”

“Of course. And of course you would choose this out of all the hats on display.”

“Hey, if you’re gonna gatecrash someone’s beach party, might as well make a statement while you do it.”

She laughed, shaking her head. He was so silly sometimes.

He took the hat from her hands and placed it on her head.

“Hey! Don’t put that thing on me!”

“C’mon, Marinette, it looks great on you!”

“Noooo!”

They had a brief, playful struggle as she tried to get the hat off and he tried to keep it on. Of course he wasn’t using even a fraction of the strength the miraculous gave him. He would have won in a second.

“Fine,” she declared dramatically, holding her arms out in surrender. “Do your worst, Chat Noir.”

He grinned and dressed her up in the awful hat, sunglasses and Hawaiian shirt. Then they took selfies on her phone, taking turns with the hat or glasses, and pulling silly faces. At one point, he had his arms wrapped around her from behind. He wore the ugly hat and rested his chin on her head. She had the glasses low on her nose and the Hawaiian shirt open over her bikini. Both of them were pulling exaggerated, sultry expressions.

“Chat Noir! Chat Noir!”

A swarm of fans converged, pressing in close.

“Is that your girlfriend?”

“Can I get a picture of you two?”

“Ahhh, look how cute they look! Couple goals!”

Chat Noir’s hand moved to cradle her face into his chest, hiding her from view so the fans couldn’t get any closeup photos of her. “Sorry,” he said. “No photos today.”

There was a chorus of awws before, after a few more polite rebuffs from Chat Noir, the fans reluctantly moved on.

He let her go immediately, his expression sheepish. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” she said with a shrug, though her cheeks were frustratingly hot. “It’s not the first time I’ve been mistaken for a famous person’s girlfriend.”

For some reason, he winced. “Right. Sorry.”

Awkward silence settled between them. His shoulders were still slumped, giving him the appearance of a drooping, withered flower. Had the fans bothered him that much? Or was he worried that he had ruined her beach trip?

She nudged his arm with her shoulder. “Hey, wanna finish the sandcastle?”

The light returned to his eyes, and he shot up with a grin. “Yes!”

They knelt beside each other and dug their fingers into the sand to create the moat. The bridge was trickier, but they managed to find some sticks to give the illusion of a drawbridge.

“Marinette,” he said once it was finished, his tone as reverent as if he were a father seeing his newborn baby for the first time. “Look at it. It’s beautiful.”

She laughed. “It’s not bad.”

“We have to give it a name.”

“Huh?”

“A name! This is our creation!”

She shook her head, giggling. “Fine, fine. What shall we call our castle?”

He made a humming sound and tapped his chin. “How about … Chat Dupain-Cheng Castle?”

“Come again?”

“What? I think it has a nice ring.”

Her cheeks warmed. “Umm, it’s just … it kinda sounds like … you’re married to me.”

“Oh.” A blush spread all over his face where the mask didn’t cover. “Right.”

Another awkward pause.

“What about Sandybridge Castle?” she suggested.

“Sounds great.”

“Great.”

He held out his fist. She bumped it with hers. Neither met the other’s gaze.

oOo

It was time to pack up and head to the train station. Marinette rummaged around the wet, sandy towels, hunting for the sunblock she had misplaced.

“Here,” Chat Noir said, holding it out to her. “It somehow got in Rose’s bag.”

“Thanks.”

She finished packing her bag and zipped it up. Chat stayed by her, fidgeting with his glove.

“Um, Marinette?” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I just wanted to thank you.”

Her brow creased and she stood up. “For what?”

“I haven’t been able to go to the beach for a long time, and you really made it fun for me today. So thanks.”

He pulled her into a hug, unexpected and warm. She froze in surprise before relaxing into his arms. The softest of smiles curved her lips.

“Anytime, Chat.”

#ml #miraculous ladybug #kittylovezine #marichat #my writing

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sprnklersplashes · 3 years

Text

songwriter!janis fic (unrequited crush, no-very-happy-ending)

also on ao3

It all started because she loved Taylor Swift when she was in middle school. Who is she kidding, she still loves Taylor Swift, but that’s where all this began. A middle school girl’s obsession with Taylor Swift. A confused, sad girl with a broken heart and smudged black eyeliner, finding refuge in lyrics about loneliness and anger and revenge. They became anthems for her, mantras to mutter when the warzone of middle school became too much for her.

“Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city, and all you’re ever gonna be is mean.”

“Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

“I can still see you, this ain’t the best view.”

It amazes her. It’s honestly as if Taylor Swift has managed to look into her life and given her a bundle of songs for whatever she needs. For when Regina has thrown her one too many snide looks, for when she’s standing at the door of North Shore High on her first day, for when she eats lunch alone, for when her mom is the best mom she could have asked for, for when she and Damian are lying on the grass in her backyard, staring up at the sky, laughing at absolutely nothing. The songs become the soundtrack to her life, the chords and those raw, honest lyrics an emotional outlet she so desperately craves. Taylor, and her songs, become a confidant, almost a close friend who always knows what to say.

With all that in mind, perhaps it was only a matter of time before she asks for a guitar for Christmas. She’s fourteen, braces and a slight lisp, and jumps up and down like a mad woman when she sees it under the tree.

She practices for three days straight, until her fingers bleed, but Should’ve Said No is the first song she learns off by heart. She yells the lyrics with maybe a little too much passion, but her parents applaud her nonetheless.

Like she said, that’s how it all started.

Because that same Christmas, she realises that screaming her feelings while playing guitar actually feels pretty cathartic. And that if it worked for Taylor Swift, it could work for her. So she writes stuff down, plays around with chords and strumming until the beat on the guitar matches the one in her head. She grabs a page and a pencil and writes and re-writes her innermost thoughts and feelings on the page until they sound the way she wants them to. She plays around with rhyme schemes and structure and everything she’s been taught about in English class, and a thrill runs through her as she does so. It’s the same breathless high she feels when she paints or draws, the rush that comes from creating something.

Her parents sit on the other side of her bedroom door, no doubt exchanging worried glances as she repeats the same verse, same chorus, with only a word changed. She watches them when they think she can’t see, peering through the crack in her door. The conclusion they seem to come to is ‘well, as coping mechanisms go, it’s pretty good, and she’s happy, so who are we to stop it?’.

It takes her four days to finish her first song. And it sucks. But she keeps it, writes down the lyrics and chords in one of the few empty notebooks she has, and there’s no going back from it now. She writes, and she writes, and she writes, near enough every day. She likes to think she gets better with each one. She learns more chords, buys a cheap ukulele the summer after freshman year, tries her hand at piano during a particularly difficult few weeks. She doesn’t plan on doing anything with them. They’re just her little pieces to hold on to. Her therapy sessions outside the carpeted office.

No-one knows about it. She has a reputation to keep up, after all. The loner-by-choice, too-cool-for-school, aloof art freak. Everyone has their roles to play in the ecosystem that is high school and, much as she hates the entire system, that is hers to play. And she plays it well, if she may say so. The fact that hardly anyone knows her past that facade suits her just fine. After all, if people think she doesn’t care, she can’t get hurt. No-one needs to know that Janis Sarkisian actually has feelings.

Even less need to know that she writes songs about said feelings.

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By the time she reaches her junior year, she’s onto her third notebook. She keeps them tucked away in her sock drawer, expertly hidden so only she can find them. Damian teases her about it, calling her “the protagonist of a Disney Channel Original Movie”. She just rolls her eyes and reminds him that “if either of us is gonna be Disney’s first openly gay character, it’ll be you”. He can’t argue with that.

It should be noted that when Janis said that no-one knows about her songwriting, Damian was the obvious exception. He found out just weeks after she started. There’s no keeping secrets from him.

Between all her notebooks, she’s written around forty songs.

Then she meets Cady Heron one day. The human embodiment of a labrador puppy, complete with wide, lost eyes. She likes her instantly, decides to take her under her wing because Lord knows the girl needs it. Cady’s smile is infectious, her laugh like a summer breeze. She has dimples and caramel-coloured hair and really likes maths.

She meets Cady on a Monday.

By that Saturday, song number 41-titled “Dimples and Curls” is more or less complete.

She plays it for Damian, hands only slightly shaking as she changes chords, the strumming short and upbeat, the melody strangely happy for such a bittersweet song.

He applauds her, but the subject of the song hangs in the air even after she’s played the last chord and the music fades. Unsaid, but not unknown. Just like her songwriting, Janis couldn’t keep a crush from Damian if she tried.

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“Hey, check it out.”

Cady drops onto the seat across from Janis, the whole table shaking as she does so. Like a small meteor just hit Earth. Janis looks up from her lunch, pretending like she had been doing her own thing and not watching the door until Cady came in. Pretending like her stomach doesn’t do little flips at the sight of her crossing the cafeteria. She pulls the flyer towards her and hums in amusement.

“The winter talent show,” she reads before chomping off a carrot stick. “Oh, is it that time of year already?”

“Seems like only yesterday we was welcoming the young’uns into this brave new world during the harvest season,” Damian sighs, putting on a delightfully over the top Southern Belle accent, no doubt influenced by their reading of Streetcar Named Desire in English class. Janis cackles, and nearly chokes on her lunch as she does.

“And now the cold winds of winter are descending upon us,” she replies, her accent equally heavy. She bats her eyes for good measure, because she can and because it makes Cady laugh. “Oh but I pray the children will survive this season, it is often rough for them.”

“I am never showing you two anything winter related ever again,” Cady says.

Janis just shrugs and runs her hand through her hair before her eyes go back to the flyer. Clearly, whatever sophomore they got to design it this year did their best; found the prettiest looking snowflakes on Google Images to put on the cartoon stage, decided to write in some swirling, slanted font rather than the start-studded block lettering they usually went for. It’s still the same as it is every year, meaning just as mockable, but she’ll give them points for tying.

“Well, anyone here going for it?” she asks. She looks from Damian to Cady and back again, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Last year and all that.”

“Not sure I can,” Damian sighs. “I mean, I’m booked up with Spelling Bee rehearsals and spring cabaret auditions happening next semester.” He drums his fingers against his throat. “Gotta give the little vocal chords some rest, you know?”

Janis’ response is to sing the lowest note she possibly can before turning to Cady and giving her a pointed look, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Who? Me?” Cady’s cheeks turned crimson and she shakes her head so much that the caramel curls bounced around her shoulders. “No way. Damian can take the stage, I’m fine with my calculators and textbooks.”

“You could always solve equations in front of everyone,” Janis says. “I could call out college-level questions from the audience and you solve them in under 30 seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she giggles. She leans forward slightly, eyes glittering, and Janis does her best not to squirm. The effect Cady Heron’s eyes have on her should be studied by scientists. “What about you, Janis?”

“I don’t know.” She thinks back to when she helped on stage crew last year, as well as helping out (or taking over) with the set design. It had been fun, the kind of challenge she needed to keep her mind off the slowly-going-off-the-rails plan. And she was told it looked good on her college applications, because all people can think about apparently is college, college, college. “Maybe. They might need another genius stage manager.”

“And you’ll step in if they can’t find one?” She digs Damian in the ribs for that comment.

“But not performing?” Cady asks, and Janis freezes. Performing had never even crossed her mind before. She’s used to backstage, hell, she likes backstage. It’s not that she has stage fright or anything, and if she had, her stunt at Ms Norbury’s little healing session would have squished it. She had just never thought about it.

But Cady had, apparently.

“I-No, I-I don’t think so,” she stammers out. “Um, I might do backstage again, but not actually doing something, you know, talent related.” She bites her tongue and clamps her lips shut before anything else can come out.

“Okay then,” Cady replies slowly. She gets up from the table, her little empty water bottle in her hands. “I’m going to go for a refill, save my seat.”

“No problem,” Janis says, but Cady’s already jogging away.

She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad that Cady’s known her too long to think of her as cool, and so this kind of awkward babbling isn’t really surprising to her. Instead of thinking about it, she just sets her head on the table and lets Damian rub her back.

“You were nowhere near as bad as you think you were,” he assures her.

“Title of your sex tape,” comes her murmured reply. Damian chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair, like she’s his pet cat. It helps.

“So you’re definitely not going for the talent show then?” he asks.

Her first instinct is to say no, because of course she isn’t, because she never has before and she sees no point in breaking a three-year streak, but the answer catches in her throat. At the same time, something begins forming in her brain, pieces of a melody she’s already known, words filling in blank spots in her brain, and her fingers twitch involuntarily, playing the chords on an invisible guitar. Without a word, she grabs a notepad and pen from her bag and scribbles the words down before she forgets them, quickly becoming breathless just by sitting there. She forgets, for a moment, everything else, the talent show, Cady, even Damian next to her, and just revels in the task and the quick buzz she gets just from writing. Just like that she has one eye on the clock, itching to get home and put her notes into the rest of the song.

But with those notes came an idea, an idea so completely out of left field she almost laughs at it.

“Janis?” Damian asks, just slightly unnerved by her. If anyone else were at this table, even Cady (especially Cady), she would have had to excuse herself and run to the bathroom, or just hope the words stayed in her head long enough for her to get a quiet moment. “Did the Goddess of Music just possess you again?”

“Maybe,” is her response. He doesn’t know it, but she answered both the questions he asked in the past minute.

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She sits on her bed that night, her homework half-done and strewn across the desk, abandoned in favour of the guitar sitting in her lap and notebook open on her bed. She’s been working on his song for the better part of a week, inspiration and motivation seemingly striking and then fading whenever she gets a free moment. Abandoning it has crossed her mind-she’s no stranger to abandoning things that aren’t working-but for some reason she hasn’t quite been able to shake this particular song off.

Maybe it is Euterpe, the Goddess of Music, descending upon her because this song has to be finished, it has to be, Olympus willing it so.

Or maybe it’s because this song is one of the most personal things she’s ever written, a love letter she’ll never send, and the idea of it sitting unfinished drives her crazy.

She plays another chord and sings the line again, changing the ending slightly, and makes the adjustment in her notes.

She’s crazy. This is already crazy, her secret double life as a wannabe T-Swift, but now she’s gone beyond that. Thinking of actually playing it. On a stage. In front of people. She doesn’t care what people think of her, she stopped caring about that a long, long time ago, but holy shit what will people think of her after she does this? Life isn’t like the movies, she knows that much. It won’t be some pretty, softly-lit moment where the crowd sits with teary eyes, Cady runs onstage and kisses her and she’s offered a deal by some big shot producer, and they all live happily ever after the end. What could happen is people think she’s even more of a weirdo than they do now.

Or she gets tomatoes thrown at her head and she’s booed off the stage. That’s a possibility.

She calls Damian, because that’s the only way she sees out of her little thought cul-de-sac. She puts the phone on speaker and props it up against a pillow, keeping her hands free for her guitar and her pen. He picks up on the third ring, just as she’s strumming out a G chord.

“Oh, is someone prepping for her Grammy?” he asks. “You’re still taking me as your date, right?”

“Only if my dog can’t go,” she replies. She taps her nails against the wood, the rhythm too fast and frantic to just be a habit. Yes, she can tell Damian anything, and being nervous in front of him is laughable, but sometimes her body forgets that. “So, I was thinking about the talent show.”

“Oh? You’re going for stage crew again? Cool.”

“No-not exactly.” She knows he can’t see the smile creeping across her face, but she’d wager he can hear it through the phone. A small swarm of butterflies flutters in her chest, leaving her just slightly out of breath. “I… I. think I’m going to try performing in it.”

A burst of laughter comes through the phone, slightly tinged with static, and Janis wishes he were here so she could slap him. Even if it’s not malicious in intent at all, and she’s laughing right along with him. Slapping is kind of a love language for them.

“Okay, okay cool. What’re you going to do?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she says, and then she plays the opening chords to her latest experiment. She doesn’t add in the lyrics, not yet. Still, she sits back and basks in his applause when she finishes, cackling into her hand. He might be one person, but he’s got enough enthusiasm to match a packed auditorium. “What do you think?”

“I’m into it,” he tells her. “So… that’s the one you’re doing?”

“Think so.” She tosses the pick between her fingers. Like he could feel her smile, she can feel his raised eyebrow through the phone, the elephant in the room poking her with its trunk. “Yes, I know.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it,” she tells him, and he doesn’t deny it. She looks back over the lyrics she’s written and re-written. Despite some adjustments, it’s still in essence the same. Still about a girl with pretty hair who smells like vanilla and cinnamon, who has a boyfriend and is unknowingly breaking the heart of a girl with black eyeliner and paint stained fingers. Because her boyfriend is pretty and clean and smells like soap and can do math, and how is the poor art girl even meant to compare to that?

“Yes,” she says after a while. “It is about Cady.”

“Aw, my poor lovestruck songstress,” he sighs. He shifts then, and the air shifts with him. “You sure that’s the one you want to sing? I mean you have dozens of other non-Cady related songs. I’m sure Mr Duvall would love to hear Angry Teenage Lesbian Anthem.”

“First off, I gave that one a title, it’s called Shattered,” she reminds him. “And-” She freezes, the rest of her sentence catching in her throat. He’s right. She could perform one of her other songs, that are already finished and therefore removing the pressure to have this one finished, polished and stage-ready. And of course, it would mean she wouldn’t be standing in front of her entire grade and telling them all how badly she’s in love with her best friend. Showing her deepest secret to the people who have already driven her out of school once. It’s a far safer, potentially less traumatic option for her.

But…

“No,” she says. “I know it sounds crazy but I feel like… I feel like I need to do this.” She swallows thickly and picks softly at the guitar strings. “It’s like… like this way at least I’m telling her, you know? Even if she doesn’t know it.”

Of course, Damian gets it.

“That’s beautiful, babe,” he tells her. “So you’re actually doing this?”

“I’m actually doing this,” she replies firmly. “And tomorrow, I need you to make sure I don’t chicken out before I sign up.”

“Got it. I’ll just order you to do it as Senior Co-Chair of the Student Activities Committee.”

“That’s an abuse of power.”

“Then consider yourself abused baby.” He laughs and she laughs with him, and then she hears something on Damian’s end. “I have to go. A certain little sister of mine has a princess costume that needs attending to. See you later.”

“See you later,” she replies before he clicks off the call. She looks down at her paper, then at her guitar, and thinks about what she just committed to. “I’ve got some work to do.”

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The song goes through four rewrites in the weeks leading up to the talent show. The whole first verse is changed, the chorus scrapped and replaced with a new one, then that one is scrapped and she goes back to the old one. She sits hunched on her floor with a pencil in her mouth, wondering if what she’s written is too personal or not personal enough. If it’s too obvious that Cady, smart cookie that she is, will work it out and that’ll lead them down a new, scary path. She cuts some lyrics that give the game away, opting to replace one about love for numbers with love for learning, because that opens up the pool to half their grade. She writes about Cady’s blue eyes rather than specifically those double dimples that make her melt. Maybe she’s compromising her artistic vision, but it might be worth it if it’ll keep her crush a secret. She keeps the old lyrics tucked in the back of her notebook, just to have them.

Meanwhile, she’s also dealing with the fact that people know she has signed up for the talent show. That Miss Too Cool For School Loner Art Freak Janis is actually performing at a school event. And she doesn’t even get extra credit for it. They’re surprised, and curious, and none more so than Cady. The other girl appears at her side almost instantly after first period, skinny little arms wrapped around her bicep and blue eyes alight.

Oh, the things those eyes do to her.

“Janis!” she squeaks. “I saw-on the sign up sheet-your name! Oh my God, is this a joke? Did Damian put you up to it?”

“No, no, I signed up of my own accord,” Janis tells her. That only makes Cady bounce more, ponytail bobbing up and down.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing!” she says. She stops then, her mouth freezing in its place and her cheeks turning pink. Slowly, she comes down to Earth, like a balloon that had the air let out of it. Janis can almost hear the wheeze. “I mean um, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“It’s pretty grool,” Janis replies, and just like that Cady bounces back up again.

“Oh my gosh, what are you going to do?” she asks. “Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“You think I have some secret knife-throwing talent?” she grins. She hesitates for a moment, looking down at Cady’s excited face, because even if this isn’t telling her… it’s telling her. “I’m… I’m going to sing.” She pulls on the strap of her backpack and avoids Cady’s eyes. “Something I wrote.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hey!” she laughs. “I can write stuff. I can be deep.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about it,” Cady says, bumping her arm against Janis’. “But for real, Janis, I can’t wait to see it. I know you’ll be amazing.”

Warmth spreads across her pale cheeks, a pink blush no doubt colouring her face, and she somehow manages to choke out a “thanks” as her brain turns to static. Her only thought is ‘Cady thinks I’m going to be good’, and it’s written in glitter pen across her brain.

“This is going to be great,” she goes on. “Oh, wait until I tell Aaron. He’s got a break in his schedule that week so he’s coming up to see the talent show! Isn’t that great?”

And just like that, Janis’ good mood falls. Her face stays the same, because she’s trained to do it, but everything behind it crumbles.

“Yeah, that’s great,” she replies. Cady squeezes her hand, oblivious, and drags her along the hallway, chatting away about some lion documentary she had watched last night.

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She finishes the song that night. She arrives home with a heavy chest, so full of complicated, messy feelings, and her conversation with Cady still so fresh in her mind, her ears still ringing from the emotional whiplash. Her parents barely get a ‘hello’ as she enters and bolts up to her room, her hands shaking, the thoughts swirling around her brain desperate to be let out.

And let them out she does. She writes so quickly they look more like smudges than words, her fingers flying over rapidly changing chords, her voice broken and panting as she sings. The words almost write themselves, like the song has taken on a life of its own and she’s just along for the ride. She barely remembers to pause, to breathe, so wrapped up in the storm she’s created with just her guitar and pen.

It’s only when she finishes and falls back on her bed that she notices the tears in her eyes. She blinks them away and pulls herself up, her notebook in her hand. It’s done. The perfect blend of her own honest feelings and just enough smokescreen to keep people from knowing who it’s really about.

There’s no backing out now, she thinks. Her stomach drops, like she’s on the top of a roller coaster about to go down. A laugh bubbles up in her throat and leaves her breathless, her head spinning while she’s still laying there.

If holy shit were am adjective, she'd use it to describe how she feels. Because holy shit.

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Being backstage when she’s not on crew is a strange experience. She stands with her guitar slung around her body, in the middle of a current of students moving around her, half with the clunky microphones and walkie-talkies she’s used so many times before. She asks five of them if she can do anything to help-because they’re her people and she needs to do something to occupy her time-until she finally takes the hint and leaves them to it. Stagehands are the most efficient parts of any production, as she told Damian once. They’re a well-oiled machine at this point.

“Yo!” For a second, Janis thinks she imagined the whisper, just one in a jumble of backstage noises, until Damian appears at her side. A tiny ‘shit’ escapes her mouth, her body jerking. Barely anyone bats an eye at her, except him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Don’t worry. I think at this point a small breeze could knock into me and I’d crumble.”

“The great Janis Sarkisian gets nervous?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Only when she’s doing something incredibly personal and scary in front of her entire grade,” she whispers back. She swallows past the lump in her throat. “Aside from that I’m a beacon of confidence and unshakable will.”

“Hey.” He taps his knuckles against hers. “Remember how scared you were at Norbury’s assembly?”

“You mean after I had my picture all over the school with the d-slur written underneath it?” she mutters. “Yeah, I was shitting myself.”

“And yet, look what you did there,” he reminds her. “You were amazing. And you’re going to be amazing here too. Once you get on that stage, all those butterflies are going to make you fly, kid.”

She smiles, her heart warm, and pressed her face into the crook of Damian’s neck.

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky to have him, but she knows better than to tempt fate.

“Janis Sarkisian?” She lifts her head to find a freshman girl with a headset around her neck looking at her. “You’re up next.”

“Okay.” It’s only now she becomes aware that the last minute of Fairytale Of New York is playing, the notes will soon fade out, and that’s her cue. She turns to Damian and lets him straighten her black cardigan and fiddle with the collar of her shirt. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it.” He drops a whisper of a kiss to her nose. “But good luck.”

She holds her half-heart necklace as he goes, the twin to the one around his neck. It’s as close as she can get to having him with her. Her chest tightens as she makes her way to the stage and she tries to breathe through it, because the next thign she knows, Mr Duvall is announcing her name, and she’s being greeted by a blinding spotlight that thankfully obscures most of her peers’ faces.

“Uh, hi,” she says into the microphone placed out for her. It’s just people , she reminds herself. Somewhere in that crowd, second row, seat 14, is Damian, and she breathes easier. And next to him is Cady, the girl this song is about, and for some reason that straightens her spine and irons out the shaking in her voice. She takes the pick out of its holder and tosses her hair back. “This is a song I wrote about being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.” She blinks and hopes no-one sees the tears in her eyes. “So sing along if you get into it, because we all know it’s a shitty ass feeling.”

She plays the first chord, and then any and all doubts she had about this flee her. As cliche as it sounds, the song takes over her, and she blows through the nerves in the first verse. The experience becomes cathartic instead, like releasing a pressure valve on her soul. Even with the little diversions she threw in, she hasn’t felt this open and god damn free since last year, paraded on her peers’ shoulders with both middle fingers up. Except now she’s not flipping anyone off, or proving a point, she’s just finally telling someone how she feels, and holy shit, it’s amazing. Whatever the aftermath of this is, she won’t care, it’s worth it just for this feeling.

As she sings the last word, and that final note rings in the auditorium, her hands are shaking, her cheeks wet with tears and her hair sticky with sweat. She touches beneath her eye and her fingers come away stained black. She hasn’t cried in front of people since middle school. She doesn’t care.

The cheers of her classmates ring in her ears, Damian’s whooping the loudest of all, and as she takes her bow, she hopes she’ll remember this moment for a long time.

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“Oh my God!” she’s barely into the auditorium when Cady launches herself at her, arms wrapped around her neck and legs circling her waist. Janis nearly topples over, digging her back leg into the ground just in time, and hugs Cady with the same ferocity. “You were amazing!” she yells into her shoulder, the sound muffled by Janis’ hair.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” She sets Cady down, but the other girl keeps a tight grip on both her arms. Janis wonders if it’s to keep herself from flying away, given the amount of bouncing up and down she’s doing. “I can’t believe you wrote that! It was so good! You need to record it, Jan. Do you have any other songs?”

“Just a few,” she says. “And I don’t know if I’m in the business of making an album any time soon.” She swings her guitar case a little. “This might have been a one-time thing.”

“Well, even if it was, it was awesome,” she says.

“Thank you, Caddy,” Janis replies. “That means a lot.”

Her mouth runs dry as Cady smiles, all baby pink lipgloss and sparkling eyes and full cheeks. If this were a movie, she thinks, this would be the part where they kiss. No need for talking, or an explanation. Because Cady would have just known. The music would turn soft and twinkly, and the lighting would match it and it would look like they’re in a dream and they’d just kiss, and it will fix all of Janis’ problems. Maybe a single tear will run down her cheek. And then they’ll run off into their new lives as the end credits roll.

How sweet that would be.

But her life isn’t a movie. If she wants anything, she has to go for it herself.

And that includes-

“Caddy.” Her name is delicate on her lips, handled with care. Cady looks at her, giving a simple ‘mm-hm’ in response, and Janis’ heart beats out of control. “That song I just sang, it-”

“Hey, guys.”

Also if this was a movie, Cady’s sweet, lovely, nice boyfriend would not be barging in right now. He’d either be a douchebag who she doesn’t feel bad about hurting, or he’d be nonexistent.

Unfortunately, this is not a movie, and Aaron Samuels exists and is the human equivalent of a squishmallow.

“Hey Aaron.” He slings his arm around Cady’s shoulders, and she leans into his touch almost instinctively. “Janis, you were great up there. I didn’t know you wrote songs.”

“It’s a bit of a new hobby,” she says, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat, and finds a bottle of water being handed to-thrown at-her.

“Hydrate those chords,” is Damian’s greeting.

“This is what I get for being friends with a theatre kid,” she sighs before she takes a drink. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was until now.

“Okay, so we’re all going for pancakes,” Aaron says. “I take it you two are coming?”

“How can I say no to pancakes?” Janis asks. “Uh, you guys go ahead, I have to get my stuff from the green room.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you,” Cady says. “Aaron brought his car so he can drive us.”

“Grool.” Cady and Aaron turn around together, Aaron spinning his eyes around his finger and Cady lacing her fingers through his, talking about something she can’t hear. It’s like watching them through a sheet of glass.

Not a movie. Not unless it’s one of those really, really sad movies. Sad homophobic movies.

“You okay?” Damian asks. She snorts at the question. Nothing has changed, so of course she’s okay. But then, nothing has changed, so she’s not really okay.

“I did it,” she sighs. “It’s out there. I told her, unofficially. Whether or not she works it out…” She runs her hand through her tangled hair. “That’s something else entirely.” Damian hums in agreement, a sympathetic look on his face that soon morphs into a grin.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom.” They snort, Janis caught between a laugh and a sob, and squeezes Damian’s hand. She’s not optimistic about any romance in her future, at least where Cady is concerned. She and Aaron are still rock-solid and she’s happy for them, whenever she isn’t angsting about it. It’s a weird combination to have.

And at least she’s done this now. Despite a future for her and Cady not being in the cards for now, she’s glad she did it. The secret isn’t out, not entirely. Just written on the walls in invisible ink.

“Come on,” she tells Damian. “I actually do have to get my bag, and you can use this as an opportunity to double check the ghost light is on.”

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Cady and Aaron keep their promise and wait for them, waving off their apologies as they jog across the parking lot. Cady lets Damian take the front seat with Aaron and slides into the back with Janis instead. Janis frowns, confused as to why she isn’t taking her normal seat up front, and Cady rolls her eyes.

“There was a draw on the way here, and we lost,” she explains. “And now Damian has control of the aux chord,” She gestures with her head to the passenger seat, and Janis turns just in time to see him open his Spotify and scroll through his playlists. As the opening notes to Waving Through A Window fill the car, it’s met with three loud groans. Damian only turns it up louder, and adds in his own backing vocals.

“So, that song you sang,” Cady asks, leaning back in the seat. “Was it about anyone in particular?”

Janis looks down, her hands pressed together in her lap. If this is the moment the universe decided to give her, it’s a really terrible moment. Not only is Cady’s whole boyfriend sitting an arm’s length away from her, but she left her nerve back in the auditorium. Clearly, her and fate aren’t on each other’s wavelength.

“You wouldn’t know her,” she says. “She doesn't even go here.”

“Oh,” Cady replies. Her face falls, but she’s not too put out by it. Why would she be? She nudges Janis’ shoulder, a proud smile on her face, and squeezes Janis’ hand. “Well, if she has someone like you into her and she hasn’t taken the chance yet, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Janis only thanks her, and quickly changes the subject.

Someday she might tell her for real, but for now she'll stick to the songs.

#mean girls broadway #mean girls fanfic #cadnis #janis sarkisian #cady heron #cadnis ff #cady x janis #space safari #mean girls musical

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