#so much so that i forgot i had an online presence | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luvrxbunny · 8 months

Text

crybaby

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Prompt: Dacryphilia(?)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, insecure thoughts/relationship doubts, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.1k

A/N: *gasp* im on time?! i hope this counts- reader is crying but it's not a turn-on or anything, it's kinda just something that's happening

Eddie’s band had been on tour for a month now, all his classes were online and he’d Facetime you so you could ensure he’s doing his work but you still miss him. He’s supposed to come home in a week and you don’t know what you’re going to do. You’ve been stressed out of your mind without his calming presence, you’ve told him about some of your stresses and he’s helped but you’re starting to feel like you’re just putting a dampener on his tour so you stopped.

You miss him so much it’s heartbreaking. You knew it would be hard, after being with Eddie for two years now you guys have never spent more than a week apart. You thought though, that after being with him for so long you’d be fine, you’d saved up enough ‘Eddie Time’ to get through the month. You couldn’t have been more wrong.

He was nice enough to let you stay in his room for the month, and you never noticed how big his bed was. You actually used to complain that it isn’t big enough for the both of you but now the only thing you can think is how big it is. If this bed was really made for one person then why is it so big?

Your math homework is scattered on the floor, thrown off the bed in a fit of frustration. You miss him. It’s not that he could’ve done the math for you or anything but he’d make you feel better at least, help you google it and try to figure it out, maybe make you feel like less of a dumbass. But he’s not here. You sigh into his pillow before inhaling his faint scent, tears almost springing to your eyes.

You try not to tell him too much about how deeply your yearning for him goes. You don’t want him to feel bad for leaving, you couldn't be more proud of him for booking this little tour and you’d never want him to stay back for you… but it wouldn’t hurt if he could make a little more time. These past few weeks you’ve barely been able to keep him on the phone, only being available for a few minutes before having to run into a meeting, a practice session, or a vocal lesson. Apparently, he tried to cram all of his meetings and such into this week so that he could spend his last few tour nights getting shitfaced.

He had told you the plan in a rushed and staticky call while he was in an elevator, that was the only free time he had for you, his girlfriend. An elevator ride.

So now you’re in his favorite pair of panties and one of his shirts in case he wants to video call. He gave you piles of silly promises of video-chat sex, you laughed at them when he made them but started craving them after the first two days. He called you on the Wednesday of his first week gone with plans for ‘sex’ but ended up a bit too tired. That was the only time he called… You’re still hopeful though.

You try your best to hold back your tears as you press your face into his pillow. You jump when you hear the front door unlock but when you check the time you realize it’s just Wayne. He doesn’t mind you being here, you make your own dinner and buy groceries sometimes, other than that you guys don’t really interact so you stay where you are, sniffling into Eddie’s pillow. Unfortunately, you miscalculated how loud you were because suddenly Eddie’s room door opened and your body froze. You’re waiting for him to make some awkward attempt at a soothing, comforting conversation, muscles tense with the promise of embarrassment.

“Man, I don’t even get a ‘hi’?” Eddie.

Your head whips up from the pillow and your heart breaks at the way his smile drops along with his bags as he rushes to your side of the bed. “What’s wrong? Did Wayne say some-” You’re sitting up and crashing your lips into his with a sob, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his body to press against yours. You’re still getting up, wanting to be as close to him as you can and now kneeling on the bed, almost his height as he’s standing. You’re gripping the sides of his face, whimpering into his mouth as he coos into yours and his hands are around your waist, pulling your body into his.

You only pull away once you begin to feel light-headed from the lack of oxygen and even then you’re still pressing kisses all over his giggling face. He has to wrestle you into a hug to get you to stop, laughing into your ear with his chest bouncing against yours. “So you missed me?” He says with a cocky tone, but when he pulls away to smile at you there’s a genuine vulnerability in them that you’re in love with.

You kiss him again, a little peck before smiling against his lips. “I missed you so much, Eddie.” Your voice cracks with emotion and his arms tense around you for a moment before lifting to cup your cheek and pulling you in for a slow, romantic kiss. His tongue slides over your lips before slipping into your mouth and relearning your taste. You can already feel yourself melting for him, all your bones turning to jelly and dampening your panties. You’re pulling him down already, trying to get him in bed and he’s laughing.

“Slow down, baby! I-” You kiss him again, a silent beg for him to just get in bed with you. You bring your hands into his hair and whimper against him as your hips twitch in the air just from his taste. You slide your tongue into his mouth this time, earning a shocked moan from the back of his throat as your tongue slides against his, admiring its softness and the moans the action elicits from him. His hands leave your body as he fumbles with his belt. He’s nodding subtly and subconsciously against you as he gives in to his needs.

You can hear him growing more unrestrained as he takes his pants off, his breaths quickly speed up and become heavier. His movements get a bit fumbled and frantic as he tries to kiss you and get his long legs out of his skinny jeans. He ends up crashing on you, tripping over his pants, and landing half on you half on the bed. He’s giggling intermittently, still trying to drown his lips in yours. You’re grinning wildly at his desperation, happy that he needed you as badly as you needed him.

“Calm down, sweetheart.” You chuckle half-heartedly against his neck once he gets his leather jacket off. He’s left in his wife beater, boxers, and chains, climbing over you, hands roaming every part of your body. He has this animalistic look in his eyes, one you’re sure matches the look on your face. You wrap your arms around his waist, running your hands lightly up his back and smiling at the way he shudders as his eyelids flutter. His hand comes up to rest beside your head as he lowers his crotch to yours, holding eye contact and groaning once his pulsing cock comes in contact with your hot core.

He leans back and reaches down for the hem of the t-shirt- his t-shirt that you’re wearing and pulls it up. He has to apologize for the way his hips jerk against yours, thrusting him against your covered pussy like he was actually fucking you, but he couldn’t help it, not when you’re wearing these panties. He leans back down and presses his forehead against yours to let a ragged groan out against your face. Your hips twitch into his slowly building pace at the sound.

“How-” He cuts himself off with a groan and buries his face in your neck, muttering praises and kissing the skin there before coming back up. “How can you tell me to- to calm down when you know-” One hand comes down to the band of your panties, reaching between your thighs to pull the elastic there and snap it against your sensitive skin. “You know you’re wearing these… hm? Explain that, sweetheart.” He says the last tone with a drop of venom, teasing the nickname you used for him earlier while purposely grinding his tip into your clit so he can watch you stumble over your answer.

He chuckles and pulls away once he’s had enough of your silent, trembling lips, trying desperately to form words for him. He pulls his boxers down to his thighs and takes one leg out before pulling on the elastic of your panties again. “Are you just gonna watch or do you wanna get undressed too, my love?”

He says it with a smirk but there’s something about it that’s more loving than teasing as it has a new heat blooming over the one that’s already resting in your stomach. You’d been just staring at him, admiring him as he undressed and you’re sneaking peeks at him even now, as you take your panties off. He smiles at your struggle to take them off, wiggling on your back to shimmy them around your thighs and he’s climbing back over you the second you have them off.

“Been needing you so long, baby.” His statement sounds so genuine as he strokes his cock against your entrance, the tip nudging into your messy hole on every other stroke. It’s a tease but Eddie doesn’t even mean for it to be, he’s just mesmerized by the way his cock is just crying into you, pouring everything he has into your perfect little hole. He groans and has to shut his eyes, a bit worried at how the thought makes his cock throb. He looks up at you for assurance once more and his face crumbles at the way you’re already staring at him. You’re giving him the big pretty eyes, the sweetest face you have, begging him to put it in, to fill your every crevice with his thick cock and he gives it to you before you can even blink.

He thrusts his hips forward, plowing his way through your tight ring of muscle, groaning at the way you squeeze his cock and the way your hands are gripping his shoulders, looking for purchase from the pleasure he’s assaulting you with. You try to stay calm, you keep your limbs from shaking, your eyes from rolling back and you’re trying to keep your face neutral but his cock twitches inside you once, and your entire resolve breaks. A shiver runs up your spine as you curl in on yourself and groan his name while pulling him down to lean into his neck. You can’t see the way his eyes roll back at your breath on his neck but you can feel the way he’s already shaking against you. His arms give out, dropping him to press flush against you with a grunt. He apologizes mindlessly, his hips never stopping their steady pace.

You are surrounded by him, floating away yet grounded by him. You love him so much and he’s been gone for so long. You’re overcome with joy at finally having your boy back in your arms, moaning sweetly into your ear, his adorable little body shaking against you as he fucks his desperate cock into you. He didn’t even know you were missing him so much but he came home early anyway, ready and wanting for you. You feel embarrassment nip at your belly as tears spring to your eyes. You try to bury your face in his shoulder and ignore it, let him keep fucking you as much as he needs.

You don’t want him to stop and if he sees you’re crying that’s exactly what he’ll do. You’ve never felt so consumed, so wrapped and completely enveloped in love before. You only started to even understand what love was when Eddie started loving on you. You’re so grateful for him and everything he is and his dick is sliding into you so perfectly. He’s bullying your G-Spot every time he thrusts in, his fat tip hitting your most sensitive spot and turning your brain to mush with every movement.

Your tear slides down your face when he moans your name into your ear like a prayer, like you’re the best thing he ever has or will have. It falls onto his shoulder and rolls off his arm, he slows for a moment, his moans turning into muted pants as he listens and observes. His hips slow even more when he takes in your shaking hands and trembling shoulders. He tries to pull your head from his neck, his pace more of a lazy thrust now but you refuse and that’s what makes him stop completely. “Baby?”

His voice is shaking and scared, his hand is trembling on the back of your head, softly cradling it. You whine into his neck and lift your hips, sinking his cock back into your hole with a hushed moan as Eddie clamps his eyes shut, bites into his lip, and presses his hands on your hips, forcing them back down to the bed. “Can’t fuck you if you’re crying, my love. What’s-” You cut him off with a shaky whimper at his term of endearment and try to explain yourself.

“Still wan’ it.” You whine to him like that’s the most obvious thing in the world. His hips twitch against you before his cock slowly slides out and back in again. “Yeah?” He questions before speeding up a bit, still keeping a tame, relaxing pace. Your muscles un-tense and your head falls back, exposing your neck to Eddie who happily dives in. “Yeah..” You sigh out as he starts pressing air-light kisses to your sensitive skin.

“Jus’ missed you so much, Ed.” He whimpers into your neck at the confession and his hips speed up just a fraction. “Needed you all the time but-” You whimper as he bites your skin gently, choosing to use a bit more force on some parts. “But you were so busy- an’-” You moan and dig your fingers in his hair as you feel the coil in your stomach begin to draw in, slowly tightening from Eddie’s thrust and your outpour of emotion and love. “An’ now you’re here and you’re so perfect and so good, Eddie.” Your eyes roll back as you lock your legs behind Eddie’s waist forcing him to keep his cock pressed into you fully, making you feel so full. His thighs are jumping at your words- so innocent but somehow have more effect on him than any dirty talk he’s heard before.

He pulls his head out of your neck, little droplets of water littering his long lashes. “Missed you too, doll.” His words are a rough whimper against your lips before he dives in, his hips now moving at a new speed, reinvigorated by your love. He’s kissing you messy, basically just pressing his lips against yours and fucking you, your tongues are everywhere, trying to taste everything and making a mess of both of your faces, all while his hips fuck into you with mind-blowing precision, sending tsunamis of pleasure through your bones on every thrust.

The coil in your stomach tightens even further, reaching the point of no return as your legs tighten around him again. You try to calm down, to keep your pussy from fluttering around Eddie but his knowing chuckle in your ear breaks your resolve, and your pussy spasms around him. “Yeah. Felt like you were trying something.” He reangles himself and adjusts his thrusts, changing them to a slow, hard grind so he stimulates your clit, bringing you to the edge closer than you expected.

Your hands fly to his shoulders, your nails grip him and he groans against you, his eyes rolling back with a gut-wrenching smirk on his face. “Mmm- Mark me up, sweetheart. I-” He breathes out a desperate breath of air, inhaling you instead with a strained whine before dropping into your neck again. His hips grow a bit frantic and his whines turn to rabid grunts as he fucks into you with everything he has, trying to hold off his orgasm as you moan and twitch around his overly sensitive cock.

“Cum all over me, baby.” It’s a request and Eddie was ready to beg but you let go at his first utterance. You explode all over him, he has to reach up lightning fast to slap his hand over your mouth as your eyes cross and you moan, completely debauched into his hand. He grunts out against his hand, biting his lip to try and hold his sounds in as you soak his dick, squeezing him erratically as you cum. He tries to hold back, let you finish basking in your orgasm before pouring his seed into you but your muffled sounds are too much. He whines out curses and moans of your name against the back of his hand as you moan for him into the other side.

His hips slam into yours one last time to push himself as deep as he can go before his cock explodes. He doesn’t know how he had so much cum inside him but he’s sure it’s going to overflow. He can’t even think as his orgasm tears through him, he can hear you encouraging him distantly and it forces another load to rack through his body. His balls are painfully tight as he tries to give you everything he has, completely empty his balls into you. It’s all for you anyway. He lets you know too, it’s the only thing he’s able to mutter to you as he cums. “S’all f’you, baby. All for you.”

He whimpers against you with a few more tremors shooting through his body before wrapping his arms around your waist and rolling onto his back with a sigh. You giggle softly and try to climb off of him but you get a groan of protest. “Eddie, m’heavy, baby.” You smile as you speak, letting your fingers run over his wet, pink lips. He snorts in response. “Liar.” He readjusts his position, sinking into the bed some more, wrapping his arms tighter, and falling asleep. You pretend to be upset that you’re left with no option but to cuddle with him until you fall asleep in his arms.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

673 notes · View notes

sluttysanemi · 2 months

Text

⋆ˊˎ-•̩̩͙-　*̩̩̥͙

YOUR POST.

a/n: i hate hoes who open their gaping mouth n talk shit about u, even though ur an online creator w a slight social presence. imagine calling a stranger spoiled, a bitch, and telling them to kill themselves, even though they've never spoken to you, and simply posted something you disagree with? couldnt be me, LOL! imagine being so childish? (u forgot petty btw ;)) tag me b4 u spread ur legs again to shit talk me, you spineless, nosy, slow ass, cunt!! xoxo)

also, do me a favour n send esha spiders to her home address!! she loves them!! she wants them all over her bum. hi esha!!

c/w: out-of-character sanemi, masturbation, jealous sanemi, slightly stalker-ish?, public masturbation?? hes in his car idk

He was constantly monitoring your social media. It felt as if he was persistently on your page. Watching you. Watching your body.

He was addicted. He couldn't let you leave him.

You could say that you've parted ways. Still, your presence remained in his heart.

And his head remained clouded by his perverse thoughts.

⋆ˊˎ-•̩̩͙-　*̩̩̥͙

Sanemi slid into the driver's seat once more, following his brief journey to the petrol station. Outside, it was dingy and late. There weren't many vehicles within the area.

He stared out the window, taking in the serene moment. It was quiet and silent, with many shops shuttered. The majority of apartment windows were dark, indicating that the occupants had been sleeping.

His mind pondering endlessly, he took his phone from his pocket. His thumb scrolled mindlessly, prolonging his journey home.

As he clicked on his social medias, the sudden urge to look at your page swiftly struck him. He held an unhealthy attachment. He needed to know how you were.

You still belonged to him after all, he strongly thought. He held the freedom to stalk your online presence as much as he pleased.

Heaven forbid that you had found a new boyfriend. A substitute for him. He wouldn't forgive it. He would have ensured that he implemented action against him.

As he visits your page, he discovers a fresh post. Another work of art to marvel at. He swallows idly, tapping the screen.

As the image was displayed on his phone, he felt a strong surge of shock. And intense thoughts of arousal.

He stares at the scene, his mind racing with numerous thoughts. It was a beach post, your attire almost provocative. Your apparel was tight and highlighted the intricate details of your body. He consumed it entirely.

He bit his lip and kept his eyes riveted to his phone. What a tease you were. You knew he would grow thrilled by your body.

His clothing felt tight as his cock began to pulse, and harden beneath the material. You were devious, he thought. Your body was pleading for him.

His palms grew damp, and his body tensed. He craved relief.

His eyes remained centred on his phone, as his fingers crept gradually to his zip. Quivering digits slowly curled, tugging downward. As it opened, he fumbled to his belt. He loosened himself, providing his waist slight solace.

With simple access, he swiftly pulled aside the soft material of his briefs, releasing his eager shaft. His bulbous tip oozed glistening droplets of pre.

With a quivering breath, he curled his hand over his pulsating erection. His veins jerked fiercely.

His lips groan with ecstasy as his hand glides in a steady rhythm. His thoughts were centred on you. Only you.

His hips jerked lightly as his chest heaved. His brows pinched together, and his cheeks flushed.

He thought of you in compromising scenarios. In altering positions. He envisioned how you would plead for him, as his cock gradually plunged within you. The tight cavity of your walls, writhing around him.

His hands surged quicker, as his hips bucked more viciously.

His fingers trembled, as his phone nearly fell from his grasp. He darted a glance at your face. Your lips. He recalls their soft, tender touch. Their supple feel. His head rolls back, and a deep groan slips from his chest.

He envisioned them wrapped around his rushing shaft. How he'd grasp your hair and rock his hips fiercely into your throat. He'd watch his seed fill your mouth and slowly drip past your lips.

“Fuck… cockslut… just beggin’ for this cock, huh?”, his words a heavy breath. He couldn't help himself.

He felt himself fluttering more vigorously. With a few further strokes, his shaft gushed. Thick jets of his seed spilled from his straining cock, as he groaned with delight. He immersed himself in the moment, his mind blurred with bliss.

He buried himself in heaven.

He takes a moment to replenish his breath. His hazy thoughts gradually returned to clarity.

He gazed at his palm, which was now coated in his ecstacy. His thighs trembled faintly, and his body felt almost overwhelmed.

“Fuck…”, he whispered softly. What an influence you had on him.

He knew one thing for definite.

He needed to bring you back.

93 notes · View notes

irisposts · 1 year

Text

you & me [1]

college au!! it’s the infamous enemies to lovers trope. more like the reader hates ellie lol and ellie’s along for the ride. this chapter is pretty lighthearted :) lemme know what you think!

edited: yes/no

a/n: there is like the smallest easter egg to the game and show!! hint: it’s about joel miller

you weren’t a fan of room 926. every couple nights, they mocked you out of sleep. playing their stupid guitar and band music. it was almost as if they believed they were the only occupants of the dorms.

you now scratch at a plastic bag around your hair, arms crossed as you wait before their door. you curse to yourself, quickly realizing how utterly- ridiculous you must look with a shaggy bathrobe and hair pinned underneath a crinkly target bag. but it’s 1am and you give yourself grace. you tap your foot impatiently, knocking at the door again.

“hey!”

annoyed, you start pounding at it to make a statement. you’re so into it that you don’t notice the door down the hall open. a guy around your age pokes his head through. “hey!” he snaps his fingers to grab your attention.

you momentarily stop, “…hi?”

you pull your robe tighter, hoping the bag doesn’t crinkles as you move.

“could you do me the biggest favor?” the guy starts off sweet. “…but could you please shut the fuck up? people are trying to get some sleep here.”

your jaw hangs low, in shock.

even more so when you don’t get the chance to defend yourself as he slams the door shut just as quickly as he had opened it. you turn back to 926, this time your fist is going through this door. you swear it. just as you muster the strength to punch through, the door swings open.

you hand quickly falls down to your side. your cheeks grow warm at the woman leant against the door frame by one arm.

you swallow down the lump in your throat. “ellie.”

you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like ellie’s voice. it’s rasp—yet soft. something unique to only ellie. “y/n.”

lord she sounds heavenly, you wander if your knees could turn to jello in an instant. ellie makes that seems possible.

your heart pounds against your chest, she wears the infamous at gray hoodie. you admire the way her hair is pulled back into a low bun, and the strand of hair that swings besides her cheek.

your eyes wander off to the side. you notice a familiar face in the room. “dina?”

she’s sat on the opposite bed of the room. she looks up at the call of her name. she gives a curt wave, and offers a gentle smile. you go to save back but ellie has stepped forward, closing the door behind her. for a fleeting moment you can’t help but feel the faint pain of jealousy stab at your heart. you take a step back as well, feeling ellie’s presence to be too much for you.

she now leans onto her side along the door frame, scratching nervously at the nape of her neck.

you fight the urge to look into her eyes. but it proves difficult—ellie towers over you. it’s only by a few more inches, but it’s enough to make you feel inferior at times. and you despised it, disposed her. and to add fuel to fire, you hate to admit the truth—but elliie is hot. for a means of simpler terms. . she has both girls and guys alike fawning over her on campus, despite the fact she only playing for one team.

you suck on your teeth ready to get this over with. “can you keep it down, please.” you place a hand on your hip.

ellie ignores your request and points to your head. “what’s with the bag?”

“what bag?”

ellie chews on her bottom lip, her finger makes a circular motion around her head. she’s so sarcastic it makes you ill.

“protein treatment i saw online. you know what—” you shake your head not wanting to start the usual banter between you two. “—it’s late, okay?” you motion to the space between you too. “and if you forgot, we have class tomorrow…”

ellie runs at her face, sighing. “i’m aware.”

she looks back to you, and then it’s at that moment you realize the redness in her eyes and the smell off her clothes, you sniff. scowling in distaste “are you high?”

ellie blinks. “…no…?”

you squint your eyes and exhale. “look, i don’t care, but can you and your girlfriend please keep it down please?”

you notice a flash across ellie’s eyes. “yeah, yeah sorry. won’t happen again.”

“‘mhm.” you turn back towards your room. not believing a word, but also not wanting to drag this on for much longer.

ellie fiddles with her two fingers. not particularly of wanting this fleeting interaction to end. “hey, 925?”

you roll eyes, pivoting your hips to briefly look back. “yeah?”

ellie crosses her arms, growing serious for a moment. “i never got a chance to thank you about the other day….”

you blink. “don’t mention it.”

you turn to push down on your door knob. “night ,neighbor.” you swing the door open, slamming it shut behind you.

leaving ellie alone to stare at the numbers 925 to mock her back…

#x reader #ellie williams #the last of us #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie x you #the last of us ellie #the last of us masterlist #wlw #you & me

554 notes · View notes

ssturniolo · 10 months

Text

Bunnies and birthdays

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - after thinking everyone forgot her birthday, y/n was met with a pleasant surprise.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - swearing, kissing, I think that’s it? (Not proofread)

𝔞/𝔫- I know it’s bad and rushed I just needed to get something posted.

You’ve never made your birthday a big deal, and most definitely have never expected any gifts. But you were still surprised and slightly disappointed when you woke up to no ‘Happy Birthday’ messages. Well, at least not from any of your friends. Not even from Chris.

Remembering that the triplets told you they were bad with birthdays, you just assumed they had forgotten. Rolling over in bed, you prop yourself up on your elbows and send Chris a quick text.

Y/n-hey love, wyd today? Wanna hang out?

Chrizz🫶-sorry can’t talk rn

Sighing, you pull yourself out of bed, and walk into your living room, flopping onto the couch. You spent the day watching your favorite Disney movies, eating popcorn, and online shopping to distract yourself.

Just as the end credits of ‘Bambi’ roll onto the tv, a message from Chris pops up on your phone.

Chrizz🫶-y/n,come to my house I need you

Jumping off the couch, you rush towards the door, mind racing. This sounds urgent. Is he ok? What if something bad happened? You couldn’t help but think the worst, as you drove quickly to their house.

Opening the front door, you rush inside, only to find, well… nothing. All the lights were off and the house seemed quiet and still. Almost too quiet.

Just as you reach the top of the stairs, the lights flick on, temporarily blinding you as all of your friends pop out, screaming ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ in unison. Grabbing the railing so you don’t fall down the stairs, relief floods over you. They didn’t forget.

You smile, taking it all in. The beautiful decorations, the cute birthday cake, the triplets even flew some of your friends from home in. It was perfect. Except one thing. Scanning the room of familiar faces you couldn’t help notice there was one missing. Chris.

After giving hugs and thanking everyone, you walk up to Matt, a confused look on your face. “Where’s Chris?” You ask, still a bit on edge from his previous text.

Furrowing his brows, Matt looks around the room. “He should’ve been up here by now, he’s probably still in his room.”

Thanking him, you walk down the stairs to Chris’s room.

About to turn the knob, you freeze as you hear a crash from inside the room.

“Fuck” Chris’s voice comes out muffled through the door but you can still hear the annoyance.

Slowly entering the room, your met with the sight of Chris on all fours, seemingly searching for something. Noticing your presence, Chris flashes a smile at you before continuing to search.

“Watcha looking for?” You question, bending down as an attempt to help him look for whatever he seems to be missing. Before he can respond, a movement in the corner of his room catches your attention.

You turn to find a small, grey bunny cowering in the corner of his room. You gasp, slowly moving towards the small creature to pick it up. With the bunny now in your arms, you turn to Chris who is already looking at you.

Motioning towards the rabbit, he scoffs. “That little shit tried to kill me.”

“Why’d you have in it the first place?” You question, giggling at his over exaggeration.

“I.. um.. know how much you love thumper from ‘Bambi’ so I thought I would get you your own” he says, finally meeting your eyes.

“It’s- it’s mine?” You whisper, as a smile slowly creeps across your lips.

“Better be, because I’m sure as hell not keeping it”

Setting the bunny on his bed, you run up to Chris, wrapping him in a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank youuu” you squeal into his ear.

Pulling away, he rests his hands on your hips and smiles down at you. “Happy birthday ya goof” he says before leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your lips.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

I’ve had this idea for awhile and it was supposed to be written and posted on my birthday but as you can see, that didn’t happen. Ik it kinda sucks but hey, it’s something.

XOXO - Zoe

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #fypage #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #fypppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppp #christopher sturniolo imagine #birthday #matt sturniolo #boyfriend

331 notes · View notes

stargirlsmooch · 2 years

Text

good boy

camboy!bucky barnes x fem!reader

the good boy trilogy - part 1

you and bucky have known each other for a little while, but you both still have your secrets. what happens when you find out what bucky does on friday nights? and what goes on when he realises that you may not be as naive as you seem? very smutty! 18+ 2.2k words.

Since leaving the marines, Bucky has had so much free time that he doesn’t know what to do with it. Take up a new hobby? No. Make some new friends? No. Learn to play an instrument? No.

Instead, he likes to torture you at the bookshop you work at: following you around when you’re restocking shelves and chatting to you whilst you serve all the other customers. You fully embrace his presence in your day, sitting with him in the local coffee shop on your break and saving him books that you think he might like.

That’s how your special relationship flourished: you’d give the books you liked to Bucky, he’d read them too and then the both of you would spend hours texting back and forth about your favourite parts. And, maybe you had ignored him for a few days when he said something particularly unpleasant about your favourite novel.

But when Bucky brought you your favourite, a salted caramel latte, before your shift at the shop, you totally forgot your petty argument and apologised for ignoring him. “I was worried about you, sweetheart.” he’d said, thinking you’d forgotten about him.

Having never had much romantic attention before, you were embarrassingly unaware of Bucky’s attraction to you, and whilst you were waiting for him to make the first move, he was waiting for you to recognise his interest- which was never going to happen.

Bucky thought you were the most naive girl ever to hit the earth, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Every Friday night, you’d log onto your most favourite website and fuck yourself endlessly for your favourite cam boy- The Winter Soldier.

The sexiest man you had ever seen. Obviously, you had only ever seen his body, perfectly sculpted and covered from top to bottom in the most intricate tattoos- he was a girl’s wet dream personified. You always wondered if Bucky had tattoos, it would probably make you fall harder for him if he did, but since you had only known him for a few months (and all of those months were in winter) you’d only ever seen him with long sleeves.

You and your soldier's Friday night sessions were private since you’d been a fan for so long, you’d tip him everything you could in his public streams, just begging to be noticed. And thank the lord he did notice you, you were growing tired and jealous of him conversing with all the other girls online and leaving you out.

Little tears of frustration would bead at the corners of your eyes whenever you had to watch him fist his cock and moan another woman’s name. He was so sweet and submissive with you now, following your orders accordingly and giving you an adorable “thank you, mommy” whenever you let him cum.

So whilst Bucky had this picture of you in his mind: an endearing and lovable bookseller, so complaint and pure- the perfect girl, he really couldn’t get further from the truth; you relished in the power you had when you were dominant, sexy and mysterious.

Every time he called you a pet name, he thought it went straight over your head but instead, you were imagining if it was you calling him cutesy names, devaluing his masculinity until he was like putty in your hands.

Almost every night before bed, you’d imagine Bucky there next to you, begging you to touch him and please him. You’d be the best he ever had, giving him the perfect place to relax his big and muscled body- one that had been expertly trained and carved by his time in the military.

His time in the marines wasn’t something he spoke of often, or fondly, and you guessed that it was probably his last resort after leaving high school. And that was true, Bucky had had no idea what to do when he left school- there were just too many options to choose from, and so he chose to follow his best friend into the army.

Years later, he was left battered and bruised after almost losing his arm, and with his inheritance, moved to a small town outside of New York to live out the rest of his days.

The story was different for you- you were a town native and had just returned after finishing college. Whilst you once wished to be a famous author in the big neighbouring city, you were happily co-owning the village’s only bookshop with one of your closest friends for now.

That was another thing that you loved about your slowly-blossoming relationship with Bucky- the age difference, it drove you crazy. Whilst Bucky had just passed forty, you weren’t even 25 yet, and that made your imaginations just that more erotic. A bigger, older man calling you “mommy”? It couldn’t get more perfect.

Sitting across from Bucky with a gingerbread latte in hand (Bucky had bought it for you, saying it was time to step out of your comfort zone of salted caramel), you listened to him give a detailed account of how he felt reading one of your favourites, Normal People by Sally Rooney.

“... and I just couldn’t get over the fact that it had no speech marks.” He whined, leaning back in his chair and putting the book down in front of him on the table. Your eyes widened as you saw what he had done to your copy, picking it up and smoothing out the corners that he’d folded over.

“Bucky! What have I told you about using a bookmark? Stop defiling my books!” You said. “And with regards to the punctuation… I think you should stop being a prescriptivist snob.”

He rolled his eyes at you, picking up his coffee again and taking a sip as you took a gulp of yours. “So, what you up to tonight, sugar?”

It was Friday, which meant Winter Soldier day, and a night full of orgasms for you. A dreamy smile broke out across your lips as you thought about the day ahead of you, and all the fun you were going to have later. You zoned out, forgetting about Bucky’s question.

Bucky saw the reaction form on your face and a violent feeling of jealousy took over him, sitting deep in his chest and causing his face to transform into a deep frown. “What?” He asked, more harshly than he intended.

You turned to him, that lovely smile still stuck on your face (to his dismay) and your mug raised halfway between the table and your mouth, “Huh?”

“Who’s got you smiling like that, sweetheart?” Bucky said, rolling up his sleeves and resting his elbows on the table as he began twisting his rings on his fingers. You loved it when he did that, it gave you an excuse to stare at his glorious hands and imagine what he could do to you with them.

Whilst you were thinking over a little white lie to tell Bucky (obviously not being able to tell him what you were actually doing tonight), you noticed the way his forearms flexed. But what you failed to notice until a few seconds later were his tattoos… you’d never seen them before.

They littered almost every inch of visible skin, except for his hands, and you thought they were beautiful. The way they wrapped around the muscles and the eerie colourlessness of them satisfied you- they made him look so masculine. You couldn’t stop imagining him on his knees for you, those hands holding your thighs apart as he dove inbetween them.

You grabbed his arm gently and moved closer to him on the leather bench seat you were both sitting on, so your thigh was pressed against his. Tingles pulsated through his skin where you touched him, “You like them, sugar?”

“Mhm… I do. I didn’t know you had tattoos. I love tattoos.” You said truthfully (nothing turned you on more), rubbing your thumb over the inked skin.

You were reminded of your Winter Soldier, and all the drawings that marred his perfect body: the two little doves that rested on his collar bone, the crown of thorns that ran right around his torso, but your favourite, and arguably the funniest, were the words “lucky you” tattooed just above his pubic bone.

“My friend, he has a pretty funny tattoo.” You said, giggling at the memory of the first time you saw it and the story Winter had told you about it being the punishment of him losing a bet against one of his friends, Sam.

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

“It’s words “lucky you”... just above his dick.” You said, pointed to the area on your body and laughing quietly. You were looking down at your tummy when Bucky’s face took on his reaction, no one apart from his viewers (and the few women he’d been with) had see that tattoo, and Bucky had obviously never slept with you, so that left one possibility.

You were a viewer.

Settling on your bed with your vibrator and your dildo laid next to you, you opened your laptop and quickly logged in to the website. Your body was physically shaking with excitement, you had been waiting all week to see your boy again and it was only minutes away- your pussy was already throbbing with the anticipation of being nice and full again.

A little while later, Winter popped up on your screen, in all his naked and tattooed glory with his thick glistening cock in his hand. You wimpered at the sight of its leaking head, fat beads of precum dripping down the length to his balls.

Your mouth watered at view in front of you, imagining the feeling of it hitting your g-spot and forcing your tight walls apart over and over as you rode him.

“Hi, mommy.” He said, and just like that your resolve broke and you moaned.

You turned on your microphone, “Hey, baby. You doing okay?”

Bucky recognised your voice immediately. How did he not realise before that is was you? The only woman he has ever and will ever submit to has been his sweet Y/n this whole time. The pure realisation caused him to fist his cock harder and faster.

“No, baby. Mommy didn’t tell you to go faster, did she?” You whispered, giggling at the way his hand loosened obediently. “Good boy.”

“Yes, I’m your good boy, Y/n.”

Your hand stopped on its path down to your clit, dropping onto your soft tummy in shock and gripping the material of your shirt. What the fuck? Winter only ever referred to you by your title, you had never told him your name, he only knew your username.

“Mommy… I meant Mommy.” Bucky said, trying to save himself… but he was in too deep now. He dropped his head into his hands and looked directly at the camera, showing you his face (online) for the first time.

He knew it was you… so what was the point in hiding anymore? He was tired of pretending he wasn’t attracted to you.

Bucky expected the call to end, maybe a brief goodbye… but what he definitely didn’t expect was for your face to appear on his screen in front of him. You turned on your webcam, looked straight into the lens and said, “Did Mommy tell you to stop, baby?”

He couldn’t resist your instruction, wrapping his hand around himself right away and moving it along his length nice and fast- just the way you always asked him to. His other hand reached down to cup his balls, heavy in his hand as he squeezed them.

“That’s it, baby. You know what Mommy likes, don’t you?” You asked, knowing you wouldn’t get a reply from the man on the other end of the call- sometimes he was just so desperate to touch himself that he lost all other sense around him, just focusing on pleasing you.

“What are you thinking about, sweetie? You gonna tell Mommy?”

You couldn’t take your eyes off Bucky’s face, watching the way he winced as he tried to hold back his orgasm, and the way his hand slowed when he was too close. He was so pretty, the prettiest boy you had ever seen.

As Bucky escaped his sex-filled haze, he finally answered you- “Thinking about… about Mommy bouncing on my cock. You’d feel so good, so tight.”

“Mhm. You thinking about me taking you in my pussy or my ass, honey? Which hole are you gonna choose?” You said, laughing at how Bucky’s eyes widened. “You didn’t think I was this slutty, did you?”

“No, Mommy.”

“You’re so naive, baby. Mommy has wanted you forever. Wanted to feel your thick cum leaking out of me since the day I met you.”

Bucky’s pace hastened to an almost unnatural pace, his tip a nice shiny red.

“Wish I could kiss my sweet baby. Are you gonna cum for Mommy?”

And before you could give permission, the thick white cream gushed down the side of his cock like a perfect stream. God, you wished you could lick it all up.

As you looked at him through the screen, you smiled at his adorable little fucked-out expression and the way the sweat trickled down his abs- he always worked so hard for his Mommy. But that didn’t mean that he was always the good boy he thought he was.

“You came without asking, baby. You’re getting punished when I see you.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #camboy!bucky barnes #marvel

770 notes · View notes

malina-33 · 9 months

Text

Femme Like You - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Summary: You are the new tour manager for Arctic Monkeys during The Car era. You are practically the only girl in the team, also younger than the rest (27 y.o.), so your skills are immediately called into question. In particular, by the frontman who is not used to being led by a woman.

Word count: 10,2k

Warnings: swearing, emotional swing (is it even a warning?), kind of voyeurism (slight), age gap

A/N: Dear friends, hi!! I know, I know that I've promised you to update the fic every 3 weeks, and the disappeared for 1.5 months, but I spontaneously found a job, so there was very little time. But the chapter is much longer and with some interesting collaborations ;) I'll hope you enjoy them!

And write down what do you think if I make a description of not only the whole work, but also the chapter before each new part? Or is it better to keep the intrigue till the end?

In any case, I look forward to your feedback, it's soooo much important for me. I won't promise to return before the end of September, but I'll do my best not to delay. I already have an interesting plot for the next chapters, you should like it💔

*guys, English isn't my first language so if I have (and I know I have lol) any grammar/logic mistakes don't hesitate to tell me :)

The first week after meeting with the group flew by unnoticed. You dealt with the documentation, understanding how necessary it is, no matter how much you hated it, phoned the representatives of Ashton Gate stadium, made sure that everything was okay and confirmed the presence of the group and even tried to check the weather since the gig would be held outside. However, it turned out to be a little more difficult with the transport company. Apparently, James forgot to warn them about the temporary removal of his duties, so you had to spend time clarifying the situation and explaining who you are. It seemed that your hands-on approach was excessive, because you were trying to control everything in one time, but only due to the feeling of extra responsibility.

Steven, as promised, sent the contacts of the guys and important people from the technical crew, so now your phone had the names of Jamie Cook, Nick O'Malley, Matthew Helders and Alex "dickhead" Turner among others. 19 years old you would definitely envy yourself. So when you got a message while cooking pasta for dinner on Saturday night, you already knew it was from the drummer and not from an anonymous online scammer.

Matthew Helders: "good evening, Miss Y/S! I hope you aren't busy. We'll wait you on the soundcheck on Monday at 2 pm in Domino, need your advice :)"

You almost overcooked Carbonara bacon rereading the message. "Do they really need my advice?" you whispered, furrowing your brows "About what?". But the only answer was:

You: "Sure! Do I need to take some 12% cider?"

Matthew Helders: "you better not show up without a package lol"

Immediately followed by:

Matthew Helders: "just kidding! We are waiting only for you, but in the company of cider it will be even better)"

You chuckled, surprised at how quickly Matt went from formal Miss at the beginning of the conversation to smiles and lols at the end. To tell the truth, you still didn't fully understand how to behave with them. On the one hand, you are their manager and have a certain influence, as well as subordination. Steven and James don't have it, although they are "higher" in position, but they've been friends for half of a life, and you are a completely new person. On the other hand, in this area there is no place for strict formalities, especially since the guys don't look like those who would comply with them. After all they were big kids no matter how mature and pretentious they could look on stage, and you clearly felt it. Maybe your company will help them to relax even more, so there won't be any awkwardness and you will naturally find an edge where all of you will feel comfortable and which no one will cross.

With those thoughts, Carbonara and Rosé you spent your Saturday night watching your favorite series "La Piovra". You got used to such calm and quiet evenings. The era of parties until the morning has passed in the university years, and it’s not that you don’t go to clubs now, it’s just that the older you become the better you began to appreciate moments of silence. Not to be bored alone with yourself is the most valuable skill that you have acquired in your life. Having lived first with your parents for a long time, then getting married early at the age of 20 and having lived with your husband for 3 years, you were essentially not left alone with yourself. Having discovered over time that you feel absolutely nothing for the person whom you said "yes" to in the registry office, you were horrified and frightened to say at least. You thought that you get married once for a lifetime, but it turned out that happy endings exist only in fairy tales. That period of despondency, depression and eventual deepening into work gave its results. Major labels began to notice you, inviting you to musical projects with famous bands such as Maneskin. You worked with them for 1.5 years, leaving after their heyday at the Eurovision, realizing that you can’t give them more. That was your second decision to leave, but unlike the divorce, it didn't bring you much suffering. You understood that you and the group gave each other a lot, and although the parting was bitter, everyone understood that it was necessary. You still remained friends with the guys and periodically wrote off to meet. You planned to go to their concert, but couldn't find the time. And after your assignment to the Monkeys it became even more harder to shedule.

After the divorce you didn't have a serious relationship, instead you had a dream job, money, a car, a country house and even a corgi Grapes. You weren't afraid of the future, loved the time in seclusion and found inner peace by meditating on the production of cider, which was your unusual but very tasty hobby. Were you fully happy, though? Wouldn't you like to cross the threshold of the house and be met not by a dog's barking, but by a warm kiss on the forehead and a quiet "how was your day"? You probably wanted to, but it was hard to admit, especially considering that the fear of intimacy sat somewhere deep inside, not letting you forget the disappointment that you experienced when you removed the engagement ring from your finger. Although you remained friends who didn't hold evil against each other, the bitterness of your marriage was almost impossible to remove from the memories.

But for now, your head has been occupied by the sudden question of where to put Grapes for the duration of the tour...

Monday morning was sunny and peaceful, you woke up in a surprisingly good mood, put on your make-up, put on your favorite lime flared jeans, loaded a case of apple drink from the basemеnt into the car, patted Grapes and drove off to the studio. The road took about an hour, so during this time you managed to phone your father. You haven't talked much lately due to your workload, and now was almost the only time of the day when you were relatively free. You put the speaker phone mode, listening to the slightly hoarse voice of the man, without being distracted from the road.

"Hello my dear! How are you?"

"Hi daddy, I'm fine, going to work right now"

"My busy bee, James has already told me about your progress" you could hear him chuckle, coughing a little. You could only guess what Ford said to your father, because you spoke to him only once in these 2 weeks, when you recalled him after meeting with the group. And not that your story was very colorful. Therefore, the guys or Steven contacted him, and from this point of view, you couldn't imagine what they possibly come up with towards you.

"He assured me the boys liked you"

"Oh, really?" you said on the exhale, squeezing your hands on the steering wheel tightly.

"Yes, James is pleased with you. Well done, babe!" you melted under his words. It felt like you were a little girl again who drew a family picture that was hung on the refrigerator, even though mom and dad looked like monsters.

"Thank you daddy, I'm very happy to be with them actually"

"Of course, in such a company of men. Should I be jealous? 'Cause I looked through their photos on the Internet" dad said proudly, to which you burst out laughing, stopping at a traffic light.

"Dad, c'mon, no! They're too old for me" you laughed.

"10 years are not a big deal. Anyway, your choice. Just don't forget to eat please, I know how tough you work now. Otherwise you'll get drunk on your cider. God, how did you even manage to get into this alcohol sphere..." the man groaned in prostration. You rolled your eyes, but still smiled without answering. You got used to your father's fast flow of different thoughts.

"And don't roll your eyes, little naughty one! I care about you. So if they hurt you, you know who to call, right?"

"Oi, who will offend whom first" you retorted defiantly.

"Okay okay, I won't interrupt anymore. Kiss Grapes for me. I love you"

"And I love you very much, hello mom"

"I'll pass it on, bye!"

You turned off the call, fully focusing on the road. After talking with your parents, you always felt warm in your soul, so up to the studio you didn't leave a smile when you sang songs from the radio under your breath.

You arrived exactly at 2 o'clock, as agreed with Matt, but when you saw a few more cars in the parking lot in addition to the familiar Cadillac, you realized that the guys had been here for a long time. You must have looked a little ridiculous in a business suit and heels and a wooden box under your arm, but you didn't have other choice. Holding the car key in your mouth and trying to press the button at the same time, you clumsily closed the trunk with your leg. A purse was still dangling somewhere on your shoulder, and sunglasses had slipped from head to the bridge of your nose. "Must be an amazing picture to observe" you thought tiredly "Oh, if only Matt were here".

But before you had time to think about it, you heard a soft laugh behind you. You turned around sharply, noticing the frontman smoking alone near the entrance. You spat the key into the box, finally pressing the right button, and shouted

"And how long do you look?"

"I came exactly at the most interesting moment" man smiled, taking a puff.

You heavily crossed the entire parking lot, approaching him. Turner, having finished smoking a cigarette and throwing it into a nearby trash can, silently took the box from your hands.

"Hi, Y/N" he greeted you wheezing nicotine in the lungs.

"Hi," you frowened a little, but slowly added "Alex".

Calling him by his first name was... Unusual. A week ago the appeal to him was exclusively Mr. Turner, but today he was the first to break this line. "Well, apparently, we will both have problems with the boundaries of what is acceptable" bitterly flashed through your thoughts.

You both entered the building - Alex with a box in front, you behind holding the door. The way was silent. You wanted to say something to break this crystal quietness of his, but by the time you mustered up the courage, you stopped at the door 13A. The vocalist pushed it with his left shoulder, squeezing the alcohol forward, and you trotted along.

As soon as you and Alex entered the sound studio, you were immediately greeted with whistling and loud hooting.

"Look who's here, Miss Y/N"

"Hi, guys! I'm here with gifts as promised" you smiled broadly.

Alex at this time put the box on the table and immediately took one bottle for himself.

You noticed that there were Tyler and Tom in the studio as well, so you mentally praised yourself for taking bottles with a margin. You didn't know them personally yet, but was willing to change it. Turner introduced you to the men, and surprisingly you didn't hear his usual sneer in the voice.

"So, welcome Y/N Y/S, she's our manager for the summer before America starts and James gets back"

"Happy to finally meet you!" you were the first to extend your hand to Tyler, which he shook gently, smiling affably, and then to Tom. But he intercepted your hand, kissing your knuckles and making you laugh.

"Mutually, Miss" Rowley said enchanted.

"And she makes her own awesome cider, get one" Matt ordered businesslike, raising his voice from behind the drum kit.

"Yeah, there is enough for everyone, don't hesitate to take"

Evidently you arrived during the break, and before that they had already rehearsed a bit. You were wondering what kind of advice they need from you. The thought that they just needed cider you pushed back with a grin. But Alex, as if reading your thoughts, leisurely started speaking leaning on the table and holding a drink.

"Well, thanks for the cider, but that's not what we called you for. Since you're such a big fan of My Propeller, we discussed it here and decided that it's possible to put one on the set list for a couple of times. So listen to how it sounds, maybe have some ideas or whatevah" he was trying to sound casual, not attaching importance to his words for you.

"I'll do my best!" you almost jumped from such news.

Jamie chuckled audibly, running his fingers over the guitar. You sat down on the couch as Matt tapped the rhythm with his sticks and the melody began.

Seductive. The first association that came to your mind when you heard the intro of this song. It was your favorite from Humbug for sure and one of the band's all time favorites. Alex never told in any interview what was the secret of the lyrics, and probably that was the reason it attracted you even more. The guys played it selflessly, as if there hadn't been those decades that they hadn't performed it. You liked how they gave themselves to the process, even if it was just a rehearsal. They were in simple t-shirts and Matt was proudly wearing pineapple shorts, but you could swear, a real concert was unfolding right in front of you.

When Alex started singing you tried to hide the goosebumps as best as you could, but it hardly worked out well. His voice flowed melodically, not betraying a hint of wheezing or breaking, which could arise due to the age. He closed his eyes, tightly gripping the microphone stand, and moved his feet to the beat, slightly ridiculous, but at the same time gracefully. Throughout the song, you didn’t take your eyes off the group for a minute, sometimes singing along to the words, pulling the last syllable of

Coax me out my law

And have a spin of my propeller

When the song ended, you clapped and Nick even made a mock bow.

“I don’t know how objective my assessment will be, because apart from the words of delight I have nothing to add” you honestly admitted. It seemed to you that you heard Alex's quiet "As I said", but Matt was quick to interrupt him asking you "Actually, we have already decided to play it in Bristol, but the question is where to chip in. We'll definitely not start with this one, and the outro is already completed, so..."

You thought a little, trying to understand what motives My Propeller reminds you of, and then the penny dropped.

"Pretty Visitors!" you exclaimed louder than you should have because your words echoed through the silent studio.

"Smooth interlude from Pretty Visitors, yeah, not bad actually" Alex quickly developed your idea, turning to Matt, as if asking "Do you mind?", but the drummer only closed his eyes approvingly. It seemed that they didn't need any words at all, they could understand each other with guitar riffs and drum brakes. Their connection, it was amazing, honed to automatism for past 20 years. They were like scientists in a chemistry lab mixing potions together in an attempt to make a new elixir. It was magic to come true and watching this process was so intimate that you involuntarily felt the heat on your cheeks, as if you were engaged in voyeurism.

***

The hours in the studio flew by. Fortunately for you, the guys decided to surprise fans with the return of Mardy Bum which will be the opener. The exact setlist for Bristol was confirmed at the end of the rehearsal, bringing back Teddy Picker and The View From The Afternoon as well. So looking at the perfect 21 songs, you could only imagine what they would save for London. Originally you were going to visit their concert in your hometown, you bought tickets as soon as sales were announced, but after James's call you easily gave the ticket to a friend, saying that you had won a jackpot.

Tom and Tyler have already left and the five of you are left. You were sitting on a soft chair, moved from the corner of the room, and the guys opposite on the sofas. The boys had laid down their guitars and you were leding a peaceful conversation about life, since the studio rental time ended only in an hour. You told them about your career in the industry, Maneskin and the part time projects you've been working on lately, omitting the details of your divorce because you thought it was too early for them to immerse themselves in such personal aspects of your life.

"By the way, Vic is your big fan and Alex in particular" you giggled, remembering the way drunk Maneskin bassist told you that she would like to sleep with Turner. Those were the carefree times of your youth you warmly remembered.

"Really?" Matt raised his eyebrows as he sipped his seemingly endless bottle of cider "You still have their contacts, right?"

"Yeah, sure, we even text each other occasionally" you quipped.

"And you didn't say you were working with us?" Heldres was surprised.

"Actually, somehow it didn't seem possible" you lowered your gaze, "I mean what would it look like? "Hey guys, look who's here, I now manage the Monkeys btw?" - so what?"

You could tell by the Cheshire smile on Matt's bristly face that this was exactly how he thought.

"Oh no, Matthew, don't you-"

"Oh yes, darling, dial FaceTime, you'll show them our doll" the man neighed, turning to Alex, who had been sitting quietly on the couch until this moment, and fidgeted in place after the suggestion.

"For God's sake, Matt, what a kindergarten behavior" the vocalist howled irritably, rolling his eyes, "I don't even remember their names".

The idea of making fun of Turner a little for the morning case with the box and taking revenge seemed to you unexpectedly delightful. Your hand automatically sank into your pants pocket, deftly pulling it out into the light and finding the right WhatsApp chat.

"Don't worry, you just have to say hi to Vic, I'm sure you'll be fine" you sang sweetly, glancing slyly at Matt, who chuckled approvingly, glad that you supported his idea.

Alex only cursed at this and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it. Either from nerves, or putting his hair in order before the call.

You moved from your seat to the couch between Alex and Matt, gesturing for Nick and Jamie to join. You put your hand in front of you so only your face was visible in the camera frame, waiting for one of the guys to take the call. It might have been a little ill-advised to call like this without warning on a workday evening, but anyway it was already too late, as the beeps trailed in a string of sounds. You hoped that they didn't have a concert today, in any other case, one of them would definitely pick up the phone from you. And by a happy coincidence, it was Vic who ended up on your screen.

"What the hell, Miss Boogie, are you really occasionally calling after all this time of silence?" despite Victoria de Angelis's accusatory words, she sounded playful. She was a little disheveled and with a bright blush on her face. People were walking randomly with the string interruptions in the background. Apparently, the guys were at the soundcheck at one of the venues, and Vic recently finished playing.

Four pairs of eyes openly stared at you with undisguised interest after hearing the nickname, demanding an answer, but you just mouthed "later".

"Awww, sweetheart, and I'm happy to hear you again too!" you said with an ironic smile.

"I have a lot of news for you, and I will definitely call you in private soon"

"Are you not alone? Who's with you?" the girl even moved closer to the camera in an attempt to see something.

"Well, I have a little surprise for you. Actually four surprises, but one of them you'll find really special" you said conspiratorially, looking around at the guys who were still out of the picture. Alex sat to your right, trying to portray the most distant look, as if everything that was happening was nothing more than baby talk for him.

"Darling, if you have a group orgy without me, then I will be offended and drop the call" the bassist said threateningly, wiping her forehead with a towel that was hung on her shoulder.

You just burst out laughing "Ok ok, I'm not languishing you anymore. I hope you're ready. Boys, say hi to Vics" and you finally moved the camera further so that Matt, Nick and Jamie, who were sitting to your left, got into the camera frame, Alex's appearance you saved for a dessert.

The musician's reaction exceeded all your expectations. At first she narrowed her eyes, bringing the phone even closer to face, and then she widened them with a loud squeal, jumping up from her seat.

"What the hell, Y/N! What the actual fuck, you're a shitty mutherfucker!!!" she covered her mouth with her hand, chaotically moving the phone in different directions. Apparently, other members of the group came running to her scream, as you heard the voice of Damiano asking what happened.

"What happened?" she repeated "The fucking Arctic Monkeys are sitting next to Y/N!" answering a question off-camera and stabilizing the phone. Now you could clearly see the vocalist leaning over her shoulder, Thomas to the side and Ethan slightly behind.

Finally, the men next to you decided to introduce themselves "Hey, guys, what's new?" Matt said smiling to the camera, Jamie and Nick just waved their hands in a friendly manner.

"Oh my God, what's going on" Vic, still dumbfounded, spoke with a face of complete amazement. Damiano, who quickly figured out the whole situation and realized that Vic was unlikely to be able to communicate normally now, carefully took the phone from her hands.

"Hi, Y/N, long time no see! Hi, boys, how fresh you are" the frontman winked. The words "for your age" were suggested mutely, but David left them behind the scenes. The men next to you just laughed quietly at this remark and saluted the Italian boy.

"Vic, that's not all yet, look who's next to me" wanting to finally finish off your friend, you moved the camera to the side, revealing Alex's presence, who was already sitting with a polite smile on his face, leaning on the sofa armrest.

"Hi, love" Turner murmured hoarsely, turning on his usual charisma. You were surprised how quickly he went from "fuck off everyone" to his stage persona. Indeed, a skill acquired over the years.

De Angelis, after looking at the camera for just a second, squealed even harder than the first time, which you even grimaced a little, because in a quiet studio it sounded deafening.

The camera was still held by Damiano, but the girl in the frame could be seen doubled over, holding back cries of happiness. Her guys just laughed out loud at this, knowing full well what a strong fan of Alex she was.

"Y/N, I'm going to fucking kill you, I'll strap your ass so you can't sit still for another week, what are you doing to me?" Vic didn't let go of expressions, which made the men next to you shamelessly laugh, even Turner smiled predatoryly.

"Holy shit, you're real" the girl muttered in one breath.

Her adoration entertained Alex. Celebrities fangirling celebrities wasn't an unknown story for Alex, so the way Vic behaved didn't annoy him, but brought a feeling of sincere pleasure from what was happening.

"It would be strange if I wasn't, mhm?" the man grunted, changing the position - now he rested elbows on his knees, bringing the face closer to your phone. You could smell his light apple scent from the cider you both drank and the cigarette halo that soaked into all of the frontman's clothes.

Damiano finally decided to take control over the situation by turning the camera completely on himself.

"So, Y/N, if you wanted to surprise Vic, then you succeeded 100%! But we are now at soundcheck, and we don't have much time, and she" nodding towards the bassist "still needs to be brought to her senses. We were extremely happy to hear from you, babe. Call us when you are free and tell us everything in detail. Miss you very much!"

"Guys, me too! Love ya, see you at Glasto!"

"Wait! Take a screenshot!" Vic's desperate exclamation came from Damiano's left side.

He made a focused face, looking for the right buttons, while you and the men simultaneously smiled at the camera.

"Send it to the chat" you asked, ending the call and blowing a virtual kiss. You obviously cut off Vic's "I love you" without being entirely sure it was addressed to you.

The studio immediately froze in deafening silence. You put your phone down on the coffee table, still smiling.

"That was a real buzz, they're cute" Matt said leaning back on the couch. The mood of the guys clearly improved by this little conversation. You were glad that you could somehow diversify their evening after a productive and exhausting day. Even Alex stopped keeping his always compressed lips and frowning eyebrows.

"So, Miss Boogie, right?" Jamie began slyly, reminding you of your infamous nickname.

An approving "ooooo" reverberated around the room, from which you hid behind your palms.

"Damn, I was hoping you'd forget" you muttered from your hiding place.

"C'mon, we're intrigued already" Nick reached out to you through Matt, gently taking your hands away from your face.

Jamie suddenly started chanting your name, encouraging you to reveal this terrible secret, and Matt whistled as if Sheffield FC had just scored a goal.

"God, okay, just shut up please" you gave up.

The four men took more comfortable positions in anticipation of your story.

"In fact, there is nothing special in this story, it's just stupid. When Maneskin was approved for Eurovision, we went to celebrate, how can we not. It was in Milan. We got very drunk in a bar and went for a walk around the city. It was about 3 in the morning, and to entertain ourselves we played Truth or Dare. The most banal thing that could be, but nothing better came to mind. And I chose Dare, 'cause everyone else only cowardly told their secrets. So Vic asked me to dance for a minute on the street to any song that a passerby would name. Well, since at such time you are unlikely to meet any adequate passerby, we only found a beggar in the square. I don’t know how old he was, but the first song that he remembered was Boogie Wonderland" at this point you made a dramatic pause, "so yes, I had to dance to this song at night in front of other poor people who came up to us. Since then they call me Miss Boogie. Everyone is satisfied now, having fun, huh?"

You intentionally crossed your arms in insult, surreptitiously watching the laughing band.

"I bet there's a video" Matt said cheekily.

"Yes, there is, but you'll never see it!" you retorted quickly, glaring at the drummer.

"Your hot cheeks make me want to see this video even more" Nick teased tapping Matt on the shoulder.

"You know what," Alex suddenly announced, "choose any song you want. We play it, and you show the video"

You could swear your jaw was somewhere on the floor.

"Woah, did you decide to go all-in?" Matt asked, also not expecting such a generous offer "Be careful, otherwise you will have to play a Taylor Swift song"

"Ouch, why do you think I like her?"

"Who doesn't like her?"

"Your truth" you nodded approvingly.

"I meant our song. We'll perform it at the concert" Turner interrupted your dialogue, looking at you testily from under his eyelashes.

There was a slight silence, which you broke with a heavy sigh.

"Wow, okay, this is getting interesting" you muttered, leaning back on the couch like Helders had done earlier. The three men to your left looked at each other in surprise, waiting for an answer, while you've been thinking, looking at the frontman.

"Certain Romance," you easily stated, "I want this one"

"Your wish is my command, Miss Boogie," he joked without any hint of smile, standing up "you guys remember how to play it, don't you?"

The guys looked at each other dumbfounded, unable to find words for such a drastic change in the behavior of the vocalist, but after a discordant series of affirmative nods, they received a condescending smile from him.

"Well, that's great, there's still time to rehearse. I propose Sheffield!" Alex said solemnly, thrusting his hands into the pockets.

"Al, ru ok?" Matt raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"All right, man" Turner said artificially.

"This house is a circus indeed" swirled through your head. Alex's behavior was defiant. Emerging into conflict. Literally a minute ago everything was peace and quiet, and now he, like a proud peacock, was arranging a show for you at the level of a cheap soap opera.

"No, but seriously, let's even organize a lottery, since Y/N has such an influence on the setlist" Alex didn't let up.

"Come on, pipe down, you suggested it yourself" Nick intervened carefully, not wanting to stir up the smoldering coals of the conflict.

"And I think all of you are into this idea, aren't you?" Turner didn't raise his low, heavily accented baritone, but the underlying toxicity in his tone was evident, "oh, even better, let's ask our Italian friends for advice! Let's get their opinion and her video as well".

"Alexander, smoke?" you stood up decisively from the couch, grabbing your purse and phlegmatically glancing at the wooden cider box you'd probably have to leave in the studio. But you couldn’t leave the guys in such an atmosphere, so out of courtesy you promised to return again.

"Y/N, no problem, see you before Bristol! Send the screen to our group, 'cause I'm getting jealous for these Italians" Matt gave you an encouraging wink in the end, and you certainly promised to do it tonight.

"They'll kill each other"

"He doesn't stand a chance"

Jamie and Matt said at the same time as the door closed behind you.

Alex imposingly walked ahead, not hurrying anywhere. He politely said goodbye to the security guard, noting that the rental period had already come to an end. Almost bowing, he opened the door to the street for you, artificially gallantly holding it with his hand, still making a show from every gesture, which for some reason made you feel disgusted. You were counting on working with middle-aged men, accomplished musicians, but it feels like you are talking to teenagers.

Damp cold air from the river hit your red cheeks, which made you wrap yourself in a jacket more tightly. Alex took out a pack of Marlboro, offering you one, but nodding to himself, removed it, remembering your words a week ago practically at the same place.

"Well?" he said with a cigarette in his mouth, lighting the filter.

The sky was overcast with a milky haze of fog, which wasn't uncommon for these places, a weak wind was blowing, but not a single sound from the road was heard, which made you hear sparks from ignited tobacco hiss like champagne bubbles, falling on the asphalt.

Alex exhaled noisily, squinting at you with his eyes. His face was faintly lit by the flame of a cigarette, but even in such low light, it was noticeable that his gaze was completely blank. "Amazingly indifferent and deep eyes at the same time. It's impossible to tell anything from them" you thought. Or maybe he was like this only with unpleasant people to him, who you apparently were. You can’t even imagine the way these eyes changed on stage "Where are you real, Alexander?". But instead of asking this, you just threw your head back, tiredly closing your eyelids, showing with your whole appearance how absurd the situation is.

"Alex," there wasn't any visible point to call him Mr. Turner even though you were annoyed "I thought we made a deal, didn't we?"

"Really? When?" his voice sounded even more affected than in the studio, despite the fact that now the man spoke rather quietly and slowly. Or maybe even a whisper would be loud in this ringing silence.

"I just don't understand what the problem is" you continued, as if you didn't hear his words.

"I don't see it either, Miss Y/S"

You raised your eyebrows high as you asked a silent question, which made Alex smirk slightly. Taking a puff, he began to explain to you with the intonation of a parent teaching a child not to put his fingers in the socket.

"Listen, I won't hide it, you brought some chaos to our tour. This is different from your direct duties though - to solve all the problems on our way. But you're a stranger who stirred up our peace and foundation. I was initially against this idea, but James left me no choice. You are undoubtedly an educated young lady, and probably from a moral point of view, I sound like a scoundrel now-"

"You sound unprofessional, Alex. You only make me feel contempt, and I don't care about any moral side"

The frontman looked at you from under his brows, taking out a second cigarette in a row from the pack, waiting for a further reaction, but inside you was a frozen magma that didn't want to break out, muffled by self-esteem. For now.

His words contradicted his behavior. In the morning he carries your boxes and asks for a song advice, and in the evening he gives out this shit. If women's logic is ridiculed by society, then men do not have it at all.

“You know what, when James offered me this job, I was damn excited and proud that I would be working with a team like yours. I was on a cloud nine. But you, Alex, you're just a spoiled boy in the body of a 37-year-old man who hasn't overplayed his ambitions and thinks that his subtle nature is so fragile to understand that you need to hide behind the facade of an asshole so that normal people with good intentions don't crawl into your soul. You are cowardly and arrogant!"

You were breathing heavily, and the words "fool fool fool" stretched on repeat in a red line behind your eyes.

You didn't even understand how they escaped from your lips, absolutely thoughtlessly. You even instinctively wanted to raise a hand to cover your mouth, but pulled yourself back in time, deciding to play to the end. Show after show.

Alex hadn't raised a cigarette to his face during your tirade, so that the wick was almost dead in his fingers. You intensively looked at each other without stopping, and at some point it seemed to you that fear flashed in his pupils. Fear of the revealed truth. However, they were covered with a thick veil of indifference to what was happening in a second, and he finally took the last puff, throwing the butt right on the road.

"Miss Y/S, it seems that you have to go" the musician said unemotionally.

You took one last burning look at his features and, without saying a word, turned around towards your car. How ironic, a week ago you left each other in roughly the same sequence of activities - studio, cider, parking lot, but under completely different circumstances.

Slamming the door shut, you sharply revved, not bothering to warm up the engine, and drove out of the parking lot with a clang of tires. Burning tears of resentment gushed from your eyes, covering the already foggy road in front, but you didn't pay attention.

Your cooperation has just begun, and you have already swept on an emotional swing. Only in the morning you were driving in a car towards the sun and rejoicing at the warm words of your dad, and in the evening you return home, wiping the salty paths with the back of your hand from your face.

You were never embarrassed by tears, you cried out almost all of them during a divorce, but if they dripped from your eyes today, then there was a reason for that. Your parents taught you that after rain there is always a rainbow, after tears there is always peace of mind, you need to be able to live through any emotions in order to turn them into your power later.

***

You haven't seen the boys since that evening until today's early departure for Bristol. Of course, you communicated on all sorts of organizational issues during this time and there was no visible tension, especially since they didn't hear about your quarrel with Alex. You were more than sure that he would not tell his friends about that incident. This is what infringes on him, and therefore makes him weaker, which he couldn't allow.

All these days you have wondered what was the reason for such a sharp behavior, however you couldn't really delve into yourself. Why exactly you were crying - from resentment, overstrain or just an emotional outburst, it was also difficult to understand. Perhaps all together. Over the past month, from your first conversation with Ford to recent events, your life has changed 180 degrees, so it's no surprise that your psyche gave a little glitch.

You've comforted yourself with routines though — setting Grapes up with a friend until your next visit to London, inviting your parents over for dinner to tell you all the details, packing your suitcase for the tour, checking out all the technical stuff, and almost forgetting what kind of adventure you're packing for.

And now, without any idea of the nearest future, you were sitting in a black Mercedes Sprinter between Marcus and James Kerr, Ben was in the passenger seat in front, Steven was riding with the group in the bus. It was only 8 am, you were sleepy, only at the last moment you didn’t forget to remove eye patches before going out, you didn’t even put on makeup, so you sat in the wide sunglasses, even though the sun wasn't visible through the tinted windows of the car.

It seemed that everyone was relaxed, easily communicated with each other and knew exactly what each would do upon arrival at the venue. Unlike you. The schedule was pretty clear - check-in at the hotel, lunch, departure for the soundcheck and then free time for the management and the band, but very busy time for the technicians. Of all this, the most sensible thing was to drink plenty of wine at dinner and walk around the rest of the day in a relaxed state of mind, but those were only pitiful thoughts of creeping fear. Deep inside you were sure that everything would be fine, it couldn’t be otherwise, because even if you didn’t know how to do this or that task, the guys knew their duties, and they physically couldn’t play the concert badly.

"Hey, Y/N, you kinda took working with us too seriously" Marcus snapped you out of your thoughts with his mocking tone.

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, turning to him.

He touched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and chuckled. It took you another couple of seconds to figure out what he meant, so he took advantage of your confusion to explain "you now going to wear glasses in the dark as well?"

The reference to Alex was read transparently, so you imperceptibly flinched and pointedly removed them, as if not wanting to be associated with him at all.

"No, no, I just didn't have time to do my make up" you honestly admitted, shrugging your shoulders ingenuously.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we-" the guy looked around at all the passengers, "we don't understand this here"

You laughed slightly, at the same time relaxing, and asked him a question that had been of interest to you for a long time.

"Why don't you have women in the team? I mean at all"

Instead of Marcus, Ben decided to answer from the front seat, apparently as the eldest among you.

“It didn’t happen on purpose, but later it became kind of unspoken rule. We are here like on the fishing, you know? We leave our wives, spend time within our male company, it’s like an alternative branch of your life, you do quality work here, you feel needed, while no one owe you nothing and you feel absolutely free in your actions, understanding thoroughly those who are around you"

"Are you aware that this is how a normal team should work, regardless of gender? It sounds somehow sexist. Am I really embarrassing you in actions?" you smiled slyly, anticipating the denouement.

"Actually, besides you, we have 3 other women in the team.." Marcus embarrassingly chipped in.

"Guys, don't bother yourself with excuses, I knew who I was messing with" you laughed, crossing your legs. Marcus looked at you dumbfounded, but said nothing, and James just chuckled softly at the window.

"Well, if you knew that, then you also should know about our tradition, right, guys?" Ben began in a conspiratorial tone, exchanging glances with the guys.

"Um, about what?" you arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

"The newbie is signed up for the after-party. Tonight is your first concert, and after that we go to the bar, the drinks are off you! We're equal here" Ben imperturbably continued to scan your reaction with a fox-eye, waiting for an answer. It's not that you're greedy or unable to pay, but to buy drinks for the whole team...

And as if ahead of your question, the man added "enough management and the band".

As if it changed the essence. But you couldn't refuse, so you mumbled something affirmative, getting a roar of male hoarse laughter in response, and starting to laugh at yourself. You appreciated in people, especially males, this ability - to make a woman laugh. In a time of constant change and stress, finding someone who will make you forget about it was very important.

The rest of the road was spent in the same good mood, and these conversations did help you to forget about your anxiety due to upcoming events. Upon arrival, all the management team and the band settled in the hotel. As James promise, you've been given a private suite overlooking the most beautiful park in the city center. But due to an unknown coincidence, you lived not on the same floor with the attendants, but through the door from the group.

Matt carried your things to your room and you agreed to meet for lunch in 20 minutes.

Since you were able to miraculously did a make up even in the car, thanks to the sensitive driving, now you decided to change into more presentable clothes in which you will be at the concert.

Without changing the habit of choosing clothes carefully and for a long time, you took off your hot sweatshirt, remaining in only sweatpants and starting to go through the whole suitcase in search of those things that would match your mood. You had a couple of looks planned, but today's unexpectedly warm weather changed your plans a little, so you confidently took out a black leather skirt and a white blouse.

A piece of matter fit all your forms perfectly, so you were satisfied with the choice, spinning in front of the mirror by the bed. The black bodice harmonized perfectly with the skirt, and the crazy idea of staying only in it, without putting on anything, flashed through your head like a bullet, but flew out just as quickly as soon as you heard the muffled thud of heels on the carpet outside the door and a muttered "Jamie?" at your door followed by a knock. You hysterically shouted "No!" exactly at the moment when the door opened without a click.

"Shit, Y/N!" Alex, not having time to properly enter your room, but having clearly noticed you in a compromising way, abruptly recoiled, remaining in the corridor, but not completely closing the door so that he could hear you, but not see.

"God! What a mess" you pleaded, rushing to the door. You stuck out only your head, meeting the eyes of the musician, who was discomposedly staring at you point-blank.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Why are you naked?"

You asked at the same time, shouting over each other.

"This is my room! And I'm not naked!"

"Where's Jamie? I thought he was at 312" Turner asked, a little bewildered, clearly embarrassed.

"I have no idea where Jamie is. How did you even get in?" you were still half-dressed, hiding most of your body behind a wooden door.

"I knocked, but it turned out that it was not slammed at all"

"What the fuck? Maybe Matt didn't close when he left," you muttered more to yourself. You clearly saw the question “What did Matt do here?” that arose in Alex’s head, but which he never voiced. Clearly realizing that the dialogue could not be continued in this form, you abruptly switched the subject, trying to tear his eyes from your neck.

"I was changing for dinner anyway, so see you there" you sharply slammed the door in front of him, not wanting to go into details, and tiredly leaned your head against the wooden surface from the inside.

"Crazy" you heard quiet along with receding soft steps.

It was your only meaningful conversation with the singer, since that evening. You understood that it couldn’t go on like this for a long time, but at the moment you didn’t have any ideas how to fix the situation. So you just finally put on the look you chose, after checking that the door was locked, then decided to add a black headband, and being satisfied with your appearance, went downstairs.

After lunch, the whole team went to the stadium, where the technicians had already set up half of the equipment. The guys immediately went to the sound check, and you and Steven went to meet Ashton Gate management. It seemed like there was still plenty of time before the concert, and you thought you would have a few more chances to double-check everything, but in the turmoil that was going on behind the scenes, this turned out to be impossible.

To be honest, you were overwhelmed by what was happening. The soft music, people around, the sun rays moving towards the sunset - this whole scene that was unfolding before you as you unexpectedly stepped onto the empty stage a few minutes before the crowd was let into the stadium looked surreal and incredibly familiar, as if you had been here many times before. The noise and chaos behind you contrasted with the tranquility in front of your eyes. The empty space that was about to be filled with a crowd in just a few minutes brought both excitement and serenity. These were the moments that seemed unreal, but made life worth living.

***

The show was about to start, and you stood next to the dark staircase, where the guys from the dressing room were soon to come up. Leaning on the railing, you nervously twirled a lock of hair around your finger. You went through all the items on the checklist in your head, checking off each one mentally, but something still bothered you.

Alex.

Your unfinished conversations and evasive behavior were weighing on you. You felt guilty, knowing that as his manager, you had behaved tactlessly, driven by emotions. It ate at you from the inside. You decided that you would talk to him today, apologize and put this issue to rest once and for all.

Suddenly you noticed a flickering light from the security, which meant that the group is entering the stage, and you turned sharply, both wanting and fearing to see them. As always, looking luxurious, these four men made their way up to the platform, remaining unnoticed by the audience.

"Good luck, guys! I'm buzzing as hell honestly" you tried to sound confident, but your voice trembled on the last word.

"Miss Y/S, is it just me or are you worried about us?" Nick lightly touched your shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"Well, it's my first time with you" realizing how ambiguous that sounded, you interrupted yourself with a laugh.

"Oh, you'll love it, babe" Matt mimicked a voice from a cheap adult movie, tossing a stick in the air. It seemed like he could find the right words in any situation, and in the future, you would highly appreciate this skill.

All this time, you were glancing at Alex out of the corner of your eye, trying to read his emotions, but he calmly adjusted the folds on his unchanging dark blue jacket and stretched his neck with turns left and right. Seeing that the guys had moved a little away from you, you looked at your watch, estimating that you had 5 minutes maximum, and whispered to yourself "now or never".

"Alex!" you called him out loudly, trying to outshout the crowd "I wanted to talk, I know it's not the most appropriate time, but-"

"Y/N, forgive me, okay," the man unexpectedly began, barely approaching you. For the first time, you saw genuine excitement in his eyes, here, in the darkness of the backstage area of a 30,000-seat stadium. For some reason, only now you clearly feel the difference in height between you two. He looked down at you patronizingly. Maybe it was because of his heels or the knot of nerves in your stomach that made you feel so small in your attempt to hide from his penetrating gaze.

"I've been a complete jerk and acted childish from the very beginning. You didn't do anything to deserve such treatment. I don't want our tension to affect the group and our work in any way, so I admit my guilt"

You stood in shock, slightly opening your mouth. You absolutely did not expect such a turn of events, so your entire improvised speech evaporated from your mind instantly. He suddenly smiled softly, raising an eyebrow, as if asking 'well, what now?' Still not believing what you heard, you nodded your head almost automatically.

"Y-yes, you were a jerk indeed. But I also didn't behave entirely correctly, my first impression wasn't great either," you sighed in frustration, recalling your memories, "I suggest we start over, huh? Hi, my name is Y/N, I'm your new tour manager, nice to meet you" and to confirm your words, you gracefully extended your hand to him.

"Nice to meet you too, I'm Alex Turner, sort of singing here," he shook your hand with an energetic movement. His palm was dry and steady, causing a pleasant warmth throughout your body, "just business then?"

"Just business indeed. And a little bit of music" you said, more relaxed, smiling with all 32 teeth, still holding onto his hand.

"Deal, Miss Y/S"

For a moment, the roar of fans faded away for you, and you only saw the outlines of his pupils in the semi-darkness and his fingers firmly holding yours. However, your fragile moment was promptly ruined by-

"Al, c'mon!" Jamie impatiently called, and your hand felt the gusts of wind instead of calloused skin of the frontman. You watched him walk away in his waddle manner, as he suddenly turned and shouted, winking "By the way, nice lace".

It took you a couple of seconds to understand what was said, and when the meaning of his words reached you, you exclaimed in indignation "You, motherfucker!" almost stomping your foot, but your cry was lost in the wild roar of the crowd, as the guys were already on stage.

It was a miraculous sight. Four men made people go into ecstasy just with their appearance - this is the phenomenon of the Beatles, and they were proof that rock and roll is alive. As long as they are alive. Every strum on the guitar strings, every touch of the lips to the microphone, every drumstick strike, every hair flip was special in their performance, they themselves were special.

You were fascinated, to say the least. When the performance came to the last song before the encore, Body Paint, one of your favorite songs from the album, that was definitely made to be played live, you were out of words. The whole song built you up to the climax, to the outro that every time was a pure jamming and improvisation. And you literally exploded in ecstasy when Alex started walking around the stage, unable to stand still from the knocking down energy. He closed his eyes in languor, biting his lips, screaming, throwing out his arms, and you couldn't take your eyes off. You weren't dancing or jumping, you were inseparably watching his every movement, arms folded across your chest. Your mouth was agape against your will, and your eyes eagerly punched a hole in the frontman. This is a unique performance, it's something that is hard to explain without feeling it for yourself. You were made up of his music, you literally felt these waves inside your veins, your brain wasn't able to comprehend what was happening, it was like a catharsis for all of you. And you definitely didn't want to be saved.

Suddenly Alex turned his head to your side, continuing to play some divine riff outlining the Van Gogh fields on the guitar strings. His hair was tousled, shirt unbuttoned, but his jacket fitted perfectly. He rested his eyes on your figure, smiling with one corner of his lips, and you looked at each other for good seven seconds which felt like eternity. You were sure that everything was clear in your eyes, and even if he stood next to you and heard you, you wouldn't be able to utter a word.

What you definitely didn't expect when your eye contact was broken and Alex walked to another side of the stage, that tears would involuntarily flow from your eyes. "What the hell..." you wondered aloud, quickly removing the salty tracks from your cheeks. In fact, you perfectly understood why you were crying. From a sense of greatness. The greatness of music, human synergy and the power of unity. It was too much for you, too strong emotions to bear. It was excellent, it was the taste of life, thanks to which you still were here. "God, if you exist, bless this band, they are saints" although it sounded ridiculous and naive, you seriously were ready to pray for the talent of these guys, for the ability to make other people feel alive. You were in your place, you did everything right, you were cruising the victory. Today he convinced you.

As soon as the last chords of "RU Mine?" were played and the bows to the fans were taken, the men disappeared from the deafening roar behind the dark curtains of backstage. Their hair stuck to their sweat faces, and a distinct masculine smell was coming from their shirts. The guys passed by you with exhausted smiles, unable to utter a word from fatigue, and disappeared into the darkness of the corridors.

You didn't know what to do right now. According to your understanding, your job didn't end with pre-concert organization, there were also post-concert tasks to be done. But you were so lost in emotions that you felt like you were drifting away from an anaphylactic shock.

Unexpectedly, Tyler came to you as he was the last one to come off the stage. He fraternally put a hand on your shoulder, tousling your hair with his heavy palm.

"Well, with the initiation into our hell, sweetheart. How're you?"

"Thrilled, and I want more!" you declared confidently, matching his quick pace that was pulling you further away from the frenzy of the crowd.

"Well, don't doubt that, it's just the beginning" he charmingly smiled, and you couldn't help but mirror his expression.

"Now we're going to celebrate, and you're coming with us" it sounded so authoritative that even if you wanted to object, you immediately closed your mouth, nodding in agreement. "Besides, seems like you need to unwind" you remembered.

You left the stadium only an hour later, apparently, it was a normal time for the guys to "recover". You'd made several jokes about one woman waiting for seven men and received offended and teasing looks in return. You got into the same Mercedes you arrived in that morning, and the driver took you to one of Bristol's typical English pubs that the guys loved so much.

You didn't understand their fondness for these quaint places where the sofa upholstery hadn't changed along with the owner. There were so many modern bars in the city, any of which the band could afford to rent entirely, but they paid tribute to traditions, obviously cherishing memories of their lively youth when they started playing their first concerts in similar places. Such a return to their roots after the thousands-capacity stadiums grounded them well. And the warm nostalgia, slipping across the Guinness glasses every time, was a corner of genuine joy for the guys, the only true luxury they possessed.

And overall, you didn't care where to spend money or on what. After all today's events, which felt like a whole month, you didn't mind anymore. In the morning, you looked at your apple orchard in the early mist of suburban London, then stood half-naked in a five-star hotel room in front of a world-renowned music star, and now, in the evening, you huddled next to him on an old leather couch under a red velvet chandelier, drinking a B-52.

Glasses, shots and colorful bottles flashed in front of your eyes like a kaleidoscope. Your head was spinning from the amount of alcohol, and your cheeks hurt from laughter.

"My dear mates, I propose a toast to Miss Y/S and her first concert with us! I don't know if she understands where she has ended up, but we'll make sure she has a great time with us, right, guys? To Y/N!" Matt solemnly proclaimed, rising from the table, and 8 hands, pouring drinks onto each other, reached towards the center of the table to clink glasses.

"Guys, thank you for this opportunity, thanks to James for his unplanned vacation, thanks to Steven and Marcus-" although the latter wasn't here, you decided to thank him as he had been providing you with all kinds of help during these weeks, "for their support and adaptation, and of course, to you Monkeys, for accepting me. I do like your crazy Monkey house" you joked, but it didn't negate the truth. Despite all the past disagreements with the lead singer, you felt that you were still doing everything right. And even if you hadn't gone on this adventure today, you would still feel grateful to fate for such an opportunity to be at the center of life.

"Glad to hear that," Jamie chuckled ironically, "as they say, welcome aboard"

And with these words, you all whistled, and Tom even shouted like a saloon girl from the Wild West. Your evening, or rather the night, continued until 3 am, fortunately there was no concert the next day, so you could at least sleep in a bit. You looked in horror at the amount you had drunk, trying to estimate how long it would take to recover the contents of your wallet. But you had consumed so much gin and tonic that the only thing that really worried you was how to walk straight for at least 2 meters to the bar to pay for it all.

"Drinks on me!" you declared with a mischievous smile to the group as you headed towards the bar counter.

"What, for everyone?" Matt playfully refined.

"Well, yeah," you didn't have the energy to realize his surprise, but he also didn't have the energy to argue with you, "that's no problem".

And thus, the following events spun in your head like a foggy whirlpool. Here you were finally breathing in the fresh air of the street, tilting your head towards the purple sky, then you were half-lying on someone's shoulder in the black minivan, and finally for no reason you were walking barefoot on a soft hotel carpet, but there were no shoes in your hands as well.

You didn't have any memories of walking into your room either. But in the moment, the feeling of soft snow-white hotel sheets flooded your body with long-awaited bliss. You instantly fell into the arms of Morpheus, only on the verge of consciousness noticing that someone took off the headband from your hair, which had been squeezing your head tightly, and silently closed the door.

You may be too drunk to remember each of your actions clearly, but you definitely wouldn't mistake the familiar scent of cigarettes in the room.

---------------------------------------------------

A/N: Oh, so much has happened in one chapter, and this is just the beginning of the tour... I decided to tell the background of Y/N for a better understanding of her actions. What do you think, maybe you want more of "Italian friends" in the work? Whose line do you want to read in more detail? Share your emotions, it is incredibly valuable to me that someone reads this work actually!

xo🤍

Taglist: @missbabyjay @rentskenobi @findmeincorneliastreet @indierockgirrl here it is!

*if you want to be removed or added to the taglist, feel free to ask me!

117 notes · View notes

wylanslcve · 1 month

Text

So if you've been following me on Instagram you would have seen me say recently that I've decided to take a step back from posting/sharing/creating Grishaverse content due to what Leigh Bardugo said (or rather what she didn't say) about the situation in Palestine. For context, during the press tour for The Familiar, an audience member asked Leigh about the justification for non-BIPOC authors profiting off BIPOC stories yet not advocating for real-life BIPOC people (since Leigh has been silent on Palestine since October, despite having expressed solidarity with Palestine in the past).

The video (which you can watch here) has been circulating the internet for a while, and I've already spoken about this on Instagram. I just forgot I had Tumblr for a second there, hence why I'm only addressing this now despite having already spoken about this. However, as someone who has an entire online presence dedicated to Leigh's work, it would be wrong and rather hypocritical of me to not address this.

Disclaimer: This is not a conversation about whether or not white/white-passing authors should be allowed to write BIPOC stories, as many people both in the comments of the original video and online generally have taken it. The issue isn't that Leigh is writing BIPOC stories - it's that she's writing them and choosing not to advocate for real BIPOC people.

The audience member asked a confronting but necessary question, and isn't harassing Leigh as many people online have interpreted it. Holding your favourite people accountable isn't "harassment", especially when that person is a successful author profiting off stories that reflect issues in the real world. Art is inherently political whether or not you want to acknowledge it. This also isn't about specifically asking Leigh this question because she's Jewish - it's because she profits off these stories and yet when these exact same issues are prevalent in the real world, suddenly they're "too political" for her to speak up about despite having expressed solidarity in the past. It has nothing to do with her being Jewish.

However, what's going on in Palestine isn't a political issue. It's basic human rights. It's about humanity, and acting as if posting about this issue is "performative" is ridiculous. I don't know what she's doing behind the scenes, so I'm not going to act as if she isn't doing anything outside of social media because I simply don't know, but when you have an online presence as big as Leigh's you should be using that platform to raise awareness and express solidarity. I understand that it's very easy to come across as "performing activism", especially on social media, but Palestinians have asked us time and time again to use our platforms to help raise awareness and amplify their voices. When you're someone like Leigh who profits off stories of the trials and tribulations of BIPOC people, the very least you can do is talk about the atrocities being committed against BIPOC people in real life.

No one is expecting you to be an expert on what's going on. If you've previously posted misinformation, why not learn from it and actually educate yourself and do better? You're literally an author who profits off stories of colonialism, oppression, dissemination, apartheid, segregation and genocide and suddenly that happening in real life is "too political"? And the amount of privilege you have to not want to get involved in talking about a real-life genocide because you "stopped being political on Instagram" is laughable. Just feeling sad about it isn't going to do anything. It doesn't erase the fact that an entire people are being ethnically cleansed in a genocide you refuse to talk about.

The Grishaverse means so much to me, it's gotten me through some extremely tough periods of my life, but I cannot in good conscience continue to support an author who chooses silence over her own humanity. All she had to say in response to that question was "free Palestine", but she instead said something akin to "I know about what's going on and I know silence and feeling sad about it probably isn't enough, but I'm just not going to do anything about it". Again, I know she's advocated for Palestine in the past, but why not continue doing so? No one is stopping her - she's actively chosen to stop.

As for my accounts? I'm still deciding what to do with them. I won't be deleting them, I'm not going anywhere, but I won't be posting edits or sharing analyses or general posts about the Grishaverse until Leigh decides to do better. This blog will probably turn into a multifandom blog, but who knows at this point. All I know is that I won't be promoting Leigh's work.

42 notes · View notes

mebemilena · 5 months

Text

Maya's worst student

English is not my first language, sorry for mistakes. I'm SLOWLY getting back to writing fanfiction.

Female reader, but i think i didn't mention pronouns. It's kinda of an AU

summary: You're Maya's worst student.

When you decided to learn ASL you thought an online dictionary would be enough. But as you got more into it, you realized that nothing is better than having someone to practice with you. Just as any other language, having a practice partner was way better than just repeating the signs along the lady on the screen of your computer.

You looked for a local partner, someone who lived close to you so you could go out and practice daily vocabulary. The website suggested a nearby professor and you contacted her, finding out she was a cousin of a friend of yours.

"Maya Lopez", you practiced her name in signs, not wanting to embarrass yourself when you first met. Her profile showed a short video of her introducing herself and welcoming the new students.

Maya was a kick boxing fighter. She was born deaf and worked with her cousin fixing cars and motorbikes. She liked opened spaces and ice cream, and her favorite color was red.

You could learn all that information from her video.

The first meeting was for introduction and practicing the alphabet. You learned her sign and she came up with one for youseslf, as you slowly bonded. A month later, you noticed your vocabulary growing but it was still very limited. Even with a tutor and the online dictionary, you felt like you still had difficulties in learning.

You and Maya became friends and your teacher-student relationship was mostly put aside. She'd take you for sweets, teaching you the signs to order her favorites, and you'd show her more about yourself, asking how to sign for this and that.

It was easy to have her around and you enjoyed each other's presence a little too much. You caught yourself thinking about her, planning small dates with her with the excuse of them being extra classes.

"I think I'll ask her out. Like, on a date.", you mentioned to Biscuits, her cousin and your friend, making him smile wildly. "That'd be nice.", he encouraged. "She'd liked that.", he said.

Biscuits was known for giving out too much information without being asked to. He was just that naive. His little confirmation made your heart jump on its cage. You let his words sink into you and gave it deep thought, postponing your meetings with Maya as you debated how to approach her, not noticing it actually put some distance between you two.

- - -

Maya sit on the outside of her favorite bakery, playing with a croissant on her plate. You were supposed to meet her one hour ago. At first she thought you were just late, but now it seemed like you were not coming at all.

She tried texting you, getting no reply. When she was about to put her phone back in her pocket, ready to leave, you arrived approaching her table in a rush.

She looked at you with a serious expression, crossing her arms in front of her, waiting for you to explain why you were so late and hadn't texted her.

You noticed she was upset and felt guilty. You could have texted her before but you were too busy learning the signs to confess, but now you were so nervous it seemed like you forgot even the letters of your own name.

Maya realized you were not gonna speak so she took the lead. She was tired of fooling around.

"I can't be your teacher anymore. I fell in love with you, this is not professional.", she signed, an unbothered expression on her face. As if she was not opening her heart to you.

You looked at her with lots of concentration, but could only understand a few signs. At times like this, you realized you really needed more practice.

"I know we became friends and i like what we have. But this can't continue.", she went on, still standing by the table. "Whenever we meet, i want to hold you. When we're together i want to be close to you, to feel you. It's okay if you don't feel the same, i just really wanted you to know.", she placed her hands on her pockets, trying to be patient and give you time. it didn't last long.

"Say something!", she pushed, irritated that you were just staring at her this whole time.

"I don't understand.", you signed slowly, disappointed at your own lack of vocabulary.

Maya huffed. She signed to you again but it made no difference. "I don't understand. Sorry.", you repeated. She grew more impatient.

"Download a dictionary and go study more.You sign like shit", she signed, scolding you for being her worst student.

"That i understand.", you replied, your hands moving a bit faster for the signs you were more familiar with.

Maya looked at you and took a deep breath. Again. "You're silly. And beautiful. It feels nice to be around you, i have a lot of fun when we hang out. But we can't be friends.", she finished.

You looked at her confused. "We can't be friends? Why?", you asked, sadness adorning your face.

"I don't want to be your friend. I want to kiss you.", she signed and waited for you to reply, expectation boiling in her insides.

But you only stared at her confused. "I don't understand."

Maya lost her temper. It was infuriating how she was trying to confess and you were clearly not studying half of what you should. She took you by the collar and kissed you full on the mouth, feeling your lips vibrate as you hummed in surprise.

"You understand that?', she signed exasperatedly, waiting for you to finally say something.

"I don't understand.", you started. Maya was ready to throw you inside the bakkery through the window but you continued.

"If you kiss me again maybe i understand better.", you signed in reply and her annoyance slowly faded.

Check out my redbubble shop: https://www.redbubble.com/people/MilenaFernandes/shop?asc=u

toss a coin to your artist (me) at ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/mebemilena

#maya lopez #maya lopez x reader #echo #alaqua cox #mcu

44 notes · View notes

dontfindmerain · 1 year

Text

pebble

(for my lovely @wiipes bcus ur works are amazing)

warnings: slightly suggestive

enjoy my first fic lol

It’s not a common occurrence to be roommates with someone famous. Well, he might not be considered a celebrity but Gods did he have a following. A few years ago you put out a sort of advertisement looking for someone to share rent with after your ex-roommate decided to leave without warning you. Wilbur had been desperately looking for a new place to stay and messaged you.

The both of you fit quite well together, and you lived together for quite some time before you became aware of his presence online. When you eventually did, there wasn’t any argument or rash discussion, just a simple curiosity that he was happy to indulge. You would often put his streams on in the background, never really chatting or donating, just observing. The numbers surprised you at first, not quite comprehending how he could ignore them, though later on you grew accustomed to his fans and even became one yourself. When he started Lovejoy he would play the snippets for you, giving you sneak peaks at lyrics and melodies. It was his small way of continuously including you in his life, excited to share new things with you. He even had you in his office while he streamed sometimes, wanting you to be closer to him.

After one particular stream, you had gone to the shops to pick up food and arrived back at the office to a stuck Wilbur. You had forgotten the rule about his office door. You laughed at the expression on his face when he saw you through the window, hitting the glass and begging for you to let him out.

“You alright, Wil?” You chuckled after finally getting it open, “Didn’t mean to leave you trapped.”

“I can’t believe you did that! I was stuck for a whole 14 minutes,” he gasped dramatically, smiling down at you. “Did you bring me my food at the very least?”

Your tone turned sarcastic, teasing him, “Oh gosh! I’m so sorry, I completely forgot about you. Nope, this is all mine. Looks like you’ll have to starve, Wil.” You smile, holding up the two bags of food, way too much for just one person, before handing him his order. “Of course I got your food, dumbass. Now let’s go home so we can eat, please?” You say turning around and heading back toward the stairs.

“I don’t think I like your tone very much, Pebble,” he smiled, hurrying to walk beside you. It was his favorite nickname to use ever since you had been locked out of the flat with a dead phone and resorted to throwing pebbles at his window.

The walk home was quick, the two of you chatting about nothing in particular. He opened the door for you when you arrived, handing you the food bags and taking your coat, an unspoken tradition.

“Can you grab the silverware for me, pretty boy?” you ask, immediately covering your mouth at the pet name. You had never called him that before and had no clue as to why you did just now, but you hoped he hadn’t heard it.

His eyes widened in a similar shock, “What was that?”

“I said, ‘Can you grab the silverware for me?’” You replied, your face flush with embarrassment.

“No no no, I specifically heard something else. Why don’t you repeat it for me?” he teased. You shook your head and attempted to push past him, deciding to grab the cutlery yourself, but he didn’t budge. “Come on, now, the food will get cold, just tell me what you said,” he smirked at you, placing his hands on your shoulders to stop you from getting around him. Your blush deepened as you continued to deny having said anything before giving up.

“Fine! I called you ‘pretty boy’! But it’s just an observation really, you are a boy and you are pretty. I think that’s quite accurate,” You rambled on, his smile getting wider.

“Alright, alright, Pebble, calm down. You didn’t upset me, I just enjoy messing with you,” he laughed out.

Your face was still red after dinner was finished. You took all the dishes and began to clean up. His eyes were on you the whole time, “You’re still red ya’ know.”

“What? I am not! Shut up,” you mumbled, busying yourself with cleaning and avoiding his gaze. You suddenly felt his presence behind you.

“I like when you get flustered, it’s cute,” he speaks softly, placing his head on top of yours and his hands at your waist. His demeanor was cautious, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You turn around to face him and suck in a breath, his face is dangerously close to yours and his scent was intoxicating. ‘Was he always this handsome? Wow, his eyes are pretty.‘ Your mind went incredibly fast, the deep blush returning to your face as you looked up at him. His eyes glanced at your lips before looking back at you.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered, so quiet you wonder if you had hallucinated. You nod and he leans in, gently pressing his lips to yours. He pulls away for just a moment before kissing you again, just as careful, but this time with more confidence, his hands moving to the back of your neck. This is clearly something he has been wanting to do for a while. He pulls away, watching you with a smile on his face. “You alright?”

You swallow before answering, “Yeah, just nervous I guess.”

“There’s no need to be nervous.. I’m not gonna bite you or anything,” he says, his smile softening as he notices how flushed you are. You laugh and speak in a quiet sarcastic tone, “What if I want you to bite me?” You stick out your tongue at him and he laughs.

“I might consider it if you ask real nice,” he says playfully, reaching out and pulling a loose piece of your hair back into place. You shuddered at the thought, mind wandering to less appropriate places. He leans into you, whispering in your ear, “You’re adorable, you know that?” He presses a small kiss into your neck before pulling away again, clearly feeling quite smug with himself.

You feel as though your brain has short circuited, you become incredibly flustered and struggle to make eye contact with him. He grabs your jaw lightly, forcing you to face him. “Do you want me to bite you?” he asks, his voice much lower than before. You nod without thinking twice.

He smiles and pulls you in gently, moving his hand from your jaw to your cheek. He kisses you passionately, before slowly biting down on your lower lip. His free hand grips your waist as he sucks on it, enjoying the change in your breathing. Again, he pulls away, “Is this what you wanted, love?” The smile on his face is proud when you mutter a small yes. He kisses you again, this time biting harder. His hand gently wraps around your neck, holding you in place. His lips travel from yours down your neck, sucking dark marks into your skin. His knee pushes between your legs, teasing you further before he stops all together.

“Fuck..” you breathe out.

“Yeah?” he teases, “Here, let me help you finish cleaning up and then maybe we can talk?” His head tilts and you melt in his arms. He’s just too damn cute. You nod and the both of you work quickly, putting everything away and wiping down surfaces. When you’re done, he grabs your hand and drags you to the sofa.

“You are positively gorgeous, Pebble” he mutters, sighing before turning serious. “Y/n, I love having you around, spending time with you, getting dinner and such. Gods, I love simply talking with you,” he pauses nervously, “Do you think..? Would you like to be my partner?”

Your eyes widen and your voice is soft, “Are you serious, Wil? I would love to.” He smiles and pulls you in for a small kiss.

“I really like you a lot, Pebble. It’s been absolute hell trying to hide it,” he chuckles.

“I guess I kinda like you too, Wil. I mean, you’re alright,” you say playfully. He hits your arm and laughs.

“I’m amazing, thank you very much!”

#mosslovestherain #moss writes #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur soot fluff #fluffy fluff fluff #my sweet boy #hello guys

135 notes · View notes

qinluofu · 1 year

Text

⊹﹒nagi seishiro & mikage reo x f!reader

♬﹒before reading : bad writing ( / srs ), pre blue lock reo & nagi, poly relationship, completely sfw, nagi and reader are childhood bffs and met reo in high school, reader is a bit oblivious, since this is poly there's gonna bisexual everyone but still reader centered fic ♬﹒summary : a small story about how you, nagi and reo became a thing

it all started when you and nagi attended high school. while you were done fetching your books from the lockers, you witnessed the reo mikage talking to nagi by the staircase, your long time best friend. it was like your body automatically approached the both of them, feeling a bit intimadated by the presence of a stranger.

and before you could even question it, reo and nagi were bringing you along with them to everywhere they went.

it was history by then, reo was like an unexpected blessing. he always motivated you and nagi whenever things were down, offered to help in the fullest. he paid for all the meals, took you and nagi to arcades, he'd send you guys the biggest piles of birthday gifts and by then it wasn’t just you and nagi anymore; it was you, nagi and reo.

everyday passed by in a whim, you thought your life really couldn’t get better than this.

but god had plans ; what you didn't realise was the way that reo kept sneaking glances at you while playing soccer, how his hands would somehow snake his way to your waist when another guy gives you an all too comfortable stare, the way that he would willingly pick you up to school, the way that he lightly scolds you whenever you told him about your guy crushes, foul mouthing a little bit too hard.

what you also DID NOT realise was the way that nagi, sometimes also sneaking glances at you in soccer, staring at your game profiles way too long waiting for you to come online, letting you pick out his cactus ( you named it choki ), sleeping in your bed claiming it was too much of a hassle to move into his own.

they were just so in love with you, poor boys not knowing what to do .

edit : forgot to mention this was tbc 😖, i just wanted to write this thought out

#bluelock #nagi seishiro #nagi x reader #reo mikage #reo x reader #bllk reo #bllk nagi #itoshi archive fics

83 notes · View notes

simpliao · 2 years

Note

plz im so excited i found your blog!! if you feel like it, could you write something about him and the reader getting into a fight and the reader tries to storm out but he won't let them bc (not to be parasocial) he seems like the type to have a "never go to sleep angry" mentality and im a sucker for hurt/comfort :(((( thank you in advance, and if you dont get to it thank you anyways for the writing you've already done!!

growing pains ; (irl) schlatt x reader

summary : although schlatt is comically angry for entertaining purposes online, it doesn't mean his anger doesn't seep into his real life too. moving in is stressful, he does it enough to know. although when it's someone else moving into his space, the stress of the change puts a strain on the both of them.

info : swearing, angst turned fluff, she/her, afab reader.

a/n : happy to hear it, anon ! it's such a blessing to have you here, again, thanks for the support ! ♡ I'm not a hundred percent confident in this one shot, but hopefully you enjoy ! thank you so much for requesting !

Budding romance was meant to be idyllic and sweet, right? Being with a newly found lover was supposed to be peaches and roses, the kind of happily ever after feeling foretold in every folk tale out there. That's what would have been figured by Schlatt, having a harboured love of sappy sweet love songs, being new to this kind of thing made actually being in a relationship throw him for a loop. Sure he's had his fair share of one night stands and school crushes, but it never extended to the level of which he's shared with Y/n.

She was this kind of ethereal perfection in his eyes, adoring her as if the woman hung the very stars and moon themselves. After a handful of months, of course he thought it would be logical to ask her to move in. She slept over at his place quite a number of times, she always seemed to at home anyways, what would be the difference of actually having her all the time?

A lot, actually. It started good, moving her in was actually fun. The pair seeing who could manage to carry the heaviest box up to his place, racing to see who could make it back down the building first, and of course hearing her little stories about every item she owned. Finding a place for everything took some creativity, but worked out in the end.

The first night also went swimmingly, having his woman all to himself was a nice change. That was until that following morning he awoke to his bathroom occupied and showing no signs of ever opening up. Just fifteen more minutes! Or so she said, it was never just fifteen minutes. He adored hearing her laugh, but not so much when he was demanding for her to open up so he could shit. It was easy in time to get fed up with the friends she'd bring home, having their little get together's while he was banished to the bedroom to sulk. Not even beginning to mention that one 'guy friend' he just wants to strangle.

Her nagging as he so lovingly referred to it to his friends, was also not appreciated. It's as since she moved in all he heard was complaints directed towards him, you're too loud, you never hang out with me anymore, could you put that in the sink? It was like living with his own mother and slowly he grew to loathe her presence.

It wasn't exactly the easiest for her either.

Being that the New Yorker didn't enjoy having many people over, he never really had a reason to keep his place clean. She'd been over, and being that she never used to stay over longer than a night and morning, it was easy enough to ignore. When it was that she lived with cluttered counters and dirty dishes that sat way longer than they should, she ended up taking upon the role of housewife (or glorified maid).

The mostly convenient-oriented, and occasional forgetful male had bought machines to do basic care for Jambo; and yet at times forgot to empty or refill said machines. That feeling of taking on all the home responsibility was suffocating, and yet she only mentioned it briefly in passing considering that it was his place. She felt more like a guest than a member in what was supposed to be their home.

And the lack of sleep from his irregular sleep habits causing him to be practically yelling into late hours of the night didn't help a bit. Despite knowing she loved this gentle giant, for his hidden away kind nature and charming personality, she grew sick of it all.

Life continued on, and despite inconveniences, the two pretended everything was okay for a while. It worked for the most part, but bottling feelings only caused them to pressurize until the whole thing blows up in their faces. Today was supposed to be another one of those days, unremarkable and really just another Tuesday. However, what they say about the straw that broke the camel's back is soundly true.

From the afternoon onwards, the pair hadn't stopped going at it; both parties forgetting what exactly started this fight in the first place. This shouting match being the only relief they'd had to voice out their issues, by the time the sun had sunk beneath the horizon and a blanket of Prussian blue long having been spread across the city skies, it had gotten far too personal. It was like every word was meant to attack the other person, it was only a matter of time before words were exchanged that weren't meant to be said.

"Have you ever considered the fact that I don't actually want you here?" Schlatt had been seeing nothing but scolding red, speaking lies with such conviction for just a minute he believed it was true. And yet as the moment settled, and rather than yell back something else, the woman he knew he still adored gave a stare of a completely crushed spirit. Mouth hung agape, shock and hurt evident from her complete silence. He could see tears begin to well up, and that's when his expression fell. He stumbled on his following words, although her name could be made out as she dashed past him.

He hesitated going after her, she had just gone to the bedroom and he figured they needed some time to cool off before attempting to meld anything back together. It was only when he spotted her speeding out with a hastily packed suitcase that he bolted to apprehend her. "Y/n." "If that's how you really felt you should have just said so." He was quick to grab her wrists to prevent her from taking off, "there's a lot of things we both should have said." His accent being what it is, made his words sound unfairly harsh. "Schlatt, please, I get it. You don't want me here." "No! Listen, just..."

He could feel anger involuntarily rising from his chest. So knowing restraining her like this and ending up in another bout of hostile yelling, he made the decision he knew would at least calm him down enough to speak out what needed to be said. So tugging her closer, she practically fell into his arms. Although the first couple moments she tried to fight it again, uttering his name as a plea that made a diminuendo with every cry. All he did was stand there, chin resting upon the top of her head, his eyes closed and basking in the feeling of her held close, her overly scented shampoo filling his sinuses; a hit of dopamine rushing his brain. They stood like that for a while, the need for a timeout to the relentless fighting well needed. His thoughts cleared, for the first time today that was, and he began by squeezing her closer before letting much needed words escape him. "I'm sorry."

By this point, she had also given up trying to escape his embrace, blinking away tears as best as she could. "Listen to me, Y/n." He spoke in a tone she never expected to be so faint, delicate and airy as if should he speak above this hushed whisper the woman held in his arms would shatter. He took in a deep breath, buying time in an attempt to find a way to word this properly. "I'm just not used to this, used to us." Again, attempting to buy time to find a way to put his feelings into words, a hand slinked up to tangle his fingers into her hair. "But that doesn't mean I don't like us. It's..." He sucked in his lips, unsure of what to call it.

"Growing pains?" Her strained voice caught his ears, even if muffled against his shoulder. "Yeah, they're growing pains. And I'm not perfect... And no matter how in love I am with you, you're not perfect either. That's okay." Smaller arms slinked up his back, a small tug a weak return to the death grip he held her with. "I still love you too, Schlatt..." The way her face nuzzled into him made his heart melt and familiar butterflies fill his stomach, ones that had seemed to have gone missing for some time; and yet came back in full force. Dread at knowing of how poorly he spoke of her weighed in on him. "I'm willing to work on it if you are." He lessened his hold of her, pulling away to look down into her eyes.

Eyes that looked back up at him with the same kind of guilt he felt weighing his body down, those glass-like doe eyes tugging at strings of his heart he didn't even know he had. "I'm sorry too, I'm so sorry..." "Hey, we're both assholes, it's okay." The reassuring smile he flashed easing her own pressure, her own misconducts coming back to haunt her. Larger hands lovingly cupped her face as they had so many times before, wiping away those pesky tears for her. "I'm willing to go the distance with you." She assured, to answer his comment a short while earlier. The atmosphere of their home alleviated, and finally it felt breathable. "Let's unpack your suitcase then, and tomorrow morning we can talk more thoroughly about it." "Forget about the suitcase, we've been fighting all day. I just want to sleep."

With a grin that told her that everything would be okay, he slowly let his arms slide off her, one hand gently grabbing hold of hers in the lightest of holds. "Let's get some sleep then, sweetheart."

302 notes · View notes

liyawritesss · 1 year

Note

can you do a shuriri x black fem! reader fluffy story where reader wants to surprise shuri x riri by spoiling them and taking them out to the movies and bowling (or any fun activity) ? thanks in advance 🫂

ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ʀɪʀɪ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴜʀɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Characters: MCU!Riri Williams & Shuri Udaku

Type: Headcanons

Synopsis: In which you notice your girlfriend is going through a rough patch, and you decide to help her unwind a little.

Warnings: some cursing but overall nothin but fluff!!

A/N: This was originally a poly-relationship request with shuri, riri, and reader, but I don’t feel qualified enough to write a poly relationship and I don’t want to offend anyone that is in one. So i did them as separate scenarios. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Tags: @verachii @inmyheadimobsessed @badass-dora-milaje @babyboiboyega @rxcently @chrome-edition @yvxmpire

Shuri Udaku

Shuri is always tucked away in her lab - this is nothing new. The Wakandan royal was known for filling her days with lab work, to the point where she forgot to take care of other responsibilities, including herself.

It takes a lot to get Shuri to even agree to leave her lab for a short while. So when she finally succumbs to your whims, you only have so much time on your hands to help your lover unwind.

You first start with a decent meal. Youre sure that the only thing Shuri’s had that day is a muffin and some fruit, so you sit her down and serve her some of her favorite food. It took a while to learn how to cook it near perfection, and the smile that appeared on her face was absolutely worth it.

Next, you’d lead her to your shared bedroom. Your clothes for the evening were laid out and ready to go. A matching set. Of course Shuri has questions, but you shush her before she can ask anything, and instruct her to get dressed because you two were going out for the evening.

In Wakanda, there’s always activities to do for everyone of any age, at any given point in time. You first stopped at the marketplace, planning to hit up the street stands and vendors. There’s music playing which definitely helps Shuri unwind a little bit. You grab you and Shuri something light to drink - she’s never been one for alcohol, but the fruity drink was too tempting to pass up

Next up, you step to another vendor and grab a couple of snacks to keep you satiated throughout the night. Shuri’s attention gets drawn to a group of dancers and you two watch them for a while, giving praise and congratulating them on a good performance once its over. They were very accepting of the praise from the future queen.

After chilling with the dancers, you start leading Shuri to the river. You have her close her eyes and you're leading her by her hand. And when she opens them, it’s revealed that you planned a little moonlight picnic for her. At this point she’s probably on the verge of tears because fuck, she really needed this, really needed a break from everything.

Shuri rids her mind of thoughts of her lab and her science projects and focuses all her attention on you and the love and care you're showing her. She’s eternally grateful for you and your presence by her side, and shows as such with a passionate kiss under the moonlight.

Riri Williams

Much like Shuri, Riri tends to hide herself away in her makeshift lab in her home's garage. She’s always tinkering with something, putting together little machines and working on rebuilding her suit. Paired with online classes and general teenage pressures, one can imagine how tense Riri is.

It takes for Ronnie, Riri’s mother, to call you up and ask you to get her child into some sunlight. So you do a lil pop up on the engineer on a day where Riri just can’t seem to get any of her things to work right. The offer to go for a drive to clear her head is enticing, and with enough coaxing, she takes you up on it.

You wait for her to get dressed into something comfy (which you don’t hesitate to notice how it matches your clothes subtly) and the first destination of the day is to Navy Pier. Riri loved the pier for many reasons - two of them being the food and the view. So of course you spend a good couple of hours at the pier racking up a good selection of food from the various restaurants, cafes and bakeries inside.

The few games and entertainment attractions at the pier, Riri begs you to go to each one. Even the ferris wheel (and you know why the ferris wheel - she’s been watching those cliche movies again where the lovers kiss at the top of it), and you entertained her.

You could see the inner child in her beaming so bright when doing the freeze tag game, going at it in the arcade rooms, and at some point, she started randomly playing tag with a bunch of little kids whose parents were on the phone, not paying attention to them.

Riri was practically jumping in her place while she held your hand in line for the ferris wheel, garnering a few unwanted stares. But you stared back harder, not wanting their judgemental looks to ruin your pretty girl’s excitement.

When getting on the ferris wheel, and reaching the top where the wheel paused for a couple of seconds, Riri took the time to thank you for taking her out and helping her unwind. She confesses that she needed it, but just couldn’t find it in her to leave the garage. And your response is to kiss her while at the top of the ferris wheel, and tell her you’ll be there to help her when she can’t help herself

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

90 notes · View notes

fabraies · 1 year

Text

LESS THAN ZERO

notes n warnings ❅ *: snowboarder! reader x coach! Iwaizumi, all fluff and cute winter wonderland theme, a little angst, heavily inspired by Taylor swift’s folklore album, bad pacing as always, areblogs are always appreciated, and I hope you all have a great ski season! wc 4.2 k

part 2 of snowflakes are kisses from heaven

DAY 1

You hated this voice. Echoing all over the ski slope, everyone could hear it loud and clear: you had not managed to keep up with the public’s expectations. The distorted voice continues calling out the podium winners, eventually taking a break to build the suspense when he gets to the gold medalist. The gold medalist that should’ve been you.

“First place! Chloe Kim of the United States of America!”

You look down to your feet as the Chinese translator takes over, and play with you bronze medal. You’re not mad at her. You’re mad at yourself. 'If onlys’ quickly fill up the entire functioning parts of your brain. If only you had worked harder. If only you had listened to your coach about this and that. If only you had worked longer. If only you hadn’t brushed off the criticism online. If only.

Looking back at the past months, disappointment takes over. You’re about to enter a self-deprecating inner rant when a someone grabs your hand, and you almost feel bad for wishing it would be somebody else.

“Are you thinking of getting off that podium anytime soon? Or maybe you’d rather sleep there.” A deep voice chuckles. You don’t find it funny.

“Iwaizumi.” You nod, acknowledging his presence. You don’t want anything to do with him at the moment. You two had built some sort of a friendship throughout the games, playful banter making up most of your conversations, but right now, you don’t feel like it. Especially since he’s Chloe Kim’s coach.

“Who pissed in your cereal?” He jokes, again, and this time, you don’t bother answering. You don’t have to, because he gets it. You wish he didn’t. Iwaizumi puts his hands on your shoulders, and continues, “Come on! Don’t act like third place is bad! These were your first games, you’ll have plenty of time to get first place at any other time.” He tries to make you see the bright side of things, knock some sense into you. It doesn’t work, as you just decide to shrug his hands off instead.

You can’t stand the act you’re putting up in front of him anymore. You take off your helmet, step down from the podium, and there it is. The disappointment comes by again, because if only the step was a little bit bigger. Maybe you would’ve been more satisfied then.

“Of course you’d say that.” You scoff lightly, “Your trainee just won. For whom, by the way, I’m very happy. Really, I am. But you didn’t have time after your first Olympics, and that’s why you’re on the sidelines right now. There’s a fifty fifty chance I might end up like you before the next Olympics. So excuse me, but no.” You turn on your heel shortly after that, not expecting the conversation to go any further.

“I get it.” He calls out to you.

For a while, you don’t say anything. The cold mountain breeze blows softly, the snowflakes silently settle on your hair. You realize you forgot to put on lipbalm this morning, and carefully reach up to your lips. The bumps you feel with your fingers confirm that they’re chapped: even more so with the cold.

Hajime catches his breath before starting again. “I get it. You’re an athlete, our careers end early. We don’t have much time and that’s how it is. It’s unfair. And that, is exactly why you can’t let this get to you. You don’t have time to bitch and moan.” He couln’t help adding a personal aside; “Besides, you know, for somebody who’s never been at Olympics before, you actually did great; I don’t mean to discredit Chloe but, she’s been there before. You haven’t.”

“I guess” You mumble quietly. You don’t dare look at him. His gaze is unsettling, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“Bye, now.” Your attempt at indifference is laughable. Your voice is weak and lacks authority, your words sucked into an empty void as you wave your hand dismissively. You begin your walk up to the Olympic village, and his voice makes way to your eardrums once again.

“Meet me at this exact slope tomorrow, at midday. I want to tell you something.”

DAY 2

Your indexes press both your temples, your elbows lying on your bathroom counter. You look at the time, then back at the mirror, only to find it reflecting an image that doesn’t satisfy you; at all. Concealer, foundation, setting powder, color correcters- you had tried everything, if not more, to get rid of the awful panda eyes you woke up with, but nothing worked.

At this rate, you were surely going to be off the rocker by midday -which happened to be the time at which you were supposed to meet Iwaizumi. You take one last glance at your watch for good measure, only to find out you had a measly quarter of an hour before you’d have to leave. You have 10 left when you realize you’re a desperate case.

Who were you trying so hard for, anyway? You stop dead in your tracks. Who were you trying so hard for? Iwaizumi? Surely not. You feel your cheeks and the tip of your ears get hot at the thought. Inhale, hold, exhale. And again. You repeat this action a few times, in hopes to cool down, clear your head, but it’s not easy. The fact that you’re running late for the meet-up is not helping, either. You’re considering taking a rain-check on it, because you just realized you’re probably in love with someone else’s coach.

“Probably”, smoke forms itself in the cold air after the words escape your lips. “Probably.” you repeat, in an attempt to reassure yourself.

The next time you catch yourself thinking of your impromptu ‘crush’, you’re going up a mountain, the subject of your thoughts staring right back at you.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

The question almost makes you snicker. Iwaizumi had coined this expression after hearing it on an American sitcom you two had watched not too long ago, and your heart aches at the memory. You had no doubt that if he even had an inkling of what was going on inside your head, Hajime would’ve been out of your sight before you’d even be sure of your feelings. You suppose it won’t make much of a difference, considering you’re to leave in a day from now.

“I wouldn’t even sell them for a million, forget it.” You narrow your eyes at him.

At this, the bulky man raises a brow. “So you do have something to hide ?”

“Drop it.” You warn again.

You can see his mouth slightly parting, ready to shoot you another remark, attempting to find out what exactly is clouding your mind, when the lift doors open, and one of the cable car drivers usher you out of the cabin with a disapproving look.

You elbow Iwaizumi in the ribs, asking him what exactly went through his mind for your presence to get such a reaction out of the driver.

He doesn’t answer, and instead grabs your gloved hand to drag you through the woods until you reach a tiny ski shed. It’s slightly old, and the wood is close to giving out, the color slowly fading from a nice brown to a dull grey.

The inside is a nice contrast to the cold outside, and you don’t wait a second to come in and find a tiny loveseat while draping a duvet on yourself.

“By all means, make yourself at home.” Hajime says. At this, you stop moving, suddenly realising how impolite you were being. You raise your head, only to be met with a handsome grin. “I’m kidding” he finishes.

You reply with another smile, turning your head to the tiny scratched square window on the right. The sky is oddly bright, the clouds acting as a screen, reflecting the light. It’s truly a beautiful sight to behold, the snowflakes fluttering down to land softly on the rim of the window. Over time, the snow clumps together to form a thick blanket over the frozen grass. The snowfall is so harsh it only takes a few minutes for the layer to thicken until it’s already reaching 15 centimeters.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Iwaizumi whispers.

“It is.” You answer.

There’s no need for any of you to fill the empty void of silence after that. You fall into a comfortable atmosphere, and it feels like a dream neither of you want to wake up from. You can feel Iwaizumi’s soft stare, and few seconds later, you feel your loveseat dip, and a head fall on your shoulder. you tilt your head, questioning his behaviour, but the slow breathing indicates he’s already fallen asleep.

“Maybe I do like you.” You whisper to yourself, your eyes running over his features. It’s a risky move, but as far as you’re concerned, he’s supposedly asleep. Your heart swells as you notice the droplets of snow on his eyebrows and eyelashes. You don’t think you’ve ever seen anybody this beautiful before. His delicate lips are the last thing you see before you fall asleep yourself.

You wake up, and it’s noon. By then, you’re sure you’ve fallen in love with Iwaizumi Hajime.

“Hey sleepyhead. Look, I’ve talked to the cable cars staff and the last lift is in 15 minutes so, we should get going.” A tall man opens the door and speaks up. You don’t have to open your eyes to know it’s the man that’s been occupying your thoughts for the past day.

You relunctantly get up from your comfortable seat, and put on your jacket, and head out to the cable car station. On the way, you can’t help but ask a question that you’ve been keeping to yourself ever since earlier this afternoon.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” You start, fiddling with you fingers. It hadn’t been your goal to pressure him into telling you, but your curiousity took the best of you.

“Won’t tell you until you tell me what was up with you on the way up here.” He crosses his arms on his chest, determined to know what was up with you.

You raise a brow, clearly unimpressed with the chantage attempt. “I’m not telling you.” You stay firm and focused. You would rather die than have anybody know about your crush about your opponents’ coach, let alone the man himself.

“I guess I won’t tell you what I wanted to tell you, then.” He says nonchalantly, playing with your nerves. You don’t give in to his game, and shrug, “fine by me.”

It was not fine by you.

DAY 3

“Are you sure we’re even allowed to do this?” You shout over the wind, snowboard in hand.

“We used the lift last time and the guy said it was fine. I asked him about it again this morning and he said it was also fine. Don’t stress.” Iwaizumi answers, adjusting his ski glassware.

You huff. “I’m not stressing. I just think it’s very irresponsible, ‘s all.” Your maternal instincts take over as your hands settle on your hips, as if you were scolding a child. “And, your injury. I don’t want to be blacklisted by your twitter stans, they are terrifying.”

He doesn’t do anything but laugh, until he speaks up again. “Thought you were actually worried about me for a second.”

“You wish” A grin takes over your face, which is quickly mirrored by your interlocutor; “A man can dream” the black haired man sighs, looking up. It doesn’t take too long for him to wake up from his daydreaming, as he shuns you forward, and indicates for you to get your snowboarding gear on.

You consider questioning his words from a few seconds ago, but quickly decide against it, and wordlessly comply and count the seconds until your partner was done as well. The view in front of you is breathtaking. Far off, you can already see the steep sides of the mountains and their sloping sides and rounded ridges. They’re not snowboarding friendly, you know that, but their beauty is so captivating, as if they’re beckoning you forward, begging you to come their crooked tracks.

The slopes are untouched, yet to be used, and a fresh even layer of snow broods the land. In moments like these, you remember why you’ve been doing this for so long, why despite the losses, you’re still out there, competing.

“Come on! We don’t have time to loose!” Iwaizumi’s voice fills the short-lived silence, and you start worrying.

“You said the cable car driver was fine with it! Why would there be time to loose?” You reply, fastening your helmet.

“I said the cable car driver was fine with it, not the security!”

You let out a frustrated grunt, unheard by Hajime, who’s already on his way down the slope. In this moment, you can’t find yourself to be mad at him. Not when he looks so happy, so carefree. He’d always looked slightly off ever since you met him, as if he was he was missing something, a particular little thing. So little, but so important. It now hits you that the particular little thing has to be snowboarding.

Iwaizumi is halfway down already, and you get ready to try and overtake him. A few tiny jumps, and you smoothly start gliding on the snow. You’ve always loved it. The speed, the adrenaline, the risk. By now you’ve amassed an incredible amount of said speed; you’ve always been used to things going by pretty fast, but even by your own standards, your eyes start to widen: maybe you’re going a little too fast after all.

You know you have when you suddenly collapse in what you thought was a tree, and land face down in the snow. The wind is knocked out of your lungs when you realize you can still feel the tree. Have I hit it so hard I uprooted the tree?? You start panicking. You were already in trouble for going down this slope when you weren’t supposed to -which your coach would definitely kill you for- and now you were supposed to deal with an uprooted tree? How unlucky could you even get?

A slight groan from the supposed tree gives you an answer: incredibly unlucky.

“Could’ve been a little nicer,” he laughs a little, and you wonder how he still has the energy to do this despite being hit by bulldozer; you. “I’m not as young as you.”

“This,” You take some time to recover from your irregular breathing rhythm, “This is all you have to say?”

“You’d rather have me yell at you or something?” He quirks an eyebrow, “Besides, I’m not too mad about how this whole thing ended up.” At this, you feel his hands go up to your waist, and only then do you realise the compromising position you two were in.

“Shut up.” You seethe, getting off of him and attempting to hide the flustured expression your face is bearing.

The task proves itself to be harder than you initially thought, as both of your snowboards get slightly intwined.

“Let me- Hold on, just-” His slightly out-of-breath tone is making your heart beat at a pace that you are sure was probably much faster than the speed at which you hit Iwaizumi. Your faces are so close to each other, you might pass out. He looks slightly shaken as well, because he holds on to you. Puts his arm around you, draws you close, and waits. You both close your eyes, and for a moment, nothing happens.

The only things to be heard are the ruffling of the trees and the wind’s whistles. You wish you could stay like this forever. You can’t even bring yourself to think about the fact that this isn’t how it should be. This isn’t right. But if it isn’t, why does it feel so normal?

Your helmet makes a noise, and you realize it’s due to both of your helmets blocking each other from getting any closer. Talk about a cockblock.

“The thing I wanted to talk to you about. You know, yesterday, on the lift?” You start. Your hands feel moist from the nervosity wrecking your brain, but this time is right. You’re obviously not the only that has enjoyed this ‘encounter’, and you had drawn two conclusions out of this fact: number one: you probably do have a shot with him after all, and number two: you should probably shoot it soon. Soon as in, right now.

“Oh. Right. Yeah, I have to say something, too. But, you-, you can start.” The position that has him laying on his back adds a slight edge to his voice, and you’re not sure if you feel incredibly attracted by it, or if it’s a sign you shouldn’t confess after all.

“Well. There’s no easy way to say this, and feel free to stop me any time because honestly, if you get weirded out, I won’t even get mad, like, this so out of the blue and totally weird so really just-“

A mechanical click is heard from the woods, behind one of the trees, causing both of your heads to whip to the tree’s direction. A black shadow, and suddenly, nothing. That’s what you see. However, it’s enough for you both to understand: it was a paparazzi.

The cozy and comfortable atmosphere you two had created had now vanished an record time: you two were soon enough messily getting off each other, running back to both of your respective hotels. This was not good. It couldn’t be.

DAY 4

The one time you desperately wanted to be wrong, you weren’t. Your coach woke you up at a whooping five am, with 46 messages et 6 missed calls. Out of the impressive amount of messages you could make out a link to an article; Oh, this definitely was not good.

Your first reaction is a scoff. Star Crossed Lovers? How cheesy could these boulevard journals actually get? Your second is to pick up your coaches incoming call.

“Mind to explain? In what world does somebody get so reckless? With Iwaizumi, no less? Look, I know you’re upset about that bronze medal, but this was not the way to bring the attention back to you. God, how could you just-, what were you thinking?” The rest of his rant you don’t hear, drowning out his voice. All you can think of is Iwaizumi.

You just ruined his career. He had to retire from competitive snowboarding, and now, because of you, he’s going to have to let go of coaching, too. All because of you.

“I-I’m sorry, coach. Really. I know this is bad timing, but I really have to go.” You let out, bracing yourself for yet another storm of anger.

“You have to go? You cannot be-“ you hang up shortly after, having had enough of his grating mechanical voice.

You skip the bathroom; you don’t have time for casualties, you need to get to Iwaizumi as soon as possible. All throughout getting ready, you think about the fact that you would not have to get hastily ready if you had Iwaizumi’s phone number.

You take your jacket off the hook, grab your room’s key, and head out. You try your best to avoid the overwhelming stares. Some flash a sympathetic grin, and others opt for a glare of disdain, such as the woman sitting by the reception of the resort, seemingly waiting for someone else to arrive.

“You should be ashamed of yourself. You couldn’t stand for our Chloe to have the spotlight for a second, could you? You couldn’t steal her medal, so you stole her coach, didn’t you? You poor girl.” The woman comes up to you. The tone of her voice is unforgiving and unyielding. Soon enough, you notice the American flag embroidered on the sleeves of her jacket. She’s part of the American delegation, that’s why she’s blowing a fuse and having a go at you in public.

“Do we have a problem here, ladies?” An amiable voice from the back echoes in the reception.

All of a sudden, the woman, who, just a second ago was standing tall facing you, surrenders, muttering out a ‘no’ and soon leaves.

You turn around and, sure enough, it’s the man you’ve been trying to bump into. He takes your hand and, had you not been in your current situation, you would have felt the butterflies swarming in your belly.

“Come on up, we’ll go to my room, I’m sure they won’t give us any trouble there.” He proposes with a stunning smile, seemingly unaffected by the recent events. You stay in place, unable to move or speak.

“Assuming you’re here to talk to me, I mean. In light of recent events.”

You nod.

It doesn’t take too long until you both reach his suite, and only then does the long-awaited conversation start taking place. “I know about the article, by the way. You didn’t need to come up all the way here and deal with them. Appreciate it, nonetheless.” Iwaizumi reassures you.

“That’s.. great. Awesome. Could’ve avoided all that if I had your phone number, though.” You hold the sleeve of your left arm, unsure where that confidence came from.

“Is that your way of asking for my number?” He chuckles, “You could’ve just used social media.”

“Is that your way of rejecting me?” You comically imitate his last question, “And, not a fan. Besides, your accounts are all set in private.”

“So you did check.”

“You wouldn’t have accepted me either way.”

“What makes you say that?” Hajime tilts his head to the side. “After all the lifts I had to negotiate for you, and you think I wouldn’t have accepted you?”

You shrug. Now is not the time to give in to your delusional tendencies. “Isn’t this what friends do?” You ask, and when you turn your head around to face the brunette, you immediately regret it.

He looks dejected at the conclusion you’ve drawn from the past few days.

“What nice friends you have, then.” He doesn’t waste a second, and gets up from the bed. Clearly, you weren’t the only one that had suffered from an emotional turmoil this week. Your heart jumps at the realisation that Iwaizumi most probably likes you back, and also that the current situation you’ve found yourself in.

“No, I just- That’s not what I meant-“ you reach out to him, in vain.

“I get it. I’m not a child. We don’t feel same way about each other, and that’s fine. I can deal with it, I’ve been there before. Go back to your resort.”

“That’s not-“ you protest, but with a single hand movement, he silences you again.

“Go pack. You leave tomorrow.” The tone is unusual. It’s cold, hard, unwelcoming. It’s an order.

You’d be a fool to walk out of this door. Don’t walk out on him, the little voice in your head says.

“I like you back. I’ve always liked you.” You whisper. And with that, you walk out. Hajime doesn’t try to call you back.

DAY 5

You had never felt so homesick. Not even browsing the airport shops can help you feel better. Every tuft of black hair reminds you of him. You can’t shake him off, and feel like going crazy. The rest of your delegation won’t talk to you, presumably under the pressure of your coach, who was still incredibly mad at you.

The only one who hadn’t succumbed to peer pressure yet was a pretty and quiet girl by the name of Kiyoko. She mostly only listened and hummed as a sign that she was really listening, but that was more than enough for you.

“I just feel like shit for not having done more. I don’t know why I walked out on him. But like, at the same time, why wouldn’t he chase after me you know? If he really likes me. But maybe, maybe I was just being delusional the entire time and turns out he never liked me at all and I literally got it all wrong!” You gasp at that, “Oh my god. I would die if that was the case.”

You turn to kiyoko in panic, and hold her shoulders. “Do you think that was the case?”

In classic kiyoko fashion, she only blinks, and lets out a small ‘no’.

“I mean, even if that was the case, it’s not like I care. Like, Spencer Reid is hotter anyway.” You bite your fingernails, “or is he? Kiyoko, who’s hotter, Iwaizumi or Spencer Reid?”

“I don’t know who Spencer Rei-“

“I’d say Iwaizumi.”

It’s him. The only back tuft or hair you had been looking for in the swarm of people in the airport. You don’t have time to answer, because he takes your hand, and pulls you closer by the waist.

“I’m not sure..” you hum, “I think Spencer Reid might be a little more-“

Your words are drowned out by the sound of Iwaizumi’s lips smashing into yours. You relax into the kiss, and put your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as humanly possible. The scent of his cologne is addictive, and you would’ve stayed like this for centuries if it weren’t for the crowd.

“I’m sorry I didn’t chase after you like I was in a Hollywood movie. I thought you might want space.”

“You’re not forgiven.” You smile, and the grin he wears in response is making your heart jump out of your thorax.

Who knows if he never showed up what could’ve been?

A/n: I swear I really am on a semi-hiatus. This was just like 3/4 finished so I just wanted it to be done and posted

#[魅] — fic #[魅] — queued #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi angst #haikyuu x y/n #hq angst #haikyuu angst #iwaizumi fic #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi oneshot

104 notes · View notes