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luminnara · 3 years

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alpha!erasermic x pregnant!reader | ABO fluff

Request: Hiya! i’m wondering if you can do an alpha! erasermic x pregnant! omega! reader? maybe when both alphas leave their lunch at home and she goes to bring it to them. the reader and both alphas collectively have custody of hitoshi and eri, and the reader is heavily pregnant. preferably a female reader please, and none of class 1-a have met her. this is my first time requesting stuff so i hope i did okay! 😅

You did wonderfully! I love writing cute fluffy stuff like this, and it’s my first time writing any kind of erasermic thing even though I love them so much, so hopefully I did okay! Idk where exactly this sits timeline-wise, don’t worry about it, it’s omegaverse and I can do what I want lol. I took this prompt and sort of RAN with it, too

*also Mirio has his quirk back in this because it’s fun, and the reader has kind of a dodgy past because i wanted to add a little SPICE*

Warnings: a/b/o, pregnancy, the implications of Aizawa’s scarf and all of its uses

You sighed, resting a hand on your swollen belly. “Those two...”

You had only just gotten Eri out of bed, and, upon heading into the kitchen to fix her some breakfast, you saw two lovingly-prepared bento boxes sitting on the counter. Shota and Hizashi must have forgotten them in their hurry to get to UA earlier that morning, and while you knew they could very easily grab something to eat in the cafeteria, you hated the thought of these meals going to waste.

Besides, your inner omega was a bit miffed that they hadn’t taken your home cooked food to work with them. Was Lunch Rush’s food so much better than yours that your alphas would rather eat at school? You refused to believe that, even if his quirk was cooking. There was no way that he could make your alphas a meal that could compare to the kind you always cooked for them, and maybe it was the pregnancy hormones making you extra bristly about it, but you were determined to march right on over to UA and bring them their proper lunches.

Even if you were heavily, heavily pregnant. They’d probably have something to say about you leaving the house and waddling around Musutafu with only Eri as company, but you were tough enough to fend for yourself. And besides, it was only a quick train ride to the station outside the school, and if you did get yourself into any kind of trouble, the city was chock full of pro heroes and their sidekicks, many of whom you were on a first name basis with.

“Eri!” you called, grabbing a bag to carry the boxes in. “Are you dressed yet? We’re going to visit UA!”

You could heard a thump, followed by the sound of little feet thudding as she ran to meet you. When she appeared in the doorway, her eyes were wide with excitement, her long hair falling around her shoulders messily. “Yes!”

“Go brush your hair and then we’ll go,” you laughed, ushering her towards the bathroom.

“Why are we going?” the little girl called.

“Hizashi and Shota left their lunches,” you explained. “We’re bringing them so that the food doesn’t go to waste.”

“Can we visit Deku and Togata?”

You paused to think. You hadn’t actually met any of Shota and Hizashi’s students before, your alphas always preferring that you stay home and away from the sometimes dangerous school they taught at. Well, you knew Hitoshi, of course, and since he had yet to move into the dorms on campus, he still lived at home with the rest of the family. At least he had remembered to grab his lunch. Would your adopted son be embarrassed to see you appearing at his school? Hitoshi always carried himself in a very collected manner, and the thought of being able to show up and pinch his cheeks and coo at him made you laugh.

And you knew that everyone in Class 1-A would be over the moon to see Eri. The little girl that had been rescued from Overhaul was popular amongst the young heroes-in-training, from what you’d heard, and if you were going to go all the way to UA, you’d be damned if you didn’t let her see her friends there.

“Of course we can,” you said with a smile as she came running back in, her hair significantly less tangled. “Ready?”

“Ready!” she beamed up at you.

“Do me a favor and carry this?” you offered her the tote you’d tucked the bento boxes into and she took it from you eagerly, bouncing towards the door.

You grabbed your purse, made sure your keys were inside, and followed her out, taking her free hand. Together, the two of you made your way to the nearest train station, a few neighbors waving hello as you passed. There were no villains to be seen or head of, and the pros you saw out on patrol all looked happy and relaxed. They all knew who you were, some of the betas and omegas approaching to chat about your pregnancy and ask how things were going. The alphas hung back, calling greetings or offering waves, none of them wanting to get too close to a pregnant, mated omega and risk the wrath of your alphas if their scents happened to cling to you.

The journey went smoothly, Eri sticking close to your side the entire way. You were both excited to be going to visit UA--Eri, because she would get to see Deku and Mirio, and you because you hadn’t been to the school in years--and as you stepped off the train and the gates finally came into view, you let out a happy laugh.

“Ready?” you asked Eri, leading her towards the entrance.

“Mhm!” she nodded eagerly, pulling you forward. “Let’s go! Let’s go let’s go let’s go--”

“Hang on, hang on,” you waddled after her as quickly as you could, fishing around in your purse. When you finally found what you were looking for, you pulled out an ID card, holding it up towards the sensor atop the UA Barrier gate. “You have your card?”

“Yep!” Eri said, grabbing the card hanging from the lanyard around her neck and mimicking you.

“Special ID accepted,” a robotic voice chimed. “Welcome to UA High, (y/n) and Eri.”

The gate opened and you led Eri through it, the big school looming just past it. The special ID cards you both had were a result of Shota insisting that you be able to get to UA if you ever needed to. With the upgraded security measures, and so many of the students living in the dorms, it wasn’t easy getting onto the campus without either a student or guest card. You probably technically weren’t even supposed to have one, but no one was going to argue with Aizawa and Yamada when it came to ensuring their omega would be able to get to them in case of emergency.

This wasn’t exactly an emergency, but it was still an important mission, so you had absolutely no qualms about using your special ID privileges today. You just hoped nobody else would be mad about it.

“Hey, is that Eri I see?” a voice called.

You turned to see a blond haired, blue eyed boy jogging towards you and recognized him as Togata. He was dressed in a PE uniform, and as he stopped in front of you, you could see that he was panting.

Eri immediately set the bag down and rushed toward him, running into his open arms. “Lemillion!”

Mirio laughed as he scooped her into a hug. “What are you doing here? Aizawa didn’t mention anything about a visit!”

“Aizawa forgot his lunch today,” you said, nodding towards the bag Eri had dropped. “So we thought we’d bring it and visit.”

Mirio straightened up a bit when he realized you were there. You had to be absolutely covered in your alphas’ scents, and even if they never told any of the students about you, there was no way that Mirio hadn’t figured it out by now. Besides...your bond marks were very big and very visible, one on each side of your neck just below your scent glands. There was no way Mirio didn’t know what that all added up to.

You had never officially met him, but you’d heard plenty about all of UA’s Big Three, and after he and Deku saved Eri from the Shie Hassaikai, you’d heard even more about him. He was selfless, going so far as to sacrifice his own quirk to keep Eri safe and get her away from Overhaul, and for that, you’d always feel a little indebted to him. He’d luckily been able to get it back, but Aizawa had told you that there had been a long period in which nobody was sure it could even be returned to him.

“Oh, s-sorry!” he bowed to you. “I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced! I’m Togata Mirio, I was there at the Shie Hassaikai raid--”

“I’ve heard plenty about you,” you laughed as he straightened up again. “I’m (y/n). I’m the stay at home omega that keeps Shota and Hizashi from starving all the time.”

Mirio’s laugh was probably one of the most raucously happy sounds you had ever heard. “We’re all grateful for that! As for me, personally, I’m really glad Eri has such a great mom now, too. And you’ve got more on the way!”

“Sure do,” you groaned, a hand on your lower back as you tried to lean and stretch it out some. “Due date’s in just a couple weeks. Can’t wait to get ‘em outta here.”

“Well, at least you already know how to do the parenting part!” Mirio was still all smiles as Eri grabbed for his hand and he took it, picking up the tote bag as well. “Come on, it’s my free period so I’ll take you to 1-A’s classroom.”

“Thank you, Togata,” you said, hand on your belly as you followed him into the school.

“It’s no problem!” he beamed at you over his shoulder as he led the way. “It’s almost lunch, too. Perfect timing!”

“Is it really?” you glanced up at a clock on the wall, and sure enough, it was nearly noon. “Wow. Guess we took longer than I thought. But...ugh, I didn’t bring any food for myself or Eri...”

“That’s no problem! Lunch Rush always has tons of options in the Grand Mess Hall.” at your slight glare, Mirio added, “...But I’m sure even his best cooking is no substitute for a homemade meal!”

“That’s right,” you growled, waddling along down the hall.

When the three of you reached the 1-A door, Mirio used his permeation quirk to stick his head straight through it rather than knocking, and judging by the resounding scream of surprise that nearly shattered the windows, he had scared Hizashi half to death.

Mirio pulled back and opened the door, revealing a room full of groaning students, all clutching their ears. Hizashi was the only one who seemed unbothered by the sheer volume of the scream he had let out, clutching his chest instead.

“Why can’t you knock like a normal person, dumbass?” a blond boy snarled.

“Bakugou! You shouldn’t swear in front of esteemed upperclassmen!” a black-haired boy with glasses said.

“It’s not just me you’re swearing in front of!” Mirio said, still smiling, like always. With a nod of his head, he tugged Eri into the room.

Everyone lit up, and you even caught Bakugou’s harsh expression softening some at the sight of her.

“Eri!” a freckly, green haired boy exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.

“Deku!” the little girl yelled happily, letting go of Mirio’s hand to run towards him.

You watched as he knelt down to greet her, the rest of the class all getting up, or at the very least leaning over in their seats to say hello. All except Hitoshi, who looked up, made eye contact with you, started to roll his eyes, and then sighed.

Oh, you were so going to embarrass him today.

Hizashi was still trying to catch his breath, but now, with the students all distracted by Eri, he finally had a chance to notice you. You could see his nostrils flare as he recognized your scent, his head whipping around to spot you standing there in the door.

“BABE!” he rushed toward you, pulling you into a hug.

“Hi, Hizashi,” you laughed into his shoulder, clinging to his jacket as he rubbed his scent gland over your hair.

He immediately pulled back, holding you at arm’s length as he looked you over. “What’re you doing here? Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” you chuckled. When he glanced down at your swollen belly, you added, “we’re fine.”

He let out a relieved breath. “Okay. Okay, good. Had me worried there for a sec.”

“They came to bring you lunch!” Mirio said, holding up the bag he had carried in for you. “I ran into her and Eri outside while I was out for my daily jog.”

“Togata here was very helpful,” you said. “He even carried that bag for us.”

“Gotta help everyone who needs it, whenever I can!” the teenager gave you a thumbs up.

“Thanks, Mirio.” Hizashi said, putting an arm around your shoulders and pulling you up against his side. “Means a lot to me that my family stays safe.”

“Family?”

You turned to see all of Class 1-A staring at you.

Hizashi cleared his throat, the sound practically echoing. “Everybody, this is my mate.”

The room suddenly erupted.

“Who is she?”

“Is she a pro?”

“Can’t believe anybody would put up with him...”

“Bakugou, quiet! Don’t be rude!”

“But, wait...” Deku said, still kneeling with Eri. “I thought Eri’s been living with Mr. Aizawa..?”

The students all glanced to each other before their eyes swiveled to you and Hizashi.

“Oh, Hizashi,” you teased. “You never told them?”

“I, uh...” a slight pink tinged his cheeks as he blushed.

Luckily, before he had the chance to stumble over his words any longer, he was saved by the appearance of a very tired, very disgruntled, Eraserhead.

“What the hell is going on and why the hell are you screaming in my classroom?” he growled from the doorway.

Hizashi turned the two of you to face him, and you saw the anger immediately drain from Aizawa’s face.

“...What are you doing here?” he asked, his bloodshot eyes full of concern. “Everything okay?”

“Hi, Papa!” Eri chimed from her spot next to Deku.

“...Hello, Eri. Why are you also here?”

“You both forgot your lunches,” you said, practically scolding them. “I worked hard on those!”

“So you came all the way here just to bring us lunch? You realize we have an entire cafeteria here, right?”

“Don’t even think about it,” you growled.

“You shouldn’t be walking across Musutafu without at least Hitoshi with you. It’s too dangerous.”

At the mention of his name, everyone’s heads swiveled to look at Shinso. He sighed, slumping back in his chair and dragging a hand down his face.

“You know, if you wouldn’t forget the lunches that I so lovingly put all that hard work into, I wouldn’t even have to go all the way across Musutafu to bring them to you.” you said haughtily, nose up in the air as you stared your alpha down. “And besides...you know better than anyone that I can take care of myself, and Eri, no matter how pregnant I am.”

Aizawa sighed. He knew there was no arguing with you when you got in a mood like this, and besides...you were already there.

And you were right.

Before he could even come up with something to say, the bell rang, signaling that it was time for lunch, and soon, you were walking down the hall between your two alphas, Eri riding on Deku’s shoulders as Class 1-A flooded out along with you.

You ended up sitting in the mess hall with the students, sandwiched between Hizashi and Shota. Shota didn’t seem entirely pleased with it, mentioning several times that he’d much rather be in the teachers’ lounge where it was quieter, but Eri was far too happy to be with Class 1-A for him to actually tear her away from them. She was across from you, sitting next to Deku and a brown haired girl you learned was named Ochako. Mirio had left to go find his own friends, the other two members of The Big Three, and you could see him just a few tables over, laughing loudly with a blue haired girl with a boy with pointy ears looked like he was trying to will himself out of existence next to them.

“It’s so exciting that Mr. Aizawa has a whole family!” Ochako said.

“And with Present Mic, too,” Tsu, the frog girl, said from her spot next to her.

“How long have you been together?” the pink girl, Mina, asked.

“Don’t ask so many personal questions! We should respect their privacy.” Iida said, in true class rep fashion.

When Shota only offered a grunt in reply, too focused on his lunch to actually talk with his homeroom class, and with Hizashi already stuffing his face, you took it upon yourself to chat.

“Oh, I don’t mind the questions!” you said with a good natured laugh. “I met Hizashi and Shota when we all went to school together. Then we lost touch, because I...well, I sort of...chose a different life path than they did.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Hizashi slurped up his soba.

“Here.” you looked up to see Hitoshi had brought you and Eri each a tray of food, setting them down in front of the two of you.

“You’re so good to your mother,” you cooed, reaching up to grab his cheek.

He dodged you expertly, ducking out of the way and going to sit with Bakugou and his friends on Deku’s other side. You narrowed your eyes at him, making sure he knew that he couldn’t run forever, and as Denki watched the exchange, he spoke up.

“...Wait. You didn’t become a pro hero?” he asked.

“I took the hero course here at UA.” you explained, grabbing your chopsticks. “I ended up dropping out before graduation. This is actually my first time back since then.”

“So...” Deku seemed nervous. “Were you, uh...”

“A villain?” you asked.

When he nodded quickly, you laughed and offered a nod of your own.

“Yeah, I suppose I was. My quirk used to be wild, and hard to control...I got so frustrated when I wasn’t making any progress with it that I decided to just leave school. I was mad at everyone, and I fell in with people who felt the same way. One thing leads to another, and next thing you know, I’m running from the loudest, most obnoxious pro hero in the city.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Hizashi, who was doing his best not to choke on his lunch.

“And he never caught me,” you said adoringly, leaning against his shoulder.

“I never caught you on my own,” he corrected.

“Made my ears bleed a few times, I think.”

“Yes, and I don’t regret that.” he pressed a cute, fluttery little kiss against the tip of your nose. “You were absolutely going to kill me.”

“Not absolutely!” you protested.

“I had to rescue him.” Aizawa spoke up, his voice gruff and tired, like always. “Had to cancel your quirk and keep you tied down until the others could get to us.”

You smirked at your first memory of his scarf and what it could do, and as you did so, he realized that he had just admitted to tying you up with it in front of his idiot students.

“And that’s when I fell in looooove,” you grabbed his arm, batting your lashes at him obnoxiously.

“Not another word.” he growled.

The students were all staring at you with wide eyes. All except Hitoshi, who was rolling his.

“I guess you could say I was reformed,” you said, grabbing some noodles. “Then one thing led to another, and...here we are.” You patted your belly.

“That’s so romantic,” Mina sighed, leaning her chin on her hand.

“What’s your quirk?” Ochako asked.

“I could show you!” you said eagerly, moving to stand.

“Absolutely not.” Shota held onto your arm and forced you to sit down again. “You are due in two weeks. No nonsense until after the pups are born.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes now.

“Fine,” you mumbled with a sigh. “I never get to have fun anymore.”

“But pups are so exciting!” the invisible girl, Hagakure, said.

“Yeah!” Mina agreed.

Then, the rest of the girls bombarded you with questions.

“How many are you having?”

“What day are they coming?!”

“Can we meet them?”

“Mr. Aizawa, please can you bring them in to the dorms??”

“--But Mr. Aizawa, this is the safest place in Japan. There’s no way anything bad would happen to them--”

“--And besides, (y/n) has a super strong quirk, right? She said so!”

“Come on, just let us see the brats when they’re old enough to travel.”

The sound of Bakugou’s voice had everyone staring at the blond boy.

“...What?” he bristled. “It’s not like I care, I just want the girls to shut up.”

“Uh huh. Sure, Bakugou.” Kirishima snorted.

“...maybe.” Aizawa relented, eager to shut them all up.

That was enough for the girls, and they immediately began talking chattering about the cutest baby clothes, the best toys, and then the differences between their own upbringings. You enjoyed listening to them throughout the rest of lunch, and by the time the hour had ended, you were sad to be leaving.

“Hang on, hang on,” Hizashi said as you took Eri’s hand to leave. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home,” you furrowed your brow. “Why?”

“We told you,” Shota said, standing with his hands in his pockets. “We don’t want you wandering around the city.”

“And I told you, I’m fine--”

“Just stay here for the rest of the day.”

“...What?”

“We’ll all go home together later.” Hizashi smiled. “You and Eri can hang out in the lounge. I bet Midnight would love to pester you about the bump, too.”

You smiled, walking towards your alphas. “Alright. Alright, yeah. That sounds nice.”

As Class 1-A lingered at the end of the hall, watching for as long as they could get away with, Denki elbowed Hitoshi in the side.

“Dude, your mom is--”

“Don’t you dare say hot.” Shinso growled.

“Actually, I was gonna say badass, but that too--”

The purple haired boy glared at him. “Shut up, Denki.”

“What? It’s a compliment!”

#erasermic #alpha!erasermic #alpha aizawa #alpha hizashi #aizawa fluff #erasermic x reader #abo #omegaverse #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #shoto aizawa #aizawa x hizashi #hizashi yamada #present mic #present mic x reader #hizashi yamada x reader #aizawa x reader #shota aizawa x reader

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typical-simplelove · 3 years

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To Capture a Moment (M. Barzal)

Author's Note: This was a prompt from the ever amazing @thatflyersfan, so thank you for this! The prompt was "taking polaroid photos", and I'm a sucker for childhood friends to lovers, so this is the product! I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know what you thought either in an ask or in the tags. Enjoy!

Author's Note 2: If you reblog this, I'll send you an ask thank you and mention you in an appreciation post (if I do this!)

Warnings: Mentions of sex, one or two slightly NSFW scenes (but VERY mild), a mention of a breeding kink (literally mentioned in one sentence), marriage, pregnancy, Santa, but the rest is just fluff!

Word Count: 9.3k

Enjoy reading!

If anyone were to walk down the hall of your and Mathew’s hallway of your new home, they would see it lined with polaroid pictures. These polaroid pictures show the relationship between you and Mathew from the young age of five to now sharing your new home, married, and with two children. A hallway that was the epitome of a picture is worth a thousand words.

Age 5

“Mathew, please, just stand next to your sister, please,” Mathew’s mother requests. Her tone was close to begging. Your parents had to deal with a family emergency, so they sent you to the Barzal’s to be babysat. Mathew’s mother decided to take Liana, Mathew, and you to Lafarge Park.

Currently, you are sitting on a bench giggling as you watch Mathew sigh as he gets up from where he was sitting next to you. He groaned as he got up and stood next to his sister. He wraps his arm around her but doesn’t smile. At the touch, Liana screams and begins to cry. It was close to her nap time, and the smallest things were making her fussy. Mathew’s mother sighs and goes to pick up her daughter to try to comfort her. Mathew grins widely and sits back down next to you.

“I don’t like taking photos,” Mathew says bluntly. You look at him but are squinting as the sun is in your eyes.

“You like taking photos in your hockey gear,” you point out.

“Yeah, but I don’t like taking photos,” Mathew emphasizes the word photos as if that were enough explanation. It wasn’t. “You know what I mean?”

“No.”

Mathew gives you a curious look, and you want to point out his hair is getting long, but his mother calls Mathew back over to take the photo.

“But I don’t want to,” Mathew whines.

“Mathew,” she says in a mother’s knowing tone, and Mathew gets up exasperatedly. He stands next to his sister. He opts not to put his arm around her this time and looks at you before the picture is taken. You smile widely at him and wave. Mathew wears a giant grin on his face in response. His mother notices Mathew’s wide smile; she smiles when she realizes you are the reason for Mathew’s smile. She takes the photo quickly knowing that Mathew’s smile is short-lived.

“Yn, come take a photo with Mathew,” she calls to you. You skip over to Mathew. Surprisingly, Mathew doesn’t complain about taking another photo. Then again, though, Mathew never complained about anything when it came to you.

“Mom, can we do the fancy camera? The one that prints out right away?” Mathew asks.

“Sure, sweetheart,” Mathew’s mother says and pulls the polaroid camera out of her purse. Mathew insisted she bring it today, and she guesses this was why. “Smile,” she directs and snaps the photo. Once the photo is printed, she places it in her wallet.

“I’m going to hang it on my wall,” Mathew tells you after the photo is taken and that he did. After he got home later that day from dropping you off at home, Mathew begged his mother for the photo. He tapped it on his wall next to his hockey posters because to him, you were just as important. As Mathew moved around for hockey, that photo always followed him around with a few others. It sat in his wallet, and when he felt homesick, he’d look at it with a wide smile. Now, it sits amongst the many polaroid pictures on your wall.

Age 6

Whenever you and Mathew were together, Mathew’s mother always brought the polaroid camera with her. Mathew always loved taking those kinds of photos with you. In the past year, you and Mathew have taken countless polaroid pictures that lined both your walls and his.

Today, you were sitting in a local hockey arena watching Mathew play. Well, you were watching the empty ice getting ready for warmups. You were wearing one of Mathew’s sweatshirts as you shivered in the cold of the arena. You were clutching the mug of hot chocolate Mathew’s mother gave you in hopes of warming up. When Mathew got on the ice for warmups, you smiled widely. Even at such a young age, seeing Mathew would bring a smile to your face and make you all warm and fuzzy.

You walked towards the glass to get a better look at your best friend. When he skated by you, you tapped softly on the glass to alert him you were there. When Mathew turns to see you, he gives you a giant smile from beneath his helmet. He takes a few moments to stop and looks at you for a moment. Mathew’s mother takes the polaroid camera out of her bag and quickly snaps a photo of the two of you in this exact position.

That photo remains on the Barzal mantle till this day.

Age 7

The annual Christmas Fair was back in Vancouver again, and Mathew was super excited to see Santa this year. He figured that his dream of playing in the NHL would come true as long as he asked Santa for it for every year of his life until it happened.

You were both standing in line waiting to go inside the Fair. Despite being bundled up in your warmest sweater, jacket, gloves, and hat, you were still cold. One would think that after spending copious amounts of time in a hockey arena watching Mathew play, you would be used to the cold, but you weren’t.

“Are you cold, Yn?” Mathew asks concerned. He can see you shivering but trying to hide it.

“Just a little,” you lie.

“Oh, here,” Mathew says and walks over to you. He wraps his arms around you in a giant hug to keep you warm. You feel your cheeks warm at the touch, but you, at the age of seven, think it’s just you already warming up. You rest your head on Mathew and wrap your arms around him. “No, keep them in your pockets, so you can keep warm.”

“What about your hands?” you worry.

“Don’t worry, I play hockey; I’m used to the cold,” he reassures you and flashes you his signature grin. Mathew’s mother wasn’t able to capture a polaroid photo of this event, but your mother was able to pull out her phone to capture the moment. Even at the age of 7, Mathew would do absolutely anything for you.

Eventually, yours and Mathew’s families end up inside the fair and in line to see Santa. Now, a hot chocolate in your belly and a warm meal, you were slowly warming up and didn’t need Mathew to hold you anymore. He was bouncing with excitement as you both got closer and closer to the front of the line.

When it was Mathew’s turn to see Santa, he walked up, and you waited in line for your turn. A sudden gust of wind made a giant shiver rack through your body, and Mathew noticed from where he was sitting on Santa’s lap.

“Is everything alright, son?” he asks.

Mathew looks up at him with worry. “My best friend is cold, and I don’t like it when Yn’s cold. I’d rather be cold instead of Yn.”

“Well, maybe we should finish here quickly, so you can go and make Yn warm. What do you say?”

Mathew nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, I like that.”

“So, what do you want, son?”

Mathew looks into Santa’s blue eyes and is about to ask for an NHL career. He then looks at you and sees you shivering. Mathew’s heart stops and realizes that it doesn’t matter if he got the NHL career if you were cold. You couldn’t be cold because if you were cold then you’d get sick. If you were sick, then who would be Mathew’s best friend? “I want Yn not to be sick.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah,” Mathew nods. “I can’t have my best friend sick because then who would be my best friend.”

“Well, then, I’ll be sure to grant your wish, son,” Santa says. In all his years of doing this, he’s never heard this one before. “Keep Yn close, okay? Yn seems like a special one.”

Mathew always kept those words close to his heart whether or not he remembered who told them to him.

Age 10

For the past ten years, you and Mathew have taken a photo on yours and his birthdays. It was always you on the right and him on the left. Whoever’s birthday it was would be holding the gift the other got them. It was tradition.

It was your tenth birthday, and the day was coming to a close. All your friends had left, and it was just your family and Mathew’s family who were still there. You were on your third piece of cake, and Mathew was trying to convince you to give him a bite, too. He looked nervous.

“Are you okay, Mathew?” you ask after finishing your final piece and giving Mathew a piece.

“I have a gift for you,” he mumbles.

“Oh!” you thought you opened all your gifts.

“Can I give it to you?”

“Yeah, sure,” you answer. Mathew gets up to grab the gift, and you throw out the plate in the trash.

“This is for you,” he says and passes the bag to you. You gently take the wrapping paper out of the bag; you set it to the side and pull out the box. You gasp when you see it. You smile and jump up to give Mathew a hug. You wrap your arms around him.

“Thank you for the polaroid camera, Mathew,” you whisper as he wraps his arms around you.

“Of course, Yn. It’s time you had your own, so we could take all the photos we want.”

“Come on, let’s go and get my mom to take a photo of us.”

You and Mathew go and find his mother. When you find her, you take the camera out of the box and hand it to her. You and Mathew position yourself against the wall, and he wraps an arm around you. You hold the box in your hand and smile. Mathew, though, isn’t looking at the camera; he’s looking at you with the widest grin on his face. All that mattered in his life was making you smile. If he made you smile, then Mathew always wore the happiest grin on his face.

Age 13 - Stargazing

Your parents had to go out of town to take care of your grandparents, so you were staying with the Barzals for the weekend. You were both currently laying on in his backyard on a blanket staring at the stars. It was your favorite pastime — laying together looking up at the stars.

You were both lying next to each other, shoulder to shoulder. You turned your head and looked at Mathew, but you looked to find him already looking at you. “It’s pretty,” he says.

“It is,” you agree and turn back to the sky. Mathew, though, remained looking at you.

“Do you have your polaroid camera?”

“Yeah, right next to me. Why?”

“Let’s take a photo,” Mathew answers. He sits up and leans over around you to grab the camera. In the process, Mathew’s arm brushes your stomach briefly, and his face grows warm at the touch. Somewhere, between the ages of 12 and 13, Mathew has developed a crush on you. He didn’t tell anyone because why would he? At this age, Mathew would get teased for having a crush on you, so he didn’t tell anyone. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if you liked him, too.

Mathew lies back down next to you and rests his head close to yours. He lifts his arm up and positions it so that the both of you are in frame. You both smile, and Mathew presses down the button.

The photo comes out, and Mathew’s heart warms at the picture reflected.

“Can I have my camera? I want a picture of the stars, too,” you ask. He hands you the camera, and his hand brushes yours briefly. You thought nothing of it, but Mathew’s heart was racing. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Mathew whispers, and you give him a curious look. “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird; you’re acting weird.”

You laugh. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

Mathew watched you take a photo of the stars in the sky, and he came to one realization: he never wanted to live in a world where you weren’t there.

Age 16

It was Mathew’s 16th birthday, and you were sitting on a garden chair watching him have the time of his life with his friends. As you both started high school, you both found yourself in different friend groups. That wasn’t to say, however, that your friendship wavered. It just meant that you both weren’t next to each other all the time. You were okay with that new realization. You were okay with it because that meant that you could work through your new found feelings for Mathew. You didn’t know when it happened. One day, you were eating lunch with Mathew, your friend, with normal hair and normal eyes and a normal laugh. You were eating lunch with Mathew, your friend, who was normal looking. The next day, though, you were eating lunch with Mathew who had the most beautiful smile, the most beautiful eyes, the softest hair, and was the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. He was no longer the boy you grew up with. He was Mathew, and you finally understood what all the girls were talking about. It was difficult for you to breathe around him because you wanted him to hold your hand and love you. It went from Mathew being your best friend to you loving Mathew as more than a friend, and it scared you.

You were sitting there smiling when Mathew caught your gaze. He looked you in the eyes and waved. You waved back and warmth filled you. He excused himself from his friends and walked over to where you were sitting.

“You brought the polaroid camera,” he says as he brings a chair next to yours and sits.

“Well, we’ve taken the same photo for the past sixteen years. We might as well continue tradition, right?” you tease.

“Yeah, tradition,” he whispers giving you a look that makes you melt. He leans his head close to yours with a soft smile. “Can I tell you something?”

You nod trying to suppress a shiver.

“Somewhere in the past —”

“Yn, can I borrow your polaroid camera, please?” Liana interrupts as if knowing what Mathew was going to say. You tell her yes, and you see Mathew, out of the corner of your eye, blush and shake his head while also glaring at his sister.

“Um, you were saying?” you ask hoping to rebuild the bubble you both just had.

Mathew looks at you trying to figure out if he wants to continue. “Um, somewhere in the past five or six years or so, I screwed up.”

“Screwed up, how?”

“I fell for you,” Mathew whispers, a blush overcoming his face.

“But, you’re sitting right now,” you say oblivious.

Mathew laughs his laugh, and you melt into a puddle. “I fell in love with you, Yn.”

“Oh. Oh!”

Mathew laughs again with a bashful smile settling on his features. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.”

“Are you still sorry if I were to tell you I fell in love with you, too?”

“I wouldn’t be sorry, then,” Mathew says and leans his head close to yours. He takes one hand and cups your cheek. He rubs soft patterns on your cheek as he begins to tilt his head. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you beg. Mathew places his lips on yours softly as your hands go to his neck and begin to softly playing the hair at its base. It was a kiss full of fireworks. All the noises around you mellowed out. All the emotions you feel for your best friend come out in one kiss as it deepens. You both pull away when a flash from a camera startles you both.

“Sorry, I just had to,” Liana apologizes, handing you back your camera with the photo printing.

“You didn’t have to,” Mathew grumbles angrily.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry,” you tell her, taking back the camera. You look at the photo and smile. Mathew was gently holding your face as he kissed you softly. You both had wide smiles on your faces as you kissed each other. “See, we have a photo of our first kiss.”

Mathew kisses your forehead softly. “Here’s to many more.”

Age 18

“Yn, come outside, please?” Mathew begs with a pout on his face. “I want to take a photo with you.”

“But we’ve been taking photos all day,” you groan. It was reaching 9pm at night, and the joint graduation party for you and Mathew was over. You were both lounging on your bed reminiscing about the future. Mathew was going to have this amazing NHL career, and you were going to college.

“I just want this one,” Mathew says as he gets off the bed. He looks at the many polaroid photos sitting on your wall of both your family, friends, and him. He was in most of them. He picks up your polaroid camera and grins at you. “Please? My parents bought sparklers, and we haven’t used them yet.”

You get up because Mathew could get you to do anything as long as he gave you that grin. “Okay.”

Mathew takes your hand and leads you both downstairs. “Liana, can you take a photo of us?”

“More photos?” she asks. Liana was just as fed up with taking pictures, too. “Yn, how do you put up with him?”

You shrug with a smile. “It’s easy when I love him.”

“I love him, too, but I can’t put up with him,” Liana mumbles following you both out the door. Mathew inquires about the sparklers and is directed to his mother’s car. You and Liana stand out in your backyard. “What kind of photo does he want?”

“I’m not sure, but I know he wants a polaroid photo.”

“He’s obsessed with those,” Liana comments as Mathew walks up to you two. He hands the polaroid camera to Liana and ushers you over to where he wants to stand. He takes two sparklers out of the box and hands one to you.

“I want to kiss you as we hold the sparklers,” Mathew mumbles against your skin. His words sent shivers down your spine.

“Okay,” you whisper as Mathew lights yours and his sparklers. He looks at you with a wide smile and wraps the arm that’s not holding the sparkler around your waist. You wrap your arm that’s not holding the sparkler across his shoulder and lean in for a kiss. “Liana, take the photo when we kiss, please.”

Liana makes a comment about how disgusting the two of you are before saying an “okay.”

Mathew leans in with a smile and kisses you. You kiss him back with a smile just as wide closing the space between you two. You see the flash out of the corner of your eye and pull away slowly to set the sparkler out. When they’re out, Mathew pulls you in for another kiss full of love and passion. He never gets enough of kissing you; if it were up to him, he’d kiss you for every moment of every day.

“The photo’s ready,” Liana interrupts, not wanting to watch her brother kiss anyone even if it were you. You both separate breathlessly and observe the photo. He wraps his arms around you and settles your back against his front. He rests his head against yours and holds you tightly against his chest.

“We look cute, babe,” Mathew whispers into your ear. You look into his eyes and break out into a smile.

“We do look cute,” you agree. You were about to say something else, but the flash of the polaroid camera interrupts your words.

“Sorry,” Liana apologies. “You guys just looked really cute.”

Mathew kisses your cheek, and his heart bursts with love. He loved you so much that there were no words. From where they were sitting on the back porch, your parents and Mathew’s parents were looking on with love. You and Mathew were perfect for each other, and they knew that your relationship would stand the test of time.

Age 21

You were in New York for the first time during the hockey season. In past times you’ve been in New York, it was either before the season or after the season. This was the first time that your school schedule lined up perfectly with a chance to go see Mathew play on Long Island. You met the WAGs for the first time tonight, and you instantly loved them and them the same. You were currently standing next to Sydney, who took you under her wing, at the glass as warmups just began. You had your new polaroid camera and ready to snap one of Mathew.

“Do you and Mathew have a strong connection to a polaroid camera?” Sydney asks.

You nod with a smile. “Yeah. For as long as I can remember, we’ve always taken photos with a polaroid camera. We have millions of photos together.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen them. Mathew displays them proudly across his apartment. He loves them, but he loves you more,” Sydney teases.

You don’t reply except for smiling bashfully and shaking your head playfully. You were about to say something when Mathew interrupted you by bumping into the boards in front of you. He looks at you, and his heart grows a million sizes seeing you wearing his jersey. You smile when you see him and wave. He begins to show off in front of you with his stick handling. You shake your head playfully at his actions, but you use the opportunity to snap a photo of Mathew. It’s of him concentrating on the puck. You tuck it into your purse to observe later on.

“Did you want me to take one of the two of you?” Grace asks, who was on the other side of you and has also taken you under her wing.

“Would you? That’d be great.”

“Of course,” she says and takes the camera from you.

“Can Grace take a photo of us?” you ask Mathew. You were suddenly nervous that he was going to be embarrassed of your tradition.

“That would be amazing,” he tells you genuinely. He leans against the glass on his side, and you do the same on your side, smiling at Grace. Once the photo is taken, you, once again, put it in your purse to look at later. Mathew waves before rejoining the rest of his team.

“You guys are cute,” Sydney comments with a smile.

“Oh, to be young and in love,” Grace comments and both girls laugh. You put the camera in your purse, and you smile as the heat rushes to your face. Indeed, to be young and in love.

Later that night, you and Mathew were sitting on his couch when you pulled out the polaroids from the day. Mathew looks at the polaroid that you took of him without him knowing and blushes. You notice it and kiss his cheek.

“You look good, babe,” you tease.

“Yeah, but this one is better,” he says pointing to the photo Grace took of you. His hold on you tightens as he rests his head on the crook between your shoulder and neck. “Wanna know why?”

“Why?” you giggle as Mathew’s breath tickles you.

“Because you’re in it,” Mathew flirts.

“Shut up,” you say bashfully as the warmth reaches your face.

“It’s true,” he whispers. “I’m not ready for you to go back to school. I want you here forever.”

“Don’t worry,” you reassure. “After I graduate, I’m going to get a job here in New York, and we’ll be here forever together. Don’t worry; you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Mathew says and places a kiss on your cheek.

Age 22

Mathew is sitting next to your father with a bouquet of flowers and your polaroid camera on his lap. Mathew’s leg is bouncing as he anxiously waits for your name to be called. It was finally your graduation day. You’ve been working hard for the past four years, and it was finally paying off. Mathew was so proud of you, and he was so happy that he got to be here at his super smart, super beautiful girlfriend’s graduation day.

A name a few before yours was called, and Mathew and your family perked their attention to be ready when you were called. In moments, your name was called, and you were walking across the stage. Mathew and your family all stood up to cheer for you. Mathew put the flowers down on his chair and put the camera up to take a photo. He snapped one exactly as you were handed your diploma. He put the photo in his wallet with the same one from when you were five.

As you were walking across the stage, you caught Mathew’s eyes, and he winked at you. You smiled bashfully, and as you sat, you felt the warmth on your face. The rest of the celebration went by quickly as you all threw your caps in the air and cheered. You were done! You finished! You were officially a college graduate! You said tearful goodbyes and congratulations to your friends before making your way to your family and Mathew.

Mathew stood to the side as your grandparents, parents, and siblings embraced you and congratulated you. He could see the impatience in your eyes as you greeted each and everyone of them, wanting to greet Mathew. As you hugged your grandparents after your parents, your mother walked over to Mathew.

“Hand me the polaroid camera. I’ll take a few as she comes over to you,” your mother says, and Mathew hands her the camera.

Finally, finally, it was Mathew’s turn to see you. “Congratulations,” he says to you softly.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“These are for you,” Mathew says and hands you the flowers. You both vaguely notice the flash of the camera as your mother took a photo of Mathew handing you the flowers. You take the flowers and smile behind them embarrassed. One of your siblings takes the flowers from you, so you can properly embrace Mathew. He wraps you in a giant hug and kisses your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“I can’t believe that my girlfriend is a college graduate,” Mathew comments as you pull away to look at him. He leans his head down and kisses you softly. You reach your hands to wrap around his shoulders and pull him closer to you. You both deepen the kiss but not too much as your father was right there watching you two. As you and Mathew kiss, you both, once again, vaguely recall a flash of the polaroid camera. It didn’t matter. When you both were together, especially kissing, the entire world faded away. Finally, you both pull away with breathless smiles.

A few weeks later, you were both back home in Coquitlam, and it was nearing the end of your graduation party. Mathew was sitting on the back deck with his parents, Liana and your dad as the night winded down. In your hand, you held the two photos your mother took and wanted to show Mathew.

“Mind if I steal him for a moment?” you ask resting your hand on Mathew’s shoulder.

“Please, he keeps talking about you, and it’s making me sick,” Liana says. Everyone laughs in response, and you take Mathew’s hand and lead him away from the group.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“I want to show you the photos from graduation,” you tell him. “The polaroids.”

You and Mathew find a spot in the backyard and sit. Mathew sits first and opens his legs for you to sit in between. You rest with your back against his chest, and his arms reach around your waist to hold you tightly. He kisses the side of your cheek as you show him the photos.

“Here’s the first one,” you say and show him one. It’s the photo of Mathew handing you the bouquet of flowers. Smiles are adorned on both your faces, and Mathew’s eyes are laced with nothing but love for you. “We look good.”

“You always say that,” Mathew teases.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not true,” you reply looking at your boyfriend of many, many years.

He kisses your temple. “What’s the next one?”

You flip to the next photo and show it to him.

“Now this one, this one, we look good,” Mathew says, giving you a raised eyebrow. It was a photo of Mathew giving you your congratulatory kiss.

“We do look good,” you comment with a smile.

Mathew was contemplating on whether or not to tell you about the photo he took of you while you walked across the stage. He opted against it wanting to keep the photo to himself for the moment. “This is our thing, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean ‘our thing’?” you ponder.

“You know, all couples have their thing. This is our thing, taking polaroid photos,” Mathew explains.

“I guess it is,” you hum. “It’s not a bad ‘thing’ to have.”

“It really isn’t,” Mathew says and kisses you. He will be forever indebted to his mother for starting this tradition that the two of you have.

Age 24

On your first night after moving to New York, Anthony and Mathew insisted on taking you out to celebrate. You were tired, though, from unpacking and settling in all day, so you told them you didn’t want to do anything crazy. Why was Anthony tagging along? You didn’t know. He was there to help unpack, and he said you three should celebrate, so here you were.

You let Anthony and Mathew pick what they wanted to do as you showered and unpacked your stuff in the washroom. You walked out freshly showered to Mathew and Anthony having wide smiles on their faces.

“What if we took you to Times Square?” Mathew says. He walks over to you and wraps you in a giant hug. You hum in response, but Mathew isn’t sure if it's from the hug or agreeing with going to Times Square. You wrap your arms around him and breathe in his scent. You missed his scent before you moved in with him. You spent a few years back home with a job before you moved to New York. You wanted to be on your own for a bit before making the trek across the continent.

Anthony clears his throat to signal that you and Mathew weren’t the only two in the room. You both pull away, and Mathew’s face is crimson red as he meets his friend’s eyes. “So, Times Square, yes or no?”

“Sure, but not too late because I’m tired,” you reply. Getting to Manhattan from Mathew’s, no your apartment, Long Island apartment was long. You told them the train would be easier, but Mathew and Anthony would rather drive, so driving it was. The entire night was a blur. You were tired and exhausted, and the ecstasy you felt from being in the City with your boyfriend, finally, was too much to handle. You were over the moon overjoyed.

The three of you stopped for a moment in the main square of Times Square, and you looked around in awe. Mathew was watching you with nothing but love in his eyes as you took in the sight. He spent every night over the past few years wishing and dreaming of the nights and days he’d get to have you by his side. Anthony, on the other hand, was rolling his eyes at his best friend’s love sick nature.

“Did you bring your polaroid camera?” Mathew whispers into your ear.

“Yes, why?” you ask with a smile on your face that makes Mathew melt into a puddle.

“Let’s get Beau to take a photo for us.”

You watch as Mathew asks Anthony to take a photo of the two of you; you giggle quietly as Anthony rolls his eyes but says yes. Mathew walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. Anthony holds the camera up as you and Mathew smile for him. However, instead of looking at the camera, Mathew is looking down at you as you smile at the camera. He’s looking at you, the love of his life and the light of his life. Anthony snaps the photo but rolls his eyes at the lovesickness of his best friend. The photo prints, and you throw it into your purse to look at later. You continue to explore the awakeness of the Big Apple with your hand in Mathew’s. You fell in love with the city, and you were excited to be living in the lively state of New York.

Later that night, you’re getting ready for bed and standing at your dresser in the bedroom. You set your purse on it and take the polaroid camera out. Next, you take the photo out of your wallet and look at it. You smile at you and Mathew in the photo. As you’re looking, Mathew walks out of the washroom with his sweats hanging low on his hips without a shirt on and wraps his arms around you. He holds you close against his bare chest and rests his head on your shoulder breathing in your comforting and familiar scent.

“What’re you looking at?” he asks in a low husky voice that sends chills down your spine.

“The photo from tonight,” you say in a low voice as Mathew pulls you closer into his body. “You didn’t even look at the camera.”

“It’s a waste of time to stare at a camera when the best part of my life is right there,” Mathew flirts. He kisses your neck in between words pulling a soft whimper from you.

“You’re such a flirt,” you teasingly scoff. You rest the photo on the dresser and turn around, so you’re facing Mathew. You rest your arms on his shoulders and feel the expanse of the muscles there. You watch as Mathew’s eyes begin to darken and fill with need and desire.

“How else am I supposed to keep my girl satisfied?” he smirks.

“I can think of a few ways,” you tell him confidently before closing the space and placing a kiss on his lips. Mathew instantly picks you up, and you yelp slightly at the sudden touch. He carries you to the bed and places you down slowly. In between kisses, you tell him, “I love you.”

“I love you, too. More than anyone or anything in the world,” he replies. One day, he knew that he’d be getting Anthony to take a photo of the two of you with an engagement ring on your left hand.

Age 25

Engagement Party

Four months after you moved to New York, Mathew proposed to you. He got down on one knee during a date-night at home. You knew something was up when Mathew was nervous the entire night. You, obviously, said yes to forever with your best friend and the love of your life.

Now eight months later, Mathew’s family was throwing you both a small engagement party to celebrate the engagement about a month before your wedding. It was just both of your immediate families and close friends. You didn’t invite many people knowing the majority of the important people in your life would be flying to Vancouver for the wedding in about a month.

You were wearing a white sundress that made you feel like the bride that all movies and books describe. You were surrounded by your family, but most importantly, you were celebrating getting married to your best friend and love of your life.

It was getting late, and you were sitting on Mathew’s lap. You were resting your head on his shoulder with your arms wrapped around his neck and his arms wrapped around yours. The steady breathing from him and his warmth led to you falling asleep. He was tracing small patterns on your hip as he continued to talk to the small group of people around you. At some point, you heard Mathew tell someone to grab his sweater, and he threw it over your shoulders. You were so tired and didn’t tell him you were cold, but he just knew.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you just did. No one noticed you were asleep until someone asked you a question, and you didn’t respond. Mathew looked down at you and noticed that you were sleeping. You looked adorable and comfortable in his arms. Mathew’s heartbeat quickened as he realized that he got to spend the rest of his life with the person in his arms. He got to spend the rest of his life with the person in his arms who looked so at rest, so beautiful, and so happy.

Liana quietly gets up to grab your polaroid camera from your purse. She knew that you’d want to have this documented.

“Get used to this, Mathew,” your dad began. “Yn will be falling asleep in your arms like this forever.”

Mathew smiled at your father’s words and rested his head against yours. He’d be more than okay with that. Liana didn’t tell Mathew he was going to take a photo. She knew that you’d far rather that the photo was candid and not scripted. Liana approached the group quietly and snapped a photo. Mathew was too absorbed in holding you that he didn’t notice. Liana left the photo on your nightstand where you found it the next morning. You smiled at the photo when you saw it knowing you weren’t making a mistake with who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

Wedding Day

You woke up the night after your wedding day curled into Mathew’s bare chest. You opened your eyes and a wide smile erupted across your face. You ran your fingers along Mathew’s stomach, and your breath hitched in your throat when you caught sight of your wedding band on your left finger.

“Morning, baby,” Mathew says in his morning voice that still makes your heart flutter. He runs his left hand across your back, and his wedding band sends chills down your spine.

“Did you know that we got married last night?” you ask sweetly.

He gives you a low chuckle. “Yes, I do know that.”

You giggle. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both lay in bed for a while in silence before Mathew says anything again. “Liana gave me the photos she took on the polaroid last night.”

“Oh,” you say as you sit up. You and Mathew put Liana in charge of taking a few polaroid photos of the two of you knowing she’d be the best one to do so. Mathew also roped in Anthony, but you both had more faith in Liana.

You sit up against the headboard as Mathew gets up and grabs the envelope that Liana gave him before you both left the previous night. Mathew pulls you against him as he rests against the headboard, too, and hands you the photos. You look in the envelope and notice six photos.

You pull out one and smile at it. It was your first dance with Mathew. Liana took the photo perfectly just as the song was coming to a close and Mathew was twirling you with your dress splaying out around you. Mathew had nothing but love in his for his new wife and a giant smile on his;he had tunnel vision when he looked at you. The entire world faded away except for you. You remember Mathew placing a kiss on you just as you reentered his embrace. Your heart was beating through your chest as Mathew and you continued to dance to the remainder of the song.

“We look good,” you tell him, showing him the photo. Mathew grabs the photo from your hand and is careful to only hold the corners. You’ve been on his case many, many times about not smudging the photo.

“You look good, babe,” Mathew corrects. “You always will look better than me.”

You smile bashfully at your husband’s words and smile into his chest. He tightens his grip around you before grabbing the envelope, placing the photo in it, and grabbing another. He smiles at the photo of him and his mother dancing together. “Look, it’s your mother-in-law,” he comments.

You look at the photo and smile. “Indeed it is.”

“Is it weird that she’s officially your mother-in-law?”

“Not really. I mean, it’s different, but not weird. Your mom has always been in my life, so it’s not like I don’t know her. Is it weird that my parents are your in-laws?”

“Yes, absolutely. The amount of stares that your father has given me? He never scared me when we were growing up, but in the past few years, he has.”

You laugh and place a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry. He’s just being protective of his child.”

“It better be just that,” Mathew mumbles. You grab another photo from the envelope and smile at the photo of you and your dad dancing together. Both yours and your father’s eyes had tears in their eyes knowing that this was it. This was what you both knew was coming but weren’t ready for. You were starting a life with Mathew and forming your new family, and your father was losing his child to the man who loves you as much as he does.

You put the photo back in the envelope and grab the next one. It was the photo of the kiss after the officiant said, “you may now kiss your bride.” You and Mathew both had wide smiles on your faces as you leaned in for the first kiss as a married couple. You remember how eager Mathew was to kiss you and how much he needed to kiss you. Sometimes, it makes you wonder how he goes on long roadtrips without kissing you. Mathew’s hands were sitting on your waist under the edges of your veil with his gold wedding band reflecting the light of the ceremony’s venue. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders with the light reflecting off your grandmother’s tennis bracelet, your something old, and Mathew’s grandmother’s gold bracelet, your something borrowed. The space between you two was non-existent as you both needed to be as close as possible to kiss. You and Mathew both had a professional photographer at the wedding, but there was something more special about the photo being taken by someone who you loved.

The fifth photo is of you and Mathew giving each other a bite of your wedding cake after biting it. You both opted for a traditional two-tiered cake with white fondant and flowers around the base. Mathew had his left arm on your waist, your veil taken off to preserve it, with his right hand holding a fork close to your mouth. You had your dominant hand resting on his chest with your nondominant hand with a fork in it to feed Mathew a piece of cake. You both were looking in each other’s eyes but midlaugh. You couldn’t remember what he said that made you laugh so hard, but you did.

The six and final photo Liana took was of your send off. To reminisce from your high school graduation party, you and Mathew opted for a sparkler send off. Sure, it was cliche but much of your relationship with Mathew was a cliche. You and Mathew were standing in front of his car as your family and friends held sparklers cheering for you all. Mathew had his hands cupping your face and giving you a kiss with a wide smile on his face. You had your arms in his hair holding him close to you. It was a perfect ending for the day of your dreams with the man of your dreams starting the life of your dreams.

“I can’t wait to see all the professional photos,” you tell him as you put the envelope on the nightstand.

“Who really needs professional photos?”

“I mean, we have all those polaroids from growing up but not many from last night, so we do?”

Mathew looks at you and smiles. “I guess we do.”

The professional photos were exactly what you were hoping for. Each time you looked at them, your heart beat just a tad faster and your stomach did somersaults. Mathew always did have that effect on you.

Honeymoon

After the wedding of your dreams, you and Mathew were off to Paris for a honeymoon of your dreams. Sure, it was very cliche, but, again, everything about yours and Mathew’s relationship was a cliche.

It was halfway through the trip when it dawned on Mathew that you both didn’t have a polaroid photo together. He was shocked to say the least when he realized it. That same day, you and Mathew were heading to the Eiffel Tower, and Mathew figured it was the best opportunity for a photo op, so he threw the camera into your purse and made a mental promise to get a photo of the two of you.

You and Mathew purchased your tickets and took the elevator to the top of the tower. On the descent, you and Mathew got off on the second level to get more pictures opting to take the steps down. You were looking at the Parisian skyline with Mathew holding you against his chest. Your arms were crossed against your chest with Mathew’s arms on top of yours. The metal of his wedding band sending shivers down your spine.

“Can we take a photo?” Mathew mumbles against your ear.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. You aren’t sure why you whispered, but you didn’t want to break the intimate moment.

“I’ll go find someone to take it for us. Polaroid, right?”

You smile softly. “Yeah.”

Mathew asks one of the working attendants to take a photo for you two. You hand the polaroid camera to the attendant. You and Mathew take the same position you were just in; however, now, you were both facing away from the skyline. You smile for the camera, but, as usual, Mathew isn’t looking at the camera but at you.

“Your husband wasn’t looking at the camera, would you like me to retake it?” the attendant asks.

You laugh softly. “No, that’s okay. Thank you.”

The attendant walks away as you look at the photo. “Why don’t you ever look at the camera? We rarely have any photos of us — polaroid or digital — where you look at the camera.”

“I think I’ve said this already, Yn, but there’s no need to look at the camera when all I want to look at is you.”

You smile and shake your head playfully at your husband. “Okay, smooth talker, take a photo of me?”

“Gladly.”

Mathew took way too many pictures of you on his phone, but his words were “it’s important to capture your world in someone else’s eyes” which he did.

Age 27

Three weeks after giving birth to your first son, Isaac, you and Mathew were exhausted to say the least. Being new parents and with the stress of the end of the regular season coming soon, you and Mathew were just plain exhausted.

Mathew was at a hockey game that night. Somehow, despite the exhaustion of being a new father, Mathew was still playing well. He managed to have a four point night; the commentators said something about his new found “father strength.”

The game ended about an hour ago, and Mathew would be home any minute. Finally, finally, Isaac was sleeping and wasn’t crying. You posted a note on the door for Mathew telling him that if he woke Isaac, you were going to a hotel to sleep. Mathew, chuckled to himself, when he read your note. He walked into your apartment, and his heart melted at what he saw. You were sitting on the couch with Isaac sleeping on your chest. You were stroking his back to keep him quiet. Every few moments you’d kiss his head out of love.

You left the polaroid camera on the kitchen counter after taking a few photos of Isaac and your new family. Leaving the camera out allowed for Mathew to take a photo of you without knowing. He puts his stuff down quietly and picks up the camera. He takes it out of the case and snaps a photo. The flash of the camera startles you slightly. When you look over to the flash, you smile when you see your husband. Mathew places the photo facedown on the table and walks over to you. He takes his tie off and rests it on the side of the couch. He sits next to you and kisses your forehead. “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hi,” you whisper back.

“How was Isaac?”

“He was good,” you tell him. “I’m tired. I’m not sure how I’m going to get through the rest of his life.”

“Hey, we’ll be okay, okay? We’ll figure it out, okay?” Mathew reassures.

You nod. “Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

Later that night, you put Isaac down for bed and enter your bedroom. You fell asleep easily that night in Mathew’s arms with a soft smile on your face. Yeah, everything would be okay.

Age 28

Shortly after giving birth to Isaac, both you and Mathew were hit with a really bad case of baby fever. Everytime you or Mathew held Isaac, the next immediate thought you both had was “let’s have another baby.” Every time you saw Mathew doing skin-to-skin contact with Isaac, your heart would flutter with love for your husband, your son, and a strong desire for another baby.

Seven months postpartum, you finally felt comfortable with approaching your husband with the topic of having another baby. Mathew was super excited that you brought it up. At first, trying to conceive was slightly painful. You were both patient with the process knowing it would happen when it would happen. You finally conceived after six months of trying.

Five months later, you felt comfortable announcing it to the world. You bought a whiteboard and wrote a message that said, “Baby Barzal #2 coming soon.” Also, you placed the ultrasound photo on the top corner with a baby jersey with “Barzal 02” on it. You took a photo of it to post both on yours and Mathew’s instagrams. You smiled at the messages you received from your friends, family, the WAGs, and Mathew’s teammates. You both opted not to tell anyone except for immediate family wanting to enjoy the news on your own for the time being.

“Mathew, do you know where the polaroid camera is?” you call out realizing that you had a polaroid of the baby announcement for Isaac but not baby number two.

“On the dresser, probably,” he called from Isaac’s room. You could hear the scrunch in his nose as he changed Isaac’s smelly diaper.

“Thanks, babe,” you call back and walk into your bedroom. You grab the camera and walk back to where you have the pregnancy announcement still sitting on the floor. You snap a photo and smile as you place it on the wall.

With baby #2, your heart was full and excited for what would be coming in the future.

Age 29

“Anthony, please?” you beg.

“Why do you guys always get me to take the photos of the two of you?” Anthony whines.

“Because you’re the best at it!” These words do not convince him further to take a photo of you, Mathew, your daughter, Shannon, and your son, Isaac. “What about, if we have another baby, we name them Anthony”

“What? No,” Mathew yells. “No way. No more kids”

“Just give me the camera,” Anthony sighs. You, who is holding Shannon, and Mathew, who is holding Isaac, walk out to the door of your new house. Shortly after finding out you were pregnant with your second child, you and Mathew began looking for a house to live in, figuring an apartment, no matter the size, was too small for the family you both wanted to build.

Mathew holds Isaac in his right arm and wraps his left arm around your waist. You hold Shannon in your left arm with your right arm wrapped around Mathew and look up at him and smile. He smiles back down at you. Anthony knows, after taking way too many polaroids for you two, when to take the photo — when you both inevitably kiss. As he expected, Mathew leans down and kisses you with a wide smile. Anthony holds up the camera and snaps a photo. You both pull back as Anthony hands the photo and camera to you.

“One of your future kids better have Anthony as their middle name or something. Don’t say you’re not having more because we both know the way Barzy is,” he grumbles as he walks back into your newly finished house.

Mathew goes into Isaac’s bedroom to put him down for a nap as you put Shannon down for a nap and grab the tape to put this new polaroid photo on the wall. You put it up and smile at the rows and rows of photos that line the walls. You stand there looking sentimentally at all the memories.

“Hey, you okay?” Mathew asks and rests an arm around your waist.

“Yeah, just look at all the photos from our lives,” you tell him. You rest your head on his chest as you both your eyes trace over the photos. The photos spanned from many different parts of your lives, both together and separately. On the wall, there are many photos of you and Mathew from when you were young, to young adults, to adults living together in New York. On this wall tells the story of how you were best friends from a young age to being lovers to finally being married. The wall tells the stories of you and your friends from high school and college, and it tells the story of Mathew’s hockey career. The wall tells the story of your engagement and marriage. All the photos are a piece of who you both are.

“Here’s to many more photos on this wall,” Mathew says.

“And to maybe another wall dedicated to polaroid photos,” you add on getting a smirk from Mathew.

“The more kids we have, the more photos we’re going to have.”

You giggle. “I thought you didn’t want any more kids.”

“We make some really great kids, so maybe.”

“And it's not because you have a breeding kink?” you tease, and Mathew blushes at your words.

“Maybe it’s because you look great pregnant.”

“So, maybe more kids?” you suggest with a smile.

“Maybe more kids,” Mathew confirms with a kiss on your cheek.

Despite the wall being 75% filled, you knew that your best days were still ahead of you. You couldn’t wait for the future photos that will tell the story of yours and Mathew’s lives together.

Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @boqvistsbabe @heatherawoowoo @heaveniish @stars-canucks @tkapuckit @mellany1997 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @heybarzy @2manytabsopen @habsfan @besthockeyfics @plds2000 @kaitieskidmore1 @iwantahockeyhimbo @tysonsjosty @barzysandmarnersbitch @ollywahlygator @leafs-forever @laurenairay @no-pucks-given @sixmapleleafs @davopuck @thebestoffanfiction @islesnucks (Join my taglist here!)

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versadies · 3 years

Note

Hey!!! How are you?

Congratulations on your 1k followers

Can I request aries + Kazuha + hc scenario + fluffy...?

Today is the last day of the event, I just saw it today, at least it wasn't after the event ended ;w;

⠀

I'm thinking about having a nickname to join the anon squad... Maybe 🇧🇷 anon? Your content came to a Brazilian person! Congratulations on your content reaching someone on the other side of the world :)

in the next life (hc scenario, reincarnation au)

penpal: hi hi, i’m doing great ty 🇧🇷 anon!! i’m so happy to know that my content has reached to the other side of the world 🥺🥺 i hope you like this <<3

prompt: aries the ram, red-string soulmate au

pairing/s: kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader

sypnosis: sometimes, happy endings can only happen in another lifetime. (or, hc on how you and kazuha met during the modern era of teyvat)

includes: slight spoilers to inazuma quests (2.0), fluff/slight angsty, reincarnation au, mentions of death, modern au, rushed ending

soulmates has always been one of the things that made teyvat special.

people had all collectively agreed that meeting their soulmate is one of the most treasuring moment, no matter how strange or hilarious the first encounter is like, no one should ever forget the once-in-a-lifetime moment.

with that said, most stories are usually soulmates– specifically how one meets their fated other. historical moments are no exception to this, such as an archon's first ever encounter with their soulmate during an annual rite, a forbidden love between an immortal being and a human, a sweet story of a soldier and a healer during a certain war, and the list goes on.

but where are stories that contains soulmates who had never met one another? or had a tragic fate that gave them no opportunity to get along with their soulmate anymore?

none.

some would say they'll meet in the afterlife, where they can live on in peace as the world goes on. while some would beg to differ and think that the two soulmates are just bound to not meet.

only little would suggest reincarnation.

and you and your beloved soulmate are one of those little people.

but you honestly didn't think that you and kazuha would be the soulmates with a tragic fate.

the both of you had met thanks to the resistance. when beidou decided to introduce kazuha to kokomi, he met you along the way– the right-hand-person of kokomi and his soulmate.

the both of you had instantly clicked when you met, the wide smile the both of you had appeared when you notice each other's red string being connected.

since then, you were inseparable.

on days when your assigned unit didn't need your assistance at the moment, you usually use those times to hung out with the samurai, often talking about each other's adventures and experiences with the best you can.

it was those days when you incredibly cherished the moments, making sure to remember every second of those moments you had with him before going on battles against kujou sara and her soldiers.

unfortunately for the both of you, the memories that you oh-so cherished would be the last one you'll ever make.

"see you in the next life... kaedehara kazuha," you whispered, staring at the samurai as the both of you lie down on the cold ground with soldiers fighting around the both of you, blood gushing out from your mouth. "whether it'd be in the next life or another, may celestia let us have another chance."

you watched as kazuha smiled lightly, his hand shakily trying to reach out to yours until he intertwines it together. "till we meet again, y/n."

as the war between the resistance and the raiden shogun continued, you and kazuha let out your one last breath before passing away.

much to you and kazuha's hopes, the war against the vision hunt decree won victoriously, with the raiden shogun lifting up the decree and brought inazuma back to its usual peaceful life before the decree.

of course, the resistance alongside the traveler paid respects to you and kazuha's passing, telling you that you and kazuha can rest now that they won.

as centuries flew by, teyvat had a major change among the nations. in this particular century, archons and visions had long been forgotten, with technology around the world being more advanced than before. as for soulmates? they still exist fortunately.

then there's you, a person who found joy in traveling around the world and tell the world about it. at least, that's what people think.

to you, you simply wanted to travel around teyvat to find a person named kaedehara kazuha.

recently, you started getting dreams of a man who goes by kaedehara kazuha. some were usually romantic that it gave you butterflies, some were conversations that you sometimes would forget, and of course, the dreams that often haunt you.

most dreams of yours were always lying down beside the man– who was bleeding to death. was this a sign of him dying? what is the purpose of these dreams?

you didn't know why this was happening to you. are you slowly going insane? or were you just overreacting?

whatever it was, you knew that deep down that it has something to do with your soulmate.

you went high and low around each nation you visited, often asking certain people if they've know a man named kaedehara kazuha, only to receive no useful information that could help you.

of course, your only source that could help you find him is the red string that connects you and your soulmate, following the direction it led you with hopes of it twitching as a sign that you're near.

unfortunately, none of the nations you've visited had no signs of who you're looking for.

your last stop is inazuma, a nation that's infamous for having beautiful firework shows and tourist spots. there's not a single place that isn't worth taking pictures of.

the moment you arrived to the nation using a boat,l you came across to a woman whose name is beidou.

"i don't know a man whose name has a kaedehara, but i have a son who coincidentally has the same name as kazuha!" she exclaims with a grin. "i don't think he's the one you're looking for though, i've never seen him hung out with someone like you or anyone else who isn't gorou."

you smile lightly at the woman, trying to not look disappointed. "i see.. thank you again, miss beidou."

she quickly waved you off. "good luck in finding the man you're looking for!"

the moment you immediately checked in ritou, you started exploring around the nation with no plans of stopping, hoping to see at least one person who looks like the man in your dreams or has their red string connected to your finger.

unfortunately, every area you've visited in the land, you still haven't found the end of the string, your hopes slowly dying down as time flew by.

you decided to explore more the next day, deciding to go back to inazuma city and have dinner in one of their infamous restaurants.

as you sat down on one of the stools while waiting for kanbei to cook your meals, you let out a disappointed sigh. if you couldn't find your soulmate anywhere, where could he be?

what if kaedehara kazuha doesn't exist at all? what if he died before you could even meet him and find out what's going on with your dreams?

you let out another sigh, rubbing the back of your neck in frustration. you hoped all of this wasn't a waste of your time. you honestly don't know what to do if you won't be able to find him at all, let alone what happens after you meet him.

unnoticed by you, your red string started twitching nonstop. a man suddenly enters the place, sitting down one seat away from where you are.

"rough day, kazuha?" kanbei asked, not bothering to look away from the pot as he continues to focus on cooking your meal.

"not exactly. i found a perfect spot to write haiku." the man, kazuha, replied.

as kazuha and kanbei continued conversing, you couldn't help but find yourself slowly drifting to sleep, now feeling the exhaustion from your exploration around the nation.

before you could completely pass out on the counter, you immediately woke up from the delicious smell of your meal, looking up to see the chef being finished with your meal already. perhaps the reviews weren't lying when they said this restaurant is fast with services.

you quietly thanked the chef when he placed the meal down in front of you, feeling your mouth watering at the sight of the delicious meal before digging up, still not noticing the red string twitching nonstop due to your focus on filling your hunger.

"thank you again, kanbei." kazuha speaks up as he grabs the packaged food from the chef's hands and hands over the payment.

"always happy to serve, kazuha. see ya tomorrow." kanbei said, watching as the man walks away from the restaurant.

out of curiosity, you glance at who you assume is beidou's son, only for your eyes to widen at the sight of the same man that you've been seeing in your dreams–

along with his red string connecting to yours.

without thinking, you immediately jumped down from your stool, staring at kazuha, who already walked out from the diner without a glance of your direction. "i'll be back and continue eating my meal. apologies for my rudeness!" you exclaim before running towards kazuha's direction without letting a single word come out from kanbei, who was confused at your words.

"kazuha!" you yelled, hoping kazuha would hear your voice despite the sounds of cars and people being loud around the both of you.

you tried to call for the man again, only for you to get frustrated when he still hadn't heard a word from you. was he wearing earphones?!

you immediately look down at your string and back at kazuha, hesitating for a moment before shaking the string aggresively. please, please, please look back! please look like you're him–

you sigh in relief when he finally noticed his string shaking, causing him to stop his trakcs and look behind him to see you running towards him like your life depends on it.

his eyes widens at the sight of you running towards him, your face was all too familiar for him to remember. it can't be, you only existed in his dreams!

the both of you suddenly remember certain memories the both of you didn't even knew you had. memories of which the both of you used to be in. memories of the both of you walking around the infamous serpent head as soldiers trained with all their might for the upcoming war, memories of the both of you watching the stars and wish for the resistance to win victoriously, memories of your past life that you and kazuha had forgotten.

that was enough for kazuha to run towards you as well, his arms suddenly spreading wide open for you to clashed into, dropping his food without a care.

the moment you and kazuha finally had gotten closer, you tackled the man into a hug as tears prickled in your eyes, ignoring the questionable stares the both of you received from people passing by.

"i found you." you whispered, closing your eyes shut as you let out a sound of relief. "after so.. so many months, i finally found you."

kazuha hugs you back, pulling you closer to his body as he sighs in relief. now that there's no more wars or something to run away from, the both of you can start anew and live the life the both of you had wanted back then.

"i missed you."

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Dating is still only about love

Summary: Based on the prompt received in AO3 "Reader is a lot like Bucky. Bucky saves Reader, and recruits him to the Avengers team. Reader and Wanda begin to develop a relationship, but it is shy and awkward because Reader is from 1940." ///////////// Read on AO3 too

Words: 3.914k (one) //

Warnings: 13+ Fluff and a bit of language, mentions of torture.

Notes: I think this turned out to be more about the 1940 reader in love than anything else, but I hope you enjoy it.

Part II (Special Smut request)

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

You are dancing to Glenn Miller in a bar in Brooklyn. Your parents would kill you if they saw you now, spinning in the arms of a stranger. But you laugh, and move your body to the music.

And then you see Bucky and Steve, entering the place, and you let go of your partner and run to hug them.

- Hi, boys! - You greet them with a smile that they respond to.

- Someone is cheerful. - Bucky jokes looking at your slightly alcoholic state.

You fake a serious expression.

- Are you implying that your superior is drunk, Sergeant Barnes?

Bucky laughs at your imitation of an authoritative voice, and you turn to Steve, who looks mildly annoyed.

- Hey, Rogers. Why the long face? - you ask, and he shrugs. You can tell by Bucky's expression. He had been rejected from the army again, and you let out a sigh and decide to cheer him up. - Come on, Steve! Let's dance!

You pull him by the hand before he can refuse. And eventually, he laughs. Bucky joins you next, and the three of you spin around the room, your steps out of sync as you laugh.

/-/

You try to move but there is something holding you to the surface where you are lying. And then you try to scream for help, but there is something in your mouth that prevents you from doing so.

You widen your eyes with surprise when a man dressed in white appears in your field of vision, and he fits something cold to your head.

You grumble against the tightness in your mouth, but he just gives you a mocking smile.

- Vital signs? - He speaks in German. You close your eyes tightly when a light goes on in front of you.

- Stable. - Says a second voice in the room that you don't know where it comes from.

- Good. You can apply now.

And then you feel your veins burn, and you scream, but your scream is muffled by the object in your mouth. The pain chokes you until you can't see anything anymore.

/-/

Someone is pulling you. You blink to regain consciousness, but it takes a long time. You are tired, but there is a feeling that is in your body that you don't know.

- Hey, Y/N. - You hear someone calling, and then you take a breath trying to remember. - Can you hear me? Can you walk?

- Bucky... - You grumble and accept the arm he offers you to get up. - Where the...?

- We don't have time, we need to get out of here.

And then you are running out of the compound where you were being held prisoner. Bucky is wearing the same clothes as you. And then you see Steve, but he looks nothing like the Steve you knew. This Steve is tall, and muscular, but still has the same gentle look as your friend. But you don't have time to ask.

-/-/

You haven't rested for a long time. But that's okay, you want to help your country win the war. You want to help Steve, and you believe in him. And so you and Bucky jump on a train for him.

- Watch out! - You warn your friends, and they just shrug as they smile.

And things go well for about five minutes, and then one of the Hydra soldiers has a gun pointed at Bucky, and the next second you are jumping on the man.

When Bucky goes to help you, a second man appears. A grenade explodes ripping out half the compartment and you hear a whistle in your ear. You manage to knock out the man who pinned you down, but then someone kicks you in the back out of the train. You grab the metal bar, and when Bucky is thrown out, you hold him fast.

You see Steve run up to you two, his hand outstretched in the air to reach you. And then the iron breaks and you both fall.

-/-/

You wake up in a jolt, in a cold sweat. And there are chains on your wrists. You let out an angry grunt.

No one tells you who these men who test you are. And every time you scream or try to free yourself, they inject something that makes you lethargic, and vulnerable. And then they electrocute your mind, and you forget any flash of memory that might appear.

As long as you don't remember who you are, you accept every command they give you.

-/-/

You use a pillar of the building next to you to protect yourself from gunfire. You are starting to get annoyed.

Your mission is to eliminate the Winter Soldier, or divergent soldier, as your leader has begun to call him.

But he is being particularly difficult to eliminate, especially since there is a man with a shield and a woman with a machine gun protecting him.

And then you use bombs, and disarm them. The men who came with you keep them busy while you run towards your target, and throw him to the ground with a blow to his ribs.

You arm your knife, but he gets up quickly, fending off every attack as skillfully as you do.

And then he hits you in the face, and your mask falls off. You have a gun pointed at his face next, but the completely shocked look on his face makes you hesitate.

- Y/N?

- I don't... - You find yourself talking, but then there is a second explosion that distracts you, and then the man disarms you.

You strike back, knocking him to the ground. But you run away, and on your way back to the Hydra establishments, you say that you have lost sight of him.

-/-/

You are being punished. Again. You've been failing a lot in your tests, and you've been unstable for weeks. You don't want to obey any of those people, you want to go back to the man on the road who knew you and ask him about your life.

And then there are shocks in your head, but you don't forget. And then they throw you into a cell, saying that the madness from hunger will take away any memory from you.

But then there are loud noises that you think are coming from bombs. And then the man in the road is in front of your cell, and he rips the door off with a metal arm, and reaches out to help you up.

-/-/

It takes time to get your memories back. But it happens. And you cry a lot when you remember everything.

You remember your hometown, your parents, your pet dog. You remember jogging down the street from your house, and playing ball with the kids. You remember punching a boy in the face because he pushed Steve Rogers off a swing. You remember delivering a frog you found on the sidewalk into Bucky Barnes' hand. You remember finding Bucky and Steve kissing in the alley behind your house and remember promising to keep it a secret when they cry.

You remember entering the US Army before Bucky. You remember the training, and the battles, and most of all the war. And then you feel your heart fill with warmth and longing when you remember the dances. So many parties where you went jazz dancing, most of them with Bucky and Steve.

You lose your breath when you remember Hydra. When you remember the experiments, and the murders. But Bucky holds your hand, and assures you that you are the same girl who danced with your two best friends at the prom even when the most handsome young man in high school asked for a dance, and assures you that you are not what Hydra wanted you to become. You repeat the same words to him, and you hold each other for a while.

-/-/

Bucky wants you to join the Avengers. He has been a member for a few months, and then he rescued you, and he doesn't want you to just hang around like him. He wants to help you, and he wants you to have a home.

When you nod in agreement, he hugs you.

-/-/

- Here is your room. - Said Bucky as he led you down a long hallway in the Avengers compound. He held your bag, even though you said there was no need for it.

You entered the space, and you let out an impressed hiss. It was definitely better than the motels and well, any place you had actually been sleeping in all these years.

- When you're ready, come meet the rest of the team. - He said as he left his suitcase on the bed. He flashes you a smile before leaving.

You look around, still impressed. It would be strange to call this place a home, but you were willing to give it a try. Besides this, your best friends were here. There was nothing to be scared of.

-/-/

You were wrong.

Everything was perfectly under control, you smiled and waved politely to all the Avengers, and even laughed at Tony Stark's jokes. And then you met Wanda Maximoff, leaving training and arriving late for your introduction to the team and looking absolutely stunning.

- Hi, sorry I'm late everybody. - She said as she entered the room. And then her gaze fell on you, and she gave an embarrassed smile as she held out her hand. - I'm Wanda, I think we're going to be door-mates.

Unable to form a coherent sentence, you just smiled awkwardly, shaking Wanda's hand, and hoping that she didn't think you were a complete idiot.

And then Bucky and Steve finished introducing you to the team, and everyone went back to their activities.

You let your gaze linger on Wanda, before quickly turning away, blushing. It was amazing how unlucky you were. You had barely arrived, and already you had a crush.

-/-/

Things are going well, you think. You got along with everyone on the team, you did well in practice, and you had a secret crush on Wanda. Maybe the last part wasn't so good, but you are optimistic.

You eventually realized that Wanda was quite anti-social, and didn't talk much with the other team members.

That might have made things difficult, because if she had a close friend, you could ask this friend to speak well of you.

You grumbled to yourself as you cooked your dinner. You were used to preparing your meals, and almost always the other avengers joined you. When the food started to smell, they appeared.

- Great! Y/N food. - Tony said as soon as he entered the room, and you giggled. You were stirring the sauce when Wanda came into the kitchen. She smiled at you as she walked towards you and you tried to hide your nervousness.

- Wow, this looks tasty. - She said, looking at the contents of the pot. You smiled, handing her the spoon in your hand. She then tasted some of the sauce, and let out a satisfied groan. You tried not to stare so hard at her lips. - This is delicious.

You just nodded with flushed cheeks, and Wanda gave you a curious look before turning toward the table.

You decided that you had better do something soon or she would think you were completely crazy.

And then that night, after dinner, you called Bucky up to your room.

- You have to help me with something! - you told him as you walked in. You slumped in your chair, tapping your feet on the floor in nervousness, and he sat down across from you.

- What was it? Did something happen? - he asked worriedly.

- I need to ask a girl out!

You look surprised. And then you laugh.

- I thought it was something bad. - He grumbles, leaning back in his chair.

- It's not bad, it's terrible! - You replied, running your hands through your hair. - I have no idea how to ask a girl out! In fact, I never knew how to ask anyone out. The boys did it in '36s.

Bucky laughs at your desperation, and you bury your face in your hands.

- Hey, calm down. - He says, straightening his posture and looking at you tenderly. - I swear dating is still as hard as it was in the 40s.

- Was that supposed to make me feel better? - You grumble as you take your face out of his hands and look at him. Bucky laughs.

- I was going to say that, regardless of the era, dating is still about liking someone. - He replies. - It's scary, but you can do it. Why don't you try inviting her over as a friend?

You stand thoughtfully for a moment.

- I don't understand. - You say. - How does the date work between friends?

Bucky laughed again.

- It's not a date, Y/N. - he says. - It's just a hangout among friends.

You frown.

- But I like her.

- Wow, you're difficult. - Bucky scoffs lightly. - People in this century go on unromantic walks together all the time.

- That sounds like a lie. - You retort with a smile, Bucky laughs. - And how will she know that I like her?

- You tell her.

You let out a nervous laugh.

- Worst possible idea. - You grumble as you throw your back into your chair. - Besides, I haven't seen you date anyone since '35. I think I'll ask someone else for advice. - You mock lightly, and Bucky rolls his eyes humorously.

- I've been busy. - he says. - By the way, have you ever seen what they call dating apps? It's creepy.

You laugh and nod, and Bucky moves to reach for his cell phone. He spends the rest of the day showing you how dating works in this century, and you laugh a lot.

-/-/

You made too much hot chocolate. Maybe it was on purpose.

What is relevant is that you are walking toward Wanda's room, carrying a mug for her.

Bucky was in the kitchen with you, and when he got some of the drink, he said that the opportunity for you to make conversation with Wanda was right in front of you.

So here you were, trying not to look so anxious as you knocked on the door.

When Wanda opened the door, she was wearing a sweatshirt and looked comfortable and very pretty. You thought you were staring, so you hurried to say:

- H-hi. I brought you some chocolate. - You say and Wanda looks surprised, but smiles.

- That's very sweet, thank you. - She says to you as she accepts the drink. You feel your cheeks heat up as your hands rub together for a brief moment.

And then a noise you knew well can be heard, and you let out a surprised exclamation.

- Wow, you like Sweet American Family? - you asked excitedly when you noticed the old sitcom you used to watch playing on the in-room television.

Wanda raised her eyebrow slightly in surprise, and then gave you space to enter the room, and your body just followed the cue automatically, too excited about the show, without really thinking that you were walking into Wanda's room.

- Do you know it? - She replies with surprise and you laugh as you approach the television.

- Of course I do! - you reply excitedly. - I used to watch it with my parents.

Wanda takes a sip of her drink while you stare at the television.

- Watch it with me, then.

It takes a second for you to register the invitation, and your heart races, but you nod with a smile, and watch Wanda sit on her own bed, and pat the duvet for you to join her. Trying not to look like a complete mess, you follow her.

You watch in silence for a few minutes, and a joke later you are used to Wanda's presence.

- So how accurate is this show? - She asks with a smile, leaving her mug on the small table. You sigh thoughtfully.

- Well, we didn't used to eat in our rooms. - You comment, watching the scene on television, and Wanda nods looking interested. - But they got the bad food right, and the tight clothes and weird social rules.

Wanda giggles and goes back to watching. And then the episode switches to a romantic scene, two teenagers talking at school.

- Wow, that was scary. - You comment watching the boy try to invite the girl for a walk.

Wanda looks at you curiously, wanting to know more. You smile.

- The kids used to wait for us in between classes. - You tell her. - And they were very obvious about it. Usually the whole school knew that you were going on a date with someone.

- Have you been on many dates?

You giggle.

- I didn't like the boys at my high school very much. - You confess. - But I liked to dance. And so they called me to dances, and I said yes. And then I was enlisted, and I started hanging out with the soldiers. It was fun.

- Sounds like great. - She comments with a smile. - In a way, it seems like it was easier.

You let out a surprised exclamation, laughing lightly.

- Wanda, no way! - You respond with humor. - It was horrible! Scary! And all the dates were ultra official, and people expected you to be engaged! Bucky told me that nowadays people go out as friends? That is impressive.

Wanda laughs, and leans on the bed crossing her legs and turning completely toward you.

- But people aren't as romantic as they used to be! - she smiles back. You imitate her position, while you ignore the TV show to talk. - No one seems anxious or shy about going out anymore. There are no flowers, or requests to hold your hand. People just text you to get laid.

You feel your cheeks heat up a little, but laugh at the comment. And then you have an idea.

- I would like to invite you to something. - You say, surprising Wanda suddenly. You swallow your nervousness. - A proper evening out, like the one you saw on TV.

-W-what?

- A date, Wanda. - You clarify with a blush. - But it's okay if you don't want to...

- I do. - She interrupts with a shy smile. - I'd love to go for on a date with you.

You smile, looking away. And the credits music for the episode begins to rise.

- When do you want to go? - you ask her, twiddling your fingers nervously.

- As soon as possible, I'm excited. - She says with a smile, and you let out a giggle. Then you get out of bed.

- Okay, then, Miss Maximoff. - you say with a smile. - I need time to organize this, so I'll pick you up here in your room tomorrow at seven?

- Sounds great. - Wanda agrees with a smile.

You nod slightly before leaving the room. When you are walking down the hallway, you can't stop smiling.

-/-/

Wanda was wearing a simple, blue dress in the same 40s style when you picked her up. You choked in surprise, thinking she looked absolutely stunning. And she blushed and thanked you when you told her so.

Tony lent you one of his classic cars, and you drove to the sounds of old jazz toward the carnival that was set up in town that week. You didn't notice Wanda looking at you as you hummed the song.

The park was very busy, and they had many entertainment options, but you made sure to ask what Wanda wanted to do.

You competed in the bumper cars and laughed every time your cars hit each other. Wanda threw her head back laughing, and everything seemed to go in slow motion with the image.

And then you went on several other attractions, and then she pointed to the Ferris wheel.

You both let out excited sighs as the cabin began to rise.

- Wow, this is amazing! - She commented excitedly, you agreed as you looked down, seeing the ground getting farther and farther away.

- The Ferris wheels were smaller. - You say, and Wanda lets out a giggle.

- Are you going to tell me you are afraid of heights now?

You laugh lightly and look at Wanda.

- If I had, and I had accepted your invitation, would I look braver? - You retort sheepishly. Wanda bites her lip thoughtfully, but still smiles.

- Why does it matter, are you trying to impress me?

You look away in surprise, and feel your cheeks heat up. Well, Bucky had told you to be honest after all.

- Only if it's working. - You retort with a slight insecurity in your voice. Wanda smiles though.

- Oh, believe me. It's working very well. - She answers finally, and then you two are on the top.

You try not to blush so much at Wanda's affirmation, and you bite back the smile on your lips. And then she asks you about the dances of your day, and you almost forget to be nervous.

And then you walked side by side off the Ferris wheel, and you took her to see the shooting games, and when you hit all the targets, she whispered that being a trained sniper should be considered cheating. You won many tickets, and you carried the big teddy bear you won for Wanda.

You take her to eat cotton candy, and you laugh as you share the flavors. And then you think you have seen all the toys and are walking back to the car, smiling.

Wanda keeps the teddy inside the back seat, but doesn't get into the vehicle. From your position, the distant light of the Ferris wheel partially illuminates the parking lot, and Wanda's green orbs catch your eye.

- Did you enjoy the evening, Wanda? - you ask her as you approach. She is leaning on the car door, and smiles at you tenderly.

- I loved it. - She confesses. - I didn't want to leave.

You chuckle shyly, looking down at your shoes.

- We can do it again. - You say. - I could take you dancing.

Wanda lets out an excited exclamation.

- Please, I'd love to. - She says, smiling. You think your heart will explode with happiness.

You are silent for a moment, and then Wanda straightens her posture, slightly shy.

- I think we missed something on our walk.

- What? - You look at her anxiously, but Wanda smiles tenderly.

- You didn't ask to hold my hand.

You let out a shy little laugh, coming closer. You stop a step away from Wanda, and hold out your hands. Wanda smiles, and raises her hands to yours. You let your hands fall together at the front of your bodies, waving them lightly as you kept they together.

- How did these walks used to end? - Wanda asks softly, you think that the closeness is preventing you from thinking correctly.

- I would lead you to your front door. - You say. - And you would decide if I deserve a kiss on the cheek.

Wanda smiles, blushing. She looks away quickly, and sighs lightly. You were going to ask if everything was okay, but her sentence makes your mind shut down.

- I want to kiss you now. - she confesses. And then she brings your faces together until your foreheads rest against each other. - Is that okay?

- Yes.

And then the distance is broken. Wanda kisses you on the mouth gently, and you sigh at the sensation. You think that maybe you shouldn't kiss like that on a first date, but your tongue asks for passage and Wanda accepts. And then you have her pressed against the car.

It feels good, and it makes your heart race, and it's the best you've felt since 1940.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxyou #wandaxreader #marvel imagines #oneshot

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del1ghted · 3 years

Note

I just found your blog and really love your modern Xiao and Childe! would you maybe do some for Albedo or Diluc? :)

mhm of course !!

short modern au diluc & albedo relationship headcanons

pairings: diluc x reader, albedo x reader

warnings: none

fandom: genshin impact

gender neutral pronouns used as always !

diluc

-> diluc is rich and rather well known around town, so i don’t think he’d be into public restaurant dates since too many people come up to him with questions about him or your relationship. he’d rather have a fancy meal at home with just the two of you, completely relaxed with the fireplace flickering in the background.

-> an absolute pro at cooking. despite him having adelinde and countless other maids at his disposal he prefers to be independent and be able to do things for himself. he tells you about the summer when he was younger how he desired to be a chef, which led to him learning and trying to perfect countless of dishes until the dream wore itself out. the recipes he favored the most he knows by heart and has you try them.

-> allows you and only you to braid and try different styles on him since he has a lot of hair, although he doesn’t have the courage to leave the comfort of his room with them unless you reassure him that he doesn't look ridiculous.

-> he can barely contain a soft smile if you show up during his shift at angel's share; if you agreed to hide your relationship for the sake of privacy it's pretty much useless since rumors spread regardless, no matter how hard diluc tries he can't stop how fond he looks when he sees you.

-> rants about his adoptive younger brother kaeya often. it's honestly a little endearing to see diluc riled up every once and awhile; losing his 'gentleman composure' in favor of smacking kaeya on the head occasionally. his jealousy stems from seeing you two together, while kaeya might have a naturally flirtatious personality he gets a little insecure if you get along really well with him.

-> this man goes above and beyond for anniversaries. he doesn't post much if not at all on social media but on special days he can't help but want to share how much he loves you with the world. diluc would book the fanciest places and have a little weekend get-away for just the two of you.

-> finds it adorable when you wear his coat, will subtly hand it to you more often under the guise that "it's cold."

"oh it's fine diluc i brought a jacke-"

"mine's better."

-> if you're bedridden with a fever he knows exactly what to do! used to taking care of himself and his brother while his dad was busy, adelinde also helps with providing medicine and soups that'll help with your headache. gives you his favorite brand of grape juice and light scented candles around your room to make you feel comfortable.

albedo

-> this boy's favorite thing to do is draw you. seriously- he keeps a separate sketchbook entirely dedicated to you because he can't get enough. it starts when he's at a cafe, mindlessly doodling over his notes when he realizes he's sketching out the beginnings of your face. he feels a little flustered but doesn't erase it because admittedly, he likes the drawing a lot.

-> not too good at expressing his love with words, so he'll reach down and lace your fingers together without explanation while recalling the results of an experiment.

-> loves museum, library, and study dates ! his favorite place to kiss you is against a shelf hidden away in the corner of the local bookstore - cupping your face oh so gently as he compliments your features.

-> a bit short tempered with others if he hasn't seen you all day; melts in your arms once he sees you and heaves a long sigh, complaining about everything that annoyed him that evening as you brush his hair back.

-> the slightest bit shy talking about his interests for long, thinks he's annoying you and may retreat just a bit once he realizes he's talked all evening. please tell him you adore hearing him speak about what he likes, his eyes will light up!!

“ah.. i apologize, i didn’t mean to continue for that long.”

“no no it’s alright! please continue i’m interested!”

“oh....okay then” :)

-> as said in his voicelines albedo thinks relationships are taxing because of the effort of maintaining it. his love language comes in quality time above all else, finding it much easier to stay in your presence. he’ll feel comfortable even if there’s no conversation going—you being there is enough.

-> if you’re an affectionate person he honestly might get a little spoiled and drunk off that love. good luck trying to leave bed in the morning, he’ll tug you down and wrap his arms around you stubbornly.

-> was never a morning person, the urge to stay in bed all the time only increases when he’s bundled up with you. despite his desire to never leave the comfort of the sheets, he brings you breakfast with your desired drink after you both get up.

A/N: i hope i gave you what you were looking for ! thank you for requesting !!

... i had to add sibling kaeya cameo because we dont get soft kaeya and dilic in canon sigh >:[

#albedo x reader #genshin impact #albedo x y/n #genshin albedo #genshin imagines #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #genshin diluc #diluc headcanons #albedo headcanons #genshin impact headcanons

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songbirdstyles · 4 years

Text

when the levee breaks

summary: you’re a waitress and harry is being stood up.

warnings: brief smut, angst, fluff, love at first sight <3 kind of

song inspo.: when the levee breaks - led zeppelin

word count: 9.5k

There’s always a particular vibe you get from people going on first dates.

It’s an easy one to notice and you and your coworkers love pointing it out - it’s an air of hope and romance, people arriving dressed their very best yet still holding some sort of awkwardness. It’s sweet, actually, and quite adorable and they’re always the nicest to you, needing to impress their date and make sure they know that they’re respectful. It’s the same reason they leave such a hefty tip - likely wanting to show they’re, at the very least, wealthy enough to tip 20% on a $100 tab and not have it hurt their pockets, or to prove that they respect waitresses enough to help you pay your rent. They’re always the tables you’re desperate to serve, not only for the tip they leave you but because you love getting a clue as to how the date goes, and most times it’s good. Once, you’d heard the guy’s date inquire about kids before their meals came, and they’d left barely minutes after paying their bill. Another time, a couple had arrived at 6 and hadn’t left until 11 on a Thursday night - nearly two hours after closing, and you’d nearly had to shoo them out the door when they weren’t going fast enough.

It varies often, but still - first date couples are your favourite, and when you see him walk up to the host stand, you know he’s another one.

The uncomfortableness is what tips you off, fiddling with one of the numerous rings on his finger as he leans back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting behind an elderly couple hoping to grab a table outdoors for some drinks. He’s dressed well, tucking a loose curl behind his ear and rolling up his sleeves and when he makes it up he’s confirming a reservation f’two, under th’name Harry Styles, please. And the girl at the host stand - the youngest host your boss has hired, you reckon, though you’d need to fact check it to be sure - picks up her pen and crosses his name out in the reservation book, a thick line running through his information and phone number before she’s grabbing a stack of menus (specials, wine, beer, and general, respectively) and telling him to follow me this way, sir as she leads him outside.

Well, you don’t see exactly where Brianna takes him before you remember the four waters that table 306 had asked for, and it’s not like you to get distracted like that by a customer - you’ve been a waitress for nearly three years since starting college and yet, no patron has ever caught your eye like Mr. Harry Styles. It’s a damn paradox, really - you only see attractive guys like him when they’re on dates and, by that point, they’re spoken for. There’s no room for you to mosey in and you wouldn’t do that to another girl, anyway, but still. You suppose it doesn’t matter (he looks wealthy enough to leave a good tip with or without a date, truthfully) but it still has you sighing as you grab four glasses, scooping ice into them and beginning to fill them with water.

Distraction is a bad look on a waitress, your manager had told you the last time you’d gotten distracted by a pretty girl and nearly dropped the plate of pasta you were holding. It makes your smile seem forced. And that was the first month you’d started working, before you’d realized that most customers treated the staff like objects to use to make themselves look or feel better - you’d seldom had to use her advice since then. But there’s a first - or second - time for everything, isn’t there? And he is your second time.

After you’ve delivered your waters, though, you’re made uncomfortably aware of the fact that Brianna had, indeed, seated Harry in your section. And it isn’t a bad thing, per se, except he is the most attractive man you’ve ever met and you can only imagine what his date is going to look like when they show up - probably dressed to the nines like he is, just a tad too fancy for an establishment like this and you’re sure you’ll feel insecure in your work-issued shirt and jeans but you suppose there’s nothing to do about it.

You try not to make it too obvious as you fix your hair, tying your ponytail higher up onto your head because it had been slipping down and you’re really not a huge fan of low ponytails. Normally you don’t mind but - sometimes the circumstances change.

He’s at table 305, leaning over his phone, fingers drumming against the table when you walk over to him, clutching two coasters in your hands and he looks up at you with a smile as you approach. And it’s easy - giving the same introductory speech you’ve given thousands of times before, telling him your name and how I’m going to be taking care of you tonight. “Can I get you started with something to drink?” you question, eyes flickering inconspicuously to the empty seat across from him. He’d pulled it out slightly, angling it out towards the sidewalk in clear anticipation of when his date enters so she can gracefully sit down without having to make a fuss about pulling the chair out - so he’s a gentleman, and it only worsens your moral dilemma at the situation.

“I’ll jus’ have a water, f’now,” he responds, smiling up at you and you nod, reaching down to rest one coaster in front of him and the other in front of the other seat. “M’waiting f’someone - then I’ll get somethin’ else.”

“Sounds good,” you tell him, giving him a smile as if you had no idea he was waiting for someone when, in fact, you’d known the second he walked through the doors. Quickly your eyes dart up and down the sidewalk, checking to see if anyone’s walking with their sights set on your restaurant but there’s nobody - perhaps she’s late, or he’s early, but it’s not your place to speculate anyway. “I’ll be right out with that.”

And so you make your way back inside - you have to stop at table 303 because their daughter, so small her legs barely hang off the seat she’s sitting in, has finished her Coke and wants another and you take their dish of risotto balls with you, practically licked clean (in your opinion, they’re the best appetizers on the menu, and you’ve tried just about everything.) 301 got up, leaving nearly half a plate of polpo sitting there and a full untouched bottle of wine and you can recall them specifically declining your request to take their plates earlier, claiming they were still picking at it and clearly they changed their mind - but Brianna’s rushing out to clean everything up before you tell her to, and that’s good of her. She’s new - it’s always good to see the new workers doing well. You’ll tell your manager the next time you see her, you reckon, though you hope it’s not too soon. And then 306 waves you down, seconds away from screaming for you to notice them because the man wants some red pepper flakes to sprinkle onto his pizza and it all stacks up in your mind, but you just smile and nod and turn to rush inside before anyone else can flag you down.

You don’t notice Harry’s eyes on you, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

One Coke and one dish of red pepper flakes later and you’re returning to Harry’s table, resting his drink on his coaster. It’s barely been two minutes since he last requested the water and his initial look of hope and excitement hasn’t faded, even when his eyes flicker down to his phone as though to check for a notification when he thanks you for the water.

Oh, well. Dates are late all the time, and you don’t have time to ponder on it as 304 noisily stacks their plates on top of each other, and you swoop over to grab them before taking them inside. No, it certainly isn’t your place to wonder about the status of his date because you know that you’ve been late to dates too many times than you should’ve, what with classes and work and everything else you have to do in life. You barely have time to date anymore - when you’re not studying so late you can barely keep your eyes open you’re picking up shifts, working your ass off for a paycheck that goes straight to your landlord. You hardly even hang out with your friends anymore and you’re not sure if it’s a healthy sacrifice, giving up your friends to work and study and get far less sleep than the average 22 year old but you don’t quite have a choice, do you?

Maybe his date is in the same situation - you can’t fault her for it. It certainly makes her more relatable to you.

It’s been fifteen minutes and Harry still sits on his own, nails tapping against his phone screen, turning his head to glance up and down the sidewalk like you had before but there’s no one there to join him. Part of you feels bad as you rest a plate of mozzarella agnolotti in front of the two men at 302 and they dig into it like fucking heathens who haven’t eaten in months, and when you tell them to enjoy they call out thank you with their mouths full, bits of food flying onto the table, and you feel bad for when one of the hostesses has to clean it later.

It’s times like this that you’re thankful to be a waitress and not a host. Those times are few and far between, but they still come.

303 got their entrees and 304 has their check and you don’t have an excuse not to stop back at Harry’s table, even if feeling his eyes on you has your stomach turning and your face heating. Hopefully he can’t notice (and you have gotten fairly skilled at hiding your emotions with a wide smile that’s just about as fake as they come) and your prayers seem to answer themselves when you walk to his table, ducking beneath the umbrella that hangs above the two-top and meeting his eyes.

“You want a refill on that water?” You ask, motioning with a nod down towards his half-empty glass. It’s certainly not low enough to warrant bringing out the water pitcher but you’ll deal with the hassle - going table to table asking if they need refills and all the other shit you have to do because it seems discriminatory when you only offer it to one table.

He looks up at his glass, tilting his head and screwing up his eyes as though he really needs time to decide whether he needs more water before shaking his head, curls flopping in front of his face as he pulls his glass closer to him. “S’alright.”

“Is your date running late?” And the second the words are out of your mouth you want to smack yourself - you know it’s unprofessional to comment like that especially when it’s that fucking obvious that you’re right. You may as well have asked him if the sky is blue, or if the time really is 6:15. Irrefutable facts are embarrassing to state aloud, especially when it would get you a stern talking to if your manager were to overhear.

But Harry doesn’t seem bothered by it, nor does he seem fazed by your sudden expression like you’d just bit into a lemon. In fact, he takes the comment in stride, resting his palms on the tabletop as he squints up at you - the sun shines behind you and you’re sure it’s in his eyes, and the fact that he took the sunny seat just adds another reason to consider him perfect. “Yeah, she is,” he confesses, twiddling with his rings again, and it’s nearly impossible not to drop your gaze to his fingers and watch him go. “But - y’know - she’s a nurse, an’ all that. Probably just had t’work late an’ forgot t’text. S’alright.”

You’re not sure what to say to that and for a second you stand there in silence as Harry taps his phone, surely checking to see if he’d received a text that hadn’t lit up his phone with the notification but there’s nothing except for the lockscreen - a blurry shot of a black and white cat, face close to the camera and tongue sticking out just so. Instead you clear your throat before saying, “I’ll go grab you some olives.”

“Olives?”

“Yeah - we give everyone assorted olives.” And suddenly, it sounds stupid, like giving your customers olives is something embarrassing when, in fact, it’s customary, but Harry’s looking at you with a certain curiosity, eyes bemused as if you’re entertaining him. “They’re actually quite good. I’m sure you’d like them.”

(In truth, you tried the olives once and had hated them, but you tell your customers that every single thing your restaurant offers is your favourite and the olives are no exception.)

“Oh.” Harry shrugs, then, leaning back in his seat as you duck back out from under his umbrella. “Well, if y’say so, m’sure I’ll like ‘em.”

You smile in agreement and there’s nothing left to add so you head towards the door, wiping your palms on your apron the second you’re inside. You’re sure you’ve had that exact conversation about olives of all things with ten other customers since you’ve worked here but it feels so different with him and it nearly scares you. There’s no reason you should feel so conflicted about a patron on a date who you’ve never met nor seen before but you suppose some things truly are unexplainable.

306 is ready for their check and as you grab a ramekin full of assorted olives you call to ask Brianna to print it out - there’s nobody at the door, anyway, and you need to find an empty dish for the olives, anyway. When you’ve got that and stashed the check in your apron you head back out and Harry’s sitting craning his neck glancing down the sidewalk and you hope, for his sake, that he’s right and she just got caught up at work. (And, for your own very selfish sake, you hope she doesn’t come.)

“I’ve got some olives for you,” you tell him, resting the two ramekins on the table in front of him and he glances down at them with an air of disgust that you most certainly relate to, and your face nearly splits open in a grin. “Well, they’re complimentary, anyway, so if you don’t like them, it’s not too big of a deal.”

“They look divine,” he says, and you know he’s lying but it still makes you smile. “I’ll tell y’how they are.”

“I’ll be waiting,” and that sounds like such a schoolgirl crush response and your face briefly tightens in a cringe before you walk off to 306, pulling their check out and depositing it on their table. None of them even drank their waters that they requested - assholes.

Holy shit.

You’re really feeling for Harry, now. There’s a new young couple sitting at 301 (certainly not on a first date, you’ll add), holding hands across the table and giggling loudly and they don’t break eye contact even when they place their wine order, and when your eyes flicker over to where Harry’s sitting he’s watching them with an expression that looks just a little like envy. The men at 302 lean over and share a kiss over their pasta and you wish it were socially acceptable to ask every single couple not to fucking look at each other until his date arrives because you can tell it’s killing him - and suddenly, you’re wishing you hadn’t manifested his date not showing up. You’d rather feel the slight tinge of jealousy at watching him woo a girl than feel your stomach turn with every minute that passes without someone taking a seat across from him.

You can practically see the hope leaving his body as a half hour goes by since he’d arrived and he’s still sitting alone, tapping his nails against the condensation that had formed against his glass of water, feet tapping the sidewalk beneath him. The olives sit untouched in their ramekin except for one lonely green out that sits, half eaten, in the empty one you’d given him and after you’ve finished grating parmesan cheese over 301’s calamari and bruschetta, you wrap the cheese back up in its napkin before making your way over to him, ducking beneath the umbrella and sending him a smile that he reciprocates, albeit smaller than it had been before.

“Do you want to put in an appetizer to be here when she arrives?” you ask, pulling your pad and pen out of your apron and watching as he glances down at the menu he clutches in his hands. You know what the answer’s going to be before you’ve even asked the question but it’s unbearable watching him sit doing nothing, and you’re sure he’s hungry. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to eat before a date though you’re not totally positive what kind of guy would - anyway, it’s easy realize he’s yearning for food by the way he’d been sucking on his straw just moments before when you’d been taking 301’s appetizer order, even though all that’s left in his glass are a few measly ice cubes.

“S’fine,” he insists. “I don’t want t’order somethin’ and then have her not like it - y’know?” And he trails his finger along the appetizer section of the menu as if to showcase the amount of options, chest rising and falling in a sigh. You nod, giving him a tight lipped smile as you shut your notepad and slide it and your pen into your apron, smoothing your palms over the front of it again.

“Yeah, I know.”

Then he pushes the olives away from him, ramekins sliding against the tabletop and you grin as you look down at them before glancing back up at him, raising your eyebrows with mock surprise. “I guess you didn’t like the olives, then.”

Harry shakes his head, bringing a hand up to wipe his hair out of his eyes and you almost want to recommend that he put his hair in a ponytail (it seems to get in the way of a lot of stuff for him) but, truthfully, you love seeing his hair down. It looks so soft and luscious and you’re sure it smells spectacular, though you’ll never truly know. “I hated them,” he confesses, and you miss the way his lips turn into a smile as you giggle, sticking the full ramekin into the empty one to make it easier to carry. “D’you seriously like ‘em? They’re horrid.”

You’re supposed to say yes, but you can’t lie to him - not when he’s already having a rough night. “I don’t like them, either,” you agree, scrunching your nose as you look down at the variously coloured olives in your hands. “But, according to my manager, I love everything at this restaurant.”

He laughs at that - a genuine one, too, tossing his head back so his hair falls off his shoulders and you can’t stop yourself from laughing along with him. He’s contagious in every sense of the word and you’ve never met anyone like that - you’re smiling with him and feeling your heart break for him all at the same time and you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced it before. “Well, s’good t’know,” Harry says when he’s stopped laughing, swirling his straw around his glass so the ice cubes clink together. “I’ll take your advice wit’ a grain f’salt, shouldn’t I.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” you insist. “You’re special.” Your tone is teasing and to anyone listening in it’s clearly a joke but you gnaw on your tongue after the words are out anyway - he just smiles down at the table, scratching the surface with his nails.

“M’glad.” And your eyes scan the rest of your tables on instinct - 306 is up and there’s a stack of plates at 303 that you need to bring inside, but if it were up to you, you’d spend the rest of your day ducked into Harry’s umbrella, listening to him speak. But - well - you’re not being paid to talk to a pretty boy, most unfortunately, and you step out from under his covering to check out your other tables when - “Wait!”

You turn back around and Harry’s leaning back, holding his hand over his eyes to look at you and you take a step back over to him, bending down ever so slightly so you can hear him over the shitty music your boss insists on playing too loud to your outdoor guests. “Could I have a coke, please?” he questions, and you nod. “Thanks.”

Your other tables can wait - you scurry back inside, heading to the service station because you’d rather die than make him wait an extra second longer for his coke. Lauren - the other waitress on duty tonight - stands unwrapping a cheesecake to prepare for one of her tables and she looks at you with an arched eyebrow. “Who were you talking to?”

You shrug and you hope it isn’t painfully clear how your heartbeat thumps against your chest like a damn drum. “Just the guy at 305.”

“Oh.” Lauren pauses where she’s mixing the tupperware container of homemade whip cream to place on the cheesecake as you fill your glass with ice. “What’s his deal?”

“I think he’s being stood up,” you tell her.

Your suspicion is confirmed the next time you drop by Harry’s table, when he’s chugged his entire Coke and the rest of his water and he simply sits there, scrolling on his phone, and it’s like you can see how his battery has drained.

“Hey,” you call, voice soft as though you’re talking to a child, but you need to assess how upset he is about the situation before speaking in any other manner. You’d made the mistake before, started chatting too cheerfully to a lady being stood up and she’d shouted at you, called you a wench and a bastard and all other sorts of names you couldn’t recall before storming out, leaving a $20 for her three glasses of wine.

It’s always better to be safe than sorry.

“Has she texted you?” you ask, motioning down towards his phone. It’s certainly not allowed to speak to customers in such a casual manner about things other than the menu and whether they’d like to split the check but nobody’s around to reprimand you for bending the rules a bit - why not?

He shakes his head - it’s what you’d expected but your heart still aches for him and you wish you could reach out, perhaps give him a hug if he’d want it or listen to him rant about the situation. Anything to make him feel better. “S’okay,” he insists, and to his defense he can play the part well. Doesn’t seem entirely too torn up about it and he’s looking at you like you’re a friend rather than his waitress and it makes you feel comfortable. “But - f’you don’t mind - can I order an appetizer now?” You smile, already fishing for your notepad and your pen (a sparkly black one, just for the sake of being fun.) You’re glad he’s getting something and if his date happens to show up, she’d ought to eat whatever he chooses simply as an apology for being over a goddamn hour late. “Sure.”

“What’s your favorite?”

The question takes you by surprise but you regain composure quickly, feeling your face and neck heat up because Harry’s staring at you as though you’re some sort of God - like you hold the answer to the meaning of life instead of the best thing on the menu and it makes you feel good. Appreciated. “I love the risotto balls,” you admit, shifting to stand next to him so you can trace your finger along the menu in his hands, pointing to the very first appetizer listed on the page. “And the shrimp and broccoli rabe is delicious.”

“I hope you’re not lying t’me.”

“I told you,” you begin, meeting his small smile with a wider one of your own and it achieves its desired effect - his spreads wider, and you wonder if he thinks that you’re as contagious as you consider him to be. “I’ll never lie to you.”

“And why’s that?”

He’s full of questions. “Because you’re a nice customer.” It’s sort of the truth, though you think you’d scare him away if you told him the full entire truth is that he’s the most gorgeous man you’ve laid eyes on in your life. “When some customers are assholes, I tell them to get the vongole - it’s horrible.”

He raises his eyebrows at that with another grin, resting his menu down on the table and gazing up at you with his full attention. “Well, I trust you. I’ll get the risotto balls, in tha’ case. An’ then - whenever she gets here, I’ll get something else.”

You murmur sounds good and you don’t have to write it down in your notepad to remember it. You’d nearly gotten carried away with the conversation, nearly forgotten that he’s being fucking stood up and probably doesn’t want you to flirt with him like an idiot because you’re sure acting like one. God, no other waitresses act like this with their customers and you really, truly never have before - yet it’s something about him. You can’t fucking help yourself.

You take his Coke to refill it - he doesn’t ask and you won’t charge him for it. He simply deserves it, and you think that’s reason enough to bring the glass back inside, fill it to the top with soda and deliver it back on top of his coaster the next time you go outside to make your rounds. Harry’s appreciative, naturally, and has no reason to question why you gave him another drink to begin with. For all he knows, your restaurant has free refills, and you’ll let him think that. There’s no reason to make him pay for another drink - he’s having a bad enough day already - even though, when you’d glanced down at the watch adorning his wrist as you’d given him his drink and seen that it’s Gucci.

No amount of money can buy a first date, you suppose, and you hate yourself for thinking it. You’d give him a first date. A million, in fact. And it’ll never happen but you can certainly dream, and you hope it doesn’t show in your eyes as the men at 302 order a panna cotta and cheesecake for dessert - 301 is digging into their pizza, looking so hopelessly in love with each other, and you catch Harry looking at them again.

The risotto balls are ready for him when you’ve delivered the desserts to 302, and you grab the plate and a block of parmesan and head right out to him. His eyes are on you the moment you step out the door, gaze looking ravenous and he’s most certainly just excited for his appetizer but you still let his watchful eye make your stomach turn.

No parmesan cheese for him - well, that’s fine. You tuck the block under your arm and tell him to enjoy, and he tells you he most certainly will before digging in and it only confirms your suspicion that he was fucking starving. In fact, by the time you’ve finished chatting to 304 about how delicious their gamberetti pizza was, one of the balls on the plate is gone and he’s staring at the second one like a man dying of hunger, but he doesn’t touch it. Surely waiting for his date to arrive to feast on it while he can talk about how nervous he was that she wasn’t going to show up that he was even entertaining the flirtatious waitress.

Gentleman.

The next twenty minutes are a blur - 304 is up and two tables in Lauren’s section are, too, and you don’t have much else to do so you help Brianna clear and wipe and set them all. By the time you’ve finished and returned the hostess’s grateful smile 302 wants more drinks and a chocolate mousse to split, and you pick up their empty panna cotta and cheesecake dishes and rush them back inside. 301 decides they want their check and they look like they’ve gotten into some sort or argument and you’re almost glad - though you’re sure they’ll be too angry to leave a good tip, you’ll take it if it means it may make Harry feel a bit better about being alone.

It’s 8:15 PM the next time you risk a glance at your phone. Only forty five minutes until you close and there haven’t been any new table sat for the better half of twenty minutes and you pray it stays that way - or, at the very least, they go to Lauren’s section instead of yours. Brianna is clearing 301 (they got up and left in a hurry and, as you’d expected, your tip is a few measly dollars) and your other tables have no need for your assistance yet so you make a beeline to Harry’s table the second you get outside and he’s watching you, sad smile toying at the corner of his lips.

“How were the risotto balls?” you inquire, drumming your fingers against his table. It’s a silly question because anyone with eyes can see how he’d gobbled half of the appetizer up, the other still untouched in their bowl of sauce, ricotta lazily tossed on top of it. You’re sure it’s cold now but you don’t quite mind them when they’re chilly - may even taste better than having them sizzling hot. “Looks like you liked them.”

He nods, pushing the plate away from him as though he can’t stand to be near it. “It’s really good,” Harry tells you and pats himself firmly on the stomach twice to prove it. It’s a silly motion that brings a smile to your lips anyway and you really, truly can’t help it. “M’gonna save the other one f’when she gets here.”

Hope is a good thing to have, you decide, and he’s clearly still holding onto it. You’d never been stood up before but you’re sure you’d have given up on the idea of a first date long before he had and you applaud him internally for that - he’s patient and kind and understanding, you decide. Much more tolerant than anyone else you know would be in this sort of situation and it only adds to the growing desire you have for him, but you push it down - for the sake of professionalism. “Well, that’s nice,” you tell him and he smiles, the expression tight and complimentary. “Can I get you anything else?”

“M’good,” Harry says, “but - can y’show me where the bathroom is inside?” He motions with one swirling finger to the empty glasses in front of him and his grin looks rather embarrassed when he looks back up to you. “Think I drank m’drinks a bit too fast.”

You laugh out loud at that and if he notices that your giggling goes on for just a beat longer than appropriate, he doesn’t acknowledge it and wow, don’t you feel like a damn schoolgirl with a crush. Laughing at his joke-that-wasn’t-a-joke and feeling your face burn up when you look at him and having your stomach turn when he stands up to follow you into the restaurant and holy hell, he’s tall. You feel embarrassed walking in with him behind you because you’re not sure what he’s looking at, and what if you have a stain on your jeans? Or the back of your shirt? He’s dressed so nice and your face is fucking flaming and you avoid eye contact with Lauren as you point him towards the restroom.

“Thanks, love,” he says, voice thick and heavy as he maneuvers through the indoor tables to get to the restroom and you send him off with a small wave - just a jerk of your hand - and the second he’s out of sight you wipe your palms on your apron again.

Lauren’s making a cappuccino and so you flock over to her, naturally. You can tell she just redid her ponytail because it sits higher on her head and you think you should do that too, so you pull your black scrunchie out of your hair and work on assembling it into a better ponytail.

“That’s the guy from 305, isn’t it?” she questions.

“The guy I took to the bathroom?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh - yeah.” You swallow, bending down to glance into the metal of the espresso machine to see your blurred reflection, making sure your ponytail is as smooth as possible before tying it up. “Yeah, that’s him. He’s nice.”

She hums softly, grabbing a small spoon and stirring the coffee once then twice before resting it inside the cup, already reaching for another cup to begin another. “Are you sure he’s being stood up?”

You scrunch up your nose, leaning back against the counter and tilting your head in slight confusion. “I’m pretty positive - he’s been here for, like, an hour and 15 minutes waiting for a girl and he’s still hopeful that she’s going to come.” And then you sigh, the noise overly dramatic and your coworker rolls her eyes. “Why?”

“He was checking you out, babe.”

You raise your eyebrows, head turning to the side so fast you swear you nearly get whiplash as you stare at Lauren. She simply stands, making her cappuccino as if she hadn’t just blew you away with her observation and you’re sure it meant nothing but it still has your heart thumping violently against your chest and you exhale. “No, he wasn’t.”

��Girl, I was watching - he was. His eyes never left your ass. He almost ran into the door, too.”

“You’re lying.” “Why would I lie? He’s cute, isn’t he? Aren’t you happy?”

“Laur, he’s being stood up. I know he is. He’s not focusing on my ass - he’s probably crying in the bathroom right now.”

She laughs at that, hooking her finger in the handles of the two cappuccinos, steam billowing from both of them like a fire. “Well, maybe he is being stood up, but - I swear to god - he’s into you.” And then she’s walking back down the aisle between tables to reach the front of the restaurant, headed out the door without another glance as if she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you and you stare after her, mouth agape and palms sweating and you wipe them on your apron once more.

Harry returns to his seat and, for a while, you don’t check on him.

He seems fine, anyway. Decently enough. Sure, his drinks are still empty in front of him and he leaves that one risotto ball alone and, every so often, he glances up and down the sidewalk before bringing his gaze back down to his phone but it doesn’t quite look like he needs anything.

Anyway, it’s 8:30. Even if she shows up they wouldn’t be able to stay very long and, no matter what, he deserves a fulfilling first date. Maybe she did get caught at work and, when he leaves, they’ll laugh about it. Reschedule it for a different day where he picks her up from her house, and then who knows? Maybe they’ll go ice skating or see a movie. And this entire situation will be something they’ll laugh out and forget and they’ll probably get fucking married, with your luck.

You’d be happy for him, of course. And even though you’ll likely never speak to him again after he leaves for the night, you do want the best for him, though you think the best for him would be you and not some girl who stood him up with no text.

303 is gone after spending entirely too long sitting and chatting and you wave them off with a goodbye and a bright smile, grabbing their check just as Brianna runs out to begin clearing it off. Full glasses of water are dumped into the plants and you help her bring them inside before going to deposit the check - it’s a nice tip and you’re thankful. They’d been a kind enough table but sometimes those are the type to screw you over with the tip and you’re beyond glad they hadn’t - you’ve had a strange enough night without the added weight of no tip.

You head back outside with 302’s check and drop it at their table, returning their grateful smile with one of your own. There’s nowhere else to go or visit besides 305 and so you head over to him, ducking underneath his umbrella for what seems like the thousandth time that day and it’s then that you can see his face, ever so slightly crestfallen as he stares at his phone and your heart just about drops into your ass, and without a second thought you pull out the empty seat across from him and sit.

“What’s wrong?” you ask and you’re fairly certain you already know, but there’s no shame in inquiring further - his phone is clutched in his hand and he looks up at you before clearing his throat and that’s enough confirmation for you.

“She’s out wit’ her friends - they’re at a bar.” And, as if to prove it to you, he slides his phone across the table to you and you crane your neck to glance down at the screen and it’s an Instagram story - a boomerang of four girls clinking their drinks together, and you scrunch your nose. “She’s the one on the right.”

The one on the right is decently pretty - blonde hair straightened and falling down her back, drink spilling over the edges of her glass when she clicks it too enthusiastically with her friends. Her dress is tight and sparkly and nearly overpowers the entire story and you can already make your mind up about how you feel about her and, needless to say, it isn’t good.

“Oh.” You watch the boomerang for another couple of seconds before pushing his phone back over to him and he gives you a tight lipped grin. “I’m sorry, Harry. That really sucks.”

“S’alright.” He shrugs and you can tell it isn’t alright but you don’t say anything else until he adds, “I wasn’t tha’ into her, anyway. M’friend wanted to set us up. I guess she wasn’t really into it but - I wasn’t either. S’all fair.”

Your heart hurts for him - she wasn’t into it but you know he was and before you can think to stop yourself you reach over, resting your hand over his and holy shit. You shouldn’t do that. He can lie and say he doesn’t mind but you know he does and you’re still his fucking waitress - you shouldn’t touch him like you’ve known him any longer than two hours. Just as you go to pull away with a frenzied apology he’s turning his hand around so your palms are pressed together and then he squeezes your hand with a soft sigh and you’re nearly paralyzed at the motion.

It can’t be more than a few seconds that you two sit like that, his hand tight around yours and you can hardly breathe, heart thumping in your chest before he says, “What time d’you close?”

“Uh -” you clear your throat just as he releases your hand and you withdraw it immediately - your hands are sweating and you press them on the table. “We close at 9, but - I only have one more table, and they’re about to leave … so …”

“What else d’you have t’do?”

“All my closing stuff,” you begin, sticking up your fingers as you list each one. “I need to roll silverware, get ice, put the glasses away, take the trash from the bathroom. And then I’ll probably get something to eat.”

Harry nods, gazing almost wistfully into the night as though he’s some sort of philosopher and you lean in, waiting to hear whatever he has to say next - “Could y’eat with me when y’get your food? If y’don’t mind.” And it takes you a moment to react as he adds, “S’just - you’re nice t’talk to, an’ all tha’. But y’don’t have to.”

You swallow thickly, already feeling your stomach flipping and your knee jiggling and you nod - first a quick jerk of your head, up and down, and then faster. 302 is arranging their stuff to leave, grabbing their boxes and shoving their credit cards into their pockets and you wish you could tell them to get the hell out because you can’t start closing until they leave and now you really have a motivation to leave. “Yeah. That - that sounds good.”

It sounds more than good, in fact, and you don’t even care if you’re some sort of rebound to him in this moment - you’ll take it. You’ll eat your dinner with him and then whatever comes after - you don’t care. You just want tonight, or, at the very least, right now, and anything after that is simply a bonus and you’ll deal with it later because he wants to eat with you. He wants to hang out with you. He likes you, and maybe even in that way, too.

You’re standing up uncomfortably fast, nearly tripping over the seat you’d inhabited as you rub your palms together. “Well - um. My other table is getting ready to leave, so I’m gonna - gonna start doing my stuff.”

“Sounds good,” and he’s so casual with it that it sends heat blazing up your cheeks, and you turn to head back inside with a newly found skip in your step that’s too full of joy to be embarrassing.

Brianna’s already begun the silverware when you get inside - with only 2 tables left, there’s no need for her to stay, but you tell her that you’ll roll if she does the other closing duties and she accepts because she’s horrific at rolling silverware. They’re always loose and lumpy and too big or too small and none of you want to tell her because it’s easier to just make pretend like it’s your favorite closing duty to do - well, whatever. She’s gone downstairs to get a bucket of ice before she can ponder on your insistence and you settle in your seat, grabbing a knife and two forks and resting them in the middle of your linen to begin to roll.

You have the motion down nearly to an instinct and it gives you time to glance outside. Through the windows you can see just the side profile of Harry’s face, only slightly illuminated by his phone screen as his lips wrap around his straw, surely sucking on the dissolved ice cubes in one of his glasses and it makes your heart beat faster in your chest - you nearly drop a fork when you go to begin a new roll.

Your pasta is ready entirely too soon.

You’re finished rolling silverware and the ice is filled and the bathrooms are stocked and clean but you hadn’t emotionally prepared yourself enough to eat with him. But your fettuccine sits, steaming on the counter ready for you to pick up and you stab the ticket once you’ve confirmed it’s yours, grabbing the burning hot plate with your one hand and grabbing a spoon with the other.

You can still see Harry’s side profile when you peer out the window and he’s glancing around, eyes darting from the sidewalk to the door as though he’s waiting for you and you know you can’t keep him alone for another second, so you inhale a deep sigh and walk out the door, pasta in hand.

He just about perks up when he sees you, back straightening and dropping his phone onto the table. You swear he’s about to get up and pull the chair out for you, too, but you beat him to it - duck underneath the umbrella and rest your plate on the table, slipping into your chair with ease and a soft cough into your fist.

(You’re not sick - not in the slightest. It just alleviates your stress, you suppose. Eliminates some awkward silence.)

“Hey,” Harry says, elbows resting on the table so he can look at you in full and you can already feel your body flaming as you pick up your spoon, sifting it through the thick pasta on your plate. Alfredo - God, it’s your favorite. You’ve been trying to branch out and try more things on the menu but it always takes you back to your damn fettuccine alfredo. “I hope this isn’t weird.”

“It’s not weird,” you insist, collecting a spoonful of pasta and bringing it to your mouth. The smell is intoxicating and you pause when the spoon is just an inch from your mouth. “I’m sure you had a rough night.”

He shrugs, leaning back in his seat as you take a bite, chewing slowly and thoughtfully as though you’re pondering something important. “It wasn’t too rough,” he tells you, and you raise your eyebrows. “It would’ve been bad - but you helped.”

“Really?”

“Sure y’did.” You take another spoonful of fettuccine as he continues. “It sucks t’be stood up, but you were nice.”

“I could tell you were upset.”

“An’ you couldn’t tell you were makin’ it better?”

You think for a moment - think back on the countless interactions you’d had with the near-stranger sitting across from you, pulling the plate with one lone risotto ball over to him - and then shake your head. “I just thought you were being sweet.”

He laughs, reaching for his abandoned fork resting on the side of the plate and cutting in to the second risotto ball - you can tell how much he’d been longing to eat it simply from the expression on his face when he takes the first bite - with a shrug. “Sure I was,” and you laugh at that, ripping the piece of bread on the side of your plate and half and dipping it in the sauce, “but you must’ve realized I like you - didn’t you?”

“Well, I did think it was curious that you held my hand.”

“Y’did it first.”

“Well, the technicalities don’t matter.”

It brings a grin to your face to hear Harry laugh at you, curls flopping in his face, crossing his arms over his chest as he chews on a particularly large bite of his risotto ball. Your pasta is already nearly gone (you’d vastly underestimated how hungry you were) and you scrape the sides of the plate with your bread, collecting all of the excess sauce on the dough. “Was feeling a bit guilty,” you confess, drumming your fingertips on the tabletop, and he tilts his head at you, “‘cause I was starting to feel a bit thankful you got stood up.”

For a moment you wonder if you’d said the wrong thing - if you’ve ruined this entire thing before it’s even started, because it’s an uncomfortably real risk -, but then he’s reaching out to rest his hand overtop of yours and your body overflows with relief. “I agree,” he murmurs, squeezing your hand, and you swallow. “Y’had me prayin’ she wasn’t going to show up.”

You smile, looking down at the table and your empty plate and his half eaten risotto ball that he’s already taking another bite of and it all seems so surreal - like you’re going to wake up in your bed an hour before your shift starts, cursing yourself out for creating such an immersive reality - but nothing about his touch on yours is fake. It’s all so spectacular - so real - and you exhale. “We’re closing in 5 minutes,” you tell him, and his eyebrows scrunch together like he’s seen something he regrets. “Reckon we should take this someplace else?” “Someplace else?”

Your stomach flips and you wonder for what feels like the millionth time this evening if you’d made a mistake - read him wrong - took things too far. It’s an unfortunate habit you have and you certainly wouldn’t be shocked if you’ve put your foot in it this early into the relationship - you’ll regret it, but you regret a lot of things. In a couple of weeks, you’ll forget about it, won’t you? You’ve done it before. But you simply shrug, motioning with your free hand to the empty tables among you both. “I live - um - a couple blocks up the road. If you want to come over. And - it’s fine if you don’t - just putting it out there.”

Harry stares at you, expression nearly blank, for a beat too long and you shift in your seat - but then there’s a smile stretching across his face, and he pushes his half-eaten risotto ball in towards the center of the table. “That sounds perfect,” he tells you, and your heart thumps in your chest once more.

For the record, you hadn’t anticipated having anyone over to your apartment tonight, and it shows.

There’s dirty dishes from the previous two days piled in the sink, shoes strewn all over the entryway and when you peer your head into the sitting room, your pajamas are strewn over the couch next the wine stain you’d spent hours trying to scrub out. Your face burns as you turn the lights on and Harry steps inside, head turning left and right as he examines your living space and you wish you’d cleaned up after yourself before you left for work - you’ve been meaning to do the dishes - why hadn’t you done them?

“It’s - um - not much,” you begin, shutting and locking the door firmly behind you and motioning with your arms to the entirety of your apartment. “And it’s kind of dirty. I just didn’t expect anyone to come here, or I would’ve fixed it up a bit.”

He smiles, peering at the photos adorning your walls. “Don’ worry ‘bout it,” he insists, bringing his finger up to trail along the high school graduation photo you’d taken with all of your friends until he spots you, smack in the middle, holding up your diploma with a wide grin - you don’t speak to half of the people in that photo anymore, but you love it. Love reminiscing on a time before college and work and rent, where you could just relax with your friends. “Y’look awfully pretty in this photo.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, clasping your hands behind your back as you watch Harry examine each photo. None of them are interesting enough to warrant his level of attention and you’re sure he’s simply trying to be polite but you still appreciate it - it’s nice to imagine that he has that much interest in a photo your mother had taken of you and your dog on a hike. “Do you want me to - to pour some wine or something?”

“That’s alright,” he says, turning around to face you and you glance up at him with a soft smile as he rests his hand on your shoulder, fingertips trailing up and down your arm and sending goosebumps popping up over your skin. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt like this about a boy and it’s making you fucking crazy, torn between wanting to wrap your arms around him or have him bend you over the counter - you can’t quite decide.

“Alright.” You roll on the balls of your feet as Harry steps into your kitchen, leaning against the counter with an air of casual arrogance and adoration as he stares down at you. You pad into the kitchen behind him and press your palms to the countertop, lifting yourself up to sit beside him, and you hum softly. “Well - we could talk, then.”

“Y’wanna talk?”

“I wanna do whatever you wanna do,” you confess, and it’s the truth.

He hums at that, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth and you watch him, breath caught in your throat, as he pushes himself from the counter, doing nearly a full spin before landing directly in front of you and your knees part to allow him in between them like an instinct - your face heats as he pushes himself closer to you, thighs closing around his waist. “Y’seem nervous,” he says, palms pressing to the counter on either side of your body and you inhale a shaky breath, shaking your head.

“I’m not nervous,” you tell him, even if it’s a little white lie. “I just haven’t done this in a while -” and that isn’t a lie in the slightest.

“Ah,” and then Harry nods like some sort of therapist, hands already dropping to your waist, fingertips scratching at zipper of your jeans as if testing the waters. “An’ you’re sure y’want this?”

“I’m positive - please, Harry, I really want this. Wanted this from - from the second I saw you.”

It’s all the approval he needs, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans with ease and you loop your arms around his neck, using him as leverage to lift your hips up and he pulls your jeans off and down your thighs, leaving them bunched up by your knees. The next step is your panties, so damp you can tell he feels it through the fabric when he pressed his fingers against you and your hips jerk into his hands, dropping your head into his shoulder as he exhales.

“I’ll go slow,” he tells you, voice low and raspy and you’re not sure if he’s trying to make it sound like that or if it just naturally happens - well, you can’t decide which one is hotter, truthfully. “Jus’ wanna make y’feel good, love.”

“Mhm,” you nod, gnawing on your bottom lip as Harry hooks two fingers in the crotch part of your panties, pulling them to the side and the cold air of your apartment hits your cunt in a way that has your breathing picking up and he pauses, fingers so dangerously close to where you need them. You know he’s going to ask if you’re okay - if you want him to stop - and you don’t, not by a fucking long shot, and you push your hips into his hand as way of answering his unasked question.

Harry takes the hint, of course. He isn’t stupid.

Two fingers circle your clit, spreading your moisture along the sensitive nub like he’s been wanting to do it all fucking night - there’s some sort of desperation to his movements that has your legs tightening around him, head burying further into his shoulder, and his free arm hooks around one of your thighs, hoisting it further up his waist. His breathing is hot against your head as his digits slide up and down your folds and you’re not sure if he’s attempting to tease you or not but, no matter, it’s working. You’re ready to get on your knees and beg for him if you need to, but just as the thought crosses your mind, his fingers dip down to slide in between your folds.

A soft moan emits from your throat as his hand smooths up and down your thigh, fingers dipping just barely into your cunt before pulling out - and he does it a few times, giving you a bit of what you want and then tearing it away and you whine, thrusting your hips into his hands and Harry presses a kiss to the side of your head before sliding his fingers inside of you. Two to start, just to ease you in, pushing them in slow and steady until you can feel his cool rings pressed against your pussy and you throw your head back with a moan.

He pauses, lip still between his teeth as he stares at you, your chest heaving beneath him and body fucking quivering in his gasp. “Tell me how it feels,” he breathes, tongue darting out to lick at his lips, and you swallow your desperate whine for him to move.

“Feels so good,” you murmur, smoothing your hands up and down his neck as he stares at you as though daring you to break his gaze. “Please, Har -”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me - with your fingers, Har, please - make me feel so good -” and just to top off your request you lean in, crashing your lips so violently against his that your teeth clash and tongues collide, and you can taste everything you’d served him that evening and holy hell it tastes delicious. Perhaps it’s just him, dropping your thigh against the table so he can grab onto the back of your neck and keep your face attached to his, lips parted and wild and dominant as he pulls his fingers out and pushes them back in with a newfound vigor -

The levee breaks, then, with your lips mashed together, and you’re more than thankful for it.

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles drabble #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #loll i actually like this a lot #the smut is rlly rushed bc i didnt want to have any to begin with but i added it in #soz!

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sabababa · 3 years

Note

How easy is it to make the BNHA boys blush? Are they stone cold on the outside but internally screaming or are they as red as a tomato and a babbling mess? Also I hope you don’t mind making it so Reader is like the Dom in the relationship

How you make them blush headcanons

Hawks, Hitoshi Shinso, Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Mirio Togata, Shota Aizawa, Tamaki Amajiki x GenderNeutral!Reader

Author’s Note: I tried to make the reader come off as a dom in these, so I hope it shows. I also imagine reader being tall since I’m like 5��11″ and there’s hardly any tall reader stuff, so some of the stuff in these could be preserved from a tall person POV This is also the first time I’ve written for Shinso and Tamaki so I hope I represented them well!

Warnings: Some slight spice but not really, slight Dom!reader

Masterlist | Request Rules

(Art belongs to me, please do not repost)

Hawks

People like to imagine Hawks as a very suave guy, but that’s not the case

Of course, he has a public appearance to keep up

But oh boy, when he meets someone he actually likes he gets tongue tied

So when you two started dating it was fairly easy to get him to blush, but not so much it’d make his face red

Simple domestic acts were enough to dust his cheeks, or even some compliments

He never received genuine attention like that so he was unsure of how to react

He started to get used to it though, he may not blush anymore, but he still likes it

Now, a new thing you discovered a couple months into the relationship is that he has bird-like behaviors

And sometimes you like to take advantage of it

He likes to groom you by brushing your hair or trimming your nails, he’s actually very good at mani-pedis

So you’ll return the favor by brushing his hair or trimming his nails and it causes him to be a blushy mess because his heart is pounding and he can’t believe you want to groom him

You’ll even take it a step farther by cleaning or fixing his feathers

It’s a big deal in the bird world when two birds groom each other, it means they’re very close

Another thing is that he likes to feed you parts of his food from his plate

Even if you’re both eating the same thing, he still likes to hold food up to your mouth for you to eat

And once again, you’ll do it right back at him

In the bird world, it would mean that you accepted him as your mate

It makes him blush as he bites the food off and enjoys the flavor

Even when you eat the same thing, he swears it tastes better when you feed it to him

All in all, he gets real blushy when you indulge in his birdy antics

(Art belongs to me, please do not repost)

Hitoshi Shinso

Hitoshi doesn’t really blush

Whenever you say a compliment to him he just rubs the back of his neck, looks down, and has a grin on his face

He loves it when you comment on things he feels other people don’t like about him

His unkempt hair, his baggy eyes, his terrible sleeping habit

He’s never cared what other people think, but hearing you speak so positively about those things makes his heart soar

“Oh my god, your bed head is the cutest thing on this planet!”

“Awh, did I wake you? You look so adorable rubbing your eyes!”

“You have the sexiest voice ever, I swear, can you just never stop talking to me, please?”

He loves when you talk about his voice

It’s what really enables his quirk, so the fact that you’re not intimidated by him talking and love hearing him talk is refreshing to him

But on the inside, when you compliment him

He’s screaming and doing back flips

They like my voice?!

They want me to keep talking to them?!

WHAT DO I DO?!?!?!

But on the outside he acts like his regular cool self

He also really loves when you display affection to him around others

You’re not afraid of being associated with him or what other people think and he just absolutely loves it

Sometimes kids in the hallways will give him nasty looks and he’ll give one back

But you just pull him close to your side and hold his arm while giving the kid an intimidating look

Since you’re in separate classes you walk with him to his first

Before you leave you always put a little kiss on his cheek as you guys stand near the doorway for his classmates to see

He smirks when he catches a few staring, but once again, he is absolutely going crazy inside his head

(Art belongs to me, please do not repost)

Izuku Midoriya

THIS BOY

THE ABSOLUTE BLUSHIEST

Any compliment or flirt you say to him will have him blushing

Sometimes you’ll comment on his strength

Or how cute he is when he mumbles

Or how adorable his face looks when he’s concentrated

He face goes red every time and it makes him cover his head with his arms

And you compliment how cute he looks when he’s blushing, every time

What he loves the most though is when you show him off

“Everybody stop what you’re doing and look how adorable Izu is!”

“Look at his cute chubby cheeks and pretty freckles! *squeals*”

Some of your friends find it funny, but the others just cringe or roll their eyes (actually just Bakugou)

He loves it when you talk about his strength and have him show it off as well

You ask him to pick you up and he’ll have you sit on his arm while he flexes

This man carried around a hulked up Allmight for training, picking you up is a piece of cake

“Look how strong my baby boy is!” You gush

His face is so red, but he’s lowkey enjoying the attention

A thing you like to do is have him sit in your lap while you wrap your arms around him to trap him against you

You’ll do this when you guys are in the lounge and it makes him blush

You like to pepper his cheek in kisses while he sits on you and it makes him giggle

When you’re in private, you’ll have him straddle you on the bed

And of course the blush never leaves his face as you feel his body

You leave kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his neck, even his collarbone if the collar of his shirt is deep enough (he’s bought a couple of v-necks for this occasion)

He loves it when you bring his hands up and kiss along his scars

You’re so slow and sensual about it, it makes his heart race and body heat up

And he wouldn’t trade that feeling for the world

(Art belongs to me, please do not repost)

Katsuki Bakugou

He won’t admit it, but he blushes

You would make him blush even before you two started dating

You were his biggest hype man- and still are

But whenever he would start roasting or chewing people out, you would be there in the background

“Yeah! Kick their ass, Bakugou!” You’d shout

He thought it was weird at first and brushed it off, but when he realized he started to like you it caused a small blush to pop up whenever you would cheer him on

And when you realized you started to like him you upped your game

Anytime you’d walk into a room with him in it you would say

“Where’s that handsome devil Bakugou?”

His face would be so red, but he looked so angry that everyone thought it was just from rage as he chewed you out for making a comment like that

Anytime you knew he was around and listening you would bring him up

“Damn, I have no idea how to make this. Maybe our resident hot chef Bakugou can make it?”

“Leave me alone or I’ll call the handsome devil Bakugou himself!”

“You really think you can beat pretty boy Bakugou?”

He won’t admit it, but he loves it when you call him your pretty boy

Especially after you two start dating

You’ll be sitting in the living area of the dorms with some friends playing some games

Bakugou wins and you congratulate him with a kiss on the cheek with

“That’s my pretty boy!”

He still blushes slightly but doesn’t get angry about it because after all, you’re dating, of course, you’re gonna compliment him

In private you’ll call him sexy if you want to tease him

But sometimes there are days where you just want to be affectionate and have him vulnerable beneath you

You’ll kiss him all over his face as his blush grows

You then compliment him when his face finally softens and shows a small smile

“You really are my pretty boy, Suki,”

(Art belongs to me, please do not repost)

Mirio Togata

Mirio is a boy who does blush, but not over the top and very rarely

You have to meet a special set of requirements if you want his blush to appear

And the way to do that is to compliment his body

Mirio is used to people talking about his body

I mean, with a quirk like his, he was constantly showing it off to everybody

He expected comments about it when it was shown

But when you two started dating you threw him for a loop

He was just casually talking to Nejire and Tamaki when you snuck up behind him and grabbed his pecs, giving them a squish

“Look at these big ol’ bara tiddies,” you said playfully as you groped him

Mirio was so stunned from the act that a blush appeared

He never expected it and Nejire laughed about the look on his face while Tamaki looked embarrassed for him

He eventually snapped back and let out a sheepish laugh, but he also sounded giddy because he lowkey liked you feeling him up

Another day he was doing some regular workouts with his friends

Once again he was talking to Nejire and Tamaki when you snuck up behind him

Instead this time you crawled under his legs and stuck your head between his thighs as you made him squish your cheeks

“This boy has thighs for days!” You said as you rubbed your hands up and down his thighs

Again, he was stunned and blushy

Nejire laughed and Tamaki hid his face

This other time happened when he was alone

You see, you had made such a habit of ogling him in front of others that he thought he was safe alone

Nope

He was in the dorm’s kitchen preparing a meal for himself when he saw you walking in

He greeted you with a big smile and offered to make you something

You came up behind him and smacked his ass and continued to squish it in your hand as you pressed your body against his, trapping him against the counter

“Maybe you could let me have a piece of that ass?”

Mirio.exe has stopped working

You laughed as you stood back and removed yourself from him to calm him down

His face was so red, he had no idea what to do

(Art belongs to me, please do not repost)

Shouta Aizawa

Aizawa THINKS he blushes, but doesn’t actually

He’ll pull his capture weapon up to cover his face more when you flirt with him

What makes him act this way is when you compliment his features or give some kind of sexy nickname to him

Aizawa thinks he’s an average looking man

He’s not insecure, he just honestly thinks that of himself

So sometimes you’ll come up to him and rub your face against his to feel his stubble scratch against your cheek

“Damn, I love your stubble, it’s so sexy!”

Cue him averting his eyes and covering his face with his scarf

Another thing you like to do is when you’re alone and lounging together on the couch

You’ll admire his features for a while before you give kisses all over his face

He’ll ask what that was for

“You’re just so handsome, Sho,” you say with a sweet smile

He’ll look away with a surprised grunt and cover his face with his hand

You like to tease him when he does that and tell him how cute he looks, which only makes it worse for him

Sometimes, out of the blue, you like to give him sexy nicknames

“How’s it going, stud?”

“Hey there, hot stuff!”

“Whatcha’ up to, sexy?”

You’ll even say stuff like that in front of his friends and co-workers, but you’re not seductive about it, just casual, so he doesn’t really get mad at you for it

But it does make him pull the scarf up

One of his favorite things you call him though is “hubby”

You’re not married yet, nor engaged, but it really makes his heart pound against his chest when you call him that, especially in front of strangers

“I guess I’ll have that. What do you want, hubby?”

“Awh, isn’t my hubby the best?”

He doesn’t mind that you refer to him as your “hubby”

He was planning on asking you soon anyway

(Art belongs to me, please do not repost)

Tamaki Amajiki

This boy blushes all the time when he’s around you

Even before you dated, of course

Just a simple “hello” and “how are you?” would make him blush and hide his face in the nearest wall

It took him a while to warm up to you, especially since he got a crush the first moment he saw you

You always tried your best to have him comfortable around you, you understood how anxiety could be

Eventually, he started hiding against your back whenever he got anxious

That was when you knew it was time to pop the question

“Tama, do you wanna go on a date with me?”

His face was completely red but he managed to stutter out an answer while furiously nodding

So when you guys started dating his blush reappeared whenever you’re around

But it wasn’t the type of “oh god I just wanna hide” blush

It was the “everything they do is amazing” blush

You’ll sometimes come up and give him a surprise kiss on the cheek

Or sometimes you’ll pick him up in a hug and spin him around

His face is flushed as he buries it in the crook of your neck with his arms wrapped around your shoulders

Other times, you’ll just hold his face in your hand and he leans into it with the sweetest smile

He loves it when you praise him

It makes him feel so much better after he does something he considers difficult, like ordering food or making an important phone call (me too, Tama)

His nerves are all jittery after it’s over and you’re there to soothe them by holding his hand or giving a small peck to his cheek

“That was so good, Tama! I’m proud!”

“You said all that without stuttering! Great job!”

“Wait, you did that all by yourself? My baby boy is growing up so fast!”

He really likes it when you call him your baby boy, it warms his face and his heart

Overall, he’s so happy to have someone so supportive

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

Thanks for reading!

#Hawks x reader #Shinso x reader #Hitoshi x reader #Izuku x reader #Midoriya x reader #Deku x reader #Katsuki x reader #Bakugou x reader #Mirio x reader #Togata x reader #Shouta x reader #Aizawa x reader #Tamaki x reader #Amajiki x reader #Shinsou x reader

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haikyuuthots · 3 years

Note

can i get a Tsukishima Kei X reader hurt/comfort fic? ty! love ur works sm :)

Hurt feelings - Tsukishima Kei

Pairing: reader x Tsukishima Kei

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: curse words, some arguing, but there’s fluff at the end!!!

Synopsis: You’re his person, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt your feelings.

A/n: thank u for requesting babe & thank u for liking my stuff, means so much to me!! Tsukishima is my main boo, I always love writing for him 😌. I hope you like this 💕

Masterlist

—————————————————————————

You weren’t trying to be clingy, that’s the last thing you’d ever want to be, but it feels like you haven’t seen your boyfriend in weeks, which is weird because you guys literally live together.

Tsukishima, just started working at a museum, and you worked as a barista in a small cafe. Lately, you haven’t been able to see him much, because you worked mornings and he worked afternoons. So whenever you were coming out he was barely going in, meaning that you’d only have a brief greeting. It’s weird how much you’ve missed him, even though he wasn’t really gone.

Finally today, you both had your day off from work, but Tsukishima has been stuck all day in his desk doing homework/late work he hasn’t finished, he was still very new at trying to juggle schoolwork and real work.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit frustrated, you want to be near him and hang out with him, because it feels like you haven’t had a real conversation with him in forever.

You peek over your shoulder for what felt like the 100th time today. Your boyfriend is still in his seat, with a stressed expression on his face while he continues to scribble down information. You contemplate whether or not you should try to convince him to take a break. You knew how agitated Tsukishima could get whenever he was stressed like this, and the last thing you wanted to do was bother him any further.

After thinking about it for a minute you finally decide to talk to him, in attempts of trying to help him relax. You walk over to his desk, and you’re now standing behind him.

Tsukishima feels your presence but decides to ignore you, not wanting to engage in any conversation until he was done doing this work. You lightly place your hand on his neck,

“Baby” you coo.

“Hmm?” He hums out. His eyes never leaving the paper

You gently wrap your arms around him, and place your chin on his shoulder “you need a break.” You quietly say

“Y/n. Not now.” Tsukishima, lightly takes you off of him, pushing you to the side a bit.

You’re a bit hurt from his actions, you knew he was stressed, but could it hurt him to at least feign interest?

“Tsukishima. You’ve been at it for hours, just take a small break. we can eat, you haven’t eaten all day.” You say, your voice sounding a bit more frustrated than before

Tsukishima slams his pencil on the desk “god dammit y/n I said not now!” He briefly yells out

You’re taken aback by his tone. You were looking out for him, so why was he yelling at you for that? Quickly your attitude changes from a caring girlfriend to an upset one

“Why are you yelling at me?? I’m looking out for you! God dammit we haven’t had alone time in weeks and now that we finally do, you can’t even sit down with me for 5 fucking minutes for one meal!”

Tsukishima turns around, and is now facing you, “this is what it’s about? You’re fucking lonely?” He lets out a sarcastic laugh “you’re so annoying. I have a shitload of work to do, and you’re bothering me with this bullshit?”

His words sting you, you’d expect he’d miss you as much as you missed him, but hearing his mocking tone, hurt your feelings

“Stop it Tsukishima. You’re being mean.” You try your best to hold back tears

“Oh my god.” He rubs his hands against his face “are you really doing this right now?” He’s looking up at you, with an unamused face “fuck, I don’t have time for this. Go cry about it somewhere else, I don’t care.”

You couldn’t believe how incredibly rude he was being. Of course you knew Tsukishima and you knew how mean he could be, but he’s never once dismissed your feelings. Any time you’d tell him, he was being too mean he’d always apologize and hold back, but now he was doing the complete opposite.

“You’re a fucking asshole!!” You yell out, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind you.

You’re beyond hurt with his behavior, you didn’t even want to be under the same roof as him. Quickly you head over to get your car keys grabbing your nearest sweater, you make your way out the front door.

Tsukishima’s body jolts up the second he hears the front door close. In an instant, he makes his way to the living room, when he notices that you’ve left he quickly runs after you. Unfortunately you were already in the car, and even though he tried to stop you from driving off, you did anyway.

“FUCK!” He yells out, as he slowly loses sight of you

You’re doing your best not to cry as you drive away, noticing Tsukishima’s standing body get smaller the further you go.

You had no idea where you were headed, all you knew was you needed space, because the anger you felt towards him at the moment was something you never wanted to feel.

Tsukishima quickly runs into the house, instantly grabbing his phone to dial your number. The first two times it goes directly to voicemail, but you finally pick up the third.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?” He yells out, you can hear the desperation in his voice, but you were too upset to care

“You told me to go cry about it somewhere else right? So don’t fucking worry bout it. It’s none of your concern.” And with that you hang up.

“FUCK” Tsukishima angrily throws his phone across the room, “ARE YOU FICKING KIDDING ME?” He smacks his hand on the kitchen counter, trying to release the built up frustration.

Resting his elbows on the counter, he buries his hands in his face “I fucked up.” He whispers to himself, in absolute regret

He didn’t want to hurt your feelings, he didn’t mean anything he said. He missed you, of course he did, but juggling work and school, was tearing him up, unknowingly the change in routine was making him bitter, but he knew you had nothing to do with it. He hated himself, for hurting the only person that brought him peace.

He walks over to pick up his phone, and he begins typing on the now slightly cracked screen

“I’m so fucking sorry. Please come back whenever you’re ready. I don’t deserve you, and I know that but I love you. I love you so much, i don’t want you to go. Please, just come back y/n. I’ll be waiting for you.”

2 hours later, Tsukishima finally hears the front door open, and he instantly runs to it.

You walk in, your eyes a bit swollen , and your face a little red

Tsukishimas heart breaks at the sight, feeling angry at himself knowing that he’s the reason you look like that.

He quickly runs over to you, engulfing you in a tight hug. You don’t reciprocate.

“Baby.” He breathes out, still squeezing you. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m such an asshole.” He continues speaking “you deserve so much better, someone who won’t hurt you the way I did.”

He’s trying his best to choke back tears, his voice cracking a bit “but I love you. I love you so much, I let out my frustrations on you and you didn’t deserve it, but please, don’t leave me.”

You finally wrap your arms, around him as you let small tears fall form your face. “Tsukki- it’s ok-“

“No” he cuts you off, “it’s not okay, it’ll never be okay. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

You’re finally looking up at him, and you place your hand on his cheek “you’re right. it wasn’t okay, but you know that and that’s important.”

He leans his forehead on yours, “can I kiss you?” You nod your head yes and seeing that, Tsukishima connects, his lips to yours. The kiss was full of love, and passion. In a swift move he picks you and you wrap your legs around his waist. Walking you over the couch he sits you on his lap and he briefly pulls away.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says as he stares lovingly into your eyes “of course I missed you. You’re the only person I look forward to seeing every day.”

You lightly smile at his words as he continues speaking

“I hate not spending time with you.”

You once again lean your forehead on his as you lightly caress his face, looking into his eyes you respond “do me a favor, if you ever feel overwhelmed please just tell me, so we never have to fight like this again.”

“I promise.”

With that you kiss him again, wrapping your arms around his neck.

As you two pull away, Tsukishima breaks the subtle silence. “So what does my pretty girl want to do? I’m here for you all day, fuck that extra work.”

You smile brightly “I just want to be with you Kei, doesn’t matter where.”

“I know where we can go.”

You look up at him an amused expression on your face “you do? Where?”

“You’ll know when we get there.”

You both change into different clothes, and get ready to drive out. It was only a 10 minute drive from your house. When you arrive, your heart flutters the second you recognize the area.

You both were standing in the middle of a field in the park. The sky was filled with stars and the pond next you was sparkling.

You look up at Tsukishima, smiling

“Is this-“

“Where we had our first kiss?” He cuts you off “yeah.”

You look around as you’re reminded of the special memory.

“This place is special to me, because I was with you.”

“Kei.” Your heart flutters at his words, he was never one to explicitly express how he was feeling, so listening to him made you feel happy.

“I just want you to know, that no matter what I say or do, or don’t say or do. You matter to me.” He’s not looking at you as he speaks, but you just know every word he said is genuine.

“I love you Kei.”

Tsukishima finally looks down at you, leaning his face closer to your he speaks

“I love you too.”

Now kissing him under the stars, in the same place you first realized you truly loved him, you can easily say that even though you fight and disagree, he was your person, your soulmate, there was no doubt about it.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu blog #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu! x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu boys #haikyuu x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima angst #tsukishima kei #tsukishima haikyuu #haikyuu blurb #kei tsukishima #kei tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

Hi! If you’re taking requests could you write a Mollymauk x Reader where they’re really close friends and he calls her a bunch of cute nicknames but then Molly notices that she starts getting really dejected or just leaves when he starts talking to new people and she ends up confessing that it’s because she’s fallen for him and doesn’t like to be around when he’s calling other random strangers “darling” and “love”? Thank you!!!

Hope you enjoy! 😘

When you were walking down the streets in search for a place to stay the night Molly had pulled you along by your arm wrapping it around his, proudly parading around like he usually does, the Nein following his lead, some of them definitely not keeping their opinions to themselves watching you two go. Of course these comments are simply met with a laugh and a kiss to your temple, words whispered in your ear to make you blush. The red creeping up your cheeks as you shoot a glance backwards are usually enough to make those comments from Beau at least to stop. Jester, the hopeless romantic she is will just squeal and take out here sketchbook to capture this moment in detail.

Inn found, the place is nice and cozy but also a bit more pricy than the group had hoped. That’s an easy task for Mollymauk Tealeaf to fix. He lets go of your arm when you reach the bar, the others behind and leans on the counter top on his elbows biting his tongue and giving an innocent half smile letting the pointed canines show in all their glory as he bats his eyelashes.

“Are you sure you can’t give us a special deal? We’re taking four rooms already. Some of us will already share but I don’t particularly enjoy sleeping on the floor. Do you think you’d have a better offer, handsome.” Molly winks at the barkeep who, admittedly isn’t bad on the eyes is also taken aback by the tiefling’s blatant advances. So much so he stutters on offering a decent discount as Molly reaches out brushing his hand over the exposed lower arm of the barkeep who’s more bothered by being seen by his other patrons than the tiefling’s gestures. Molly’s enjoying every second of this as is clear by the attitude he carries, the grin on his face and the mischievous look in his eyes and he’s so caught up in his act he doesn’t notice you excuse yourself taking one of the keys and rushing off to one of the rooms.

“You’re a darling. Thank you so much for your generosity.” That’s the last you hear as you watch Molly lean in over the bar a little closer and the barkeep blushes wildly. With a shake of your head and boiling blood you walk up the stairs, enter the room and slam the door closed behind you dropping yourself onto the bed face buried into the pillow and let out a scream of frustration to be muffled by the the pillow.

It takes a good fifteen minutes of Molly flirting with the barkeep to also get a discount on meals and drinks for the night. He’d gladly sacrifice his time, not only because they’re running short on money and need the coin but also because he generally likes to mess with people and it was so easy. He had the barkeep a stuttering mess in seconds. That’s something to be proud of isn’t it? Either way he prides himself for it. Nevermind, the others are settled at a table, drinks poured but one’s missing. You’re missing. Where did you go? Molly looks around the tavern but doesn’t see you. He doesn’t miss a beat sending a wink to the barkeep when they make eye contact but returns his attention to the Nein.

“The pretty one, where did she go?” Molly asks.

“I’m right here Molly. Or am I not pretty enough for you?” Beau snorts slamming back her drink. She knows fully well he means you and she won’t miss an opportunity to tease the tiefling now she’s got ammo. She’ll play this game any day.

“The annoying one, that’s what you are.” Molly replies as Beau sticks out her tongue and takes the drink Jester slipped to her for seconds. Two drinks right after arrival? That does not bode well for the night… for Beau. He, however will have plenty of entertainment provided by the monk once she starts a drunken bar fight. At least they won’t be the ones getting kicked out. He’s got that barkeep in his pocket.

“Fuck you too, Mollymauk.” Beau grumbles into her tankard.

“I think she went upstairs to settle in but she’s not come back yet. Should we save her a drink?” Jester speaks as she holds back a unclaimed tankard from Nott the Brave who’s already done with her own.

“That’s alright. Thank you, Jester, for providing a useful answer to my previous question.” Beau shakes her head at Molly’s words but holds her tongue as Jester allows Nott to take the remaining tankard and before Beau can claim his, he slides it across the table over to Nott who defends it like there’s no tomorrow. Beau flips him off as he goes upstairs with a laugh.

Opening the door to your room without knocking Mollymauk sees you face down on the bed, belongings discarded at the foot of the bed. For a moment he considers you might just have tossed yourself onto the bed and allowed the exhaustion of the journey to overtake you but your breathing doesn’t match that of your sleeping form. Molly sneaks up to the foot of the bed and wraps an arm around your ankle yanking it. He’s met with a yelp and before he knows it he’s struck in the face with a pillow. When it drops to the floor he sees you sitting up arms crossed. You’re not as amused as he is with his antics. Weird. Usually you’d have laughed or retaliated with a witty remark before you both would be laughing. Now you’re glaring at him.

“What’s got you in such a foul mood, darling?” He asks as clearly you’re not just going to reveal the answer of your own volition because you felt like it. You bite your tongue holding back a comment so instead he sits next to you on the edge of the bed, facing you arm leaning on your raised knees and for just a moment your expression softens. Okay, so you’re not angry at him for something. That’s good. At least he knows he won’t be at the receiving end of your wrath.

“Nothing.” You mutter. Why is hit when his stupid face walks into the room you just forget why you were upset in the first place. Well, you know why but the feelings still disappears, that little voice in the back of your head saying it’s a stupid reason anyway.

“Clearly it’s something, love. You know you can tell me anything, right?” Molly doesn’t feel the need to tease or even try to do something, anything to lift your spirits or make you laugh. This isn’t something that’s simply laughed off. This is something that needs words first.

“I know.” You nod but you don’t move to say anything and just let yourself fall backwards onto the bed wiping your face letting out a disgruntled sigh. You still keep your knees raised providing the support for Molly’s current position and look up at him. The jovial and smug attitude is gone and replaced by one of calm and a hint of worry. He pats your thigh waiting, giving you a moment to seek for the right words or response, anything really.

“It’s stupid. Don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about me. I’ll get over myself.” You offer him a weak smile but Molly doesn’t buy it. You don’t have him convinced for a second and you know you don’t when he gives you a look pressing you to be truthful. Stupid stupid stupid. Why did he have to have such a hold over you? Stupid feelings.

“It’s not stupid to me and I do worry.” It’s very few times Molly drops the act and allows his words to sound like the most genuine thing in the world. There’s no attempt of persuasion, or sweet-talking. There’s no blunt honesty but a careful one, approaching this as if you’re slipping through his fingers like sand. So that’s here you can’t stop yourself from clinging onto whatever you had. Better rip the bandaid off quickly and maybe he’ll let you down gently.

“I like you. I like you a lot. And whenever you’re flirting with strangers you come across like you do with me I just feel like I’m nothing more than a stranger to you.” Molly takes in your words and his expression remains gentle to the point where you can’t gleam anything but that off it. There’s no response like you expected. No surprise or discontent. You’d hoped he wouldn’t have laughed at you and at least he didn’t but you don’t know if you’re happier with the gentle smile he offers you as it literally doesn’t steer you in any direction. It just leaves you waiting.

Mollymauk’s not surprised by your words. He had suspected for a while but it’s not his place to assume. Sure when the attraction is only physical and never intended to be something of the longer term, it’s easy and fun to mess around with but you weren’t just physically attracted nor was this the short term kind of thing when it came to your feelings as these develop over time, not in a brief moment. So he dared not assume. It’s risky territory for him as he’s had few lasting long term relationships, even less so the ones build on genuine mutual feelings. He’s in no way uncomfortable with your feelings, or his own for that matter but he’s more careful because he’s pretty sure he’d have more success navigating a journey across thin ice, or a death drop below.

“Just say something. Do anything. Please. I can’t bear the silence.” You beg as Molly realises he might have zoned out a little longer than he intended to but when it takes him even longer to shake himself out of it you let your knees drop and making him lose his balance and fall upon your legs. That’s enough to snap him out of it.

“Very funny, love.” He deadpans as he sits back up again, releasing your legs allowing you to do the same and hug your knees leaning your cheek on top of it. Anticipation is clear within your eyes as he hasn’t given you any reaction to your confession just yet.

“Do anything you said?” The unreadable expression returns but his fingers slip beneath your face and gently lift it up. You await his next move not daring to hope where this is going and not moving beyond where Molly guided you to. He looks you in the eyes searching for any hesitation or move to back away but when you don’t offer him one beyond the anticipation he leans in pressing his lips to yours.

“You could never be a stranger. And I don’t know what I’ve done to lead you to believe so but take my word when I tell you I promise you I’ll spend every day of my life reminding you you’ll never be a stranger to me.” Molly’s words hit home and you know he’s someone who lives in the moment but you also know this is real and his words are genuine.

“Now if that means, you want me to stop flirting with barkeeps, and merchants to get some hefty discounts I will, for your sake.” He grins pecking your lips once more

“I’m pretty sure the others will kill me if you do. So best not?” You smile. Molly chuckles. Strangely, that’s all you needed to hear. Maybe your jealousy wasn’t stemmed from the tiefling’s blatant flirting with everyone and everything because you’ve always known Molly to be a flirt, even long before your feelings for him developed. It was just your own insecurities and doubts getting in your way and those were severely discredited by Molly’s words; ‘you’ll never be a stranger to me.’

“Best not then. That barkeep is a handsome one. Could be fun, darling?” Molly taps his chin as if considering and you slap his shoulder. You know he’s just teasing you so when he grabs the hand that hit at him you grab the pillow near your legs and smack him with it. Before you can swing a second time, the two of you giggling like idiots, Molly grabs the pillow throwing it behind you at the head of the bed and uses your held hand to pull you into a deep kiss.

The door swings open and in comes Beauregard, her backpack slung over her shoulder, staff in hand and just groans loudly at the kissing pair on one of the beds. She rolls her eyes disgruntled.

“Fjord! We’re gonna be roommates! Don’t fight me on this!” Beau shouts as she slams the door closed and goes over to a different room to drop her things. Fuck, she needs another drink. Despite everything she can’t fight the smile from slipping onto her lips. She’d known it was a long time coming but you finally having gotten over yourselves and having found some happiness brought her that smile to her face. Not like she’d ever admit it. And now she’s just gotten another thing to tease Molly about. She can already feel the comebacks and witty remarks form in her mind. Prepare yourself Tealeaf.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #mollymauk x reader #critical role #mighty nein

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kthynes · 3 years

Text

meet cute

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

request: What about Chris meeting a cute girl at target. It's 10 pm and the reader is with a good friend buying some food. The reader is not from the USA she is from Germany and visit her friend in the USA. Chris and the Reader catch the Same thing and he can't keep his eyes of her even when she is younger than him (22years) - anon

warning: none, just marshmallow fluff

a/n: I honestly think there's so much sweetness and anticipation in first chance meetings. If I were to ever bump into Chris irl then this is how I would want it to pan out. Thanks for the request, anon! Stay lovin' folksss.

ALSO that look, that mf look. I'd die.

-:-

America is nothing like Germany or any other country you've visited in the past. Aside from economic differences and views in politics, you find that everyone here is generally accepting, a bit aggressive, but kind enough to overshare their thoughts. There is a jovial atmosphere that you find yourself attesting to and then there's also the glaring culture shock that assaults you left right and center. It has definitely been a happy adjustment.

"Becky Jane price check to cash five! Becky Jane price check to cash five." A woman hollers over the intercom as you and your good friend, Mia giggle down the aisles. You are in America visiting her for the first time after a long time. She's well settled, attending UMass, living her best life and you couldn't be any happier for her.

"So what should we make for dinner?" She turns to ask you.

"Anything is fine with me, I mean it's getting kind of late now and I'd be okay with cereal." You point to a box of Cocopuffs and your friend shakes her head.

"That's not the first meal you're having in America Y/N." She chides you before coming up with one of her better ideas. "C'mon let's go over to the produce section, we can grab some ingredients for my world famous spinach and feta lasagna!"

You laugh but a part of you is tempted to stay, still enticed by the large array of sugary breakfast cereals. "Actually you go on ahead I wanna look around here for a bit."

Your friend rolls her eyes. "Fine if you're really hellbent then we can have cereal for dessert. How does that sound?"

"Perfect." You smile at her as she shakes her head and trolleys down the narrow aisle way.

There are so many options and while standing in the middle of the aisle you can't help but take in the rows of corrugated and colorful boxes, all brandishing a character or mascot of some sort. You finally settle on one box, reach over to grab it but then come up short when another hand does the same. You gasp and unsubtly retreat in unison, there's that assurgency that parallels your feelings of embarrassment and awkwardness.

"Oh I'm sorry!" You say before getting a better look at the man standing right next to you.

"No that's alright." He chuckles as your eyes shamelessly widen. It's him. The all American ass man himself, Chris Evans. He seems unreal. A simulation almost as he's idling around in a fitted red plaid flannel, dark blue jeans and a NASA cap that has seen better days.

"You can have it."

"Er, um, are you sure?" You ask and he nods, playfully bouncing his brows at you with an immobilizing grin.

"Yeah I can settle for something else." He eyes the shelf and then picks out a box of Special K, fibrous and healthy.

"Oh no don't, here take it." You joust him with the box and his head drops, laughing softly.

"It's fine. I'm better off with this stuff anyways." He says while sticking around, edging for some more conversation as his eyes inconspicuously drinks you up. You bob your head up and down and purse your lips, flustered to even properly smile at the actor who looks proportionally the same in person, if not even more breathtaking.

"I'm Chris by the way. But I'm sure you already knew that." He states out loud and you nod slightly while closely holding onto the last box of Captain Crunch. "And you must be?"

"Y/N." You say softly and his face turns up with appreciation. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl he thinks to himself.

"Nice to meet you Y/N. I'm guessing you're not from around here." You both walk the back aisles, perusing through at a snails pace.

"How'd you..." You falter.

"You have a slight accent." Chris admits, pointing to his mouth to gesture the lilt he's been carefully in tune with. Your mouth forms into an 'o.' "But it's cute though."

"Oh!" Your voice goes up a register and then back down again when you laugh at his double sidedness. "Yeah I'm not."

"That's cool, where are ya from? If you don't mind me asking, that is." Chris holds to himself, making sure that he wasn't overstepping any boundaries by making casual conversation.

"Germany." You state without any pressing objections.

"Ahh best known for Stollen and beer and not to mention, muesli." Chris comes off a worldly man as he factualizes this statement to you as if you weren't aware of the lifestyle itself. "Which makes you very deserving of that box of Cap'n Crunch."

"Oh yeah?" You quirk a brow in questioning.

"For sure. It's an American delicacy and right, have at it." You giggle upon hearing this and Chris finds it scintillating to hear. Wow.

"Well thank you for being so thoughtful Mr. Evans." You sweetly add.

"Of course, always a gentleman." He says with a large hand pressed against his chest, proving to be an honorable man.

"Have you ever been to Germany?" You set forth with another ask and he shakes his head no.

"No I haven't really travelled around Europe like that but I would love to." Chris pipes for you to mentally take note.

"You should go when you get the chance, it's lovely."

"Like yourself?" Chris flirtatiously rebuts.

"At most."

"So what brings you to America?" He ponders.

"My friend lives here and I thought I'd come down visit her for the holidays before going back to college." You tell him and he understandably nods, feeling a pang of disappointment course through him when he realizes that you're probably young if he'd gotten his vague calculations correct.

"That's great. And is that her?" You both approach the front of the store where it's wide open and there are no shelves keeping you two hidden away. You notice your friend Mia giving you a quizzical look of disbelief, as her eyes dance between you and Chris who's used to fan behavior at different paradigms.

"It is and now I'm not going to hear the end of it." You face him with an apologetic look, cueing to Chris that you had to go. He took this in good stride while nodding with solemnness. "I should get going."

"Okay, sure, yeah."

"It was very nice meeting you, Chris." You lightly touch his arm as your thankful way of departure.

"Likewise." He answers with his eyes looking down at you and holding you in place for a split second. First goodbyes were just as ungiving as last goodbyes, especially when there's a sense of unknowingness in being reunited again. There's that chance you forcible take in hopes that the universe will have a timely plan and alignment.

"Y/N?" Mia impatiently calls for you from across the threshold and there is some shared awkwardness in letting go.

"You should..." Chris starts, eyes closing slightly as you back away.

"Right, okay well bye!" You yelp before spinning around, tight on your heels and trudging towards your friend who is now looking at Chris with big, bulbous eyes. Mia's mind races, pieces and panders like any inquisitively gossipy best friend that could've been plucked straight from a 2000's rom-com. She sputters right as you appear in front of her.

"What just happened? How'd you... Y/N, that's Chris Evans!" Mia profanely surmises just as you drop the box of cereal into the cart. "You were talking and smiling and being all cute with Chris Evans!"

"I know. Don't ask."

"I have to because he's eyeing like a hawk Y/N!"

"Oh shit, he is?"

"See for yourself m'dear." She snickers.

You turn around and notice that Chris is waiting in line but his eyes are fully on you as the smile on his lips broadens. There's a substandard twinkle in his blue irises that thanks you for your time - surely an impactful encounter that has him slightly enamored by you in clear focus. And that is enough for you to be contented, knowing that you had an unconventional meet cute with Chris Evans.

Imagine that.

#chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans

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hanazou · 3 years

Note

hello,, I’ve been feeling down lately and a loved one of mine recently has passed away...

if you are comfortable with it may I request a scenario of Atsushi and Chuuya comforting their s/o who were grieving over a death of a loved one? ;0 thank you I love your blog 💖💖

𝙘𝙝𝙪𝙪𝙮𝙖 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛

Books : Chuuya | Atsushi

Genre : Comfort, romance

Category : Headcanons, short scenario

Shelves : Hardback | Paperback

Warning : Description of grief

Note : I am deeply sorry for your loss. I can’t do emergency requests but I tried to get this one out as fast as I could. I could only do short scenarios of this so I added headcanons, I hope this is alright. Once again, my condolences and please stay strong.

Chuuya has to ask you a couple of worried questions before it strikes him what you’re dealing with.

He will be on the verge of panicking when he first hears the bad news, worse if you're the one that has to tell him what happened. He instantly undergoes flashbacks from experiencing something like this himself and he fears that your coping with the grief might harm you.

If you can’t afford to talk to him like you usually do, he understands.

He stands/sits next to you, arms crossed, occasionally glancing at you to see if there’s any change in your stance, expression, anything.

He avoids staring at you directly in concern that you'd become pressured by him.

He’s ready to catch you if your legs fail you

Holds the top of your head lightly yet firmly. If you don’t show signs of protesting, he’d slowly pull you closer to his neck.

Getting physically affectionate is his prime card to comfort you, but before anything, he takes off his gloves so he won’t dirty you.

His fingers move kind of unevenly and feel rough, but that’s how you can feel his desire to support you

If you can’t stop crying or on the verge to go on a complete mental breakdown, he immediately collides his body against yours as tight and strong as he could.

If your legs give up, he drops down with you in his arms instead of keeping you standing with his ability and he’ll clutch your face close when you both land on the floor.

If you won’t hug him first, he’ll pull you to him. He forces your face down his shoulder so you’d grieve as much as your heart can empty while his hand brushes your back up and down.

“Cry as long as you need,”

Words, as I’ve once said, isn’t his speciality, but he tries regardless. He wants to make sure that you know you aren’t alone, that you have him with you.

He doesn’t talk as much but his distressed expression stays as long as he’s with you.

“You can take it out on my shoulder, you know,” He hesitates a bit, unsure if he sounds too rough.

If you can’t stop crying, he pats your shoulder, only knowing how to say “There, there” since he thinks it’s better than saying nothing at all. Chuuya thinks you need to hear him being there.

Chuuya squeezes through his tight schedule to make time for you.

He negotiates as best as he could with Mori to give him as much time off as possible.

If it’s impossible to take a week off, he goes full rampage in his job with the thought of you in his head motivating him to finish everything as soon as possible, making a mess where he goes.

If someone gets in his way, Chuuya shouts, "I've got someone more important to see, you punk!" while blasting them away.

He always brings food and drink over and makes sure you eat. He spoon-feeds you if necessary. He isn’t the cleanest but him wiping your face clean makes up for that.

"Come on, babe, you gotta eat," Chuuya says. "They won't like seeing you grieving like this, so eat, yeah? For them?"

If the emotions exhaust you to sleep, he sits against the wall and pulls you to him so you’d sleep against his body, making sure his limbs are around you so you’d never feel the loss of pressure around your body.

If it's cold, he wraps you with a blanket and occasionally touches your fingers to know whether you're staying warm or not.

Since Chuuya’s goal is to make sure you don’t feel alone or abandoned as I’ve mentioned, he does everything to solidify his presence.

He calls often if he has to be away, he sends food delivery, leaves short sticky notes, and sends voice messages.

It’s noticeable he doesn’t know what to say and even more obvious that he wants to keep reaching out to you.

Chuuya tries to strike a light and brief conversation once in a while. He’s disturbed by your uncharacteristic silence, it scares him.

“Do you want some takoyaki?” He’d ask randomly. The anxiety on his face never wavers away.

He does any activity that comes to mind when he stays at your place, but regardless of what he does, he’s never more than three feet away from you.

Always, without fail, kisses you good morning and good night on the forehead regardless he stays at your place or not.

Or if you're not opposed to it, Chuuya wants to take you to his place. He may still have to go to work, but something doesn't feel right about leaving you alone for so long in a place he's not too familiar with. At least in his space, you're constantly reminded you're not alone and that you're there because you're never abandoned.

Like a strayed ship in a storming ocean, your emotions are the waves storming your damaged vassal of conscience to the point that even looking forward to sunray from the bleak sky of endless cloud sounds mythical, making speaking a heavy chore. You’ve been exhausting yourself to sleep, soaking everything with your tears until it no longer comes out. It’s frustrating, it’s turbulent, so active in making you passive. Your tears run out but not the multiple stabs around your heart. Your voice leaves you but not the intensity or the transparency of hurt on your face.

It feels impossible, fictional, but if it were, then you aren't supposed to have your heart cauterized. It's the reminder of the bitter truth you're grappling against accepting.

If they had to go, why not bring the pain with them? Why do they have to leave you fractured, incomplete, empty, by transcending away while you stay behind, only able to watch them shrink somewhere unreachable?

Why do pieces of you have to be chipped off your already fragile soul, leaving holes in your essence? Why leave many pieces behind, why leave you alone?

“Hey,” A voice zaps your mind back to your head.

You remove your face from your wrinkled, moist, and sweaty palms, everything in front of you foggy from the swelling of your eyes. You still wear your dark clothes, unable to find the heart to change into something new, something brighter, after the sudden tragedy strikes. It was not, and still not is, in your capability to even stand up to eat.

Chuuya’s oddly timid and soft-sounding voice for this week is what makes you feel something other than rocking instability.

Slightly opening your eyes to see him, his figure before you hurts your eyes from how colourful he is. His face appears like a messy mix of vibrant paint, his orange hair, blue eyes and fair skin, and dark clothes sticking out from the stale background behind him.

A pair of silver keys, ones that unlock your door, stand out from his black-gloved hand from beneath his tightened fist. He puts it in his pocket and takes your hands, forcing you to stand and steadies your arms when your knees wobble.

"Have you eaten the lunch I had delivered here?" He pats off the dust from your shoulders and arms, his vibrant face still paining your swollen eyes.

Your eyes roll to the untouched paper bag on the table. You figure Chuuya’s eyes follow because of the stifled sigh he holds in.

"Babe, come on…"

"I can't," is what you try to say, although with your dry throat, it comes out like scorched empty words. "I'm sorry, I know you picked it with great care and thoughts so I'd eat, but I just can't, not when—" You catch a coarse breath. "Not when I'm like this, I can't yet."

"Still don't want to talk about it?" His voice squeezes. "You can't keep it in forever, you know, and you really shouldn't."

With your blurry vision, you figure that his arms extend open. A weak ‘what?’ is all you can hoarsely ask.

“Saying nothing, skipping meals and not drinking.” He says sourly. “Let out your grieve like how it should be done. That's what they'd want too."

Your tears make a reappearance at either a bad or perfect timing, depends on how you tilt your head to see it. They prickle your eyes, some rushing down your face.

“Come here,” Chuuya says, perhaps frowning from the way his voice changed.

Your eyes close slowly before opening again, your puffed eyelids troubling you from keeping your eyes opened. “I don’t think I can,” You sound like an overworked opera singer. “If I hug you, I won’t be able to let go and I might suffocate you without meaning to.”

You think Chuuya makes a sound of annoyance until a force smashes your body forward, lunging your face against him. The brief faint glow of orange earlier helps you process that he used his ability on you to bring you to him. Now his arms trap you in him, your forehead strongly weighted on his shoulder.

“Then suffocate me,” His muffled voice says from behind your head, one of his hands taking your arm to hold his body. “I’m always here.”

Your hands stretch his shirt with your tight clasp as you feel yourself getting lost in the waves. The turbulence crashes out from within you as you incoherently cry on Chuuya’s stable body, him becoming your guaranteer in the midst of the rocking forces that threaten your balance. His rigid arms support your weight as you wail out, ensuring that the waves don’t sweep you away, somewhere unreachable from him. He secures you, letting you explore the storm’s rolling waves while still grounding you safe.

“I’m here,” The soft wind in the storm grazes your ear. “I promise.”

Atsushi is one of the most sympathetic and empathetic people you could ask for when it comes to comfort you through your grief.

He’s nowhere oblivious to someone who’s hurting. He recognizes what kind of pain you’re going through and it doesn’t take him too long to identify what you’re feeling and the intensity of it although he can’t process it into words.

Atsushi is so worried sick for you that he has trouble thinking straight and his breaths get faster.

He’s really anxious about you feeling left behind or abandoned.

He makes sure that you don’t doubt that your beloved one who has to leave earlier definitely loves you.

It breaks him if you think of things such as disappointing them, unable to fulfil their wishes, etc.

Atsushi can feel your hurt as if it’s his own, and because of his heightened emotional senses, he’s quick to jump in to support you. It’s instinctive.

He’s at first hesitant to touch you, let alone comfort you with his embrace, so he starts with generic sentences like “I’m so sorry” and “You can lean on me” while offering his empty shoulder

It’s challenging for him, but Atsushi is persistent to comfort you with his words before he touches you.

He insists on speaking before holding you around him.

Atsushi validates your feelings by putting his guesses of how you’re currently feeling into words. He’s not the best with words so he’ll struggle to pick his vocabulary, but the things he says are mostly true.

“I’m sorry you have to feel like your heart is becoming stiff,”

“If you feel like everything around you is empty, I’m still here,”

When he does get to the point where he feels that physical touch can help you, Atsushi is very tender.

He starts with wiping your tears away until your cheeks are drier and offers you tissues. He’ll help you blow your nose

He removes the hair sticking to your face and wipes your face until you’re dry

He hugs you like he's the one broken; putting his face on your shoulder, arms hanging from your neck. It's because that he fears that you might get as hopeless as him. He dreads for that for that happen so he holds you with the strongest Affirmation he can give.

"I'm with you, I'll always be," He keeps repeating while he hugs you.

Touches your fingers most of the time and squeezes your hand

Atsushi fights tooth and nail to get several days off to stay with you in your place. He’ll have a whole speech prepared so he can convince Fukuzawa and Kunikida

He’ll spend the morning bargaining with Fukuzawa in his office after giving Kunikida a 15 minute TED talk about how badly he can empathize with your loss and how he’s rock certain you need his company

He asks Kyouka to help him make your food that’s easy to digest for the stomach, like soup and porridge. You can best bet that she’s going to add some tofu to it.

“Kyouka-chan helped me make this fish soup,” Atsushi presents you the bento boxes, unwrapping the cloth. “Let’s eat, okay? You have to keep your stomach filled. I’ll help you.”

If he’s unable to spend the night at your place, Atsushi makes sure to arrive at 6 am sharp every day to check on you, and the earliest he’ll leave is around 8 o’clock

He cleans your place every day diligently and does an excellent job at it. Doing the dishes, cleaning the floor, making sure the sink is clean and ensures the bathroom floor isn’t slippery. He doesn’t want an untaken care living space to worsen your emotional state.

Despite always bringing fresh food, Atsushi makes sure to cook fresh batches of rice to eat with anything he delivers so if you miraculously want to eat something, you’ll have something to consume.

If he has to leave for a while, he surrounds you with plush toys. If you don't have any, he borrows Kyouka's bunny plushies collection and arranges them around you, your pillow, the corner of your bed, and on your blanket.

Atsushi never wants you to forget that your loved one loves you. He does everything in his power to remind you everyday that although they're gone, the love they have for you will eternally stay with you and that nothing can ever change that.

He hugs you while verbally reminding you of that.

His hugs always lasts a long while if you're not uncomfortable with it. He can stay long minutes in that position.

Or he sits/lays down next to you in silence, doing absolutely nothing. He's anxious about the quietness himself so his fingers are always near yours.

Words of affirmation randomly comes out. Sometimes he talks about his personal experience to encourage you that everything will be alright, sometimes he tells you the reasons to his belief why your loved one's love for you preserves through all.

He keeps his talks motivational and faithful for the future. Sometimes he'd quote the things Dazai had said to him, filtering out the nonsense if necessary, or the things he always told himself in hope for a brighter tomorrow.

A breathing doll has been haunting your room for a week. It blinks, it moves, it can be spoonfed, but nobody at a glance would argue that it lives. It’s a doll. Calling it an undead is more generous than calling it a doll because of the existing needs. A doll sits inanimately, breathes at the bare minimum, and is devoid of wants and needs.

It’s the perfect status to illustrate how corpse-like you’ve been living like for this week. Your stone-cold face, just as cold fingers, eyes that barely shift, dried mouth and chapped lips make it a challenge to have you described as something living. To even use the word ‘live’ to describe you is contradictory and to hear the word ‘live’ suffocates your throat and clamps your once functioning heart. The indescribable pain mutes you, paralyzes you, turning you doll-like.

A broken doll, you are, once full, once living and moving until the one you love had to bid life farewell first without warning.

One tireless and loyal white-haired boy frequents you every day, bearing food and water to make sure the living doll in your room doesn’t fade into the cold. Cobwebs would have formed between your arms and your bed if he didn’t clean you off the filth you don’t bathe away, your nerves have been too dormant for you to feel filthy.

A bright white figure shifts around in front of you like a poltergeist. You pay it no mind. This isn't the first or second time you're seeing things that aren't there, or rather, someone who isn't supposed to be here. Your cluelessness to cope with the grave reality seems to have driven your brain on autopilot, it seems that this time it decides to give you a hallucination so you'd have someone to cling to.

A sudden snap startles your eyes to open wider, albeit without focus. Something black was in front of you, it had five branches and moves so... humanly. Like it's real. You trace it back to the white hallucination in front of you and it takes you a while to realise that you aren't hallucinating. The white haired boy who has been frequenting your place is here again today.

"Atsushi..." His name falls emptily through your teeth.

Atsushi’s mouth opens and his lips move in accordance. His face wrinkles to the centre. The inconsistent pressure he applies around your cold hand before holding you as tight as now tells you of how fragile he knows you are.

His mouth opens again familiarly. You shift your eyes to him without any effort to listen through the incoherent sound.

When his lips move for the third time, you figure out he has been calling your name. You blink twice and his chest deflates with a long exhale.

“You’ll pull through,” His hold around your hand boldens as he grit his teeth. “They had to depart first but they did so while loving you. You're loved, they love you. You can use that to push on, their love for you lives on and so do your memories of them.”

He observes you with high intensity as if expecting you to speak. You notice the disappointment when all your eyes do is gaze hollowly through him. You think he breathes in a sob from the sudden squeak he makes.

Your eyes lazily roll to follow your hand Atsushi lifts to put against his face. “I’m with you, I'll always will be. You’re not alone, you’re not alone, you’re not alone.” He chants. “You’re never alone, you’re never alone.”

He brings your hand down against his chest. Something beats inside to hammer you the reminder that it will never stop thrumming. The warmth reminds your nerves of something. It feels contagious, bringing you recollecting something you used to feel often.

“I promise, I promise, I promise,” Atsushi hurriedly says, “I’ll always be here for you.”

Like a mantra, his words deliver the familiar sensation his chest makes you feel to your essence. After your slowed blink, you tilt down your head and tilt back up, repeating that movement until it’s fitted to be called a nod. Atsushi heaves a breath out and pulls your hand to get between his arm and side until your upper body drops against his.

“They watch over you, I promise,” His hand holds your head as you passively breathe on his shirt. "Anytime and anywhere, they're with you, and so am I.” He says airily. "You're never alone and never will be. They're with you and I'm staying forever, you'll never see your side empty, I promise they watch over you, I promise, I promise, I promise,"

Your head tilts to the side, giving more space to breathe. His solid body exudes more of the feeling you don’t realize you crave. It reaches your throat eventually, nourishing you with words you once lost.

"Thank you," You whisper.

A living doll you temporarily are but not forever, and most certainly, a loved human you are for as long as the memory of your beloved and Atsushi keep you close to them.

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http-lovelyknow · 3 years

Text

Infuriating -Johnny Suh Pt2

Hello! The long awaited Infuriating pt2 is here!!

Thank you to everyone for requesting a part 2 and I’m sorry it took me so long😅

Part 1 Here

And I want to give a special thank you to @flowerboykun for proofreading this and making this incredible banner for me I appreciate you so much!

And big thank you to @se-onghwa for proofreading and all the words of support!

This is part 2 to the Infuriating I posted on my old blog @we-are-luxury-and-treasure hope you like it!

TW NSFW - Dom(softish) Johnny, Sub(reader) but those are the only TW I think? Sorry if I missed anything

Word count - 3,195

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To say that Johnny was stalking you would be an overstatement, it was more like haunting.

Ever since you snapped at him a couple of weeks ago you feel like he’s just been. . . watching you. He’s always just somewhere around the corner and you start to feel like prey. His dark amber eyes seem to follow you everywhere and record your every move.

You often recall his threat of “Next time you’ll be punished, so please behave.” At the worst times it never fails to send shivers down your spine.

Today is no different, except instead of shivering alone in the safety of your house away from Johnny, you're thinking of his threat right in front of him like the idiot you are.

Currently trying not to sweat, you're applying makeup to his face for an interview they have, and while the boys behave better, Johnny is still acting up and pushing your buttons just not in the same way. Now he does things like, winking at you, putting his hand on your back to move past even if he didn't need to, leaning too close to whisper something to you, etc, etc but today he’s actually been well mannered.

You lightly hum to yourself as you carefully place eyeshadow onto Johnny's eyelids, his calm breathing is slightly suspicious, he never sits still, but you’ll take what you can get.

The lively sounds of the boys roughhousing behind you fill the room while you stand between Johnny's knees to get every detail right. You shift your weight to one side, you lean over, and grab a clean brush on the table behind his shoulder.

Mark then decided this would be a perfect time to stumble back, knocking you into Johnny which wouldn’t have been so bad had Johnny not immediately gripped the back of your thighs much tighter than was necessary, effectively holding you against him.

A small yip escapes you when you make contact and you quickly try to scan his face to see if there was a mistake in his makeup due to you being pushed, when you find none you look up and notice Johnny staring at you.

His eyes flick from your eyes to your lips a couple of times before he takes in a shaky breath and you realize you're still on top of him.

You feel the burn of embarrassment through your spine to the pit of your stomach and try to move away.

He flexes his fingers for a second demanding you meet his gaze one more time.

And you swear to god the spark his amber eyes ignite is enough to set your every nerve on fire.

The whole ordeal takes less than five seconds, Mark is already pulling you up and off of Johnny and starts spilling apologies through his laughter.

You brush him off as well as yourself with a soft “no harm done” and everyone went about their business, but Johnny suddenly seemed. . . off

So here you are, waiting behind the camera of the well-lit studio trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with Johnny, he keeps avoiding eye contact and shifting around in his seat.

The lights have caused a slight sheen of sweat to appear on your skin, and just as you go to wipe your brow you finally notice what made Johnny so uncomfortable.

The poor man has a boner.

And there's nothing he can do about it.

The situation is almost laughable until you happen to catch his eye and he sees you smirking.

You’ve never seen such a livid fire in someone’s eyes.

I’m absolutely and royally fucked.

The interview ended much too quickly in your opinion, you’re all ushered into the ‘backstage’ area.

As you’re gently wiping the makeup off Yuta’s face a very impatient Johnny hovers close by you.

Everyone packs up and leaves, you remain in the semi-lit room gathering all the little tools and brushes.

Hearing footsteps approach, your heart drops, you know exactly who it is, and how much trouble you’re in.

“Do you happen to remember what was said the last time we spoke?” He’s behind you, “Cause I remember a very clear warning was given to you.” Too afraid to turn around, you remain with feet frozen and gently lift your head to catch his reflection in the mirror. Big mistake.

It never ceases to amaze you just how intimidating the usually sweet but large man is, especially when he’s looking at you like that.

Like he’s a hunter who has fatally cornered his prey, you.

A hot chill shoots through your body as you watch him approach your backside, trying to steady yourself as you grip the makeup table in front of you when he's finally close enough to touch you.

“You think you’re so slick don’t you?” Oh shit, he knows

He smirks as he continues with a taunting cadence in his voice “Think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been acting? Always standing closer to me than you do the others when you do our make up, always leaning further into me,” He presses himself against you pushing you roughly into the table with his own causing a sharp pain in your hip bones as he leans in closer dropping his tone “Wearing clothes that show just a little more skin, wearing a hint more perfume than normal. . . you really think you’d get away with that shit going unnoticed?”

And that’s just the thing, you wanted him to catch you.

His hands have begun to wander up to your hips and sides, tracing your shoulders, left hand going back to your waist as the other wraps itself into your hair tugging your head to the side, you make eye contact in the mirror and holy shit does he look delicious. He’s in a white shirt and jeans leftover from the interview, bare face and hair tousled.

And he’s looking at you like you're his favorite meal.

You’re all but gasping for breath at this point, he’s literally knocked the wind from your lungs.

And that’s when a scary thought strikes you. . . he’s hardly even touched you yet.

“Now tell me, pretty baby, did I not give you a very clear warning about what would happen if you didn't behave?”

Unable to nod with his hand holding your hair you whimper out a weak yes.

“And what did you do today that caused you this situation?”

He punctuates the last word with a knee coming in between your legs from behind, the action makes all the words you’ve ever learned flee from your brain.

“You should know better than to ignore me. . . but I’ll make it real clear for you just this once” He lets go of your hair and begins to roam with his fingertips, surprisingly gentle

“You left me painfully hard right before the interview.”

Fingers gripping your wrists he brings your hand back to start feeling his toned waist through the soft material of his shirt

“You just had to walk in looking like that today...had to let Mark push you right into me. . . just had to leave me hanging like nothing happened”

His teasing tone is too much, you have to keep stopping yourself from making any noise to not embarrass yourself.

He must notice your attempts at the silence and all it does is piss him off.

“Oh absolutely not baby, let me hear you.”

His hands release yours and one goes to your thigh while the other slips under your shirt caressing your stomach a little more firm than his touch was before, cold rings on his fingers cause a chill to run through you leaving goosebumps behind

He’s being assertive and maybe a little aggressive but you know if you told him to stop he would. He knows you want this as bad as he does, if not even a little more. You had been teasing him after all, you wanted to push all his buttons until he snapped.

“I’m a man of my word baby. It’s time for you to be put in your place and learn who’s boss.”

You begin to push back against his hips with your own, feeling the bulge starting in his pants is driving you wild, you want so bad to run your mouth and get smart with him, but his hands on your bare skin feel so damn good you can’t bring yourself to say anything, not trusting your voice to not come out as a whine.

“What did I say about letting me hear you, baby?”

He grips the thigh he’s holding tightly and finally starts to slip his hand under your bra giving you some relief from your ever-growing frustrations.

He begins to toy with your nipple and knead your breast while his other hand travels closer to where you need him most.

The action causes you to finally let out a soft but deep moan, you reach back and grip his hair while your eyes close, head falling back onto his toned chest

“Oh god. . . that’s it baby, loosen up a bit” He encourages your sounds with a harder grip on your breast and contact with the point between your legs.

He begins to rub you through your pants, the sounds spilling from your lips become more frequent

“Finally behaving and giving me what I want. . . Now be a good girl and tell me what it is you want from me huh?”

It takes all your willpower to reign yourself back in and attempt to speak despite him torturing you through your clothes like this.

You open your eyes and take in the sight of the two of you in the mirror. His hair is still being gripped by you, his eyes are on fire and he looks like it’s taking everything in him to hold back in case you change your mind.

But you finally have Johnny Suh with his hand up your shirt and down your pants offering you the night of your life, no way in hell you’re gonna tell him no.

You look back up into his eyes in the mirror while gripping his hair and wrist tighter

You challenge him with the most sultry tone you can muster “Johnny, I want you to ruin me, and show me who’s really in charge”

You can see in his eyes the exact moment he snaps while you speak, pupils blowing out and grip almost bruising he spins you around to face him.

He grips your jaw the way he did after you yelled at him, except instead of scolding you like he did then, he’s pressing his lips onto yours.

Moaning into his mouth you strain onto your tippy toes to match his ridiculous height, without much luck but neither of you was focusing on that at the moment.

He lifts you by the back of your thighs onto the makeup table, bringing a hand up to your chin again he tugs your jaw open to slip his tongue inside to run against your own.

And you’ll be damned if it isn’t the best thing you’ve ever felt, you vocalize this to him with another rather loud moan.

He leans back and you whine at the loss of contact as his long fingers find the bottom of your shirt.

“God baby you keep making noises like that and I can’t promise to control myself. . .”

He goes back in for another kiss as his hands make their way up your shirt again much to your relief.

“Then don’t. . .” The words are mumbled into Johnny’s mouth but he hears them nonetheless.

He lets out a rather dark chuckle at your attitude.

“Oh baby, you have some manners to learn” With that, he cocks his hand back and lands a loud but rather pain-free smack to the part of your thigh exposed by your high waisted shorts causing the muscles to clench on contact at the warning and a noise you didn’t know you could make left your mouth much to his delight.

He smooths over the afflicted skin with his large palms while whispering sweet sweet praises into your ear. Johnny gently lifts your shirt over your head, he begins trailing hot open-mouthed kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone and goddamn does it make you wet.

You can feel yourself get hotter the farther down his mouth travels and you feel like if he doesn’t quit teasing you with his lips and fingertips you're gonna explode

And this is when the whining starts “Johnny. . . please do something I’m gonna die” you curl your fingers back into his hair when he laughs at how desperate you sound.

“I love the way you sound when you whine my name baby.”

“I mean it, Johnny, I'm gonna die please do something, please” your begging seems to have done the trick cause now Johnny is on his knees in front of you still looking at you like you're his favorite meal.

“Lift your hips”

That definitely wasn’t a request and you are more than willing to comply. He slips your shorts down your legs (you barely register not knowing when he unbuttoned them) along with your now-soaked underwear, your thick scent sticking in the air.

He groans at the smell of your arousal and the sight of your soaked heat “Oh fuck baby look at you. . .” using both hands he spreads your legs farther causing your lips to part “Can’t believe we haven’t done this sooner”

And with that, he dives right into biting at your soft thighs causing the sweetest sound he’d ever heard to fall from your pretty lips and he knows he’s already addicted.

“Are you ready sweet baby?” You nod.

He slaps your thigh again but harder this time leaving a full outline of his long slender hand “Use your words, baby, be a good girl and answer me properly yeah?”

“Yes Johnny, yes I’m ready, please, please I’m ready” Not your most eloquent of sentences but it satisfies him to hear your smart mouth not be so smart anymore.

“Good girl. . .” That causes a shiver to run down your whole body “Aw does my baby like being told how good she is?”

You start to nod but remember that he wants words

“Yes dear god I love it. . .” you're honestly on the verge of tears by now, he’s been so close yet so far this whole time “Good girls get rewards, so behave.” He finally leans forward and delivers a soft lick to your sensitive clit and you don’t think you’ve ever moaned so loud in your whole life, you’ve been driven shameless by him and his mouth.

His hands hold your legs open as he works over you with his mouth, tongue applying just the right amount of friction and pressure to start pushing you to climax.

His name falls from your mouth like a prayer and it does nothing but boost his ego and drive him crazy, he’s so hard and trapped by his pants but he couldn’t care less when he finally has you on his tongue after months of secret pining and he isn’t gonna throw this chance away.

He wants to make sure you keep coming back again, and again, and maybe even agree to be his.. But you’ll have that talk later, right now your fingernails are grazing his scalp making him groan into you, sending vibrations up your core.

Waves of white-hot electricity crash over your body, thighs trembling and tears threatening to spill out of your eyes.

Johnny is by far the most talented man you’ve had between your legs and you're already almost about to cum, it’s so fast you’re almost embarrassed but you know that he’s doing it on purpose, proving a point to you about how you’ll now be ruined for anyone else. No one will be as good as him and you both know it.

You’re begging him to keep going but he takes it one step further by easing a slender finger into your beyond slick heat.

“Ahhh fuck. . .” He looks up at you and the sight mixed with his tongue and fingers almost does you in right there.

“Fuck Johnny, I’m so so close please, more please”

It’s official, he’s reduced you to nothing more than a begging, sobbing, mess.

He smirks into you while adding a third finger with the others,

“Johnnyyy”

“Yes?” He raises an eyebrow

“Can I please, please cum? I can’t hold it anymore please”

You weren’t sure why you were asking, it just seemed like something you should do.

And you were right.

“Since you asked so nicely” He picked up the pace in all the right ways that had you falling apart right there on top of the makeup table.

You tried to stay as quiet as possible but he made that very challenging, his fingers and tongue worked you through your high in the most perfect way possible, firm but not too much to make you overly sensitive, but he knew exactly what to do to make it last as long as possible.

You're a panting sweaty mess when he stands up

“Open” remembering what he said about good girls getting rewards you immediately obey, wanting to make him pleased with you.

He shoves his fingers into your mouth and you make a point to look directly into his eyes while you clean them with your mouth, leaving little to the imagination about what you'd be doing if it wasn't his fingers..

“Fuck baby..” He groans at the sight and feeling of you “Let's get out of here yeah?” He takes a half step back and wipes his hand on his jeans,

He picks up your shirt and hands it to you. You nod and slip the light fabric over your head.

Johnny gently lifts your chin to look at him and you aren't fully prepared for the softness in his eyes “You did so good baby, such a fast learner” Warmth spreads through you at this praise and you can't help but smile.

You gently slip off the table onto shaky legs and go to fix your shorts when Johnny does it for you, you mumble a soft thank you, still unsure of your voice and the state it's in.

Then he surprises you again by pulling you into a hug, it's comforting but firm. He wraps one arm around your shoulders and holds your head to his chest and strokes your hair with the other. You’re quick to hold him back, enjoying the warmth and comfort of the improvised aftercare.

“Wanna head back to my place?” You feel his chest softly rumble as he lets out a sweet laugh knowing the other option is the dorm “I’d love to”

He helps you pack up your things while making pleasant small talk, knowing a more serious conversation and more fun would be had once you get home.

You could both tell this was gonna be the start of something you both would quite enjoy.

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Thank you for reading!

Taglist - @flowerboykun @se-onghwa

#nct 127 johnny #johnny x reader #johnny suh #nct smut #nct johnny smut #johnny imagine #http-lovelyknow

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