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moonlinos · 3 months

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Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back.

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday.

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

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angelshadowsinger · 11 months

Note

oh my fucking god your work is incredible! holy literal shit balls i have never felt that entranced by a fanfiction until reading yours. thank u thank u thank u your azriel is PERFECT.

also i’m totally gonna need your thoughts on azriel sharing with his shadows 👀

re: ummmmmmm call me parmesan bc u got me CHEESIN!?!?!! that is literally sO sweet of you to say, i am touched 🥺 as a fic author you always worry if you’re making the character OOC and, it just makes me so happy to hear your praise!! thank you so much anon~ ♥︎ This HC is a bit more than what you’ve asked for, but it does includes it, so pls enjoy!

Azriel’s Shadows Around his Mate Headcanons

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･゜゜・．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡･゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

In my eyes, Azriel’s shadows are a part of him. There hasn’t been much insight that Maas has given us with shadowsingers and their capabilities in general, but this is what I choose to believe~

Since Azriel’s shadows were perhaps the first of his powers, and the first entity to treat him with some kindness/obedience, I think he would be very in tune with them and he himself would consider them a part of him. He has had over 500 years to develop his relationship with them and therefore, I believe once he found his mate, his shadows would be just as captivated with her as he himself.

Obviously, Azriel is a total simp for his girl (but that’s another hc in its own), so that means his shadows are too. Honestly, it could be viewed as annoying how often at least a few of his shadows are constantly at your side. He’s used to having them totally loyal to him, so now that he has to share them with you… well, it’s not really actually that cumbersome, because he knows that even when you two are apart, he’ll be sure to know if you need him/his help. Though he has a couple less to send out on his spymaster business, technically, the ones with you are acting as his spies anyway. Just, with a far more interesting and important subject.

His shadows do a variety of things for you, making your everyday life easier and more pleasant. Just as their master, the shadows like to give you princess treatment.

For example, they go out of their way to help you with mundane things. If you’re making dinner and a tomato rolls off the cutting board, they’re pushing it back to you. When you’re putting on a dress, they’re helping you with the zip and clasp. If you’re writing something and your pen runs out of ink, somehow they’ve procured a new one that matches your exact preferences.

Both Az and his shadows notice the small things. They take notes of your likes and dislikes, what makes you giggle, cry, or provides you comfort.

At times when he’s away for a long while, and you’re missing him, they will deliver small gifts to you. A couple flowers tied with twine, native to the strange lands he’s currently working in. A special spice he knows you love to use in the foods you share with him. An especially-delicious pastry made with your favorite fruit/flavor. Though the shadows themselves do not find you gifts, they are happy to deliver whatever Az requests they send.

They also will take anything you wish to send him. Whether he’s in another country, or simply training at the House of Wind with his brothers, his shadows will deliver your every gift. Most of the time it’s little sweets or a lunch you’ve packed. Sometimes when you’re feeling cheekier, a receipt from the lingerie store informing him of your latest purchase. If you’re really feeling brazen, sometimes the panties themselves. His shadows are perhaps happiest to carry those items, either to get into contact with them or to see their master’s red cheeks as he shoves them out of his brothers’ view.

His shadows are your caretaker when he is not with you. When you’ve fallen asleep staying up for your mate’s return from yet another mission, his shadows will tuck you under your favorite blanket, taking off your reading glasses and ensuring your spot in the open book on your lap is not lost. Az nearly melts when he comes back to the sight, you dead asleep on the couch in front of the blazing hearth, his shadows perched dutifully there, guarding you.

However, they grow attached to you and even when he is with you, they will not leave you alone unless he commands them.

Azriel likes to take full advantage of his time alone with you. There is nothing he finds more comfort and pleasure in than being in your embrace. Sometimes that’s hard to do, though, when his shadows steal away your attention, or beat him to helping you with the zip of your dress.

It’s a very endearing sight to see him get jealous of his own shadows. He’d have a scowl on his face as he glared at them, silently ordering them to leave your side so he could have you all to himself. The shadows would melt onto the floor, gloomy in a way, whisper once more around your ankle before they go off to fulfill their master’s instruction.

Most of the time, you manage to guilt your mate into letting a few of them come back. And as soon as he calls them, they appear and shoot right for you. Az rolls his eyes but of course he understands. How could they not fall in love with you?

Azriel is actually very good with sharing. This usually applies to you when his shadows are involved, though sometimes he just needs to be alone with you. Whether it’s to have his way with you or just to snuggle up and bask in his mate’s presence. When he needs time like that, he will have his shadows guard your quarters and they will do so without question— fiercely protecting the only two beings they care for.

~spicy hc’s begin ;)~

Most of the time, Azriel will take the lead in pleasuring you— as he should, as your mate— but he’s likely to let his shadows watch or join his efforts if they play a supporting role.

For example, his favorite thing is to be between your legs, feasting on your sweet cunt and making sure you know you are his, while his shadows hold you down so you can’t move an inch. This way, you have to take the pleasure in the exact way he desires, unable to greedily chase your high or buck your hips or push him away.

Usually he plays with you for a while like this, teasing you and edging you a handful of times before he’s ruthless, unstopping even after you’ve come. He does cease his ravishing after you’ve come again, only to ensure he doesn’t overstimulate you before he’s had a chance to fuck you like you both want.

His shadows are happy to shackle you and render you helpless to his onslaught of pleasure; they love hearing your wanton cries and will dry away any tears of pleasure that escape with a cool, ghostly caress.

Speaking of their caress, one of his favorite uses for them is to soothe your skin when he’s done marking it up. Meaning, after every spank or particularly hard bite, the shadows will rove over the irritated flesh, kissing you with their cooling tendrils.

Since the shadows are slightly cold, sending them to curl around your nipples while he fucks you from behind is also another favorite. The temperature-play heightens everything— especially when they move down your curves to tease at your clit or your ass, depending on your preference…

Sometimes he lets them fuck you as part of your foreplay— usually while you’re sucking his cock. He just loves the surprise that flickers in your eyes when you’re choking on the length of him deep in your throat, how your lashes flutter when that familiar cool touch tickles your inner thighs and pushes your wet panties aside, how your moan feels vibrating around him when they thrust inside of you. He savors how your rhythm gets thrown, how you struggle to continue when his shadows are running over every sensitive crevice of your most intimate parts.

On rarer occasions, Azriel will let the shadows have their way with you. He’d sit back in a comfortable, wing-friendly armchair, darkened hazel eyes drinking in every movement before him— you with your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, the darkness holding your legs spread and fondling every inch of you— cupping your tender breasts, tweaking those pert, hard nipples… stroking your face, your hair, your hips and thighs… flowing over your puffy clit, slipping between your dripping folds and even wandering inside of you, perhaps just as deep as Azriel’s cock could reach. He would jerk his leaking shaft at the sight before him, lip held prisoner in his feral snarl. He wouldn’t be able to last very long, the sight before him too much for him to keep his composure.

When you’re both spent and panting for breath, the shadows will run up and down your moistened back, taking away the heat that lingers there and helping to lull you to sleep.

Only when you’re unconscious do they return to Azriel, curling around his shoulders in thanks. They know they are lucky to be the sole creature/presence with which he shares his mate, and any time spent with you is valued payment for the many services they provide their master with.

#anon love #anons make angel blush (˘◡˘)#azriel x you #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader #acotar x you #acotar x reader #azriel smut #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel fic #azriel headcanons #azriel hcs #angelshadowsinger #my hcs #my work

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stairs-feooff · 1 year

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An Open Letter to White Emo Kids

When I was thirteen years old, I googled ‘how to be emo.’ The music, the aesthetics, the darkness of it all captivated me. There was transgression there, with boys in makeup and girls who weren’t ashamed to be bisexual. The online emo community on google plus (anyone else remember google plus? Just me?) took me in with open arms. I was allowed to be depressed, I didn’t have to hide my burgeoning sexuality or the starts of my struggle with depression, something I now know was caused by intense amounts of dysphoria and life in an abusive and queerphobic household.

Only, there was one problem. I wasn’t white.

Certainly, nobody would say they had an issue with me being Latino to my face. Most people in the scene genuinely believed they were not racist. After all, they loved Latino people, they thought the guys in Pierce the Veil were so hot. They appreciated the culture too, sombreros and maracas were the full extent of Mexican culture, right?

But to be emo, you had to be pale. I remember Onision saying that Black people couldn’t pull off emo, and while everyone I knew talked about how horrible he was for saying that, they all secretly believed it. The emo kids I knew stayed out of the sun, they wore long sleeves to stay whiter and some on the more goth side carried around parasols. It was just part of the gothic, to stay white and dead looking. I hid myself from the sun, my skin tanned quickly and well, we couldn’t have that.

Every guide on emo aesthetics emphasized stick straight hair. Every emo kid I knew reinforced that idea. I begged my mom for a relaxer, she refused. It was alright, I figured out how to damage my hair well enough on my own. Pete Wentz kept his hair straight, spent his time with a flat iron to press down the curls that made him inpalatable to white suburban teenagers. I could too. The burns, the split ends, the fact that my hair didn’t start to return to its natural texture until I cut several inches off this year, that was the sacrifice kids like me needed to take to come into the scene. If not, you would be made fun of. You’d be compared to Ray Toro, everyone’s favorite ‘princess fro fro.’ He was Puerto Rican, just like me. No one talked about that, beyond whispering it around like a dirty secret. No one acknowledged his pride in his country, mirrored by my own pride instilled in me from my mother. Every piece of him, every feature identifiable as nonwhite was sneered at. His hair, his nose, his lips, the white kids said he was the ugly one because of them. I was too, I suppose.

That was back in 2014. I remember it vividly, still.

Turn back the clock to the early 1980s. Dischord records has just signed seminal emo group, Rites of Spring. There is change in the humid Washington DC Summer air. A new genre would be born from it, branching from the existing hardcore movement. To say Dischord records created emo would be no exaggeration. Without them, the music all of us in the scene know and love would be nonexistent. Dischord was seminal in the scene, Dischord was also founded by Ian MacKeye, vocalist for Minor Threat and later, Fugazi.

Minor Threat is not emo in the tradional sense. Musically, it’s similar to punk and hardcore groups of the time, lacking the distinct musical flourishes of MacKeye’s later emo group, Fugazi. Still, Minor Threat helped shape the hardcore scene emo was born from and created the record label that signed Rites of Spring, the first emo band. Fugazi is legendary in first and second wave emo circles, influencing bands like Thursday. MacKeye’s stamp on emo is inescapable, even in the third wave. MacKeye also penned the song: Guilty of Being White.

Guilty of Being White is a minute of MacKeye complaining about systemic racism - or rather, being blamed for systemic racism. He’s sorry for being white, he’s so so sorry, don’t you feel sorry for him, a white man in the 1980s? Isn’t it horrible that white people are blamed for systemic inequality? Isn’t it horrible that he actually has to put work into allyship with people of color?

MacKeye says he never meant for the song to seem racist. Surely, the fact that it’s become a favorite of white power groups is a coincidence.

All that is to say, racism was baked into emo from the very beginning. The label that created the genre was founded by white men with very clear issues with racism, even if they did not see it that way. Pete Wentz flat ironing his Black hair and Tyler Joseph refusing to say he’s influenced by rap aren’t bugs unique to the third wave. Instead, they’re features of the genre.

Now, I’m not writing this to ‘cancel’ emo. I love emo dearly, I still consider myself emo. It, in every wave, is my favorite genre of music. Rites of Spring, Jawbreaker, My Chemical Romance, these bands have shaped my life like no other. Through emo I have met some of my best friends, white and nonwhite alike. Emo allowed me to express my gender and sexuality freely. Emo changed my life for the better, and it continues to do so. No, I am not writing this to cancel emo, whatever that means. Instead, it is because I love the genre so much that I feel the need to point out its flaws, its shielding and harboring of racism since Dischord herself began.

They say you should end essays like this with a call to action. Personally, I don’t know what I can say that hasn’t been reiterated a thousand times. Really, what am I supposed to say here? Stop being racist? I, like so many other people of color both in and out of the scene are tired of telling white people to do just that over and over. We are tired of seeing white people stop saying what isn’t acceptable anymore, not due to any sort of active unpacking of white supremacy on their part but simply out of a wish to not be ostracized. I am tired of going to emo spaces outside my friend groups and explaining to white thirty year olds what racism is, over and over and over again ad infinitum. I am tired of seeing white people try and take the lead on discussions of racism, whether it is to rapidly assert ‘im not racist but-‘ or to be on the opposite extreme, to jump the gun and form a dog-eat-dog circus, where the end goal is not to actually form a safe place for people of color but to prove how not racist they are. I am tired of watching white people jump on whatever they can to demonize people of color in the scene. I am tired of watching nuanced conversations about racism and complicitness in racism be overshadowed by people upset their pet white man isn’t going to kiss their other pet white man anymore. I am tired of watching children be called slurs.

Perhaps my frustration is coming loose. It’s hard to be in the middle of all this and not be frustrated. At this point, I am disillusioned. These conversations are seemingly brought up every month, and yet, there is no systemic change. All I can say is I hope that one day, emo becomes actively hostile to racism and racists. Perhaps being aware that racism has been integral to the scene since the beginning is a good place to start.

#*swings bat at hornets nest*

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marinlupin · 1 month

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give me your favorite marauders head cannons i need it heres mine

regulus’s hair was a lot like narcissa’s when he was younger when he was a boy he had blonde streaks in his hair, but when he was about 11 his hair went all black.

regulus has a grey eye and a blue eye

he’s autistic, but hides it

trans regulus has been roaming my mind and i love it.

james is latino and a really good cook curtsey of mama effie

when he’s angry he yells in spanish and only when he calms down you can understand him

james carries tampons/pads for regulus so he can just grab the bag and regulus can get it without asking.

james has adhd and anxiety, but with those it’s more physical actions like fiddling with a pen or wand and talking fast.

i love the head cannon of deaf remus tbh it’s really interesting to think about.

he is diagnosed as disabled so he has to use a cain everywhere because back problems and he gives out every once in awhile making him fall.

remus get’s grey hair early, but it’s not full out it’s like streaks.

remus has bpd and sirius and his friends make sure he takes his meds and knows his body language to help because he gets into fights easily.

sirius plays the drums to get his emotions stabilized and he always has his drum sticks on him to fiddle around.

to go with the deaf remus to get to know him more he learned sign language and always speaks up for him because remus is mute most of the time.

whether i get hate for this one idc i see him as genderfluid, but it’s more of subtle looks and like his actual face that makes him look it because it gives off a little confusion because his face is just both feminine and masculine and how he presents himself too.

demisexual sirius. yes you can thank crimson rivers for that one.

peter likes photography and likes to capture the world and the people he loves on film

his love language is definitely quality time to me and like he just silently does things for people

i feel like him and regulus could get along well as well

let me know if you want my headcannons for the girls! or just more in general

#marauders #ao3 author #jegulus #wolfstar #james potter #regulus black #remus lupin #marauders era #marauders fandom #dead gay witches #dead gay wizards #peter pettigrew #headcanon

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relax-and-read-on · 4 months

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I have not made made a generic hc post about the primarch in a LONG time. I miss it, and it's good for the warhammer tumblr ecosystem. So, without further waiting....

Primarch, and the absolutely shitty gifts they give each others for a White Elephants gift exchange

Roboute: A classic coffee mug (primarch sized!) Filled with sweets and a indestructible fancy fountain pen. The mug say "World Most Okay Dad" on it, and he joke that it apply to them all.

Lion: a stuffed bird. The number of eyes on it is vaguely unnerving. It's unclear wich way is the head suppose to go, and all agree that it's probably an awful mutant bird. Lion is too proud to admit that it's just a really shotty taxidermy he made himself.

Alpharius Omegon: They give a series of mysterious CD in blank case, wich is a very rare and hard to read format on most ship! It's the entire series of MLP:FiM, famous lost media in the 30th millenium.

Rogal: A thick, sturdy, and perfectly elegant multi bit screwdriver, with extra standard bits put in the handle. Give a proud presentation on it, explaining it's superior design and all it's ergonomic features. It's 45 min long.

Perturabo: it's a coupon that say "one (1) construction from me and my legion, free of complaining. Valid until the 31th millenium." It's the most popular gift of the night.

Corvus: slipper and kigurumi, all crow themed. They are *adorable*. Sadly, the size is a bit tight and vaguely indecent on the more muscular primarch.

Lorgar: a traditional colchian tea set, with hand dried craft teas! The set is beautiful, and the teas prove to be only mildly hallucinogenic.

Konrad: A very, VERY pretty embroidered set of throw pillow! They have delicate pattern of flower and nature imagery... And are made with human hair. Konrad is very proud of himself, and even more of the absolute bloody screaming his gift create when he explain it.

Sanguinius: put out by Konrad's gift, but he also made a pillow, but this one filled with his own feathers. Has surprising property against nightmare.

Vulkan: He was actually sweet, and brought homemade hot sauce, his mother's recipe! The problem is that the stuff is so strong, it's considered a dangerous chemical in most of the galaxy. Can be used as jet fuel.

Horus: Edible sexy underwear. Insist that whoever gets it has to wear it, and jokingly say that, if they are too shy, he can do a demonstration himself.

Mortarion: a succulent growing kit. Even his most dumbasses of brother should be able to keep a succulent alive, right? Doesn't mention that it's an highly invasive species that will colonise the entire ship of his poor victime.

Jaghatai: a foal. Yes, he carry a whole ass live animal to the gift exchange, and keep insisting that it's an appropriate gift. The horse is chewing on Magnus' hair.

Leman: Mad that he didn't think of bringing a puppy, but he has the most amazing looking collection of smoked salmon, caviar and preserved fish to offer.

Magnus: his patience is wearing thin, but he still offer a perfectly beautiful robe, that act as an honest to good mood ring and change color depending on the person's aura.

Fulgrim: A painting of himself! Wich is actually a joke, it's just a thin and hand painted decorative paper covering the true gift: a painting of all their family, together. Get called a try hard.

Ferrus: a collection of very pretty crystals and fossils! Wich he arranged in a chocolate box, and explain that those are his favorite flavors.

Angron: A punching bag that even *he* find durable. He made sure of it, by thoroughly testing it before giving it out, wich explain it's used appearance.

I know exactly who gets what..... Yall want to know in a part 2 ;)?

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anzulvr · 1 month

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୨୧ On Purpose Karma x (fem) Reader || Chapter: 03 ୨୧

Prev || 03 Café Talks || next

— "Hi, How can we help you today?"

As [Name] and Karma enter the Café, they're greeted by Isogai. Karma winces as the realization of Isogai working there hits him like a ton of bricks. He can't believe he forgot such an important detail.

It's not Isogai he's worried about, if Karma asked him to, he'd keep things a secret. The problem arises if another one of his classmates are here and it somehow spreads to the main campus or even worse- Korosensei, who is known for getting overly involved in other peoples relationships.

A few tables away Nagisa is attempting to back track, "Are you sure we should be here? Don't you think this is too intrusive even for us..?"

"Nagisa, do you realize how much dirt the sadist has on everyone? This is our chance to get back at him so don't wimp out now."

"I am not wimping out! I think If we asked he'd-"

Rio whisper-shouts "Wait look! They're here!"

Karma scans the area, just in case. He chose the café since it's usually quiet, much like today. The only people here were the usual older ladies doting on Isogai trying to set him up with their grandchildren, and an unusual group of people decked in all black and sunglasses. He thought maybe they were coming back from a funeral.

"[Name], you go get us a table I'll order everything."

Name nods, grateful she doesn't have to carry the pressure of that.

Isogai leads Karma over to the register, thinking now is probably the best shot he has to ask any questions.

"Didn't realize you and [Name] are friends."

"She's the only person I talked to when I was in A class, aside from Nagisa."

"Ah makes sense, should I go ask her what she want's?"

"It's okay, [Name] orders the same thing every time, [favorite food + drink]."

"What about you?"

"Surprise me."

Isogai sweat drops "Are you sure? What if you don't like what I pick?"

"I'm sure, thanks Isogai."

"Anytime, have fun with your date..?"

"You won't tell Korosensei about this right? You know how he gets."

"I won't tell him." Isogai feels guilty, Korosensei would find out about this whether he kept his mouth shut or not.

He was in a tough position, he didn't want to lie to Karma but he didn't want to out four of his classmates and his teacher that would hear anything he whispered.

༉‧₊˚.

"The pudding is so good!" Kayano exclaimed cheerily.

"We know Kayano, keep it down!" Rio hushed her as she took her sunglasses off.

"I think we should get out of here." Nagisa piped up

Rio laughs "Go ahead, Karma's going to see you walk right out."

After shutting him up she then addresses Korosensei's uninvited presence, "If you're going to be here make yourself useful, put the pen down."

"But this is where my inspiration is most flowing..."

"I can’t see anything from here! We should move closer." suggests Hinano,

"No need for that, our job here is done."

"But we haven't heard anything." Rio questioned

"Did you forget I have an advanced sense of hearing?" Korosensei proudly announces before he continues

"Karma confirmed to Isogai it's a date and asked him not to let me find out moments ago! I don't understand why he wouldn't want me to know but that's not the focus..."

Hinano replies "Makes sense, I wouldn't want you knowing if I were him either."

༉‧₊˚.

Karma grabbed [Names] phone out of her hand, she gave him a half hearted smile. "Who's more important? Me or your phone."

She laughed as she snatched it back

"Sorry, it's Asano. He's been texting me about an event the student council is working on."

"I didn't hear anything about an event."

"I didn't mention it? I've been so stressed out about it I haven't even had time to complain. It's a tutoring group like we usually have but this time we're planning out the lessons beforehand with actual lecture presentations."

"If it's stressful just let them do everything."

She smiled "No way- Asano is such a control freak I think he'd show up at my door if I ignored the messages!"

[Name] pressed her lips together, she'd been wanting to ask Karma something for while but hadn't found a good moment, she figured now was as good as it could get,

"Are you still planning to stay in End Class? I miss having classes with you."

"I miss that too but I like End class, it's not as bad as everyone makes it sound."

"You have to hike up a hill every morning and get judged every time you walk near the main campus. What makes you want to stay?"

"For one, there's no Asano"

She cracked a smile "Hey! There's also no me."

If he wanted to stay, that was his decision. No matter how many times she told herself this she continued to spiral thinking about how everyone in her life was seemingly growing distant.

The explosion of the moon was a nasty reminder that nothing was here to stay. Everything she had today could be gone by tomorrow.

She didn't have any friends other than Kaho, who's been too busy for her. They haven't hung out alone in weeks because of how caught up Kaho has been in her relationships. If Kaho can grow distant in such a short amount of time whats to say Karma won't.

The more name thinks about it the more her voice grows anxiously.

"You won't consider it? Your grades are perfect, as long as you stop fighting they'll want you back."

"And if I don't feel like going back?"

"This isn't just what you feel, You're one of the smartest students- I don't want to watch your work go down the drain over some stupid fights."

"Stupid? if everyone in the main campus wasn't so stuck up, and the teachers weren't so conniving then there wouldn't be problems."

"Don't be like that, I know you're helping people but what's stopping you from coming back? You don't miss me? Why am I the only one who cares about that?"

Her eyes water, but she keeps the tears from falling.

"I do care about that, what reason have I given you to believe I don't?”

"You aren't thinking of me. I'm starting to doubt you ever do!"

[Name] doesn't know what she's talking about. Everything he's doing for her. She doesn't know her life is on the line and if he left E-class he'd have no control on the outcome. The words fall out before he can backtrack,

"I'm thinking about your future! I'm trying to make things better for everyone!"

"Staying there has everything to do with everyone but me!"

He bites his tongue. He's going to say too much if he continues.

He cares alot more than she realizes. He feels so desperate to assassinate Koro sensei because if they don't it won't just be him dying, it'll be [Name]- and the rest of the world too.

She scoffed, "You're pushing me away, the same way you did Nagisa."

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, they realized someone was coming towards them.

"Karma, [Name]? Are you guys alright?" It was a familiar voice, concerned and hesitant.

"...sorry were we loud?" [Name's] anger fading into resignation.

Isogai sets their order down on the table,

"No, don't worry!" He smiles reassuringly, [Name] couldn't be sure if he was telling the truth or simply trying to not embarrass her.

"We're fine. [Names] just tired."

Karma takes a sip of the drink isogai picked "Matcha?"

Isogai nods with an awkward smile, he's not sure whether he should ignore the fact they were fighting a second ago or try helping, he decides they can fix it themselves.

"I'll leave you alone then, If you need anything else call me over!"

"Thank you Isogai."

Karma mimics her voice in the most exaggerated way "Thank you Isogaiii, don't leave yet Isogai!"

"I don't sound like that."

"You're right, you were smiling way more."

She scoffs in an attempt to hide her laugh, "You're so petty."

He shrugs, not able to deny it "Wanna try my drink?"

[Name] pulls his cup towards herself "I didn't know you liked Matcha."

"Me neither."

He noticed the confusion in her face as she furrowed her eyebrows but he ignored it wanting to get to the root of her problems before they re-escalated.

"[Name], I'm not replacing you or whatever else you've been telling yourself, but I'm set on staying in E-class."

"I know, but we haven't been seeing each other and you got new friends and it's getting to my head."

"If you want to be in the same class so badly just start failing until they throw you down with me."

[Name] deadpanned, her phone rang for the 5th time since they got there.

"Asano would probably stop annoying you too."

She knew he was kidding, but part of her was considering it.

"He wants me to meet with the rest of the council at the library in half an hour."

"Let's eat quickly then, we'll walk there together."

Twenty minutes later they picked up all their belongings getting ready to leave, when [Name] noticed a green haired girl nearly drooling at the sight of pudding options Isogai brought out from the back, she was hovered over the glass display- Nagisa was pulling her hand trying to get her back to their table.

Name pointed at the interaction "Karma, isn't that Nagisa with a girl over there?"

"Huh? Yeah- that's Kayano..." He trails off when he notices their strange outfit choices and it dawns on him. He looks over at the strange group from earlier and makes eye contact with Korosensei. He decides to hurry her out the door before she can catch wind of anything.

"[Name] let's go, you're going to be late."

"I want to say hi to Nagisa, and since when do you care about being on time?"

Dragging her out the door he says "Since today- let's hurry before Asano calls you again."

#ansatsu kyoushitsu #AkabaneOnPurpose #karma akabane #karma x reader #assassination classroom x reader #karma akabane x reader #akabane karma x reader #assassination classroom #assclass

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watermelonsugacry · 1 year

Note

Hii! I don't know if i didn't check properly if you had written it, but when is their weddingggggggg, are the 1d members invited or is it an intimate gathering!?!?!?! i need to knowwwww!

Forevermore

A/N: SINCE 2010 ficmas day 5! sorry for the super late post again, im so bad at this lovies 😅 but she's finally here and probably one of my most favorite chapters in YNrry's story!!

SUMMARY: YN and Harry finally (and secretly) tie the knot in her hometown surrounded by their closest friends and family on their anniversary. Here is where they reminisce a couple of Christmases back when they officially became a couple along with some unexpected circumstances. (8.7k)

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist // ficmas 2022 masterlist

"YN!" The couple looks up towards the front door to see a very excited Penny on the porch. The two bark out a laugh as they see the woman with her hands in the air, her hips shimmying from side to side before making her way down the porch steps. YN meets her step mum halfway and they join each other in a tight warm embrace.

After YN and Harry wrapped up their last shows of the year for their world tours, it was time to pack their things and fly over to Doncaster for their small, secret wedding. They’ve done their best acting work yet in keeping their engagement away from the public eye for almost a year and it was finally time to fulfill their promise to become husband and wife on their anniversary.

After some careful planning, the couple ultimately decided to have their wedding at the Tomlinson’s family home right in the backyard with a few selected guests outside of their immediate family members.

"Hey mum," YN mumbles into the older woman's shoulder.

"Oh, it's so good to see you, my baby," Penny reaches out, gripping Harry's wrist to pull him into the group hug as well. YN’s stepmum has so many wonderful and cheerful qualities about her but the one thing that Harry loves the most about the love of his life's mum is that she never fails to make someone feel so welcomed.

"Ugh, you're here. You both are finally here. And you mister," Penny pulls back to shove a playful finger at Harry's chest. "I haven't seen enough of you in a hot minute."

“Been a bit busy with work and everything but never too busy for you, Pen,” He gives the older woman a charming smile. Penny squeals and pinches at Harry’s cheek.

“Yeh too sweet, can’t get enough of you!” Penny hooks her arm through with her daughter's and walks back towards the grand house, "Harry leave those bags there in the car. I'll have Louis and the boys come out and help you with that so if I see you carry them inside I'll smack yeh. Come on!"

As they walk up the rest of the gravel driveway, Harry can't help but think back and reminisce on the night he took YN to his mum's house for Christmas almost four years ago in 2019.

...

Harry opens YN’s car door as she carefully tries to take off her seatbelt while simultaneously trying to keep a homemade cookies bag from toppling over.

While YN spent Christmas Eve/Louis’s birthday with the rest of the Tomlinson clan, aka her family, she couldn’t possibly deny Anne invitation to spend Christmas day with the Styles. It was a new experience for her spending this holiday away from her family, but she was more than happy to comply with her best friend’s mom’s wishes.

After spending two months in Malibu earlier in the year, and after having having a much needed talk with Harry about their feelings for one another, they’re still trying to navigate how to go through with their acts of devotion towards one another. As much as it hurt the both of them to end their relationship once more, they decided to do the healthy thing for once and focus on themselves and their mental health first before pouring out everything they have toward someone else.

It turns out that their crisp trepidation was too heavy to simply shake off so quickly.

Their friendship, however, could never be tossed aside.

When she closes her door with her hip, she can hear Harry close the backseat door and he holds the Christmas gifts they brought for the Styles family. Anne’s house reminded YN so much about her stepmum’s home: a tiny little cottage-like home with a vast amount of greenery surrounding the area. It instantly brings a smile on her face and makes her feel at home being away from home.

“Hey um,” YN looks up at Harry as they walk up his mother’s driveway. “I just want to say that I really appreciate you being here. I know you spend this time with your family so I just wanted to say that it means a lot that you’re here with me. You really didn’t have to.”

“Well, remember I’m only here for Anne,” YN jokingly reminds her friend.

“M’being serious though.”

“So am I.”

“YN,” Harry stops them as the reach the front door. Due to Harry's hands being full, she takes the liberty to reach out and ring the doorbell. “Look, before we go inside, there's something I need to tell you...”

“I’m all ears.”

“I-”

“YN!” Anne's voice breaks through the space and she’s instantly lighting up from the older woman’s energy. Anne wastes no time pulling her in for a hug while Harry is left hanging in nervousness. “Merry Christmas, hun.”

“Merry Christmas, Anne. It’s been so long,” YN says over her shoulder. She’s missed her so much more than she realized as she almost gets emotional at her embrace.

“Too long. It’s a crime that Harry doesn’t bring you along when he comes home,” The two women look over at Harry but YN notices how he quickly puts a smile on his face. She slightly furrows her eyebrows at his actions but before she can fully question him, Gemma comes out from the hallway and walks towards the three of them.

“Hey you,” Gemma immediately wraps her arms over YN’s shoulders.

“Hey Gem. How’ve you been?” The two of them sway quickly back and forth for a second before pulling away.

“Great now that you’re here. Hopefully my brother hasn’t been giving you much trouble,” Gemma says while nodding her head to Harry. When she looks back at Harry again, she sees his mum helping him with the gifts they brought. He looks up at her again as well and smiles a closed lipped smile, they kind where his dimples don’t dig into his cheeks in the way she likes.

What’s up with him?

“Never. Oh—” YN quickly remembers the big ziploc bag in her hand. “Me mum made cookies earlier today and she wasn’t gonna let me come over here without bringing you all some.”

“Aw, you all are too sweet. I love that pretty Penny to death,” Anne gushes as she takes the bag from her extended hand and beckens YN and her son to come further into the house. “Make yourself at home, YN. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the family and later we have some games we’re going to play. So bring your A-game, the Styles are very competitive—not like you don’t already know. Especially these two,” Anne points to her two children.

“Well m’not one for losing either, Annie, so they better have their guards up,” YN smirks and the two women pretend to be baffled before they all break out into chuckles. “And I will, thank you.”

When Anne and Gemma both walk and disappear further into the home, YN turns to Harry and begins to take off her shoes. “You alright, babe? You look a little pale,” She puts the back of her hand to Harry's forehead just to make sure. Harry shakes his head and softly grasps her hand in his.

“Yes...well maybe? I dunno, really,” He lets out a nervous chuckle and it only makes her more concerned. “I just need to let you know that—”

“Uncle Harry!” A little boy YN recognizes to be one of Harry’s few nephews comes running up to the two of them and Harry is quick to put a bright smile back on.

“Hey, look at you! You’re so big now,” Harry wraps his arms around the back of the boy’s legs and lifts him up. “You’re a full-fledged adult now, aren’t yeh? Look at that mustache on your lip. See that, babe?”

“Oh yeah,” YN plays along with Harry’s teasing. “Might need a trim soon, for sure.”

The young boy laughs when Harry wiggles his fingers under the little boy’s armpits before setting him down. Soon after, the little boy is dragging his uncle further into the house and into the living room announcing how he needs to show him all of the new toys Santa brought him last night. When Harry gives her a shrug of his shoulder with yet another tight-lipped smile as he gets whisked away, she’s left wondering what he needs to tell her so badly.

...

When Harry trails behind his fiancée and her mum inside the Tomlinson house, the sound of chatting and commotion fills the spacious living room instantly.

“Aunt YN!” A little carbon copy of Louis comes running to up YN and he tightly wraps his arms around her torso.

“Freddie! Aw you’re too big now, lad. Almost didn’t recognize yeh. How are you, little man?”

Harry happily looks on at how the Tomlinsons come up to hug and greet YN before they get to him. YN can’t help but coo when Lottie carries in her new baby, she does her secret handshakes with each of set of twins and warmly greets the older Tomlinson grandparents. As Harry finishes greeting Lottie’s boyfriend, he fondly looks at how her and Louis give each other a kiss on the cheek before staying in their embrace for a minute longer than she did for the others.

“Why didn’t no one tell me one of my favorite girls is finally here?” Anne quickly wraps her arms around YN as soon as she pulls away from her childhood best friend's hug.

“Should I be offended that my mum hugged my fiancée first and not me?” Harry hurtfully yet playfully asks his old band mate.

“Deeply,” Louis jokes before pulling him in for a hug, patting him heavily on the back. “S’good to see you, man. Ready for the big day?”

“He’s been ready since he was practically sixteen,” Gemma interrupts with a sassy smile. “He’s gonna have to blow the dust off the paper he wrote his vows on from how long ago her wrote them—hey!” His sister laughs when he gives a playful (yet very real) shove to her head.

...

The night has been a blast so far. The Styles family were much like Penny and the Tomlinson’s in how family is at the core of their lives. After getting introduced to the few family members she didn’t know, they quickly accept her like they’ve known her all their lives.

Harry can see just how naturally good she is at everything. She wins over the grumpy grandparents who only seem to smile once a year and now has them doubled over in laughter. She’s a fierce competitor at all of their family games and doesn’t hold back from her brutal skills as she goes head to head with him over a play of some guessing game. When it’s time to set the table, she’s quickly removing herself from her close spot next to Harry to help Anne with anything she needs.

“Well, she certainly seems like a lovely girl,” Gemma says lowly once she’s slid on over next to her brother. “Very companion worthy.” When she sees him start to pinch worriedly at his bottom lip, she gives him a sympathetic smile, “Still haven’t told her yet, huh?”

“No, and neither will you.”

“You’re gonna have to tell her, H. You have to tell one of them or else it’s just gonna blow up in your face,” His older sister reasons. She’s right, and he knows that she’s right.

“I will,” Harry lowers his voice when he sees YN and his mum come out of the kitchen with plates of food in their hands as they go about setting up the dining room table behind him.

It startles him when he feels two hands on his shoulders and he feels a smile creep onto his face when he feels the side of YN’s face press up against his, “Dinner is officially served. Come on, your mum wants you to sit next to her, and I want to sit next to you.”

With a squeeze of his shoulders, Harry feels giddiness zip through him at her comment and ignores the knowing look his older sister gives him as he gets up from the couch.

...

As everyone gets settled in—mums hustling in the kitchen, little ones running every which way, and the older children talking among themselves in the living room—Louis and YN take a moment to sit outside together away from all the chaos. The backyard was essentially all set for tomorrow. As the two sit on one of the couches of the spacious backyard, in front of them sits two sections of seats, a walkway in the middle and an altar made of branches awaits at the end. The arch of the altar is filled with white flowers.

The couple was thankful that the England weather was relatively warm this year as there was barely any snow in sight.

As the two stare out at the set up, YN lets out a sigh, wrapping her arms around her legs and fidgets with the butterfly ring on her finger, “This is kind of surreal, yeh know? Like, after all this time we’re finally gonna do this,” YN huff out a giggle. “Remember when Harry gave this ring a couple of Christmases ago? Feels like ages away."

Louis offers his cigarette to her and she shakes her head to decline.

“That’s around the time he told me he had a crush on you.”

YN snaps her head towards her childhood best friend, “Whot! He told all those years ago?”

“S’not like it was a secret. He practically kissed the ground you walked on. It was pretty fookin’ obvious, love. You know...eh never mind.” Louis shakes his head with a smile and brings the white stick back to his lips, taking a long drag.

“Oi! Y’can’t say that and then not say what you were going to say,” YN pushes at his shoulder.

“I dunno why I even brought it up. Don’t know if I should even tell yeh,” YN raises her hand as a threat to hit his shoulder and he slightly cowards back with his hands raised. “Oi, alright, alright. It’s not even a big deal.”

“Y’making it seem that way though. Y’got me all nervous.”

“Well,” Louis tilts his head back as he blows the smoke out from his lungs. He scratches his eyebrow with his thumb with a sigh, “He’d kill me if he knew I was telling yeh this but...y’mum wasn’t the only one he asked for a blessing to marry you.”

She furrows her eyebrows and tilts her head as she looks to her childhood best friend, her brother.

“Are...are you sayin’ that Harry asked you as well?”

Louis just gives her a small smile and silently nods down to himself, bringing his cigarette to his lips once more.

In the next second, her eyes begin to water at Harry’s gesture. The fact that he went the extra mile to ask her childhood best friend—the man who she sees as an older brother—if he had approval to become her husband makes the love she has for her fiancé grow more and more. She turns her head to look behind her and through the sliding doors that see into the kitchen.

Penny has Harry’s hands working on needing out a tough ball of cookie dough. He listens intently to her instructions as she pours various cookie toppings into different bowls. His own mum rummages around the kitchen as well, helping learn how to make her soon-to-be mother-in-law’s infamous chocolate chip cookies.

It seems as though Harry must not be kneading the dough fast enough as her mum comes up behind him and aids his hands into the mix. YN can’t hear it from being outside but Harry’s face says it all as he begins to laugh at the playful action. His eyes crinkle and his dimples pop out as he lifts his shoulders in a fit of giggles.

YN huff out a small laugh through her nose at the sight and she can’t stop the rogue tears that escape as she falls more in love with the man inside.

“M’happy for you, love,” When she turns her gaze back to Louis, he nods toward the house. “Harry he...he really loves you, YN. He’s gonna be a good husband. And if he isn’t, I’ll kick his arse.”

YN can’t help but let out a watery laugh, wiping under her eyes before snuggling under his extended arm, “I believe you.”

They both enjoy the quietness of the outdoors a little longer until they turn their heads to the sound of one of the doors sliding open.

“Auntie YN,” Freddie excitingly steps onto the porch, his cheeks turning pink by the second.

“Freddie, where’s yeh coat?” Louis scolds.

“Sorry daddy but Grandma Penny said it's time for you to come inside or, or else you’re going to get sick,” The little boy with his father's eyes quickly explains before scurrying off inside.

“You coming inside, Lou?” YN asks, still stuck to his side. He gives her shoulder a squeeze and throws the bud of his cigarette into the grass.

“Let’s go. Yeh know, you’re gonna be having to scold yeh own kids pretty soon.”

“One step at a time, Lou.”

...

It was safe to say that it’s been a good while since YN has had a home-cooked meal and Anne never fails to provide such delicious food—especially now as everyone feasts on their full plates. Harry’s mum sits at the head of the table, her two children sit in the next seats beside her and YN is seated happily next to Harry. As they all eat and chat away, YN puts a hand over her mouth to prevent food flying out from laughter at one of his uncle’s stories.

Throughout the dinner, her and Harry have been acting like they usually would any other time they’re together. Like when they were all sitting on the couch listening to funny (and embarrassing) stories about each family member, YN sat contently under the comfort of Harry’s arm draped over her shoulder. Or after a round of another guessing game, Harry takes her in his arms and gives her a spin after their team’s victory; boasting loudly and planting a friendly kiss on her cheek.

Or like now as YN’s giggly body subconsciously leans over to Harry, he doesn’t think twice about putting a hand on her knee, leaning further into her as he lets out a laugh of how own.

“And when I looked down, it was in my hand the entire time!” His uncle explains the ending to his amusing story and the table goes into another fit of laughter and chuckles. His aunt brings a clothed napkin to wipe under her eyes and playful smacks her husband’s shoulder.

When YN looks to her best friend, they both shake their heads as giggles and chuckles push past their lips. She gives him the smile that always makes his knees weak and he’s never been more thankful to be sitting down at the sight.

Anne looks over fondly to her son and YN next to her and can’t help but wave a hand excitedinly in front of her, “YN, dear. I’m so happy you came over for today. But you’ll have to excuse Uncle David over there, he’s a bit of a jokester.”

“Not at all,” YN dimisses with a reassuring wave of her hand. “My uncle Teddy is the same way. It’s nice to see that humorous uncles run in good families.”

It’s nearly impossible to not be in awe of the woman sitting next to him. She’s just so naturally good at everything, and much like her stepmum, she can always make a person feel welcomed, special even, with just one look.

“I’m just so happy that my son has finally brought his girlfriend over for Christmas,” Anne beams from her seat at the head of the table and YN’s fork squeaks against the china plate. Harry nearly chokes on the glass of wine in his hand and Gemma looks up at her the two across from her with wide eyes. The wind gets knocked out of YN as she failed to notice that he was seeing someone on the side, that she failed to notice the possible woman in the room...but another realization presses down on her chest.

She can feel her best friend tense up next to her and it all makes sense now: Harry didn’t tell his mum that they weren’t together anymore. Harry’s mum was referring to YN.

YN thinks quickly and instead of politely correcting his mum or throwing out all of the questions racing in her mind, she smiles softly at Anne and says, “Thank you for having me.” When she turns her gaze to Harry, he sees him give her an appreciative smile, “M’really grateful to be here with all of you. I’m a very lucky person today.”

“I’m the lucky one,” Harry comments truthfully. He’s so grateful to not only have his best friend over for such a memorable day but for her not exposing him to his entire family on Christmas day. He removes the hand on her knee to bring her hand to mouth to place a kiss on her knuckles and the table looks onto them fondly.

Before Anne can get all teary-eyed over the sight, she puts on a loving smile and announces for everyone to continue to eat up before the food gets cold. As everyone dives back into their own conversations and the room is filled with chatter and silverware claking again, Harry leans over to whisper in YN’s ear.

“Thank you.” YN gives her friend a warm smile like he’s telling her something loving, partly because she feels for him and partly because his mum hasn’t taken her eyes off of them yet, “I can explain.”

“Later,” YN whisper back, interlocking her hand with his. “In the meantime, is yeh nose alright? Looks like wine sky-rocketed out from there from the news," She giggles behind her own glass and Harry falls more in love with her with every passing second.

...

As the night before their wedding day comes to fruition, everyone in the house was sent promptly to bed to be ready for tomorrow—especially the bride-to-be. Penny, Anne, Gemma, and Lottie all shooed Harry away from his fiancé and made sure YN was tucked into bed as soon as possible as she needs her beauty sleep before the most important day of her life.

While Harry was shoved into a room of his own, he couldn’t stop tossing and turning. As excited as he is for the next day to arrive, he can’t seem to fall asleep without his love snuggled up next to him.

As the rest of the house is already in deep sleep, Harry pads his bare feet out of the guest room and makes his way into the kitchen. He knuckles at his eyes and reaches for the handle of the refrigerator.

“Not gettin’ cold feet are yeh?”

Harry nearly jumps out of his skin, quickly turning around to spot his fiancée sitting on top of the dining table. She holds back a laugh around the cookie in her mouth and he notices that she has a steaming mug sitting on the table by her hips.

“Of course not. Been waiting forever for this day, think m’just too excited to sleep,” He makes his way over to her to stand inbetween her swinging legs. “What are you doing up?”

“Same here. Too jittery to wait until tomorrow,” YN keeps her gaze on the mug next to her as she dunks her stepmum’s homemade cookie in the hot chocolate as she bashfully says her next words. “Plus, I couldn’t really fall asleep without you with me so...”

It’s hard for the two of them not to be reminiscent of always meeting up back in the kitchen: from their two month trip in Jamaica, while making his second album in Malibu, when they officially became a couple in 2019—it all seems a little full circle.

"Will you be a good bride-to-be to your soon-to-be husband and let me have a bite?" He nods toward the chunky cookie in her hand with a grin, ultimately deciding that he can't tease her for her sleep comment because it's the same reasons he's up. He leans forwards when she offers him some but scoffs when she swerves it out of the way at the last second and into her mouth.

When she finishes her chewing, he hushes her laugh by pressing his lips to hers. He pulls her in closer by gripping her hips and she happily cards her fingers through his hair. When teases his fingers under the waistband of her sleep shorts, she pulls away with a giggle.

"Harry, baby we can't here," She whispers into the air as he begins to nibble down the side of her neck.

"Why not?" He mumbles onto her skin and the sound of his boyish whinnying makes her smile.

"Because, quite literally, our closest family members are all currently sleeping under this roof. Me mum can walk in on us. Or your mum. Or Louis-"

"They will walk in on us if you don't hush up," Harry points out and it makes his dimples dig into his cheeks when she giggles softly. "Don't you want me, baby?"

"I want you," YN mumbles shyly and it has him quickly bringing his mouth to hers again. She pulls him closer with a tug of his hair and he groans against her, a noise that has her shushing him just the same way he did to her.

They try to keep as quiet as they possibly can but it turns difficult when they can't stop giggling and hushing each other. Especially how she has to dig her face into his shoulder when he tugs their shorts just low enough until her can push inside her or being shushed when he has to stop to move the steaming mug of hot chocolate to the seat. He tells her to be quiet through a chuckle when she goes to lay her back against the hardwood table and she lets out a string of giggles when the table starts to creek from their movements. Her laughs turn into quiet moans and whimpers when he begins to pound into her and he brings his hand over her mouth as they both come undone.

After busting out the disinfecting bottle and vigorously wiping down the table, Harry escorts her back to her room.

“What?” YN questions when he sees Harry give her a lovesick smile, the same kind of smile that begins to tug one on her own lips.

“This is our last night with you being my fiancée.”

She hums out in agreement. It’s at this moment that she realizes that the scary feeling in her tummy for tomorrow isn’t necessarily out of fear, but excitement. All this time she thought she might be second-guessing herself, making herself think that she wasn’t good enough for Harry, that he deserves someone better. But this gooey twist in her stomach is from how giddy she feels, about how much he loves her. He wants her to be his wife, no one else.

She can’t help herself from stepping forward, placing a hand on Harry’s chest to lean up on the balls of her feet to gently press her lips to his.

“Good night, my fiancé,” She mumbles against his lips.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to make you my wife.”

“Until tomorrow, my love.”

He reluctantly pulls himself away from her with a deep sigh, “I’ll be waiting at the altar.”

“I’ll meet yeh there.”

“Good night, lovie.”

“Good night.”

YN giggles at how neither one of them makes an effort to move from their spots.

“You love me?”

She barks out a laugh but quickly puts a hand over her mouth to muffle the contagious sound. He puts a warm hand over the one over her mouth while the other puts a finger to his lips, a dimpled smile already breaking out.

“I can’t stand you,” She teases in a whisper. “But of course I love you. Agree to marry you, didn’t I?”

“Damn right you did,” He boasts, walking backwards down the hall. “Good night, baby.”

“Night,” YN bites her bottom lip to tame her smile and leans her head on the door frame. Before she can get her hand on the door, another giggle comes tumbling past her lips when he quickly makes his way over to her again to give her a loving kiss. He brings her left hand to his mouth to plant a kiss to the ring her gave her before forcing himself down the hall to the guest room.

...

Harry had his explanation ready. It was all planned out a rehearsed to a T, but now as he stands before YN’s awaiting eyes in his mum’s kitchen the next day, he loses all the words he knows.

Yesterday was packed with activities and fun and laughter that it was hard not to pull her away from all that and explain himself. He couldn’t be the cause of her loosing her bright smile as they play another guessing game with his family. He couldn’t be the one to interrupt her laughter while they assembled gingerbread houses.

And the one time he actually had the chance to pull her off to the side, his little nephew pointed out that they were under the misletoe. All of his worrying thoughts came to a stop when she looked up at him with a shrug of her shoulders as his family all had their eyes excitingly locked on them. How could he even think to hesitate when she was so willing and pliable in his hands as he cups her face and presses his lips to hers—their first kiss since they’ve split up a couple of months ago. It was a short and sweet kiss for the sake of his family standing before them but how he wished they were the only ones in the room.

And there certainly was no way he was going to wake her after she falls asleep with her head on his shoulder as the older cousins sit around the living room to watch Christmas movies. When everyone begins to file out of the living room wishin him good night, all he can really do is carefully manuver her so she’s between him and the back of the couch and drap a blanket over the two of them. His heart and the warm feeling inside his chest only grows when she blindly reaches out for him, pulling him close and tucking her head in the crook of his neck.

Now in the cold light of day, Harry has to face the music and explain why his mum thinks the two are still together after already being months apart.

“It’s...look I,” Harry takes in a deep breath. It was already hard enough to proper gather his thoughts at the sight of her alone so it was extremely difficult now under the circumstances. “I didn’t mean to lead her onto to anything, I promise. She was so happy when we were actually together and, and when we broke up, telling her wasn’t necessarily the first thing on my mind. I meant to tell her soon enough and it completely didn’t come to mind that she still thought that way when she invited you over for Christmas. I appreciate you playing along and I’m forever in you debt because of that but, I will tell her. I will tell her today and as much as it will hurt her, I can’t imagine how hard all this is hurting you.”

Harry lets out a deep sigh. He had everything planned and it all came to bite him back in the worst way.

"Hurting me?" YN questions and he's taken back when she gently takes a hold of his chin so his gaze meets hers. "You've been doing the complete opposite. Yeah, this is all a little weird given the situation and I might have been caught off guard but...I miss you. I've missed you for...I honestly don't think I ever stopped missing you. I've been meaning to tell you that I'm ready to be with you, officially, but there never seemed like a good time. And I completely understand if you're not ready to be with me yet or don't want to be with me at all-"

YN is silenced by Harry stepping forwards, cupping her cheeks and pressing his lips to hers.

When he pulls back, he's met with her beautiful eyes that are glazed over in confusion.

"Don't want to be with you at all?" Harry asks in disbelief. "Of course I want to be with you. There's never a day that goes by without me wanting to be with you, YN. I'm ready, I've been ready. No more bullshit or back-and-forth or confusion. I want you, plain and simple."

"I want you, too," YN beams before pulling him back into her.

The two have gone back and forth between being together and not being together over the past two years but this time it feels different, it feels right.

"Well, good morning to you too."

Anne's voice instantly has them pulling apart and taking a step away from each other, like a couple of teenagers caught in an obscene act. Harry's mum smiles warmly at the couple as she goes towards the stove, "Tea, anyone?"

Harry and YN tuck their lips in and one glance at one another has them beaming in embarrassment.

...

"Baby, you have to stop pacing." Penny softly comments from her spot on the dining table as watches her daughter walk back and forth. YN hasn't stopped twisting at the ring on her finger. She's not doing it in contemplation or regretting her decision for this day, it's just a nervous habit she's done ever since she can remember.

"Knock, knock. I’ve got a special delivery from—” Louis peaks his head in from the curtained sliding glass doors and stops in his tracks at the sight of his childhood best friend—his little sister—in front of him.

YN stands before him in her mermaid-style wedding dress. The sleeves are off the shoulder and the length of her dress stops right at the bottom of her feet. Her veils trails behind her and cascades down her back and onto the ground. Her make-up is done naturally and her hair is down and clipped out of her face.

Tears threaten to escape his eyes but he sniffles them back as best he can, “Wow, YN. Yeh look...amazing.”

“I don’t really feel amazing,” YN continues her pacing, holding her hands in front of her stomach as she continues to twist her ring and push down on her fingers with her thumbs. “I dunno why I can’t stop my mind from racing. I’m happy, so fookin' happy right now, but I just can’t stay still and, and I feel all nervous and what if I trip and fall while I’m walking down the isle. This all feels so—”

“Hey, hey. Take a breath alright,” Louis quickly steps over to her and places gentle hands on her bare shoulders. He non-verbally instructs her to take in deep breaths with him: in through his nose and out through his mouth. “S’normal for to feel like this, love. You’re happy and you love him and that’s all that matters. But if you don’t want to go through with this either, I’ll start the car up and we can go down and grab a burger, alright? No one can say anything about it.”

After a couple of breathes, YN opens her eyes and flicker them back and forth between his.

“I, I want to see him. Like, if he can just tell me that it’s all alright, that this is all fine or to just hug him or something...”

“Well, I may not be able to give yeh that, but he did tell me to give you this,” Louis grabs a piece of paper from his inner suit jacket, YN carefully unfolds the paper and nearly cries at the sight of her fiancé’s hand writing.

Everything will be alright, my love. I can practically hear you pacing from the outside the house and please stop twisting at your ring or craking your fingers. Your hands will be in mine soon enough. I’ll be waiting at the altar. I love you so much it hurts. Harry x.

YN huffs out a laugh through her nose at how well he knows her. Harry wasn’t even told what she was doing, surely in hopes to not make him nervous but he knows her like the back of his hand. YN doesn’t even realize how her breathing as calmed down or how less jittery she feels from her anxiety earlier. She doesn’t even realize how big of a smile she has on her face until Louis takes her chin in between his fingers.

“She’s acting like he hung up the moon and stars by the way she’s smiling like that,” Louis jests and YN doesn’t even try her hand at a witty comeback.

“Thank you, Louis. I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for everything you’ve done for me,” She says sincerely. “From when I was a little girl till now, you’ve taken care of me and looked out for me like a big brother should. You mean the world to me and I love you very much.”

With a tight lipped smile, he pulls YN into his arms before she can see his eyes begin to tear up.

“There’s no need to thank meh. I’d gladly do it all over again if I had to.”

The three of them turn their attention to a knock on the sliding glass doors before Gemma steps in with an excited smile, "It’s time.”

...

YN can hear the infamous wedding music begin to play outside and she takes in a shaky breath. Penny puts a loving hand overher daughter's that are tightly gripping onto her bouquet and it instantly calms YN’s nerves.

“Ready, my baby?” She gives her daughter the warmest smile, the smile that’s engraved into YN’s memory ever since she was a little girl. Penny was the only woman her no-good of a father brought home that actually acknowledged baby YN. Penny gave up her free, hippie lifestyle for one of a mother’s and it was a decision, a promise, she continues to fulfill every passing day since. She has been the parent, the provider, and the support that YN needed and YN is forever grateful for the woman standing beside her.

Penny has been more than two parents combined and so after giving her mum a nod, the glass doors slide open and the two woman begin their walk down the isle.

As YN takes her steps down to the altar, she spots the familiar faces around the small number of seats.

She passes by Mitch and Sarah as she’s slightly bouncing their baby boy in her arms.

She passes by the Tomlinson girls—the family she grew up with and calls her own.

She passes some of Harry’s close family members and holds back a giggle when Uncle David gives her two thumbs up.

She passes by the empty seats that were reserved for her two other bandmates who “couldn't make the trip” (an obvious outcome that the couple forshadowed yet still sent out the invitations nonetheless) but she smiles warmly when she sees her favorite blond lad. Niall smiles brightly at her before looking down at his shoes in hopes for her not to see the way he starts to tear up.

She passes Anne and Gemma in the front row, both with loving looks lighting up their faces. Harry’s mum mouths that she looks so beautiful and puts a shaky hand over her heart.

She passes Louis as he watches her with his lips tucked to the side to help stop himself from blubbering like a baby. He has been so calm, cool and collected during all of this but actually seeing his baby sister walk down the isle in her white dress is hitting him like a ton of bricks.

And lastly, she sees Harry standing before her at the end of the altar dressed in a simple yet classic tux, red-nosed and teary-eyed at the sight of his bride. When he meets her gaze, he quickly knuckles away the tears before giving her her favorite dimpled smile. He takes in a deep breath, unable to hold back the sob that racks through his chest.

With glossy eyes, Penny plants a gentle kiss to her daughter’s cheek before reaching out to place YN’s hand in Harry’s. He gives the older woman a kiss on her cheek, as well as a reassuring nod of his head as a nonverbal way of saying that he has her. After stepping up to face one another, Penny takes her place on the other side of the front row and as the ceremony begins, she seats herself next to the empty chair reserved for Jay.

...

“YN,” The officiant turns his attention over to the bride. “You may now read your vows.”

After Gemma hands YN the small piece of paper, she looks up to see her groom give her an encouraging smile.

“Harry," YN takes a shaky breath in and her vision already gets blurry. "Shit. Oh! Fook, I'm sorry. Shit! Ahh wait!" She puts a hand over her mouth as the audience laughs at her antics. Harry’s shoulders shake up by his ears and the outer corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughs.

"I love you," he leans over to plant a kiss on her cheek.

He lets out another laugh when she gives him an uneasy look of disbelief.

"Harry,” She starts again. “I don’t think there are words good enough to describe how much how I love you. You’ve shown me so many things, taught me so much about not only in life, but of myself. Before you, I wasn’t a very touchy-feely person. Now, I cannot go a day without one of your hugs. Before you, I couldn’t stand to listen to stupid love songs. Now, I’m constantly writing them about you. Before you, my world was seen in sepia. Now I see colors I never knew existed. You’re truly me best friend, the love of me life, and my soulmate. You understand me more than anyone else, more than myself sometimes. I can’t believe the day has come when we finish with the constantly changing labels of our relationship and finally settle it with husband and wife. I’ll never get tired of saying how much I love you and I can’t wait to start my forever with you.”

As soon as she finishes reading off of her tiny piece of paper, Harry steps forwards, cups her cheeks and plants a kiss to her lips. A couple of the men in the audience wolf and whistle loudly while the women playfully jab at them to quiet down. YN can’t help but giggle against her love’s lips, gripping onto the hands on her cheek before having to pull away.

“Harry, you may read your vows now.”

After calming his boyish smile, he takes his own piece of paper out of the inner pocket of his blazer and with a deep breath in, he begins to read his scribbled words.

“YN, it feels like I’ve been waiting my entire life to marry you. I knew I wanted you in my life when I first saw you at a Battle of the Bands competition when we were merely fifteen years old but I knew I wanted us to be more when we were put in a band a year later. We’ve gone through so many ups and downs over the past 12 years, and while it may have been frustrating at times, you were and always will be worth the wait. You’re my best friend and I truly cannot express how excited and happy I am to start this new chapter in our lives together as not just bandmates, secret lovers, blurry lines or merely as my best friend, but as husband and wife. I have loved you since 2010, now and forevermore.”

...

“Do you, YN YLN, take Harry Styles to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” YN beams as she slides the wedding band onto Harry’s finger.

“Do you, Harry Styles, take YN YLN to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” Harry breathes out a smile, sliding the wedding band onto his love’s finger to finish off the last piece of their ceremony.

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Harry, you may now kiss your bride.”

Harry doesn’t waste another second before he cups her jaw and smushes his lips to hers. He wraps his other arm around her back and YN grips onto the front flaps of his tux, pulling him in incredibly close. He leans her back and he can feel her smile against his lips.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I now present to you for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Styles!”

...

“I dunno, H,” YN says, fidgeting with the rings on her fingers. Now that the two can confidently state that they’re officially together now, she’s scared that their relationship will be seen in the public eye. She knows that when they first started their on-and-off relationship two years ago, they kept it very low-key around their friends, in the studio and only later started to show PDA, but only to their close friends. They’ve managed to dodge past the questions and comments about them being an item for years but this was different. They’re officially a couple now.

The idea of going to a new year’s eve party and the fear of someone taking a picture of them while really doing anything can start a massive misunderstanding in their fandoms. The fans just knew.

“Jonny says that the people he invited were cool, only a handful of close friends,” It’s nice to know that Harry was also on board with keeping their relationship in the shadows. They’re very private people and keeping their personal lives out of the lights is something that they would like to keep. Harry grabs her fidgeting hands and holds them to his chest. “I think we deserve to enjoy more of our holiday before it’s over, don’t y’think?”

His words begin to process in her head as he clutches their hands together. His head bends down to kiss her knuckles, his thumb rubbing over the butterfly ring he gave her a couple of Christmases ago, and it almost made her knees give out. His head bobs a little as he moves to kiss each one. He lifts his eyes slightly to meet hers and she sighs deeply knowing he won.

“As long as I can kiss you whenever I want during the party then maybe it won’t be so bad,” She says, trying to fight the smile that creeps on her face. She’s still very paranoid about the party, but seeing Harry’s face light up at the sound of her agreeing was all it took for her to relax.

Harry cups her face in his large hands and pressed his lips to hers. She instantly reacts by putting her hands on his waist and turning her head to the side to deepen the kiss.

This feels right, it feels safe. Now that she’s told him what’s on her mind about their relationship, it’s as if everything seems too good to be true. She feels as if their new relationship is now stronger than whatever they had in the past with them both clear about their intentions, mentally in a better place, and their love for one another already well established.

Harry gently pushes her back until her back is touching the counter. As she feels his tongue slip past her lips, she grips the material of his hoodie around his waist in a silent plea for more.

“Let the girl breathe, will yeh,” Gemma's voice breaks their kiss.

YN feels the blood rush up to her face and she covers her face in Harry's chest. She feels his arms wrap around her shoulders and his chest vibrates as he laughs. YN hopes it's directed toward his sister rather than her red face.

“Oi, you’re just pissed that your boyfriend doesn’t show you the same affection anymore,” Harry says to his older sister.

“Bogger off,” Gemma says with a laugh. “When you’re finished with your little snog fest can you please send her over to the living room. I’m currently losing charades to a seven year old and she’s my lucky charm.”

“I’ll be there,” YN’s voice comes out muffled from being pressed against Harry's chest. Gemma gives Harry a nod and once he gives her one back in reassurance, she spins on her heel and exits the kitchen. "Why does this always happen?" YN asks with a shake of her head, confused about how they continue to get interrupted by their family members and it only makes a laugh tumble past Harry's lips.

...

The married couple sits side-by-side at the end of the long table set up in the backyard. Their mums sit on either side of their children while the rest of the family and friends sit down the line. Fairy lights blanket over the yard and it provides the most beautiful light over the small party celebration.

As the table is filled with the sound of chatter as everyone finishes up the pre-made home cooked meal, Harry has his arm draped over the back of YN’s chair where he’ll constantly lean over to her to whisper something in her ear or where she’ll ask to see his left hand again and hold it against hers to see their matching rings.

Louis gives Gemma a nod across from his spot on the table before standing up from his seat, clearing his throat as he taps a knife against his glass of champagne. The chatter begins to die down and soon enough everyone joins in on tapping their glass.

"This should be interesting," Harry whispers to his bride's ear and smiles when she lets out a giggle.

"Ello everyone. For the people who don't know, m'Louis—" Everyone chuckles since the only people invited were family members and close friends. Penny gives a smack to his arm before he continues. "As the best man, I'd like to give a little toast dedicated to the bride and groom. I've known Harry for over a decade and YN since she was practically in diapers. YN, you're like me little sister than anything. As annoying and frustrating as you can be sometimes—" The table laughs and YN has to resist from flipping off her childhood best friend. "—I love you so very much. Harry, I've witnessed more than anyone here how stupidly in love you are with YN. The amount of times I’ve watched these two idiots deny and hide their love from one another during our time in One Direction was truly excruciating to watch. Niall here can back me up on that. It’s that true, Nialler?” Louis lifts his glass towards their blonde friend who quickly nods his head and making the rest of the guests laugh.

“It was painful,” Niall agrees, leaning over to look at the marriage couple. “It even hurt me sometimes, you know?”

YN playfully rolls her eyes with a smile sitting on her lips while her husband pinches at his lips to keep his embarrassed smile at bay.

“But in all seriousness, seeing first hand how these two and fought and clawed their way through all the shit—” Penny smacks his arm once again at his vulgar language. “Sorry, sorry. Through all the obstacles that have thrown their way, their love prevailed through it all. Harry, I know you'll take good care of my sister...even if she stubbornly claims she doesn't need taking care of.”

The couple’s friends and family all make noises in agreement which makes YN playfully scoff at how fast and willing they all agreed.

“I wish you lot the best and a very happy life together. To the bride and groom."

As everyone lifts their glass in the air, YN can’t help but give Louis a weary smile before blowing him a kiss and mouths that she loves him too.

"Alright, as the maid of honor, I also want to give a toast," Gemma is next to stand. "YN, I've always seen you as a sister and I'm so happy that it's officially offical. I feel that I shouldn’t really welcome you into the family because you’ve always been apart of the Styles family for as long as we’ve known you. Harry, my baby brother," Gemma tilts her head to the side, putting a hand over chest with her lips tucked inwards in hopes to tame her tears. "I'm so proud of all you've accomplished but I'm most happy that you've found your soulmate. You guys were truly made for one another and I could not imagine a more perfect couple."

Harry leans his head towards YN’s and the rest their temples against one another, closing their eyes for a second to live in the incredible bliss they both feel.

With a quick wipe to her watery cheeks, Gemma smiles and lifts up her glass, "You guys are going to continue to have a wonderful life together and yes, I’m calling dibs to be your baby’s godmother whenever the time comes.”

“Oi! Yeh can’t do that,” Louis defends. “That’s for them to pick. And it was gonna be me anyways.”

“I think it’s only fair we get to be the godparents since they’re the godparents of our little one,” Sarah pipes up from the side of the table.

“And what am I?” Niall raises his hands. “A roach?”

As the table begin to get rowdy, Harry waves his hands up while YN just holds her stomach as it begins to hurt from laughing so hard.

“Hey, woah!” He sliences the group. “We just got married, people. We’re not even pregnant. We’re not pregnant, right?” Harry asks his love and it only makes her laugh harder.

“No, no we’re not,” YN pressed the sides of her index fingers under her eyes from the giggly tears that managed to escape. “Oh my word, that was awesome. Gemma, please continue on with your toast before I bust at the seam.”

“As I was saying, we are all so happy for the two of you. You two will have a very happy together. To YN and Harry."

"To YN and Harry!"

"And without further ado, I'd like to invite you two to the dance floor to present your first dance as husband and wife."

And with that, Harry takes his wife’s hand in his as he leads her to the small designated dance area behind their table.

With a click on Gemma’s phone, A Sunday Kind Of Love by Etta James begins to play out of the speakers somewhere behind them and everyone begins to gather around the small area. Their guests pull out their phones to capture the special moment but Harry pays no mind to them as he gently tugs her into him.

YN pulls him incredibly close to her, wrapping her arms tightly around the tops of his shoulders. Harry fully pulls her into him so that there is no space left between them. He digs his face into the crook of her neck and his blunt fingers press into the skin on her shoulders as they gently sway.

All else seems to fade away and it’s just the two of them together as they dance. It all seems so unreal, swaying with Harry—her husband—on their wedding day. Harry’s words the night before were unbelievably true in that he’s been waiting forever to marry this woman.

Like he needs to make sure he isn’t dreaming, he pulls his face from her neck and sure enough, his breath is knocked out of his chest at the sight of her looking up at him like that, with her bright eyes and golden smile. He can’t help himself from leaning down to capture her lips with his, although a little difficult after a while as they can’t keep their smiles at bay any longer.

After all the rollercoaster they’ve been on for the past twelve years, it seemed like this day would never come to be. Yet, as Harry mentioned in his vows, she was well worth the wait as he holds YN—his wife—in his arms.

Thankfully he will never have to let her go as he gets to have her forevermore.

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sorchathered · 2 months

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Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 6

A/N- sorry I’ve been so behind lately guys! Life has been kicking my ass and writers block has reared its ugly head. But I’m finally here, we are going to do a couple of time jumps in the future but if you’ve read Lover you know we have a happy ending, so don’t worry!

Summary- Jake and Stormy hadn’t seen each other in a month, finally a long weekend sees our lovers reunited, but not everything is smooth sailing.

Warnings- Drinking, language, a little bit of violence, smut (save a horse, ride cowboy Jake 🤠). Minors DNI.

Song inspo- “I miss you”- Adele

Pairing- Jake Seresin x reader (oc Stormy)

It had been nearly a month since you’d seen Jake, your perfect week in San Diego heavy on your mind as you packed your bag for the holiday weekend. The two of you had been swamped with work but every available hour of free time was spent on FaceTime, most nights falling asleep together through the phone.

Stepping out of the airport brought it all back, sometimes you still couldn’t believe he was really yours, especially when he was scooping you into his arms and carrying you bridal style to his truck, giggles pouring from your lips at his need to be touching you at all times.

He’d missed you so damn much, he’d barely made it in the door before he’d taken you up against the wall (you knew that sundress had been a good idea) and then again in the shower before you both finally collapsed in the sheets of his California king bed he’d let you pick out before you went back to Florida.

Waking up to him would always be your favorite thing, he looked so at peace and almost boyish in the mornings it made your heart clench as your eyes took him in. Heavy body half slung over yours, perfect hair in complete disarray as he let out little snores (that he vehemently denied were a thing).

You’d spent the day at the beach catching up with the daggers and getting all the hot gossip from Phoenix and Bob’s wife Ellie. Rooster had been relocated to the Golden Warriors due to an altercation he’d had with Jake on your last visit, he and Mirage were apparently working on a relationship and she was still very much pregnant. You had ripped him to shreds before you left and hoped he would get his shit together so it was refreshing to hear that he at least seemed to be trying for his future child. Ellie also spilled the beans that she and Bob’s newest baby would be a little girl, their very first and you had to laugh and say a silent prayer for her 3 big brothers, sweet little thing would no doubt be spoiled rotten.

—————————————————————-

Dinner and drinks at the Hard Deck were a must, you never thought you’d be so nostalgic for one of Penny’s greasy cheeseburgers and a night of pool with your friends. You offered to grab the next round of beers, copping a feel of your super hot boyfriend as you passed, truly the man had no right to look this good. It made it more and more difficult to leave San Diego being in his orbit, he’d clearly been spending way more time in the gym without you around and it definitely showed, you were pretty sure one wrong move would split the sleeves of his button up from the swell of his biceps and it had you hot and bothered already.

Penny rang up your beers as you two chatted and got caught up, but you noticed a concerned look from her in the direction of your group that had you craning your neck to see the issue. You’d barely been gone 5 minutes and already two of the little tag chasers that frequented the bar every weekend were crowding Jake and Javy, barely there tops and cut off shorts leaving very little to the imagination as you caught one of the girls place her hand on Jake’s chest.

“Hey no fighting in my bar Stormy, you know the rules” Penny said with a gentle hand on yours, she should practically see the steam billowing from your ears as you took the scene in.

“I know the rules Pen, I promise to be sweet as pie” you scooped up the beers and gave her a wink, she groaned and facepalmed as she mentally prepared herself for what you had in store for those poor unsuspecting idiots.

Natasha caught your eye as you placed the beers on the table, probably a little rougher than was necessary and she tried to catch your arm but you easily slipped from her grasp as you looped through the crowd of your friends. Jake looked a little panicked when he saw your face, he had tried to warn them off that his girlfriend was here and he wasn’t the least bit interested but these girls were persistent, one had even gone so far as to suggest you could come home with them and watch and Javy had to stop himself from laughing directly in her face. You didn’t share and you certainly didn’t take kindly to someone trying to touch your man, so when you’d crossed the threshold to the pool table everyone seemed to stop what they were doing, very interested in seeing where this situation would go.

One of the girls had her hand on Jake’s bicep as he was trying to let her know his girlfriend was behind her, as she whipped around to say something snarky but it all died in her throat when you grasped a handful of her hair and yanked her backwards.

“Didn’t your mama ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?” You said as you pushed her towards her friend, both of them stumbling backwards in their ridiculous stilettos.

“Look honey I get that you think you’re something special but your “boyfriend” isn’t the relationship type, he’s told me so before several times after we’ve hooked up so I-“

She didn’t get very far before you lunged at her, it took Jake, Javy and Mickey to hold you back as the bell rang out from the bar. You hadn’t hurt anyone yet but Penny decided it was best to send both girls packing before she had to call a coroner to collect them. You were fuming, once they’d been sent overboard the boys let you go, you smacked all of them on the arms as you wrenched yourself from their grasp, stomping out the back exit with your middle finger in their general direction. Jake was on your heels with a promise that he’d keep you from hunting them down, catching you just as you slammed your fist into the weathered wood of the building.

He grabbed your hand before you could do anymore damage and you half wanted to rip his head off, looking every bit your callsign with the storm raging in your eyes.

“Baby, come on, look at me please? Don’t worry about those girls, you know they don’t mean shit to me…right?” He suddenly looked very worried at the thought that you might not believe him. “You do know that don’t you?”

You swiped the tears from your eyes before you could get more emotional and let him pull you into his arms, you weren’t really pissed at him and deep down he knew that. “Of course I do Jake, you’ve never lied to me, it's just still new with us, sometimes I forget just how many of these girls have been one night stands, I’d be lying if it doesn’t make me feel a little jealous. I feel like I need to keep you locked up in the house, it should be illegal for you to look this good.”

He throws his head back and laughs at that, but you’re serious. He’s yours now and you want everyone to know that the only girl Hangman is taking home is you.

You slide your hand across the back of his scalp and give a sharp tug, making his eyes fly open as he tries to stifle a moan.

“Does it look like I’m joking Seresin? You want to swagger around here in your half buttoned shirt and slutty jeans, getting me all hot and bothered? You like making me jealous? Maybe we need to go home so I can show you who you belong to since you seem to have forgotten.”

His pupils are blown and irises nearly nonexistent, you can feel him hot and hard pressed against your thigh, you know this side of you has got him right where you want him.

“You just say the word sugar and we can head home, I’ll even get on my knees and beg you to forgive me.” He says a little shakily, he’s not at all used to someone else being in control but damn he wants to see where you take this, it may be the hottest thing he’s ever seen watching you be dominant and a little mean to him. He’d fuck you right on the pool table in front of everyone right now if you asked, he’s starting to worry the two of you might not make it home without him taking you.

It didn’t take much convincing to leave the group shortly after, you were still angry and Jake was definitely too turned on by it to continue playing pool. You barely said a word on the ride home, and didn’t give him the chance to open your door as you marched into his house, disappearing down the hallway to the bedroom. He shook his head and chuckled a little, it was hard to take you seriously when he knew the end result would be the two of you fucking but he had no idea what you had in store.

——————————————————————

You’d planned on making this weekend a little adventurous anyways but now you were angry and determined, overcome with the need to be in charge. So when Jake stepped into your space seeing you stripped down to your lingerie you refused to let him touch you, swatting his hands away and pushing him towards the mattress.

“C’mon baby you aren’t still mad are you?” Jake huffed as you took both his hands and bound them with the rope you’d originally brought for him to use on you.

“You promised you’d beg for forgiveness Jakey, so that’s exactly what’s gonna happen. No touching, no cumming until I say so, by the time I’m done with you I’ll have you a ruined mess. How’s that sound?” You were eyeing him with curiosity, you’d always let him take the lead in bed but you had a feeling he would like this more than he had ever let on. You definitely weren’t disappointed as you saw his eyes darken, he was practically salivating at your words and you hadn’t even touched him yet. Grasping his chin between your fingers you hovered your lips against his, every time he leaned forward you pulled back and by the third time he was whining, you knew he’d be putty in your hands but this was better than you’d expected.

“Baby I-I’ll do whatever you want, fuck just-just kiss me please and then you can string me up six ways to Sunday, I’ll be good I promise.” He had the cutest little pout going and you couldn’t help but lean in and give him what he wanted, running your hands through his golden hair and licking into his mouth as he tried to scoot closer to you, poor thing probably didn’t even realize he was doing it until you stepped away from him completely soaking in his pink cheeks and glazed eyes.

“Alright sweet boy, you got your kisses. Sit still and be good, promise I’ll make it worth your while. I need you to tell me if it’s too much though, ok?” You lean in to press kisses to his forehead as he nodded enthusiastically and you try to stifle a laugh, he’s like a damn puppy just trying to get your attention.

“Alright baby, lay back. Think I might give you something you’ve been asking for first, gonna let me ride your pretty face? How’s that sound?”

He scoots to the headboard as fast as he possibly can with his hands tied, gazing up at you as you remove your skimpy underwear and climb up his body, pressing kisses and nips to his skin and oh you might just be hooked on all the little noises he’s making. Finally settled above his face he gives you that million dollar grin you love so much, and licks from your entrance to your clit, testing the waters as he goes through all the little tricks that have proven to have you a moaning mess, the room filling with sounds of you both and the lewd wet noises as Jake ate at you like a starved man. Once he’d sent you over the edge, white knuckling the headboard as you cried out for him you felt a little more at ease, but you wanted more. He had a bit of a kink for edging you and you’d always wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine, so you climbed off of him with jelly legs and splayed your naked body on top of his, pressing his tied wrists above his head as you tasted yourself on his tongue and ground your obscenely wet pussy all over his clothed cock, he was hard as a rock bucking up into you at the delicious friction. Pulling him from his briefs caused him to hiss into your mouth, and you pulled back to nip at his jaw, seeking out the spot on his neck that was most sensitive.

“Oh fuck, baby come on now, you can’t just tease me like this forever- Jesus Christ-“

You’d found the spot evidently, that combined with you grinding yourself across his erection, letting your clit bump against the head as he flexed his hands against the rope. “Shhhh, let me have my fun baby, ohh ohhh it feels so good, shit you feel so fucking good” you were close again already and Jake was losing his mind, in reality he could get out of these knots fairly easily but he’d promised to be good, maybe he had a death wish but saying underneath you like this would be a damn good way to go. He felt himself getting close, you could tell he was nearly there when you wrenched yourself away from him and watched the look of shock cross him as the neediest whine you’d ever heard came from your big hulking boyfriend.

He was leaking like a damn faucet in your hand, tip angry red while his chest heaved, an artist couldn’t begin to try and sculpt how gorgeous he looked to you, your mouthy over the top man was quickly being reduced to a puddle and you were thrilled with the result. You proceeded to play with him and back off two more times with your hands and mouth before he was thrashing his head back and forth, a sob bubbling up from his chest.

“Please-please baby I can’t anymore you win, next girl that comes near me is gonna know I’m yours before she even gets close enough, f-fuck shit I can’t- love you so fucking much”

You laved your tongue over the head of his cock and batted your eyelashes, you definitely got the appeal now as you took in his sweaty form, poor Hangman; reduced to near tears in under an hour just from his sweet little girlfriend, if you were honest you enjoyed it a little too much. Sliding back up his body you removed the ropes, kissing at his wrists and he sighed in relief, he kept his hands to himself as he waited to see if you’d give him what he needed.

“Go ahead Jakey, take what you want baby I’m all yours.”

He flipped you both over immediately, sucking on your tongue as he slammed into you, loud moans and harsh slapping noises coming from your bodies as he sought out his release.

“Fuckin mean, toying with me like that sugar. You know you’re all I’ve wanted, think about this pretty pussy gripping me tight all fucking day, give anything to fuck you like this every night. Nobody makes me feel as good as you do- no one. Love you so goddamn much.”

Now he’s turned you into the moaning mess, playing with your clit as he fucked you hard, you were on the edge again he could feel you pulsing around him, pulling your face into his he sucked your bottom lip and came, desperately grinding up against him as you rode the aftershocks together.

You couldn’t believe what had come over you and you put your hands over your face and giggled. He laughed at how cute you looked and stole kisses, you both needed to get up and shower but these little moments were so scarce these days that he couldn’t help but stay put as long as you’d let him.

——————————————————————

Sunday morning was lazy lovemaking and breakfast in bed, before he finally had to help you pack up to head back to the airport. You’d been a bucket of tears the whole car ride, practically in his lap in the truck the second he’d parked.

“We got this baby” he’d said as he walked you to security, and your heart broke with every step you had to take to get on your plane. Once a month would never be enough, you both wanted a lifetime, it was time to make some changes.

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @roosterforme @pinkdaisies9285 @djs8891 @jessicab1991 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @mygyn @angelbabyyy99 @86laura11 @shanimallina87 @floydsglasses @jostan456 @kmc1989 @dempy @its-the-pilot @mrsevans90 @purelyfiction @nouis-bum

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x you #jake hangman smut #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman imagine #top gun hangman #top gun maverick fanfiction #sacred new beginnings #snb #Jake and Stormy

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ktwritesstuff · 1 year

Text

The Professor (Pedro Pascal smut inspired by SNL)

Title: The Professor Fandom: RPF: Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Pedro Pascal (professor of Latin American Studies) x Reader (bedraggled PhD candidate) Word Count: ~2000 Summary: As if that SNL skit wasn't going to launch a thousand smut fics... As always, lovingly beta-read by @bs-fangirl. Additional notes below the cut.

Notes: This is my first "real person fic," may God have mercy on my soul. Additionally, my Spanish is virtually non-existent; I've relied heavily on Google Translate and asking my coworkers questions on the sly, my apologies for any errors! As we all know, this is not a story about actual human Pedro Pascal, but the fictionalized version which lives rent free in our heads. And as proper fan girl culture dictates, we keep this shit locked down. But just in case:

This note is for actual human Pedro Pascal and Pedro Pascal only. I don't know why you would click "Read More" on a post clearly labeled "Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU" but if you have, I beg of you LOOK AWAY, SIR. LOOK AWAY. If you choose to proceed, I will not be responsible for any trauma you may suffer as a result. Thank you.

For everyone else, I give you:

The Professor

Professor Pedro Pascal was the head of the Latin American Studies department at your small college. You had never been in his classes as an undergrad–Latin American Fiction and Poetry, and a special seminar on the Magical Realism of Isabel Allende–but it was well known around campus that his family had fled Pinochet when he was a child, which granted him unsurprising street cred among your communist-leaning circle of friends. He had been appointed the interim director of the campus’s Literary Center–after his predecessor was ousted for exposing himself in a virtual meeting.

As the Center’s Graduate Assistant Director, it meant although he wasn’t technically your boss, you were suddenly spending an annoying amount of time working around the throngs of freshman girls who flocked to his office hours. You couldn’t really blame them. He was, if not an outright heartthrob, a reasonably good-looking college professor. A strong face, with a short, rugged beard, a striking Roman nose, and deep brown eyes with the most charming crow's feet. He had a lean physique, with a hint of softness at the belly, just this side of a “dad bod.”

His modest good looks combined with a cheerful disposition and a penchant for quoting the love poetry of Pablo Neruda were like catnip for liberal arts majors. And although you were a card-carrying bra-burning feminist, you weren’t entirely immune.

“Professor,” his office door was open, but you knocked on the frame.

Pedro looked up from the stack of resumes you had been sent to review before the selection panel for a new director.

“Coffee?”

“Mi angelita,” he sighed, rising from his desk to graciously accept the warm cup from your hands. “What time is the first candidate arriving?”

“Noon,” you said. “You, me, Dr. Monroe, the Provost, and Assistant Dean are sitting on the interview panel.”

Pedro looked at his watch.

“Shit,” he sighed. “I have Intro to Creative Writing at 9:30.”

“I’ll set up the conference room,” you said as he shoved his papers into his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder, still carrying the open mug as he raced down the stairs.

“Thank you, Angel. Thank you!”

It was a six month process to find a new director. Six months of staring across the conference table, chewing on the end of your pen, pretending not to be affected by the way he leaned in when you spoke and stroked his thumb across his lower lip in concentration. Or the obscene way he spread his legs in a comfortable chair while speaking with candidates in front of a panel of students.

And having to do it all over again when your first choice–a student favorite–declined the position, to stay in New Jersey of all things. You knew Pedro was relieved to have reached a conclusion; he didn’t care for the administrative duties or politics. He wanted to teach, to be with his students. You admired that about him, he appreciated your organizational skills (and the fact that when you made coffee it counted as a meal.) You worked well together, but now that was coming to an end.

It was past 9pm and you had already closed up the Literary Center for the night, but Pedro was still in his office, reviewing students’ papers.

“I’m done for the night, Professor,” you said. “Is there anything I can do to help you get out of here?”

“That depends,” he said, with a wry smile that had you convinced he was only half-kidding. “How’s your Spanish?”

“Hmm,” you said, stepping into the light of the desk lamp. “¿Dónde está la biblioteca? ¿Como estas? Bien, gracias. ¡Qué lluvia! And that’s all I’ve got.”

Pedro chuckled. “I’ve heard worse.”

“That and un tequila, por favor.”

“Tequila,” Pedro repeated, intrigued. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of Patron. “That I can help you with.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise.

“Professor,” you deadpanned. “I don’t know if you knew this, but alcohol is not permitted in academic buildings.”

"Lucky for me," he said, picking up the bottle. "I have tenure."

You laughed and Pedro laughed; you offered to run downstairs to retrieve a pair of glasses and a salt shaker from the kitchen while he finished grading papers in record speed.

“I worry about these kids,” Pedro said, three shots deep. “I do! The moment they hear something the least bit troubling, they refuse to engage with the material. Our world exists in shades of gray. They want things to be ideologically pure, when what they need is to learn to discern. To question. To decide!”

“I understand what you’re saying, Professor,” you said.

“Pedro, please,” he interrupted you. “Pedro.”

“Pedro,” you repeated. “I agree, but there’s no reason we need to elevate and spotlight the same tired canon of bigots, abusers, and dead white men year after year when there is so much more out there.”

Pedro downed another shot and pointed an accusing finger at you.

“Look who’s talking,” he said. “Your PhD is in Shakespeare Studies!”

“I know,” you laughed, pouring yourself another glass. “I know, I’m a terrible person.”

“You are not,” he said, suddenly serious. “You have an incredible mind and the most beautiful way of looking at the world.”

You felt languid and relaxed and warm. You liked the way Pedro looked at you. There was something undeniably romantic about getting drunk in the richly furnished office, with its leather armchairs and oak bookshelves, debating the merits of Nietzsche and bell hooks.

“Okay,” you broke the silence. “Okay, here’s a fun fact you can pass along to your successor. There are 3 prints signed by Allen Ginsberg in this building, and you can see them all from this desk.”

“There’s the one on the wall,” Pedro said, pointing to the framed portrait hanging above the bookshelf.

“Yes,” you said, rising from your chair and moving to the other side of the desk. “And there in the hallway, on the right, that's an excerpt from "Howl" they set in the printshop downstairs.”

You perched on the arm of his chair to get closer to his eye-level, pointing through the open door. You slipped, nearly falling into his lap and he placed a hand on your back to steady you. He smelled amazing, like old leather and warm spices.

“And there, in the stairwell, you can just make out the top of his head on that linotype,” you explained. “Do you see it?”

“I do.”

When you turned your head, Pedro was looking at you. Perhaps it was the tequila, but you were almost certain he was staring at your lips, his eyes heavily lidded, smiling lazily.

“You look tired,” you warned. You should have gotten up to leave, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want this warm, lovely feeling to ever end.

“Just thinking,” he said.

“About what?”

“Kissing you,” he said.

You were almost surprised; you had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that your semester-long flirtation was a one-sided puppy crush. You had been so busy with your research and recruiting and planning, you had forgotten somewhere along the way that you were a stone cold fox with tits and ass for days and enough sex appeal to blow the top off Mount St. Helens.

“You can,” you said, turning your body toward him. “I don’t mind.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Fine then,” you turned to stand.

Pedro seized you by the waist, pulling you back into his lap and into a long, slow kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft and his mouth tasted like salt and lime as his tongue brushed into yours with careful, confident strokes.

“That was nice,” your eyes fluttered open as Pedro finally pulled away. “You’re a good kisser.”

“You, too,” Pedro said. “Again?”

You tilted your chin, touching the point on your neck, just below your ear. As Pedro leaned in, working the beginnings of a hickey into your neck, you guided his hands from your waist to your breasts. You pressed against him, moving to straddle his thigh.

“More?” Pedro asked.

“Yes,” you panted. You braced yourself on the back of the chair, one hand on either side of his head, grinding against his leg, feeling hot and wet as he kneaded your breasts with reverent appreciation.

“Mi amor,” he breathed.

“Pedro,” you held his face, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Dime, lo qué quieres.”

“Fuck.” His accent went straight to your cunt. You ran one hand up his thigh, groping at the crotch of his chinos.

Pedro let out an obscene moan and hoisted you up onto his desk. He slid his hands up your thighs, fingers slipping into your panties. He ran his fingertips through your folds, tracing circles around the swollen nub of your clit with an absolute shit-eating grin.

“Qué lluvia.”

You howled with laughter. “I know that one! I know that one!”

“A huevo.”

Pedro rose from his chair, bunching your dress up around your waist. You pulled his shirt free from the waistband of his pants, running your hands up the warm skin of his back.

“Want you,” you sighed. “Want you inside me.”

“Whatever you want, Angelita.”

Pedro pulled your underwear down to your ankles, pausing to retrieve a condom from the wallet in his back pocket, like an over-eager undergrad, pulling down his pants to roll it on. He pressed the head of his cock against your clit. You grabbed him by the ass, wrapping your legs around him to guide him into you.

Pedro flicked his hips into you with short, quick strokes, sending jolts of energy through your core.

“More,” you pleaded breathlessly. “Deeper.”

Pedro lifted your ankles onto his shoulders, pressing into you long and slow until you could feel him bumping against your cervix. You gasped, reaching behind you, scrambling for leverage, knocking the computer monitor off the desk.

“Oh no!” You turned, trying to catch it before it crashed to the floor.

“It’s okay!” Pedro said, taking your face in his hands to guide your gaze back to his eyes. “It’s a shitty computer. It’s fine.”

You moaned, letting your head fall back, grabbing for his chest with one hand as he fucked you.

“So soft,” he moaned against your ear. “So fucking good for me, Angel.”

“Give me your hand,” you said, guiding his fingers back to your clit. “Up and down, right there. Oh God.”

You grabbed Pedro’s shoulder to brace yourself.

“I’m close,” he warned.

“Not yet,” you pleaded. “Just a little more.”

You could feel your own climax building inside you. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.

“Oh God!”

Pedro came inside you with a gasp as your inner walls clenched around him. He slowly withdrew, supporting your legs, and easing you onto your back, scattering papers and pens onto the floor. He kissed your neck and your breasts as his hands explored the curves of your body.

You woke the next morning on the couch in Pedro’s office. You were lying on top of him; your head on his chest. He had his arms around you, your head was pounding as you squinted into the daylight.

“We got fucked up last night?” you said.

“Yup.”

“It was nice."

"It was," Pedro agreed, kissing the top of your head as you blinked sleep from your eyes.

"What time is it?”

You grabbed his forearm, turning it so you could look at the face of his watch.

“Oh shit,” you gasped. “I have Freshman Seminar in half an hour.”

“I already missed my morning classes,” Pedro moaned, letting his head fall back against the armrest.

“Do you want to explain to Dr. Monroe why I can’t teach her class?” you said, rising from the couch and searching the office floor for your underpants.

“No,” Pedro said. “She scares me.”

You pulled your underwear back on, finding your bag, you used the satin scarf tied around the handle to cover the love-bites blooming on your throat and chest. You dabbed concealer under your eyes and added a fresh coat of red lipstick.

“Would you like to have lunch together? Not at the Caf. Somewhere nice, like a date.” Pedro asked, sitting up. He looked endearingly child-like with his bedhead and giant brown eyes.

You paused, checking your reflection in your compact mirror.

“Can we do that?” you asked.

“I don’t see why not,” he said. “You were never my student and after this week we won’t even work together any more.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“I’ll pack things up here and meet you after class.”

You smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

#rpf: pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #hot for teacher AU #mr. ben has us in a chokehold #mr. ben snl #pedro pascal x you

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hiskillingjar · 1 month

Note

ren forcefemming is my favorite thing in the world like ... because i feel like he has such a warped perception of femininity . i think ren is like "yeah being a girl is when you act like a dumb whore and wear tiny clothes"

a heem heem...whimper...

i had to write something for this. don't look at me. i'm sorry women.

1200+ words, masc reader, cw for like. you know.

"You're an absolute degenerate, do you know that?"

Your voice was terse and irritable as Ren slid the skirt's waistband up your legs, a dumb smile on his lips and his tail wagging erratically as he did so.

Your bound wrists twisted tightly behind you and you could feel that your bare (for the most part) legs were trembling, but you were determined not to show just how nervous this was making you.

"Seriously, this is some perverted shit, Ren. What fucked up hentai have you been watching lately?"

"Ah-ah-ah," Ren chided, his smile spreading into a sharp-toothed grin as he straightened out, his eyes, glittering with malice and sick amusement, meeting yours as he wagged a finger condescendingly at you. "That's pretty bad language for a girl. You shouldn't be speaking like that, especially not to me."

"I'm not a fucking girl!" You snapped with a fierce look in your eyes, giving the zip-tie currently cutting into your skin a firm pull, knowing full well that it wasn't going to snap any time soon, and would, in fact, just dig even more painfully into your sensitive wrists.

Whatever, it felt better to put up a fight than to sit passively, doing nothing.

"Well, you kinda look like one right now," He drawled with an eye roll, moving closer to you and bracketing your trembling thighs with his own as he knelt in your lap. "And, like, I know it's not 'PC' or whatever," He chuckled and bit his lip, reaching to his side to pick up what looked like an eyeshadow palette and set it down on his thigh. "But normally, when someone looks like a girl and acts like a girl...they are one."

You gritted your teeth together, tensing your jaw as he took your cheeks in a painful grip and opened the palette with an elegant flick of his wrist, sweeping his pointer finger in glittery pink.

"I mean, you're not a very good girl," He continued with another mean chuckle, like he was saying something especially cruel. "But that's okay. I can help you with that. Close your eyes, please."

In spite of how much you wanted to cuss him out, you were very quickly deathly still as Ren gently rubbed his finger over your eyelid, incredibly cognisant of the tiny scratch of his claw over the thin, delicate skin that covered your eyes, your tense jaw trembling a little more as the tip (as sharp as a needle) traced the curve of your eye’s socket.

You wanted to put up a fight, of course you wanted to, but fuck, not when he was this close to putting a finger in your eye if you pissed him off.

"And, you know, make-up and clothes are just one thing...or, er, two things." He smiled, dabbing another colour of glitter in the corners of your eyes with his pinky. When there wasn’t the threat of a claw, the gesture was almost a little pleasant.. "It also comes down to attitude, you know...the way you carry yourself. Expression." He pulled his fingers away from your lids then, and you felt the press of what felt like a felt pen against your lids.

"You're such a freak...." You mumbled, though you did your best not to flinch as he drew a neat line across your lid, drawing it out to a sharp point, spanning up to your temple.

"Be nice, sweetie," He chided softly, paying attention to your other lid. "That's what I like...nice, sweet girls. Girls who know their place."

"Seems to me you like sluts," You grumbled, opening your lids to tiny slits to peer down at your lap. The plaid skirt he had forced you into was absurdly short, and had you been able to stand, it would have barely covered your ass, let alone the fishnets and the cheap, studded garter he had buckled around your thigh. "Or bad crossdressers."

"Mm, I mean, yeah, I guess I kind of do,” He agreed with an airy titter, setting down the pen and picking up a brush, which he dabbed into the eyeshadow palette. “I like nice girls, yeah…” He paused and idly licked his lips thoughtfully. “But I like it even more when they stop being so nice and act like a girl should act, ya know…when they stop playing smart and act like dumb whores instead.”

You grimaced at his hungry expression.

“Fucking incel,” You mumbled through your grit teeth, which only made him laugh harder as he powdered your cheeks with hot pink. “Jesus. I thought you were just a pervert, turns out your’re also a total misogynist too.”

“Ah, that’s a big word for you, sweetheart.” He teased with a mean snicker, continuing to blush up your cheeks. “You really are a girl…so fucking sensitive.”

You yanked your head backwards and glared hard at him.

Ren sat still for a moment, looking almost surprised as he gave you a long and considered look before he smiled innocently and hopped off your lap, setting the make-up supplies to the side again and pacing to his desk.

“I’m kind of sick of you cussing at me, actually,” He mumbled to himself, opening up the top drawer and fishing out a cheap-looking ball gag, pale pink, fake leather and hard plastic. “What’s the saying…” He drawled out again, unbuckling it as he paced back to you. “‘Girls should be seen and not heard?’ Yeah, that’s the one.”

“NGH-!”

You grunted roughly as he pushed a hand into your hair (gripping a chunk of your bangs) and forced your head back, pressing the ball between your teeth and buckling the leather belt around the base of your skull quickly and efficiently. You could already feel the cheap straps digging into the corners of your mouth, painfully tight.

“There we go, much better.” He said brightly, his eyes creasing with delight as he sat back in your lap.

Despite your muffled protests and how much you were now pulling at each tight binding to be away from him, he pushed both hands up your skirt, feeling for and groping the first stirrings of (unfortunate) arousal in your…well, his panties.

“Haha, you can’t even pretend that you’re not enjoying yourself, can you?” He asked with a giggle, pressing his chest against yours, his tail wagging even faster. “I hope you know that this doesn’t make you any less of a girl, by the way…”

He punctuated his ‘validation’ (because what else were you going to call it?) by giving your arousal another firm squeeze. His fist was tight enough, squeezing and rubbing in the first oozing drips of pre-cum, that you couldn’t hold back a groan into the firm plastic of the ballgag, and pressed your face into his shoulder to hide how much your blushed cheeks were flushing.

“You’re gonna be stuck like this for a while, by the way…so just try to enjoy it instead of fighting me, hm?~”

#ren hana #ren btd #ren x mc #ren x reader #fics #drabbles #qs #i am not above finding forcefem hot. sorry. killing myself now

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andorskenobi · 1 year

Text

Apple Pie | B. Floyd

Pairing: Robert 'Bob' Floyd x f!Mitchell!Reader

Part 2

Summary: Moving around a lot as a child made feeling at home difficult for you as an adult, that was until you met Bob. Nickname: Vienna

Warnings: just pure fluff, bob (he's dangerously loveable)

a/n: in case you haven't noticed I really like Lizzy McAlpine, once again I really recommend this song it's very cute and I love it. also this is most likely going to have multiple parts so let me know if you'd be interested in that

w/c: 2,501

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

You'd lived in North Island for two years now, but still it never quite felt like home. Granted, you never really understood what home felt like since you moved around so much as a child. You decided on North Island because it was the closest to home you'd ever felt growing up. The plan ending up working out in the end as your dad was called back to Top Gun.

You were excited to have your dad back in town, more so when he asked to meet you at the Hard Deck that evening. You sat in your usual spot at the bar talking with Penny when a group of pilots walked in, the taller blonde one catching your attention for a few seconds before you returned your attention to Penny.

"So tell me, who are you waiting for?" She had asked that at least for times since you had sat down, but you refused to tell her not wanting to spoil the surprise. Penny was one of the few women that your father had been with that you actually liked, excluding your mother of course. She'd passed when you were born, hence you growing up with your dad.

"I am not telling you, it's a surprise." Penny just huffed and turned her attention to another bar patron. You fiddled with the neck of your beer glancing back at the door every few seconds it seemed like.

"This seat taken?" You shook your head before looking at the source of the voice. He was another pilot, granted he didn't carry the pilot demeanor you'd grown used to over the years of being surrounded by both your dad and Iceman. He smiled at you as he sat down, politely waiting for Penny to notice him rather than hollering for her, which is what most of the patrons did.

You weren't sure if you should speak to him so you sat quietly beside him, feeling unusually shy in his presence. However, he spoke first for you.

"I'm Bob, by the way." He reached his hand out for you to shake, an action you took mental note of. You took his name and introduced yourself to him. The two of you began talking, he had been called back to Top Gun just like your father and he was a WSO. You told him about your dad and about growing up in the Navy. Conversation with him was shockingly easy.

You talked for what felt like ages before he asked if you wanted to go over to the pool tables where it was slightly quieter.

"Hey Pen, will you tell me when my dad get here?" You rolled your eyes as she winked at you and shooed you off.

The night moved by quickly laughing and talking with Bob, before you knew it more pilots were showing up. You didn't even notice that your dad was already here and watching you while talking to Penny. You were quick to make friends with the other pilots, Phoenix arguably becoming your favorite out of all of them.

"Oh c'mon, you can't be that good Hangman." You laughed as Hangman stared at you with an open mouth.

"What would you even know about flying, sweetheart." Bob watched you as you rolled your eyes at the cocky blonde.

"My dad's a pilot dipshit. A damn good one too." Before Hangman could retort a familiar voice rang through the bar.

"If it isn't Vienna, as I live and breathe." You smiled at the use of the nickname, you stood up to give him a hug. Besides your dad, he was the only person who made you feel the way you thought home was supposed to feel. Growing up he had always been like an older brother to you, so when he and your father fell out it was very hard for you to pick a side.

"So this is how you tell me your back stateside?" You ask as you pull back from the hug.

"Sorry?" You turn back to find the other pilots looking at the two of you in confusion.

"You guys know each other?" Hangman was the first to speak.

"Something like that." You figured Rooster didn't want them all to know about his father and your father so you kept it short.

The conversation drifted again so you were able to quietly return your attention back to Bob.

"Want another drink?" You asked noticing yours was empty.

Bob shook his head holding up his still practically full bottle, "I'm good. Want me to come with you?"

"No. I'll be quick, and plus Penny will protect me."

You smiled when you saw your dad sitting at the bar talking to Penny, "Hey old man."

Maverick smiled when he saw you, "So you've finally decided to grace your old man with your presence?"

"Oh shut up you're fine, besides you've had company." You winked, nodding your head towards Penny. You dad smiled at you shaking his head before giving you a side hug.

"I can't stay long, I told my company I would be fast. Wouldn't want to worry him." You turned to look at your dad, a small smile on your face. You'd missed him, to say it was nice to be with him again would be an understatement. "He's here ya know, you should try and speak with him. I don't know what happened between you two but I think Goose would have wanted you to fix whatever it is."

He shook his head, "Not tonight."

You sighed taking your drink and going back to join your new friends. The rest of the night was spent in good company, a smile never leaving your face. Slowly, people started funneling out of the bar and soon it was just you and Bob left.

"At least let me walk you home." You smiled at the offer before standing from where you sat.

"Okay fine, but promise you won't kidnap me." Bob shook his head at the joke, making you laugh.

"Let's go."

As the two of you walked you talked more, and the more you learned about him the more you began to like him. He was incredibly sweet and ever the gentleman.

"So what's with the nickname Rooster called you earlier?" You smiled to yourself remembering how you got the nickname.

"It's actually kind of stupid if you think about it, the nickname not the story, because the song is absolutely amazing. Anyways, growing up I would only listen to Vienna by Billy Joel, like that was the only thing I would listen to play anything else and I’d be upset. It got to the point that people just started calling me Vienna so it just kinda stuck with me through life. And plus the little sausage things are the only reason four year old me ate so there’s that too." You turned to look at Bob who was already looking at you with a smile on his face.

"It's not stupid, the nickname I mean. Vienna is an amazing song. Did you ever think about becoming a pilot?" Bob asked to continue the conversation.

"Not really. I mean I went through that phase every kid goes through growing up where they want to be just like their parent, but other than that I never actually wanted to follow the family name. It didn't really feel like me. But I did go as far as joining the Navy so I guess I did follow in my dad's footsteps at least a little. I'm sorry I'm rambling feel free to tell me to shut up."

"No, no, it's fine. Keep rambling." Your smile grew wider as you looked back over at Bob. When you didn't continue he spoke up, "What job do you have, in the Navy I mean."

"I'm a doctor, I work on base actually. Occasionally, I get deployed but not often." You would have kept talking but you realized you were at your house so you stopped, turning to fully face Bob as you did. "Welp, this is where our walk ends. It was nice getting to know you Bob, and I'm hoping since my dad is going to be your teacher I'll get to know you some more."

"I would like that, a lot actually."

The two of you stood looking at each other for a moment longer than any two people should before you gave in and placed a kiss to his cheek, "Goodnight, Bob."

It had been a few weeks since you'd met Bob and to say that both of you had grown close would be an understatement. When you weren't busy with work or training you were hanging out. For the first time since you moved to North Island, you were actually starting to feel at home.

You were off of work for the day so you decided to go spend the day with Penny, who since moving back to North Island you'd grown even closer to. The two of you talked on the back deck of the Hard Deck, watching as the group of aviators played some strange game of football that your dad came up with.

"So, you and my dad, how's that going?" You asked when you caught Penny staring at him.

"I don't know what you mean, there is nothing happening there."

"Oh please, every time he's here something happens between the two of you. He's just too blind and dumb to realize he loves you." Penny smiles glancing back over to the group on the beach, her eyes inevitably landing on Maverick.

"Maybe, but I should be asking you the same question about your love life. What's the deal with you and Bob?" You feel the blush rise to your cheeks as you put your head down on the table trying to hide it.

You look back up, avoiding eye contact with Penny and instead watching the game as you spoke, "Nothing really, we're just really good friends."

Of course Penny didn't buy that in the slightest, but she dropped the subject and didn't push for more details. In all honesty you wanted Penny and your dad to actually work this time, she was almost like a mother to you and you could tell she made him happy. You allowed your thoughts to drift as you found yourself watching Bob. You had to resist the urge to celebrate when he scored.

Once they had finished playing Bob made his way over to you, a smile on his face. He waved at Penny before moving to give you a hug.

"You're sweaty, please don't hug me." You laughed as he acted offended. It was like music to Bob's ears, a sound he wished he could replay over and over in his mind.

"I was thinking."

"Oh that's dangerous." Bob rolled his eyes playfully shoving your shoulder.

"Would you maybe want to watch a movie or something at your place? We don't have to it's just an idea and I have free time tonight so, but I get if you don't want to." You smiled at his rambling before placing your hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"I would love to watch movies or something with you at my place, and it's okay to call it a date Bob." A tint of blush rose to his cheeks causing you to laugh.

When the two of you got back to your house you let Bob use your shower because he didn't want to get your couch all sweaty, but in truth you wouldn't really mind. However, him taking a shower gave you time to tidy up and prepare the necessary snack and drinks for watching a movie. You had just finished setting up the coffee table as a miniature snack bar almost when Bob walked out of your bedroom. You had to force yourself not to visibly react to his appearance. His hair was wet and hung in his face as he cleaned his glasses with his shirt.

He smiled when he caught you staring at him, but didn't say anything. Instead he walked over and sat down on the couch, picking the remote up as he did. Now it was his turn to stare at you.

"You going to sit?" You nodded your head, sitting beside him with your feet tucked underneath you.

After a debate about which movie you were going to watch you finally settled on Set It Up, a rom com with a guy who eerily looked a lot like Hangman. As the movie progressed you grew more and more comfortable in Bob's presence until you ended up with your head resting in his lap and his hand running through your hair. It was very comfortable, not just the way you were laying but Bob's being there in general. The only way you really knew to describe the feeling was like eating an apple pie that had been baked just right.

"Why apple pie baked just right?" You rolled over so you could face up at Bob, confusion evident on your face. "You were thinking out loud Vienna."

You brought your hands up to hide your face in embarrassment, but Bob moved them away making you look at him. There was a smile on his face as he waited for you to speak.

"I don't know, apple pie is my favorite desert but only if it's baked right, if not then it isn't good." You watched his facial expression as you spoke.

"So what you're saying is that being with me is like eating your favorite desert?" You nodded your head.

Bob's smile grew making one grow on your face as well, "I'm honored to remind you of your favorite desert."

Before you knew it the movie was over, and you found yourself wishing it wasn't. You worked up the courage to ask Bob if he wanted to stay while the two of you cleaned the living room.

"It's pretty late," You didn't get the chance to finish what you were going to say before Bob interrupted you.

"I'll stay, uh, if that's what you were going to ask. If not I just made this really awkward." Laughter filled the room as you laughed shaking your head.

"You didn't make it awkward, that's what I was going to ask."

"Oh good, that's good."

Bob insisted on staying in the living room while you changed into more comfortable clothes, only coming into your bedroom when you came and got him. The two of you stiffly laid in your bed until you rolled over tucking your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of him and your soap. You felt Bob relax as he wrapped his arm around you, resting his cheek on your forehead. The comfort you felt around him was unreal almost, you'd never felt it with anyone. If this is what home was supposed to feel like then you wanted to stay here forever in this moment, just the two of you braving the newness of what you could only assume was the start of a relationship.

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princejiu · 10 months

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Just Florida Things | Huh Yunjin

Match : Yunjin x Farmer Fem!reader

Disclaimer: I want this to be more of a humor post, but it just ended up more sappy than I wanted to....oh well. I'll probably make a part two if this post is well liked. We shall see.

Warnings : Alligators, near death experience, Florida, Cussing

Summary : You're a simp and a dumbass, but Yunjin loves you anyways, and you love her so much that you were willing to save her asshole of a son.

It was hot.

The Florida sun was making you sweat in place where no one should sweat. The temperature combined with labor work was killing you from the outside in. You and Yunjin did as much as you could to cool down, but, unfortunately, for the both of you, that would have to be much later. It was your top priority as ranch owners to prevent the animals from overheating, which automatically meant that you and Yunjin spent more time running around outside than inside with Air Conditioner.

Despite the monstrosity of the temperature, you couldn't deny how gorgeous Yunjin looked. Her rose cheeks, along with the coat of sweat on her skin combined with the sunlight, resulted in her glowing beautifully. However you felt disgusting, the sweat that made your clothes stick to your body wasn't the most enjoyable feeling, but that was expected when it came to working in the sun.

You carried two large buckets filled with milk, traveling from one barn to another. Trailing right behind you were Donnie and Daisy, Yunjin's ducks that you gifted her for her birthday. It's already been two years since you got them, and in those two years, you can guarantee that Daisy was your favorite, an absolute sweetheart if you do say so yourself.

Donnie, on the other hand, was a complete asshole. Always nipping at your ankle when he could, laughing at your misfortune. You also hated him most when Yunjin was around. When she was around, he suddenly became nice. No more nipping, no more laughing, you never wanted to roast a duck more than ever. The fakeness is what angers you, a jerk with no eyes on him and then a darling when there are.

A mama's boy at its finest.

On your journey, you see a tall figure near the pigs pen, and there was only one other person on the ranch who was willing to tend to the pigs. "Yunjinie!" Yunjin turned from the pigs to the sound of her name, when she saw you her body beamed with happiness. Yunjin left her spot from the pigs, looking forward to being accompanied by your presence.

Before she could get anywhere near you, Donnie left your side, running to Yunjin. You couldn't help but send imaginary daggers to the duck as always. He had to steal Yunjin's attention from you. You weren't jealous of the duck, you just didn't like the fact that he got your lover's attention when it could be all on you...okay, maybe you were a little jealous, so what.

A small quack snapped you out of your murderous thoughts. You looked down to your side to see Daisy. She opted to stay by your side when Donnie went to soak in the attention his mother gave him. "Get your boyfriend away from my future wife before I turn him into a roast duck." Daisy took your words seriously. You were hardly the type to make false promises, especially when it came to Yunjin, the hen didn't want to risk her, 'boyfriend' from being coming your next meal.

You watched as Daisy waddled towards Donnie, directing him away from Yunjin to the pigs instead. The drake also had a knack to annoy the other animals at the ranch. They all hated him. Different life, different forms of living, but you and your animals can all agree that Donnie was a piece of dirt and was only safe because of Yunjin.

After her small pit stop, Yunjin continued her way to you by the time she reached you, and you managed to set the buckets down. Lifting you up into the air, arms around your waist, while your legs wrapped around her mid-section and arms resting comfortably on her shoulders.

"Hi, baby." Yunjin greeted, her head thrown back to get a good view of your face. Between the two of you, Yunjin was the taller one, but your strength made up for the lack of height. "Hello, darling. How's your day been?"

"Great, now that I get to see you."

You rolled your eyes at the sappy line, but you loved it nonetheless. "And the animals?" Everyone on the ranch had their two sets of animals to attend to. You took care of the cows and goats while Yunjin took care of the pigs and chickens.

"Not too bad. I fed the chickens and gathered the eggs, I just had to refill the pigs water bucket. But, I'm free now. Oh, before I forget, Kazuha took care of the horses and sheep already. She's just waiting on us inside." Kazuha, Yunjin's best friend from high school. She worked at the ranch, too. She loved animals, especially horses, so you and Yunjin often gave her tasks regarding the horses. The sheep were just an extra task to make every person's chore equal.

Kazuha was a great worker and a great friend. It wasn't hard to be around her. You actually enjoyed her company when you needed some extra strength when it came to the heavy lifting. Kazuha had no problem with it due to the benefits she gained from the physical work, such as the muscles. In Kazuha words, the muscles helps her, "get bitches." You didn't even try to deny her statement, seeing first hand how Yunjin had to save Kazuha from a crowd of girls at the club one night.

You and Yunjin exchanged smiles, "Why don't you go inside and join her. I'll feed the cows and lock everything up." Yunjin was going oppose. You knew that. Pressing your lips against hers, enjoying each other's presence before having to separate once again. "Go, you've already done so much today."

Staring into her eyes, hypnotizing you to never let go. "Are you sure?" You leaned closer, inches away from her face. "Positive. Now go shower, eat and relax, I'll be with you soon." She sighed but pursued, she gave you a small goodbye kiss before taking her leave.

The house wasn't that far from the ranch, less than a mile. It was a good walking distance that the truck wasn't needed most of the time. It was also a good distance from the stench of the ranch. A heavy breath escaped your lips and watched as Yunjin got further and further away from you.

You picked the buckets back up to resume your task, once you tackle this chore you'll be halfway done for the day. You continued your way to the cow barn, Yunjin on your mind.

You placed the handle of the bucket on the hook that stuck out of the small wooden fence and took a step back. Whistling to call the newly addition to the ranch, a small calf came running, stopping right before it could roughly collide head first into the fence. You took the time to carefully guide it to drink properly. It wasn't long until the calf was done.

Turning 180, another calf stared at you, more specifically the filled bucket in your hand. It was stuck behind its own fence, so there was no way for it to come running towards you. Though this calf looked innocent, you were no fool. That sucker is a maniac. You slowly approached the other calf, "Patience, boy."

It was a warning, but you had an inkling that the young calf wouldn't listen. You placed your hand on his head, petting him slightly. Instinctively pulling the bucket away when he tried to launch his head to get a slip of the liquid inside.

"What did I say. Wait, and then you'll get your milk."

He let out a small huff. You looked at his mama, who laid in the hay. She stared at you as of saying, "He's your problem right now." You scoffed for being the person to take care of all these animals. They were pretty sassy to you. "No respect from you animals." A collective moo rang through the barn, rolling your eyes. You knew that you won't be winning against these cows anytime soon.

Back to the job at hand, you hooked the bucket, and instantly, the calf shoved his entire head into the bucket, "God Damn it, Butters!" The milk went all the way up to his ears. You were sure half of the milk spilled onto the ground. Butters brought his head to the surface to blow out the milk from his nose before shoving his head back in.

You waited for him to be done and quickly grabbed the bucket before he could knock it down due to the lack of milk. Even baby animals have their temper tantrums when they don't get what they want. You grabbed the other bucket across and left, yelling an apology to the mama when her child began to whine and stomp.

It didn't take long to lock up everything else on the ranch, but all you needed to do was get Donnie and Daisy back to their nest by the pond. The ranch originally didn't have a pond. It had to be custom made by you and Kazuha' sister, Sakura, who also happens to be the owner of a construction company.

There was a swamp near the horses, but Yunjin didn't want the ducks to fight off any predators that may linger in the murkey water. So, she made sure to have a metal gate installed to separate the swamp from the ranch. No predators could come in, and none of the animals can escape, there hasn't been any incidents so far, but you never know.

You walked around the ranch searching for the duck duo. You haven't seen them since you were with Yunjin, and that was 30 minutes ago. You weren't too worried as they never went too far from where you or Yunjin could be. But, you couldn't let them be wandering on their own at night.

"Donnie!" No answer, and usually that little shit always answered. "Daisy!" You didn't hear anything for a while, but you kept going. It felt like you were walking endlessly. You checked the cows, the pigs, the sheeps and the chickens. But, there was one place you didn't check yet. The horses stables were usually secured after Kazuha was done with them, so you didn't really see the need to check whether they were locked in their stalls.

However, you still needed to check if Donnie and Daisy were anywhere near the horses, nothing. You didn't see them even as you circled around the barn. You were about to call Kazuha for help, but a distance quack reached your ears. Then came more, there was loud noises that consisted of water being thrashed around and wings flapping.

Following the sound, it began to get louder and louder. Worry settled in when you realized you were heading towards the swamp. The heavy pounding in your chest was making it harder for you to focus. What you saw was not a sight for sore eyes, Daisy was quacking at the swamp, her wings flapping rapidly but wasn't going anywhere. You viewed in onto what she was alarming at that's when you saw an alligator snap its jaws at Donnie, but the bird dodged the attack by flying backward.

You didn't understand why they just didn't run or fly away from the alligator, but knowing Donnie, he was probably too prideful to run. He got that from his mother. You didn't dare to cross the fence. The birds had a better chance of escaping the dangerous situation than you. One, they could fly away, and you couldn't. It was also known that alligators could run and that you would rather not take your chances of outrunning an alligator.

"Yah! Donnie! Daisy! Run! Fly! Whatever just get the fuck away from that bitch!"

At this point, it was no use. The dumbass duo weren't gonna run or fly or use anything to get away from the apex predator. You considered leaving and letting the alligator do its business, but guilt smacked you right in the face and told you to stay.

These were Yunjin's children for sakes. If she lost them, there was no doubt that she would be devastated. And you couldn't have that. You always did your best to make sure Yunjin was happy and well in nearly every state that existed, from mental to physical. Isn't that what you're supposed to do for the love of your life? To do whatever it takes to make sure that they lived a life , happiness, and love.

That was your definition of love, at least.

Once the alligator got to close to Yunjin's children for your liking, so you did what any Florida born would do when anything, even if it's an apex predator, tries to take something of yours. You hopped the fence and tackled the alligator. It wasn't too large. At least 4 foot long, but its length didn't deodorize its strength.

You were on its back, arms locked around its neck with your legs gripping its middle. The chances of you making it out alive were 5 to 10. You gave yourself some credit. You had the strength of a horse from the amount of labor you've done around the ranch. You were willing to take the odds of winning this fight.

The alligator tried its best to wiggle you off but couldn't. You did your best not to let it drag you into the water. A painful scream left your lips when a sharp feeling pierced your left shoulder. You didn't know how long you've been fighting for, but you couldn't hold out for much longer.

You grunted as the alligator continued to flick his body around, you were trying to think of ways to get out of this situation but it hard considering you had to use your strength and brain at the same time. A loud bang rang through the ranch. In shock, your head snapped up, and grip loosened.

It seems the alligator took its time to get away. It threw you off its back and crawled into the swamp. But, unfortunately, for the alligator, a couple more shots were fired, and every single one struck the alligator. The reptile's body began to slowly sink into the water, disappearing from your sight. You picked yourself up, ran, and hopped the fence, putting as much distance between you and the swamp that apparently held alligators. You didn't even notice the ducks following you due to your tunnel vision.

You looked at your two heroes, scandalized. "Did you know there were alligators in that swamp!? I didn't know!? Did you know?!" You were full on panicking, you just wrestled an fuckin alligator, what the hell were you thinking?

Kazuha stepped out of the truck from the driver's side. Yunjin lowered her gun when she realized the alligator wasn't coming back. They both stared at you for a good moment, watching you gather your thoughts in a non-calm collective way. When you managed to catch your breath, grunting when you felt a body collide with yours.

"You fuckin idiot! You could have died!"

While Yunjin was yelling her head off, Kazuha took the time to gather the ducks and put them in the truck. When Yunjin was done, you both had a staring contest, neither knew what to say. One of you was a dumbass and the other loved the said dumbass. Yunjin did what she knew best, she gather you in her arms and squeezed you tight. Choking back a sob when she realized that she could've lost you completely.

But, you were safe and alive and....stupid.

Yunjin didn't speak a word to you after pulling away, but she definitely kept you close. She guided you to the truck where Kazuha was waiting with a first aid kit. Wordlessly, the two patched you up. There was minimum blood leaking out of your wound, but they did their best to stop the bleeding for the meantime. The only things that could be heard were the wind blowing and the ducks shuffling in the front seat here and there.

Kazuha patted your head once she was done, "We still have to take you to the hospital to get it looked it. Thankfully, it doesn't look like a bite, more so of a scratch. But, the amount of dirty that has entered the wound needs to be cleaned properly to prevent an infection." You nod, giving a thankful smile. Yunjin joined you in the backseat as Kazuha hopped in the front.

The Japanese's knowledge of your wound wasn't surprising. Her dad was a nurse, so he must've taught her some things growing up. Yunjin laced her fingers with yours, still giving you the silent treatment, but you didn't push her to talk to you. You were just glad that she didn't push you away. You tucked your head into her neck. The scent of apple wood entered your nose. It was your favorite, and Yunjin knew that.

You lifted your head slightly, and your lips inches away from her ear. "I'm never going to leave, I promised you that day that nothing would take me for you. I would fight with every bit of my strength to come back home to you." Yunjin looked at you, tears in her eyes. She caressed your jaw with her thumb, connecting her lips with yours.

"I'll protect you with all my heart, but I need you to keep fighting so that I can come to your rescue. I love you, Y/n. I'll kill anything that tries to take you away from me."

Two promises were sealed that day, and the keepers were determined to uphold those promises until death.

#yunjin x reader #yunjin imagines #yunjin x fem reader #le serrafim scenarios #le serrafim imagines #huh yunjin #huh yunjin x reader #le sserafim #yunjin

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teawithnosugar · 10 months

Text

Young One

! Pairings ,' Guitarist!Ellie x Singer!Reader ! CW ,' angst/no comfort, mentions of drinking, cheating, mentions of abuse, smoking, mentions of self-harm, depression??? ! words ,' 2.2k ! synopsis ,' Your band has a reunion years after you and the guitarist have a nasty breakup (Modern AU) ! song ,' Mind Over Matter (Reprise) - Young the Giant

"Mind over matter I'm in tatters thinking 'bout her"

! AN ,' Yall wanted this 😭 I’M SO SORRY FOR THE RUSHED ENDING BTW, I CHANGED IT SO MANY TIMES AND EVENTUALLY JUST GAVE UP. Also, I have no idea if this is how bands work, I just based the first half off of one of my favorite movies 😭😭😭

The band had disbanded years ago, to the public, it was due to creative differences. You all remained silent as your old manager spoke to a man who came to discuss an upcoming music festival. The real reason for the disbandment remained a vivid memory, etched deeply within everyone's mind. The tension between you and the brunette was palpable, an unspoken rift that even a fleeting glance couldn't bridge. “For fuck’s sake Ellie, we’re in the middle of a tour. You have the worst goddamn timing”

“I cheated on you and all you can think about is the timing? The tour? Are you kidding me?!”

The words still echoed in your ears, in her ears.

You were all invited to this meeting because you were invited to play at one of the biggest music festivals in America. Numbness wrapped around your being as you sat, not far from the woman you love loved.

“…they’re asking you to play 11 songs, your hits.” the man finished saying. Your old bandmates looked at each other before a chorus of “yeah, sure” “I’m g” broke out. Even Ellie agreed. Then, like an unwavering spotlight, all eyes fell on you, including those green ones you longed to claw out. Slowly, you turned to face the man.

“How much are we being paid?” you asked, your tone devoid of emotion. A ripple of surprise swept through the room. Your brow raised, “What?” you asked, a tinge of annoyance seeping into your voice. It was a simple question, after all.

“Nothing…it’s just…you never asked stuff like that before. You always let me and Ellie talk about the money.” Jesse said softly, trying to laugh off how nervous he was when your cold gaze flickered from him and back to the man.

You scoffed, “well, this isn’t just any gig, you’re banking on our past and history here, that’s a big deal so I’m assuming we’re going to be paid well for this? I’ll only do this if the price is right” Your words lacked warmth, causing your bandmates to tense, while your narrowed eyes remained fixed on the man, who promptly nodded. “Y-yeah, usually headliners are paid 4 million so I’m guessing that’s what they’ll give you.” he stammered, his nerves palpable. You nodded slowly, mulling it over for a moment before agreeing. The meeting concluded, and the day melted away, seamlessly transitioning into the next, and then the next, until it was a day away. The band delved into rigorous practice sessions every day, preparing for the forthcoming festival. Bitterness veiled your every move, but you didn’t complain, just doing whatever you were asked to. During rehearsals, Ellie caught sight of the familiar haze clouding your eyes and the tight grip on the microphone as you sang. The only time she had seen you this way before was during the month of mourning when your mother passed away, a time when she stood by your side, pulling you from the abyss threatening to engulf you. She yearned to be there for you now, but the weight of guilt from that night years ago prevented her from even meeting your gaze. You had never sung again after leaving the band. Each song you had penned for the group carried echoes of her, and performing those melodies, born from one of the most beautiful periods of your life, took a toll on your weary soul. All the pain and longing that you hid under your anger for years surged forth, threatening to consume you. Your gaze pulled towards her during breaks, and smoking sessions with the band, but neither of you talked unless it was important. You remained silent in the corner, a lit joint held between your fingers, as the others laughed and bantered. Your eyes stared blankly ahead, and Ellie couldn't help but worry. Every time you lifted the joint to your lips, the sleeves of your shirt would slightly retreat, briefly revealing old and new scars. She wished she weren't the sole witness to the depth of your current pain, she felt she had no right to care or help. She had no idea what happened to you during the years you didn’t see each other, but your pain was as clear as day, at least to her. Because no one else here knew you like she did, and that filled her with all kinds of pain and regret. When the band split up, she continued making music, coping with the heartbreak in a healthier way than you did. She released singles and albums but you refused to listen to them. You refused to subject yourself to songs about the various women she encountered. Yet, you were mistaken, for they were all about you, each one an apology. She was able to put her pain on paper and in music while you had nowhere else to put your pain. You refused to write or sing songs because every verse that came to your mind was entwined with her, and you couldn't bear to immortalize the woman who had betrayed you. So you kept everything locked inside. When you found yourself rotting away at a job you hated, you remained silent. When you moved in with your abusive brother, you remained silent. You couldn't share your struggles with anyone, because they weren’t Ellie. She was the only one who understood you, at least that’s how it was in the early days of your relationship. Sighing softly, drowsiness washed over you. You stubbed out the joint and leaned your head back onto the wall, drowning out the voices of your high bandmates.

You were all at a bar, just hanging out after a successful concert. All your bandmates were by the bar or on the dance floor while you were seated on a couch, writing in your notebook. Ellie, growing weary of watching you engrossed in your notebook, felt a heaviness settle in her heart. Her heart grew heavy when a fan approached her and started flirting with her because you saw and didn’t even bat an eye. She couldn’t help but feel unimportant to you, a feeling that had plagued her for months as the band's popularity grew, causing you to neglect her more and more. She missed your touch, your attention, you, and there she was, a girl offering everything she wanted from you. In a drunken haze, she succumbed to temptation and led that fan back to her hotel room. She told Jesse to tell you she wasn’t feeling well and went back to the hotel. You initially didn’t plan on leaving the bar so early, knowing she’d probably be better in an hour so you weren’t that worried. But you wanted to show her some of the lyrics you were able to come up with at the bar so you walked to her hotel room a few hours after she left. The hotel, a grand establishment adorned with marble walls and elegant chandeliers, exuded an air of opulence. As you approached her door, poised to knock, it swung open before you. Eyes widening, you beheld a disheveled beauty, her hair tousled, makeup smudged, and attire askew, being pushed out by your girlfriend who’s eyes were just as wide as yours. The girl awkwardly left, leaving you two to stare at each other in silence. She was the first to speak. “Y/N-” You scoffed, interrupting her as your features blend of sorrow and anger, a shield you donned all too often. Weary, she groaned softly, pleading, "Please, let me explain." “Are you fucking kidding me!?” your eyes narrowed. “I can’t fucking believe you.” Sneering, you turned, striding towards the elevator. She followed, desperate to mend what had been broken. “Look I’m sorry but you’ve been busy for weeks and I got lonely, I know that’s no excuse but c’mon, we can fix this.” she pleaded, her words hanging in the air. “For fuck’s sake Ellie, we’re in the middle of a tour. You have the worst goddamn timing” you said, voice overflowing with anger and hurt but you refused to shout or scream. Your words made her pause. “I cheated on you and all you can think about is the timing? The tour? Are you kidding me?! Do you even love me?” Her voice rose, taking a step closer to you, bridging the distance between you, and you were cursing the elevator for moving so goddamn slow. Heart pounding, eyes shut tight, you whispered, “fuck….I can’t do this…I’m leaving.” Her scoff pierced the air. “Fine! Leave!” she retorted, consumed by a fit of fury. You met her gaze with narrowed eyes. "Fuck you, I quit," you retorted bitterly, striding out as the elevator doors revealed the lobby. Racing out of the building and calling for a cab. Once your words settled in her mind, she ran after you. You were already in the cab though, telling the driver to go to the airport. All she could do was pound on the window, her cries desperately begging you not to leave her. Ignoring her pleas, you busied yourself with messaging Jesse about the situation and to pack your stuff for you cause you were going home. “Y/N!” “Y/N!” “Y/N”

Your eyes fluttered open to see Ellie, kneeled in front of you with a raised brow. She masked her nervousness and sadness, striving not to let them surface. “You okay?” she asked, a question that had echoed between you countless times in the past. In that fleeting moment, an overwhelming surge of tears threatened to spill, the urge to tell her that you weren't okay, that you needed help, welled up within you. Yet, mistaking her nonchalant tone for apathy, you stifled the tears, offering her a brief nod. Hastily, you rose from the floor, realizing that you and Ellie were the sole occupants left in the room—everyone had already left. You rushed to the door, accidentally knocking down her guitar in the process. You awkwardly picked it up, pausing to look at your initials engraved in the back along with hers before putting it back against the wall.

You slowly turned to her, but once you saw that look on her face, the one that told you she yearned for you and that she was there for you, you let fear take over and guide you out the door, out the building, and to your house.

The next day you all traveled to the festival, hours going by fast as you all waited for your turn to perform. With your band slated to close the show, you sat in your chair, donning a tight, short black spaghetti strap dress and long black gloves to cover scars and bruises while two girls tended to your hair and makeup. Through the mirror's reflection, your gaze locked with Ellie's, her worried eyes fixed upon you, barely registering Jesse's attempt at conversation. Realizing her distraction, Jesse glanced in your direction, then back at her, he shook his head at her and gave her a knowing look.

Once you reached the last song of your set, you were already near tears. It had been years since you allowed yourself to be so vulnerable, pouring your heart into songs about the woman standing beside you, strumming her guitar for thousands of onlookers, after having been emotionally distant for far too long.

Ellie sensed it, as you sang, your eyes shimmering with a glossy sheen, your grip on the microphone so tight that your knuckles trembled, and your arms quivered ever so slightly. You were losing it and she just wanted to hold you.

“You know you’re on my mind?”

As you hit one of the higher notes of the song, you turned a little sideways, so you were still facing the crowd but you could now lock eyes with her. You both got lost in the moment, consumed by the passion embedded in your melodic words and the strums of her guitar.

“And when the seasons change Will you stand by me? Cause I’m a young one built to fall” As the song ended, whispering the last few lyrics, the crowd cheered loudly, but you heard none of it. The violent ringing in your ears overpowering the noise as an emptiness settled within you.

You didn't know how or when you arrived there, but numbness slipped away as reality crashed upon you. In the backstage bathroom, your back pressed against the wall, Ellie's body pressed fervently against yours, lips moving violently against the other. Your arms wrapped around her neck as her hands gripped your hips tightly. You hated how happy you felt when her lips first met yours a few minutes ago. All the memories from years ago where you’d find yourself in this similar situation after concerts came back to you. It was so similar but so different—her lips, her skin, her taste—all held a haunting familiarity, overwhelming you in this moment. Her lips trailed down your jaw and neck, leaving light marks upon your skin. Then, it struck you—the image of her hands on that other girl, her lips on that other girl—and your heart broke all over again. So you shoved her away.

Her eyes widened, a string of apologies tumbling from her lips, but you tuned it out, the all-too-familiar ringing returning to fill your ears.

“fuck….I can’t do this…” those familiar words left your lips and she realized what was happening, you were walking out again.

She stood there, her heart racing wildly, tears streaming down her face, as you ran out, unable to halt the flood of emotions. She finally got to hold you for the first time in years, only to watch you slip through her fingers once more. Her skin tingled, clinging to the lingering touch of your presence but you weren't even there anymore.

The next time she’d ever get to see your pretty face again would be in pictures from online articles on how you died that very night. "Another young one lost"

#the last of us #tlou #the last of us 2 #tlou 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie x reader

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