#anyways. time to write a self indulgent fic about lipstick. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kawaiisimp · 2 years

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Hair cuts and cherry chap stick

Hi so this is the first fanfic I have literally ever written. It's completely self indulgent. I just like the thought of Vil not wearing makeup, wearing a crop top, running his fingers through my hair, insert other stupid tropes. This is not proof read like at all, so if you see any mistakes let me know. Reblogs and likes are appreciated, but I don't think I'll write a lot bc school got me dying. I've got some other fic ideas that I'll write faster tho if people like this one ig?

Vil Schoenheit x gn!reader; Characters mentioned: Epel, Rook, Cater, Ace, Deuce, and Jack (I think that's it); 16+? (Reader fanisizes about Vil, but it doesn't go far); it's long af; slow burn?; lots of teasing and blushing; Vil is ooc tbh; I based the reader's hair off of mine bc I wasn't sure how to write other hair, I'm sorry; pet names are used

Anyways! On to the fic.

When you first asked if Vil would give your hair a trim while waiting on Epel to finish showering before your sleepover started, he immediately declined.

"Please, Vil. I really need one and I refuse to pay for a salon trip," you begged him feeling annoyed as you sat on his silky sheets.

"Why do I need to be the one to trim your hair. I'm sure Jade would love to give you a haircut." He scoffed and stared you down from his vanity mirror while continuing to rub his makeup remover onto his face with a brush.

A sigh left your lips as you scooted closer to the edge of his bed and pouted.

"Vil, my split ends are absolutely terrible! You said so yourself 15 minutes ago! Plus, I wouldn't let Jade get near me with scissors if somebody paid me!" You sighed again, throwing yourself backward, burying your face into his silky pillows.

"Not to mention, I think you owe me a favor for letting you use me like a dress-up doll all the time," you shifted in your spot, pausing for a second "and I enjoy it when we get alone time..." You trailed off blushing, gaining Vil's full attention.

He slowly turned around and placed his brush down, "Potato, I hate mumbling, so if you have something to say say it clearly!"

You slowly turned over to look at him checking to see for signs of actual anger, but you were greeted with the ethereal view of his makeup removed, and his gold and violet strands pulled loosely into a ponytail with a purple silk headband keeping his locks from mixing with the cream currently on his face. He stared back with his piercing violet eyes. You fully sat up to face him, admiring the slight smile pulling at his lips, with smudged lipstick around the edges and the, now messy, mascara and dark purple eyeshadow surrounding his unwavering eyes. You felt your face heat up upon noticing the slight pink tint on the tips of his ears, meaning he had heard you. You soaked in the moment knowing seeing him in this state was a rare occurrence. You opened your mouth to tell him he looked gorgeous, but the moment was ruined when Rook burst into Vil's dorm room.

"Oh, Trickster! I thought I would find you with Roi du Poison!" He announced, flamboyant as ever, "Monsieur Cherry Apple is awaiting you!"

You groaned and rolled off of Vil's bed onto the floor causing Rook to chuckle and Vil to gasp as your old gym shorts rode up along with your NRC t-shirt, exposing your stomach.

"Potato! You ruined my bed and your outfit is now sideways and completely wrinkled!" Vil snapped as you pushed yourself off the floor and started gathering your things. You just smiled at him and shrugged.

"It's going to end up that way anyways while I sleep." You said, giving the pair a tired half smile and a wave as Epel appeared in the doorway. "Anyways, I'll see you guys later this week. And Vil, can I come over on Thursday after class? You never really gave me an answer earlier."

Vil scoffed, having already turned back to his vanity, "I did and I believe the answer was no; however, I would be inclined to assist you as long as you're not late, you do not bring your monster creature, and I get to do your makeup to match your picture perfect hair cut," He snapped, continuing to finish his nightly routine.

"Good!" you nearly shouted as you walked out of his dorm room, giving Vil a wide smile; leaving Rook and Vil to themselves. Epel was talking about something, but you couldn't focus not after seeing Vil looking unperfect. And definitely not after he agreed to spend time alone with you on Thursday. It was a struggle to even sleep that night but; once you did fall asleep Vil was the last thought on your mind. And the first one when you woke up.

On Monday, you found yourself getting more excited as Thursday drew closer. Your excitement finally became too much to bare for a certain brainless duo. As they had been giving you side glances in every class since Monday at breakfast. Not that you really noticed, as the only guy on your mind was Vil.

The straw that finally broke the camel's back was when Cater posted a picture of you on his magicam day-dreaming with a blush and slight smile plastered on your face. The caption read, "Oh, look at the perfect! They're totes smitten with someone! #loveisintheair #socute! #anyguesseswho." The post blew up so much that by Thursday morning, half of the school had guesses as to who it was, and the other half were in denial. Ace and Deuce were skeptical about the idea of you, the overblot fighting perfect, having a crush. But the post was impossible to ignore, and the longer the pair looked at your face, the more the idea of you having a crush ate at them.

"What's up with you this week?” Ace finally asked during lunch on Thursday. He had a look of disgust and annoyance. A short staring contest started between the both of you and the rest of the first years froze. Everyone was waiting for your response.

A blush slowly crept up your face. You believed you’d been hiding your excitement rather well. You slowly pulled your sandwich away from your face finding your plate was suddenly extremely interesting.

“What are you talking about?” You said, refusing to look up at the group.

“Dude, are you kidding right now?” Ace eyed you down, putting his fork down.

“You’re blushing!” Deuce announced with a mixture of shock and confusion.

“I am not!” Your face turned redder; whether it was embarrassment or anger, was unclear.

“Oh Great Seven, You really ain't got the hots for some guy, do ya?” Epel said, his eyes narrowing, pointing his fork at you.

“What? No! Where is this coming from all of a sudden?” The first part of your announcement fell on deaf ears. You swallowed hard, snapping your head up finally to meet the rest of the table, who were all staring at you wide-eyed with smirks, except for Sebek, who looked annoyed.

"Did you not see what Cater posted to his Magicam?" Jack interjected

"No! What did he post?" You never got an answer because Sebek decided he couldn't stay silent anymore.

“Human! You better not have a crush on lord Malleus!” Sebek snapped

"Ew! Why would they be into Malleus of all people!" Announced Ace. The pair started to bicker over Malleus, and then something else, and the topic was somehow forgotten. You were just happy nobody had figured out your crush on a certain blonde and violet-haired celebrity. The rest of the day went normally.

After class, you found yourself opening Magicam and typing in Cater's username. There you saw Cater's post. And the top-liked comment was Vil's. The Vil Schoenheit on his public magicam account, for millions to see typed, "I've never seen the perfect so charming; however, do they know you took this, Cater?" You nearly dropped your phone in shock, your heartbeat ringing in your ears. Your face burned hot as the word charming ran through your mind repeatedly.

You were filled with an increased level of excitement, and you found yourself practically running to Vil's dorm. Before you knew it, you were opening the door to the Pomefiore dorm and practically skipping down the long corridor to Vil's door. You gently knocked on his door, expecting him to tell you to leave or tell you to open the door and let yourself in.

You were shocked when the door swung open, revealing Vil with his hair unbraided and a more natural makeup look on his face. He stared at you down with an unreadable expression. Your eyes travel from his face down to his "Casual" wear consisting of a dark purple, nearly black, tight crop top sweater and a pair of velvet sweatpants of the same color with the band of clearly expensive boxers exposed. You didn't realize you'd been staring since he walked out until your eyes fell back on his glossy lips, now pulled in a small confident smile. You felt your face turn scarlet upon realizing he had been watching you mentally undressing him.

"Ah, potato you're not late. That's quite shocking considering those troublemakers seem to follow you around like lost puppies." He ended his sentence with a chuckle and stared you down with his hand on his hip and the other on his door, holding it open. It took you a moment to remember how to speak.

"Um yeah, I disappeared before they could see me." You mumbled, your head moving down to stare at your feet to keep your eyes from wandering down to his lips.

Vil chuckled as his left thumb and index finger raised your chin, so your eyes met his gaze. He leaned in closer to your face and you moved with him, stopping just centimeters away from his lips. He pulled back a little further.

"You know I hate mumbling, but I do find it amusing how you did not deny the way they follow you around." He let go of your face slowly as he soaked in your flushed, half-lidded-eye expression. He suddenly pulled back fully, leaving you a little disappointed with a racing heart. He finished opening his door and grabbed your hand, gently guiding you into his room.

In a daze, you allowed him to guide you into his dorm. He dropped your hand and allowed you to take off your shoes and jacket. Vil closed the door behind you and placed his hand on your lower back, barely giving you any time to slow your heart rate. Vil guided you wordlessly to his vanity. His hand moved off of your back and he grabbed your hand to help you sit. He let go of your hand with a soft squeeze and gave you a small smile. You could feel his hair brush against your ear as he leaned over to move some items closer to him, causing you to jump slightly. You thought you heard him slightly chuckle, but you were sure because of your heart hammering in your ears. He leaned down to grab a barber cape. He placed it over your frame in a swift, elegant motion. You felt your face turn pink as he lifted your hair and clasped the cape. You could still feel the sensation of his fingers on the back of your neck as he leaned down to get eye-level with you in the mirror.

He placed his hands on your shoulders, moving closer to your ear, "So what were you thinking for your hair?" Your face went red, and you accidentally let out a nearly inaudible whimper, but it was clear he heard it as his eyes locked with yours with a new glint present in his violent orbs.

You let out a little cough as you spoke, "I want all of my spit ends cut off, and you to thin it out?" Vil nodded as he pulled away from you, grabbing a hair brush.

"That's simple enough." he hummed as he began to run his fingers through your hair, picking a spot to start brushing.

Once he started, you closed your eyes. In an attempt to calm your heart, by concentrating on the feeling of the hairbrush running through your hair. Trying desperately to ignore that the one brushing your hair was the guy you'd been crushing on since the third week of school. It was quite difficult, considering the only thing you could smell was his cologne. The only thing you could feel was his manicured nails running through your hair and you knew if you opened your eyes, you would see him moving in the mirror as he tended to your hair. He was impossible to ignore, to not think about, so you gave in and let him fill your thoughts, despite the fact you might be close to going into cardiac arrest.

You were used to having Vil fill your thoughts, but it was different when he was literally inches away from you. You're used to feeling your heart rate speed up when you thought about holding his hand, kissing his cheeks, saying I love you to each other, placing little pecks on his lips before class, and cuddling with him at night. You're used to having your breathing hitch when your mind wanders into what it would feel like to run his fingers through his hair, hear him whisper "I love you" against your lips before pulling you in by your neck for a deep kiss, him holding on to your hips and you tugging him by his belt loops as his tongue slips past your lips, his lips against your neck as he pushes you down on his bed; where you've watched him do his makeup many times, him telling you you're gorgeous as he pushes his hand under-

You were ripped out of your thoughts when he asked a question. You jumped at the sound of his voice but missed what he asked.

Your face went red as you turned around to face him, worrying he was going to be angry at you for getting lost in your not so pg thoughts. Your worry dissipated as you fully examined his expression, full of admiration and perfectly relaxed with the tips of his ears slightly pink. You wondered if he was imagining the same things as you. The thought made you bite your lip and you cleared your throat to speak.

"I'm sorry, I was dosing off," Your eyes rapidly scanned his face trying to see if he could tell you were lying. It was unclear, so you just continued, feeling extremely nervous. "What did you ask me a minute ago?"

You noticed his face was softer than usual as he looked at you, still running his fingers through your hair. He let out a little chuckle.

"I asked if you needed a drink or a snack before I started on your makeup," He said slowly taking off the cape he placed on you and turning you around to face him.

"Wait, you already cut my hair?" You said wide-eyed.

This time he laughed, a genuine, joyful laugh. One you've only heard once before. It was when the pair of you were sitting on his bed while he was doing your makeup, and you were ranting about the protagonists of the book you were currently reading. You don't remember what made you so mad as his laugh knocked the wind out of you, making you forget why they were so terrible.

"Yes, I finished it ." He said with the last of his laugh. It once again knocked the wind out of you as you stared at him and his natural smile. You suddenly remembered his original question.

"Ah, I don't need a drink or a snack, but is it okay if I go change into something more comfortable. I still have some clothes in your room right?" He smiled softly at you with a thoughtful look.

"I'm okay with you changing. We have ample time, but don't take too long." he paused and grabbed your hand to help you out of your seat before continuing, "You should have shorts, but I'm not certain you have a shirt." He paused again, a slight blush almost too light to see arose to his cheeks, "But I will gladly lend you a shirt of mine. You're welcome to have whichever one you want." He smiled down at gently placing his hand on your lower back, pushing you towards his closet.

You blushed lightly at the thought of wearing his shirt and walked over to his closet your hands slowly running over his tops. You didn’t miss his gaze trailing you with every motion you made while sifting through his clothes. You finally grabbed one of his button up shirts he wears with his uniform. You turned to him for approval and he nodded towards the bathroom. You felt a smile involuntarily form on your lips as you grabbed your things and drifted to the bathroom to change. Once you were dressed you lifted your hands covered by his sleeves to your face and inhaled. You felt your whole body heat up as his scent filled your nose and the softness of his shirt finally soaked in.

You opened the door, tossing the clothes you were wearing before on the floor next to the door. You opened your mouth to tell Vil you were finished, but never got the chance as he gasped and made his way across the floor.

“Potato! You should know better than to just throw your clothes on the ground! At least fold them!” He said exasperated while bending down to gather your clothing.

“You don’t have to do that Vil! I can handle it!”

“Well obviously not, considering how you haphazardly threw them on the floor!” He sighed as he shook his head continuing to fold your clothing, “Will you go sit on the bed and wait for me. It will only take a moment to fix your carelessness.”

You rolled your eyes giggling softly at his antics as you made your way over to his bed. You sat down on his bed against the headboard, crossing your legs as you lowered yourself down on his plush bed. You hummed slightly as you leaned over to grab one of his pillows and placed it on your lap so you could rest your arms. You sat there for a second before a thought crossed your mind. “What if I tease him a little bit?” thought to yourself. He’s so much easier to mess with when his back was to you.

“You know Mr. Vil Schoenheit, you could just tell me directly you care about me instead of cleaning up after me like I’m your partner or something,” you purred at him with a little grin. You gazed at him through half lidden eyes, while leaning forward with your hand on your chin.

You should have known better than to tease the world’s favorite villain, who was known on the big screen for trying to keep the love interests apart; meaning he had read and seen every stupid trope played out more times than he could count.

You watched him slowly rise from his spot on the floor with your clothes in hand as he approached you. He gently sat your clothes down on the little couch at the end of bed. You moved from leaning on your arm to sitting straight up as he cupped your chin. You could tell by his smirk that your reaction boosted his already high ego. He leaned in nearly touching your lips again. The action made your face turn apple red.

“But my darling,” He purred back matching your half lidden expression from earlier, “Do actions not speak louder than words.” He kept eye contact with you as you melted, feeling your violent blush travel down your neck. After a moment of sitting there star struck with his hold still on your chin, you finally jerk back as far as you can with a little squeak.

“Hey! That’s not fair! You cornered me!” You practically whined in a panic, turning your head away to create some distance, the temptation to kiss was far too much and you did not want to create a more awkward situation than the one you’ve already created.

He chuckled at your response, “Well unfortunately, life is typically unfair and you did not seem to think it was unfair earlier,” his tone softened, but there was still a trace of mockery as he moved his hand to your cheek to coax you into facing him. You felt your face twist into an awkward scowl as he moved back, grabbing your upper arm tugging you forward slightly.

He eased off of the bed leaving you flustered behind him, while he grabbed his makeup. He sat the bag down as he climbed back on his bed, leaving one of his legs dangling off of his bed with his other tucked under his body. You watched him as moved looking striking as ever as he pulled his hair back into a pony-tail and pulled his sleeves up.

He snapped you out of your trance when he turned to you holding up the dark purple velvet head band with a bow you always picked when he typical did your make up. You slowly leaned forward allowing him to slip the hand band on your freshly cut hair. The tips of your ears turned pink as you felt his fingers sweep against them. He smiled in response to your involuntary action.

“Now then,” Vil spoke softly as finished tucking a few loose strands of your back, “I’m going to start doing your makeup, and with as many times as we have been in this exact position, you should know the order in which make up is done.” He stated, still in a soft tone, as he reached for a moisturizing primer.

You watched his hands as he gathered some on his finger tips and rubbed the cream around in his hands. He leaned forward to the point where you could feel his breath against your face. You felt your cheeks tingle as they turned pink under the feeling. He clicked his tongue once.

“Close your eyes, dear, and leave them closed until I tell you otherwise,” He whispered sternly.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you listened to the sound of his fingers gliding along your face. It was extremely relaxing and you knew better than to talk while he was focusing on your makeup. You focused on the sounds of him picking up different products, how the brushes felt gliding over your skin, how his breath fanned over your cheeks and sometimes your lips. You both sat there in comfortable silence while you were lost in thought. You had always found it heart warming that the soft tone he used before he started doing your make up, was reserved for only you. Only you heard him speak so softly. And he only started using that tone with you a few months ago, so it must mean something right? I mean you’re at Pomefiore nearly as much as you are in Ramshackle, either by Epel’s, Rook’s, your own, or more recently, Vil’s request. You were ripped out of your thoughts once more by Vil, but this time it was less embarrassing for you.

“Open your eyes.” Vil requested in that soft, gentle tone. It made your heart flutter after where your thoughts had wandered. You slowly opened your eyes and made direct eye contact with Vil. Your eyes darted over his face still perplexed by how he could look so breath taking even without his makeup. You were glad you took the time to admire the man in front of you, because you noticed his cheeks were tinted a light pink. You realized your staring in complete silence was getting a little awkward, well at least in your opinion. You then realized you never felt the cool of liquid liner or the feeling of him softly blowing on your eyelids, but you distintly remember feeling him apply eyeshadow and the other products.

“So, are you going to do eyeliner in a minute or...” You trailed off realizing Vil probably wouldn’t take to kindly about being questioned about makeup, even though he had never actually gotten upset at you before. He smiled at you and closed the eyeshadow pallet he was holding.

“How observant. I’m glad you pay attention when I do your makeup.” He complimented, making your heart flutter for the millionth time this afternoon. “I saw this dewy and soft makeup look on Magicam the other day and immediately thought of you and how radiant you’d look.” He hummed still sounding soft as ever. It was only then that you realized just how close he had gotten. Your lips were nearly touching again and you could feel his breath against your lips. You looked up at him saw he was pondering something. You were about to ask him to kiss you when he suddenly turned away, leaving you disappointed once again.

“I just have to add the final touch of chap stick and lip gloss and then your look is finished.” He muttered. He picked up a cherry flavored chap stick and turned back to you. It was then you saw the bright pink coating his cheeks and ears. You watched, mesmerized as he slightly parted his lips and applied the chap stick to his lips instead of yours.

“What are you doing?” You questioned with a slight waver in your voice. Time seemed to stand still as you felt Vil’s hand on the back of your neck. He leaned in close, lips nearly touching once again.

“You’re the second most gorgeous person I’ve ever seen.” He whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear. He gently guided you forward, both of your half lidden eyes staring into one another’s. Then your lips touched. Your eyes fluttered shut as the feeling of fireworks erupted all over your body. His lips were softer than you could have ever imagined.

Vil slowly pulled back looking just as dazed as you were. He didn’t remove his hand from your neck, but his other hand wrapped around yours. You were completely breathless as you stared at his violet eyes glazed over with adoration and maybe even love. You were both close, but not close enough you could feel his breath on you anymore. Your face redder than riddle’s, redder than the apples Epel carves, redder than the mushrooms Jade tries to force you to eat, you didn’t believe there was a color in the world as red as your face was now. Your gaze shifted away from Vil in embarrassment, even though his face was red too.

“You have no clue how long I’ve wanted to feel your lips against mine,” Vil said lovingly. You felt a you had no clue you were holding be released as your heart fluttered. Your gaze fell back on him and you smiled the warmest smile you had ever given Vil as your hands moved to cup his cheeks.

“Me too,” you said matching Vil’s tone. Vil smiled and placed his forehead against yours. His hands moved to hold your cheeks as you giggled. After a moment you realized you wanted another kiss.

“Um, Vil?” You cursed your voice for wavering.

“Hmmm?”

“I still don’t have lip gloss on,” you mumbled, praying to the Great Seven he got your hint. Your eyes met for a second as he moved his forehead from yours.

“Oh! You don’t do you?” and with that moved one of his hands away from your cheek and picked up a pink sparkly gloss. He smirked, but you were too busy leaning into his hand on your cheek to notice the glint in his eyes. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for another kiss, only to feel his hand grab your chin and the lips gloss applicator to run across your lips. You’re eyes popped open only to see Vil holding back a laugh. You knew you were pouting.

“Vil! Why’d you do that?” You cried in annoyance.

“Am I not allowed to tease you a little?” He quirked his perfect eyebrow up.

“But, You’ve been teasing-” Your eyes went wide and then fluttered shut again as Vil’s lips pressed into yours again. Your arms slowly found their way around his neck. You felt him smirk against your lips, but the kiss stayed as gentle as before. You both broke away, with you giggling at a thought that popped into your little head.

“What’s so amusing, potato?” Vil questioned, with soft eyes that didn’t match his scowl on his glossy lips.

You chuckled a bit more before he clicked his tongue and started clearing off the bed. You continued your giggle fit until he was done and then you laid down on his bed, while he sat down staring at you lovingly. You finally gained your composure and patted the spot next you, inviting Vil to lay down. He slowly laid down on his side to face you as you rolled over too.

“I just think it’s funny how the world’s favorite villain kisses so gently.” You beamed giggling softly again. Vil let out a tsk as he stared at you giggling away again. Your giggling stopped once you felt his hand in yours.

His eyes met yours again as he spoke, “How can I not be gentle with the one thing I find brings me more joy than any amount of fame or beauty?” He inquired playfully as he leaned in to kiss the top of your head. You blushed once again and Vil pulled you into his chest.

“Hey Vil?” You asked

“Yes”

“Can I stay the night? I think I like you holding me against your chest. It makes me feel comforted? I think that’s the word I’m looking for.” You whispered against him. He pretended to think for a moment.

“As long as you become my significant other, then I have no qualms with you staying the night.”

“Then, I’ll gladly become yours!” You beamed into his chest, your eyes closing. You giggled in delight as you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head and cover the pair of you up with his blanket.

“Goodnight, darling.” Was the last thing you heard as you slowly drifted off to sleep in the arms of the fairest of them all.

#twisted wonderland #twst #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #Vil Schoenheit x reader #A little spicy?#this is completely self indulgent #i just wanted Vil snuggles #i swore i was never gonna simp for him #BUT LOOK AT ME NOW #I love this little diva #twst writting #my writing

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ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds · 1 year

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Heyyyyy first fic of 2023! I haven’t written anything substantial in a few months, so I figured, why not write something super self-indulgent to get back into the swing of things? I don’t see Sandie from Last Night in Soho getting much attention. But I love her. So this happened!

I wrote this for myself and that shows in the reader’s behavior, but of course anyone can read this. For those of you who do, I hope you enjoy! Let’s go.

Perfect Stranger

AO3 Link: Here

Pairing: Sandie Collins x GN Reader

Rating: SFW

Word count: 4,473

Content warnings: Alcohol consumption, some overstimulation (not the sexy kind), angst, fluff, making out, Reader is an anxious emotional mess because so am I

The club was blisteringly, overwhelmingly alive. An assault on every sense at once.

Jazzy music blared throughout the club, half-drowning out the loud chatter and shrill laughter of the other patrons. The sounds of glasses clinking and shoes tapping against the floor as people danced somehow managed to pierce through the noise and straight to your ringing eardrums. It was warm. Unbearably warm from the heat of crowded, moving bodies. There was already a fine sheen of sweat coating your skin and sticking to your clothes. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and slid your hands against the cold exterior of your glass.

The cheer and raucousness was infectious, spreading from person to person like a disease of laughter and mirth.

But you remained untouched.

If anything, the joyous crowd only made you feel more alone.

You took a sip of your drink. It was still blessedly cool.

That was something, at least.

A nearby woman cackled with laughter at something her companion said. Someone grazed your back as they passed. You went stiff. Everything was vibrating inside of you. Your skin was too tight, too close, every little sensation was making it shrink further, making it harder to breathe.

Why did you even agree to come here in the first place?

Your friends probably wouldn’t notice if you left anyway. Sure, they were the ones who’d convinced you to dress in your best clothes and tag along. But they’d disappeared to dance with some pretty strangers a while ago. You hadn’t seen them since.

Had they forgotten about you?

The thought that made your heart dip.

They couldn’t have… could they?

Wait a little longer. See if they come back. They probably hadn’t forgotten you, they were just a bit occupied and had lost track of time having fun. Surely. Surely you could wait a little longer. Sit here and listen to the music and people and laughter and the squeak of shoes and rustle of beads and clicking of ice against glass and… the feel of your clothes sticking to your body as you roasted like a turkey… and tried very hard not to focus on the pounding in your head…

Your chest felt too small for your lungs.

“A tequila sunrise please.” The polished voice came from your left, and it came from startlingly close as an arm brushed your side.

You jerked at the sudden contact. The air left your body as every nerve jittered and screeched. With every noise and texture and bright light and melancholy thought ringing through your head, the words formed instant and bitter on your tongue – “Do you FUCKING mind? Can’t a bitch get some personal fucking space here?”

You snapped your head towards the patron next to you.

And immediately snapped it back shut. The words died on your tongue.

The most ethereal woman you had ever seen stared back at you. All sharp cheekbones and big brown doe eyes and blonde hair styled in a perfect up-do. Her dress was made of crimson beading that swayed and glittered with every movement, with a deep red lipstick to match. Even just the way she held herself was so inhumanly graceful. Even just raising a hand to brush a strand of hair out of the way, even just shifting her gaze to meet yours, was done with a wraithlike poise and grace.

You blinked at her.

“Sorry about that,” she said smoothly. She said it with such slick ease that coming from anyone else, it would’ve felt fake. But the look on her face was so openly sincere, you couldn’t help but believe her.

The blistering frustration quickly shriveled into nothing. Instead, a tinge of shame blossomed in your chest for getting so furious at a stranger over something so small.

“Nono, it’s fine, it’s totally fine,” you quickly assured her. You barely stopped yourself from apologizing to her instead. I’m sorry I’m such a bitch. My friends left me to go dance and probably fuck with strangers, and I wasn’t expected to run into YOU. I’m feeling deeply inadequate and lonely right now. Please don’t mind me.

She arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow at you. And looked at you – really looked at you – in a way that made you feel like a bug pinned to a board.

The shame rose.

“Sorry, I…” You trailed off. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to say.

Silence fell between you two.

She was a stranger to you. You were a stranger to her. You were two perfectly random strangers who had happened to bump into each other on a Friday night in a club that was practically busting at the seams with people. It did not matter that your skin felt too tight for your body. It did not matter that your chest was too tight for your lungs. It did not matter that you felt deeply, terrifyingly alone in that very moment. It did not matter that you felt inexplicably drawn to her, as if she was a lifeline cast out into the sea of people.

She was a complete stranger.

She had no obligation towards you.

Was a pretty face all it took to make your head spin? Really? Were you that desperate?

“Here you go, Miss.” The bartender slid the bright orange drink across the counter towards her. She grabbed it with nimble fingers, shot him a half-smirk and a “Thanks”, and made to move away.

Your heart hollowed. Faced with the utter loneliness in the blistering hell of the club, you squeezed your eyes shut and drew in a shaky breath. This was a mistake this was such a fucking mistake –

“Sandie.”

You startled, head snapping up to meet her gaze. She was, again, unexpectedly close to you. And, again, staring at you with an almost unnerving intensity.

Your mind whirled. “Huh?”

“Sandie,” she repeated. “My name is Sandie.”

She was talking to you. She had sat down next to you. She seemed intent on engaging you. A stranger.

Her name was Sandie.

You managed to get your own name out. She tilted her head slightly, thoughtfully, before taking a sip of her drink and speaking again.

“So.” Sandie propped her head against her hand, a casual gesture rendered oddly graceful. “What brings you to the café?”

“Um.” You fiddled with your drink as you tried to sort out your own thoughts. Relief and confusion warred inside of you. Your isolation had been so sharp that you’d internally begged her to stay, to take an interest in you. And now that she had… you couldn’t help but wonder why. Why you, of all people? “Well. My friends wanted to come here. And they convinced me to come too. Uh. They wanted to let loose and have some fun. I mean, it is a Friday night, after all. Perfect time for it, right?”

“Everyone else certainly seems to think so.” She cast a critical eye towards the dancing and laughing crowd, releasing you from her intensity for just a moment. You drew in a shaky, nervous breath.. Then she turned back to you, pinning you again. “So where are your friends?”

Ah. Yeah.

That.

You swallowed past the little lump that had formed in your throat. “They’re…” They were out doing God knows what with a bunch of strangers after tossing you away at the first convenience. As if you were nothing more than a candy wrapper, a formality. “They’re somewhere. Dancing. Probably.”

You twisted around, scanning the crowd for their faces or a flash of a familiar color. Surely, they were somewhere…

…How long had you been sitting here?

“Ahhh.”

You turned back to her, frowning. “What?” She had a knowing look on her face all of a sudden.

She took another delicate sip from her drink. How did she manage to make every little motion and gesture look so effortlessly graceful?

“Let me guess. They’re off pursuing boys and left you here all alone.”

You flinched. Well, when she said it aloud like that…

It really was quite sad and pathetic, wasn’t it? You could see the pity shining in her eyes. It grated against something inside of you.

What did you even want at this point?

You tore your gaze from her. There were too many emotions broiling inside you to recognize. Everything was just… too much. The music and laughter suddenly seemed so much louder, so much more grating, clawing against your eardrums and your brain.

“I don’t want your pity,” you said through gritted teeth.

“I’m not giving you my pity,” she said, tone sharp as a knife.

A tingle crept up your spine as you caught a glimpse of something else behind the pretty, polished exterior. Something that gave you pause, something that made your heart beat a little faster.

…Maybe you’d been wrong. Maybe it hadn’t been pity in her eyes. Maybe it had been something else, something closer to the thoughtful, calculated gleam that shone there now. Or even if it had been pity, there was no trace of it there now.

“I’m offering you a way out of here. Unless you think your friends are coming back.”

Uncertainty settled low in your gut.

Did you? Did you really think they’d come back? And if they did… how long would it take?

Which was better – running off somewhere with a stranger like they had, or being left behind as an afterthought?

“Okay.” The word left out your mouth before you could overthink it.

Sandie’s painted-red lips curved upward. “Well then.” She offered a hand, fingers unfurling. “Shall we?”

You paused. Just for a moment.

Fuck it.

You took her hand.

What else was there to do?

A flash of a smile was all you caught before she pulled you off the barstool with far more strength than you’d been expecting. Your heart flew into your throat as you left your half-finished drinks behind. Your mind whirled with worries and what-ifs. What if your friends came back what if this went terribly wrong what if you were setting yourself up for disappointment–?

The two of you wove through the crowd. Ducked whirling dancers and thrown out arms and people who didn’t bother to look where they were going. A few elbows and hands managed to bump into you, sending a startled spike of adrenaline through your nerves. Sandie, on the other hand, seemed almost untouchable, gliding past people effortlessly as the crowd seemed to part for her.

She hauled you through the crowd, past the dance floor, up the stairs. You caught a glimpse of your reflections along the mirrored walls, meeting your own wide-eyed gaze.

And then, in the blink of an eye, you were outside. Bursting through the doors of the club, out of the suffocating warmness and ceaseless noise and into the wet, cool night. The drum of falling rain swallowed the noise of Soho. The glow of lights and neon signs was diffused by the torrent, and the people were scarce, scurrying to and fro under umbrellas and coats and seeking shelter in any shop or restaurant they could find.

The cold rain was a balm against your heated, sticky skin. Every ounce of tension melted from your body. Unable to resist, you closed your eyes and tipped your head back. Rain streamed down your face, down your scalp and neck and against your eyelids. You soaked in the chill and the white noise. And the strange feeling of freedom that replaced the weight on your shoulders. You felt like you could breathe again.

God.

It was sheer bliss.

You felt a tug on your arm and opened your eyes. Sandie was smiling. In a way that was different than in the club – wider and freer and… genuine. But with that knowing look that had been there before.

“Come on,” she shouted over the rain. “I’m going to take you someplace better.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see!”

She tugged on your arm again, and you followed, picking up speed to match her near-run. Alarm bells went off in your head – it was raining and dark and wet, what if you slipped? But she maneuvered you with the same ease she had in the club, as if she knew every step to a dance you weren’t privy to.

She shot a glance back at you, her expression filled with playful delight. It was infectious, and you found yourself grinning back at her, a laugh threatening to escape you. You ran down the sidewalks, splashing through puddles and giggling together like a couple of children playing in the rain.

You felt so damn free.

What was it about her, about this person you’d met maybe ten minutes ago, that made you want to grow wings and fly through the streets? What was it about her that made you feel like you were doing that exact thing right now?

A chance encounter. That’s all it had been. An unusual chance encounter.

But it had quickly become… something else entirely. It wasn’t necessarily unwelcome.

She stopped with no warning. You nearly crashed right into her, the beads of her dress rustling as you did so. It looked like a dress of blood in the dark, each strand of beads moving and glittering like falling rivulets.

She was… really pretty.

Sandie half-turned to meet your gaze. You were far closer than was appropriate, and you quickly stepped back. Warmth unfurled in your cheeks.

“Here we are,” she said.

You frowned. You didn’t see a sign of any kind. Hidden perhaps by the darkness. But a warm glow emanated from the large window in front of you. A counter, loaves of bread and various desserts, black and white tile floors and pastel pink walls…

“Where’s here?”

She didn’t quite answer. Instead, she slid her hand to your upper arm, leaving a trail of warmth in her wake. “Someplace special.”

Sandie guided you inside. A bell chimed as the door swung open, and you were hit by the warmth of the place compared to the icy rain outside. Unlike the club, which had been warm in a sticky, oppressive way, this place was warm like a hug welcoming you in. The smell of fresh bread and butter and cinnamon flooded your senses. There were only a few people here – two people behind the counter and a young man sitting alone in the corner, reading a newspaper and eating a cinnamon roll. Sandie shot him a strange look, eyes narrowing and lip curling just barely. A half-formed question was stopped short when she looked back to you, expression suddenly serene and confident.

Once again, you were struck by just how stunning she was. Even with her hair sticking to her neck and exposed shoulders, even with her makeup starting to run a bit. And how confident she was, as if she knew how she looked and how people – you – reacted to her.

You nervously smoothed your own clothes down. You were sure you looked like a drowned animal in comparison. The warmth of the place only made you more aware of how soaked you were, and how you were dripping rain all over the shiny floors. You winced.

Well, that was certainly the downside to getting wet. The wetness.

“Sandie! Is that you girl?” the 50-something woman behind the counter asked. “You’re going to catch your death running out in the rain like that.” She squinted disapprovingly at you two. You shied under her unfamiliar gaze, but Sandie seemed completely undeterred.

“Oh I can handle the sniffles for a few days.” Sandie pushed a wet strand of hair out of her face and gave the woman a confident smirk. “It would be the least of my problems.”

You frowned. What did that mean?

“It’d make your problems a lot worse,” the woman countered.

Sandie gave a delicate half-shrug, as if to say, Oh well.

The woman’s stern expression shifted to you, then. You fought to keep from fidgeting uncomfortably or shrinking further under her gaze. Though the hand still on your arm soothed you, somewhat. More than it should have, really.

“Who’s your friend?”

Sandie introduced you with the confidence and ease of introducing a long-time acquaintance. It sent a spark of warmth through your insides. “We met at the Café de Paris and decided it wasn’t quite our crowd tonight. Thought it would be better here.”

The woman snorted. “Well I’m no Café de Paris, but you’re perfectly welcome. Especially in this weather.” Her expression softened, just slightly, “What can I get for you two?”

Sandie turned to you. “Any requests?” she asked coyly.

“Um.” Act normal for once goddammit. You glanced at the rows of breads and pastries on display. French loaves, cinnamon rolls, croissants, scones, tarts, pies, cupcakes, cream puffs, things you didn’t know the names of and things you didn’t even recognize – there were so many options, and they all had your mouth watering. “I… don’t know. There’s a lot to choose from…”

“Alright then.” She eyed the display. “How about something simple, then?” She paused. “A cupcake?”

“Sure.” Couldn’t really go wrong with a cupcake.

The woman nodded and gestured to the younger person beside her. They grabbed a couple of cupcakes, Sandie dug around the small handbag she’d been carrying and paid, and you retrieved your treats. The older woman plugged the money into a cash register as you bit into your cupcake.

Soft, warm, sweet. Just a cupcake. Nothing fancy. But perfectly comforting nonetheless.

“Well? What do you think?” Sandie raised her eyebrows at you expectantly. A little hopefully, even. You got the distinct sense that she really, really wanted you to like this place.

And… you did. You felt calmer more at ease. The pounding in your head and buzzing in your veins had faded almost completely. Running through the rain, going to a bakery, spending time with a pretty girl. Such quiet, ordinary things compared to the glitzy, hellish ostentatiousness of the Café de Paris. Small and soothing and more intimate. It was exactly what you’d needed.

And somehow, she had known it.

Just by looking at you and talking to you for a few minutes.

“It’s… it’s perfect.” You hesitated, heart rate picking up, before gently, cautiously placing your free hand on her arm, just as she’d done before. She didn’t shy away, didn’t shrug you off. If anything, she seemed to lean towards you, just a little bit. Just enough that you questioned whether you’d imagined it.

Your face grew warm despite yourself. “Thank you for bringing me here,” you said quickly. “It’s nice. Really nice, actually.”

The beads of Sandie’s dress rustled as she shifted a little, leaned in just a little bit more. You definitely weren’t imagining that. “I thought you could use a change of scenery. You looked like you’d rather be anywhere else in the world.”

Ohhh wonderful. You had been obvious, hadn’t you?

“How did you know?” you asked hesitantly.

“I’ve been there. Different circumstances but… I recognized the look on your face. I’ve seen it the mirror quite a bit myself.” A delicate shrug. A concerning seriousness to her expression.

You were again reminded that she was a stranger. Someone you knew nothing about. You had no idea who she really was, no idea what she’d been through or experienced.

And yet she had dragged you out of your little hell and run through the rain with you and brought you here.

You tried to ignore the emotion fluttering inside your chest.

“Well… thank you. Again. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I have one other place I want to take you.”

“Where?”

She discarded her cupcake wrapper into a small trash bin, and exchanged a quick thank you and goodbye with the woman behind the counter.

Then you were back out in the freezing cold rain. The warmth of the bakery evaporated in an instant. A stab of regret went through your heart – why did you have to leave, it was so warm and nice in there – but quickly vanished as the rush of freedom and caress of rain returned. You ran through the streets, giggling and casting glances at each other. With most people cooped up inside to escape the downpour, it was as if you two were the only ones in the world.

It certainly felt that way. If the nervous flurry of your heart was anything to go by.

Sandie came to a sudden stop, dragging you into a covered doorway and pressing you against the old wooden door. Your pulse skyrocketed, cheeks flaring with heat as her gaze bore into you. Unable to bear her intensity, you scrambled for something else to stare at, fixing your gaze over her shoulder long enough to see that the colorful neon lights and glowing display windows had shifted into a quieter, more residential area. There wasn’t another soul in sight.

She planted a hand on the door, just by your shoulder. Half-trapping you in, even as her other hand delicately held yours. Your gaze, inevitably, wandered back to her.

She looked at you through her eyelashes. A faint blush had spread over her cheeks, and her rain-disheveled hair and slightly-smudged makeup made her seem just a little bit wilder. That hidden something peeked back out behind the curtain. Something just a little bit dangerous, a little bit strangely morbid. A thrill went up your spine at the thought.

“Don’t tell me,” she said, slightly out of breath, “that I’m imagining things.”

“Wh–”

Her fingers curled under your chin, her grip firm but delicate. Forcing you to hold her gaze as your heart hammered so loud you were sure she could hear it.

“And don’t you dare think that I haven’t noticed.”

Your mind whirled, unable to land on a coherent thought. “Noticed what?”

“You. And how you’ve been looking at me.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

“I’m so sorry,” you blurted. “I didn’t mean to be creepy or anything, you’ve just been so nice and–” And beautiful and stunning and unreal and gorgeous and genuine and actually made an effort for me when so many others haven’t and I just feel some kind of connect–

“Stop.” Two fingers pressed against your lips to silence you. Your thoughts came to an immediate, screeching halt. “I’ve been looked at quite a lot, believe me. You weren’t creepy.” Her gaze flickered down to where her fingers met your lips, and her voice softened. “You weren’t anything of the sort.”

If you burned any hotter, you were going to burst into flames. From embarrassment or something else… you weren’t sure.

She looked down at your lips again, her own parting slightly. She leaned in.

The doorway and the nighttime rain offered a veil to hide you from prying eyes.

Her lips met the corner of your mouth. Gentle, feather-light. More of a slow, lingering brush of skin than a proper kiss. But it stole your breath anyway, made you freeze where you stood as your heart thundered in your ears.

You couldn’t have moved if you wanted to.

Not that you wanted to be anywhere else in the world but here, now, with her breath caressing your lips and the faint scent of sweet perfume enveloping your senses.

She leaned back, just a little, enough to peer at your face and gauge your reaction. Almost by accident, your hands flew out and caught her waist. Keeping her in place. An apology was half-formed on your tongue before you’d even finished the motion. But it withered at her sudden inhale and her hands cupping your face.

She was warm. Warm warm warm, a beacon of warmth and light and something dangerously alluring.

A tiny smile graced her lips. “There you are. Isn’t that better?”

You had to agree. Not that you were really given a chance to, because she was already leaning in again. Your eyes fluttered shut as you met her this time.

Soft and warm. Her lipstick just a little tacky from wear and rain. She moved her mouth against yours, as if wordlessly murmuring against your skin, and you were powerless to do anything but follow her lead. Her hands gently cradled your face. Your own fingers curled into the beaded strings of her dress.

You felt dizzy. Deliciously, pleasantly dizzy.

She was addicting.

Sandie tilted her head, just a little, changing the angle and deepening the kiss. You readily let her tongue press into you, let her slowly, sweetly explore you. She tasted like the icing of the cupcakes you had gotten, as well as something else, something barely-there but stronger and richer.

You whimpered a little. If you hadn’t been pressed against the door and desperately holding onto her, you would’ve collapsed by now. You were certain.

She broke the kiss long enough to hush you. You shivered again and pulled her in tighter, enclosing her in your arms as much as you could. Warm fingers slid from your cheek down to your neck. Her thumbs brushed your jaw.

You had just met her. But your head was spinning enough that, for a moment, you really thought you might be in love with her.

Calm down. Take a breath. Breathe. Don’t do something stupid and weird her out.

Sandie tilted her head, examining your face. She pursed her lips slightly. “I have a feeling you think too much.”

An awkward laugh escaped you. “Yeah… you could say that.”

“Well.” She paused, as if thinking over her next words. “This is where I live.” She nodded to the door behind you. “Unless you have somewhere else to be… you could always come in for a while.”

Your stomach fluttered at the invitation. She knew very well that you had nowhere else to be. That’s why she’d grabbed you in the first place. You had zero obligations to the friends who’d abandoned you for their own pretty strangers. And you had a strange feeling that if you said no, you would part ways and never see her again. It was an odd, uneasy feeling that crept up your spine to your neck.

But if you said yes…

You debated. And then you decided.

You were the one to lean in this time, to capture her lips in a kiss and make her sigh against you. It made you stomach twist itself into knots, made your heart stutter. Made you take in a nervous breath when you parted.

“I think that would be nice, actually,” you said softly.

Sandie smiled. Beautiful and genuine and with just an edge of hesitant hopefulness. The only sign of hesitance you’d seen from her all night. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest and into her hands right there and then.

A chance with the perfect stranger you’d met at the club.

Just a chance.

#ace writes #sandie collins #sandie collins x reader #i've never written for sandie before so hopefully her characterization is okay #also i edited this very quickly #so there might be some mistakes lmao

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peachcitt · 3 years

Text

on a completely unrelated note than my current lipstick fixation i am finding myself to be super super unsettled by the amount of men i do not know who have been sending me friend requests on facebook recently? like i feel like it’s been happening so frequently the past couple of days and i simply. would like it to stop

#peach rambles #i feel like ive mentioned this before but I absolutely hate facebook it fuckin sucks #i like my social media experience extremely distanced from family and relatives thank you very much #also ive been hit on through facebook before which was just. so so strange and awful #not that the guy was like. disgusting or rude or anything but like #to hit on a girl through FACEBOOK???? in THIS DAY AND AGE??????#idk. facebook just gives me the fucking willies and MEN on facebook downright freak me out #anyways. time to write a self indulgent fic about lipstick.

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kaepop-trash · 2 years

Note

I’m going to CRY I’ve heard everything now and the way I just SIMP for Chance Encounter Johnny and MC?! Also because I feel very seen by your MCs for your Johnny fics, as always

Anyways I’m just. Going to fold my hands. And think about all the coworkers reactions to seeing her again at the next year’s holiday party, unashamedly at his side but in a way that’s characteristically her, but Johnny’s so stupid happy that he gets to show her off as his partner now 😭🥲😭🥲😭🥲😭

And if you wanted to indulge me and write the drabble I mean I wouldn’t say NO…

I'm so glad that you feel seen, I hope you know that no compliment feels as special as that. I'm so glad that you feel that way.

Johnny would be beaming and you can't convince me otherwise. Johnny in general has this, "This is my wife. Have you met my wife?" energy.

It's only exacerbated here because this Johnny has been secretly pining and waiting for this moment for two good years. He wants everybody to know that his girlfriend is competent, smart and most importantly his girlfriend. Everybody is tired of him reminding them of it but he's the boss so they'll just nod and go along with it. He's just very happy because Johnny doesn't say it out loud but he loves that he's in love. He loves that he has someone to come with him for Christmas parties, dinners and weddings and birthdays. And Johnny definitely loves that it's this person in particular. He's a simp and he fully embraces it.

The first part is meant to be lighthearted. I like to think that there would be decent office gossip around them. They never did an excellent job of hiding their relationship once they started falling for each other. So there was just a lot of meetings with prolonged eye contact and lingering smiles. Again, everybody knows, but he's the boss so what are they going to do? Kun and Mark just want Johnny to be happy so they won't tell him that he needs to stop biting his lip everytime y/n makes a presentation or roughed someone up in a negotiation. Mark probably would when it started to get out of hand. Johnny probably doesn't stop.

Office gossip like any gossip changes hands and gets embellished. Some cute, some maybe not fair, some outright unsavoury. Some think she quit because they broke up. Some have absolutely no clue what's going on. But corporate life is dull and any gossip gets a wide reach, especially if it's not a huge company. But it's harmless and has no consequence.

Warning: fluff, maybe a little too much and too self indulgent fluff, simping in public, one random person being mean towards y/n, Ten being Ten, Johnny being Johnny, y/n being unabashedly herself because you have to be when your boyfriend puts you on the spot all the time.

WC: 2k

“So it’s true.” One of the girl’s from marketing nudged her lunch friend from sales. Both of them turned as Johnny Suh walked into the party with (Y/N) by his side. “The boss really is dating that person from legal who was fired last year.” She speculated.

“I thought she left because she got a better offer at a law firm.” Her friend hummed, “At least that’s what Meghan told me.”

The girl from marketing scoffed, “What does Meghan know? Hendery used to be mentored by her, you know? He said that they were always giving each other heart eyes. I guess HR found out and she was fired."

"Can HR make the boss fire his own girlfriend?" The girl from sales asked, both of them now wondering if they could. "Look," She nudged the girl from marketing. "He's giving her heart eyes right now. It's kind of sweet."

The marketing girl followed her friend's gaze, spotting (Y/N) speak to a Producer with a serious frown on her face. Johnny watched her with a soft gaze, nodding each time she turned to him like she wanted confirmation, his lips pursed in a soft smile.

Both of the girls sighed.

"Her dress is really nice. Also really like that lipstick. Do you think I could pull off red?" The girl from sales questioned, turning back to her friend.

"Sure you can, it's just lipstick." Her friend reassured her, "Meghan has a little crush on him, you know?" Marketing girl said with a snigger.

The girl from sales rolled her eyes, "Don't you have a crush on him?"

"I mean. Who wouldn't, right? He's kind of a babe." She sighed whimsically. "If only marketing was on the same floor as his office. Maybe I'd be the one he had his arm around right now. Looking at me with those eyes." She groaned.

They both watched as he leaned to whisper something into (Y/N)'s ear, making her turn and give him one resolute shake of her head with slightly wider eyes. He laughed, kissing her cheek with a nod.

"I'm sure the common floor was the deciding factor in that." The sales girl scoffed with heavy sarcasm.

"Well you know." The marketing girl shrugged, "At least HR didn't fire me for sleeping with my boss. I'm going to go get a drink."

"I heard your new job is giving you a hard time." Kun clicked his tongue, looking sympathetic.

"You can't have everything I suppose. At least my parents are happy now. A job at a law firm and a boyfriend. My mom's practically falling over herself in excitement." She rolled her eyes.

"Must be worse since you're taking him home for Christmas.” Ten chimed in, grinning when Kun laughed at the words. “I'm warning you now, Johnny doesn't know how to behave in front of parents." He gave her a meaningful look, making her brows crease with curiosity.

“Don’t listen to him.” Kun reassured her, “Johnny can talk to anybody if he wants to. Ten just doesn’t realise that Johnny also exists outside his club.” Kun shook his head.

"My mom doesn't care.” (Y/N) scoffed, “She'll throw me into the arms of any man just so she can start telling people that I'm no longer single. She thinks her biggest failure as a parent is that I'm thirty and unwed."

"Not the fact that you're a sexual deviant?" Ten raised a brow, making Kun’s eyes go wide before he cleared his throat.

"She doesn't need to know that." She glared at Ten.

"I can't believe Johnny found someone exactly like him to fall in love with.” Ten turned to Kun who looked unconvinced.

“(Y/N) isn’t as impulsive as Johnny is.” Kun told him, Ten just gave (Y/N) a secretive smile.

“A little narcissistic of the both of you, if I'm being honest." Ten scoffed and she was grateful that he didn’t say anything else.

Their conversation was interrupted as they all turned when Johnny walked up to them.

"Is Ten bad mouthing me again?" Johnny's hand slipped around her waist, making her smile just as he kissed her temple.

"Us, actually." She turned to Johnny, "Ten thinks we're both the same person." She informed him, smiling when Johnny's gaze went from her eyes to her lips without even an attempt at pretense. He just hummed in response, clearly distracted.

"Ten is right. Ask anybody who knows you two." Ten scoffed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"We're compatible." Johnny shrugged, not looking away from her.

Ten nodded and as usual, Johnny just ignored what he said.

"Come on, I want you to meet one of my principal investors." He tugged at her waist, "She doesn't believe I'm dating a lawyer."

“After you’ve been married to Kun for half a decade?” She questioned with a good attempt at genuine confusion.

“He’s too promiscuous for my taste.” Kun grimaced, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, I can’t be married to someone who slut-shames me.” Johnny paused when a thought made a tell-tale spark light his eyes, “Unless it’s in the bedroom.” He winked at her, making both Ten and Kun groan.

“Stop talking.” She shoved him, blushing at the implication of his words. “Didn’t you want me to meet an investor? That sounds fun." (Y/N) mused with clear sarcasm in her voice.

"I'm also trying to get her to give more money so be nice." He kissed her forehead quickly.

"I'm always nice!" She elbowed his side as the vibration of his chuckle against her forehead gave way to a satisfying wince. "Why do you always make me sound like I'm mean? Ten thinks I'm mean because you won't stop saying it." She frowned.

"You are mean." Johnny pulled back, giving her a look that dared her to disagree.

"Only to you." She scoffed, "Let's go meet your sugar mom." She tugged at his tie.

Johnny turned to Ten and Kun with a mock defeated look, "See what I mean?"

Ten nodded with an annoyed look, "You both are making me miss my husband. I can’t imagine how single Kun feels sound you. I'm going to go find Taemin and ask him where our infatuation disappeared."

"Marriage." She told him, earning a loud laugh from Johnny.

"Mean." Ten told her, walking away immediately.

"Here she is," Johnny beamed. "My very beautiful, very capable girlfriend."

Johnny guided her towards a middle-aged woman as he filled her in on who she was, hands slipping back around her waist the moment they stopped in front of her.

"You must be newly dating if he introduces you like that." The woman joked, reaching her hand out to (Y/N). "I heard you used to work here. Why would you quit after getting the company its biggest artist." She questioned with a conversational tone.

"Exchanged a boss for a partner, unfortunately." She shrugged, leaning closer to Johnny. "I got a good replacement job, though. In fact, one of my firm's clients is a steel corporation that belongs to your family."

The woman gave her a pursed smile, "My ex-husband's dying business, I'm afraid. I use the money I got out of the divorce to invest in companies like this one."

"Very lucrative for you. You should give a raise to your broker." (Y/N) gave the woman a smile. "Don't you think?" She turned to Johnny who gave her a nod with a soft smile.

"Speaking as the owner's girlfriend." The woman pointed her glass at (Y/N).

"Speaking like an investor actually. My firm told me I could have your husband's company as a long-term client but I still own shares from here and you being an investor made it a conflict of interest. I choose to keep my shares because even an acquisition of such a large firm isn't as profitable as my equity."

The woman hummed with a thoughtful look. "Sounds like a good deal."

"Music keeps making money." She repeated a phrase she used to hear countless times when she worked here, realising how much she missed working in the industry.

"And yet I can't convince our benefactor to get a larger stake." Johnny shook his head.

"Well you didn't frame it like she just did, did you?" The woman scoffed at him before turning back to her, "He just sends me files with graphs and numbers like it means anything to me. Things only my broker understands."

"Johnny is losing touch with the real world. He's too busy working hard so you and I can enjoy our dividends." (Y/N) added the last part cheekily, grinning when Johnny snorted.

The woman nodded, "You should hire her back, Johnny." She teased him, "I'm almost willing to overlook that you're using non-business hours and your girlfriend to convince me."

"I never wanted to let her go in the first place. But you can't make (Y/N) do anything she doesn't want to." Johnny smiled, tugging her a little closer towards him.

"I can't believe you still underestimate me."

"If her broker calls me tomorrow with good news, I'm getting you anything you want." Johnny laughed once they made their way to an empty corridor. "I can't believe you did that." He grinned, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Not even remotely." Johnny shook his head, "The first time you walked into the club you got Taemin closer than ever to signing on. Eventually you did sign him on. Since then I've been of the firm belief that you're incredible and also that it turns me on." He wiggled his brows animatedly till she laughed.

"Your investor is right. You do make it obvious that we're a newly minted couple." She scrunched her face.

"We've been together for two years now, (Y/N)." Johnny guided her with his hands on her waist, her back hitting a wall as her hands naturally went to his neck. "Don't go believing the crap we have to tell other people because of how we started. The only difference between before and after we really started dating is that I can look you in the eye and say that I'm madly in love with you. Something I couldn't do before last year."

She licked her lips, failing to hide her smile at his words. "Sometimes I forget it's been that long."

"Yeah." Johnny nodded, "I think you should move in with me so it feels longer.” He tapped his chin like he was giving it a deep thought. “A few tired arguments over the dishes and suddenly we're like every seasoned couple. No more honeymoon phase."

She stared at him at a loss for a moment before looking away with a short chuckle. "Don't joke about this." She shoved his chest lightly.

"I'm not joking.” Johnny traced a hand up her side, grinning when her lips parted for a small gasp. “You and I both loathe doing dishes." He pressed closer to her, "I could always get a dishwasher actually. I didn't get one yet because I hardly ate at home before." A slow smile grew on his lips.

"Johnny." She warned.

"I'm serious." Johnny laughed, kissing her gathered forehead, "Move in with me, (Y/N). It's bad enough that I don't get to see you every day now that you left me to go work at a law firm." He pouted.

She looked him over with a thoughtful gaze, lips parting with a cautious look in her eyes.

“Don't say it's too soon!” He scolded her, laughing when she pursed her lips and he realised that it was exactly what she was going to say. “We were planning baby names last month.” He said with a more tender voice, lips brushing over her forehead. “Let's live together, and hopefully the next one isn't a false alarm."

"Hopefully?" She gasped with alarm.

“I can knock you up right now.” He gave her a nod without hesitation, eyes lighting up with the possibilities, "But I'll be nice enough to wait. If you move in with me."

"Are you threatening me?" She raised a brow, a smile full of possibilities dancing at the corner of her lips.

"You got all the smooth convincing skills in this relationship, apparently. So I can only give you choices." He shrugged.

"I don't want to be an unwed mother. My parents will disown me." She shook her head, scrunching her face.

"We’ll deal with that too.” His voice held incredible promise, “Trust me.” He threaded his fingers through hers, giving her hand a squeeze. “Watch us make it, (Y/N).”

“Okay, Johnny.” She gave him a nod, voice dripping with love. “Let’s get a dishwasher.”

Johnny bit back a chuckle, leaning down to kiss her.

Character from: Chance Encounter

Mini Masterlist

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phoebe-delia · 3 years

Note

I’ve never submitted anything before so I hope I’m doing this correctly! I’ve always loved the idea of Draco just being his over dramatic self and Harry is like “Yes, he’s a drama Queen, but he’s MY drama Queen” and just indulges him. I would love to read anything you write on this, if you choose to!

Hello, nonnie! It's my honor to be your first ask. You did great! And of course, who doesn't love Drama Queen Draco™️? It's funny you should request this--I've been meaning to write a fic about Draco just snapping after the war, somewhat inspired by "Mama's Broken Heart" by Miranda Lambert, except obviously not about a breakup. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

After the war, Draco'd had enough.

He was exhausted with Pureblood society, with his family's expectations, with trying so hard to live a life he'd never enjoy.

So, with his father on permanent house arrest and his parents' divorce finalized, Draco felt no obligation to his father. Besides, his Father'd lost control of the Malfoy estate, thereby transferring the money to Draco's authority.

So Draco was now rich and pissed at his Father. What could possibly go wrong?

Nothing, that's what.

Draco wasn't totally cruel. He gave his father a monthly stipend of enough galleons to keep him comfortable and paid a house-elf to make sure he didn't go hungry. And of course, his Mother was set up rather lavishly with a wonderful home in the south of France, which Draco visited weekly for tea.

And if there was anything Draco'd learned since the war, it was he was no longer under any obligation to do anything that he didn't want to do. He refused to be a pawn for anyone's control, to be manipulated.

So he did what any formerly repressed, newly independent young adult would do: he let go.

Draco was no longer afraid to speak his true thoughts, rather than spouting his Father's opinions like a broken record. He relied on his cunning, not for malice, but to further his interests in ways that didn't cause harm. He learned that tears weren't a sign of weakness and that sometimes raising your voice is the only way to get through to people.

When he indulged these aspects of his personality as a child, his father would call him a "Drama Queen," derision in his voice.

Well, Father, who was wearing the crown now?

Draco knew that he had to be careful of when and how he indulged in his outbursts; it wouldn't do to publicly embarrass himself, after all.

But in the privacy of his flat, he could do as he pleased.

And no one found it more amusing than Harry.

Dating Harry started as an unexpected benefit of his newfound rebellion, the other man drawn to Draco's new confidence, fearlessness, and clear change of heart.

One day, when Draco'd returned home after a frustrating day checking up on his Father, ranting and raving and calling Lucius every insult he could think of, Harry couldn't help but laugh.

Draco'd stopped mid-rant in surprise at Harry's laughter, but he quickly grinned and kept going, more to make Harry laugh than out of any residual anger.

Now, whenever Draco needed to rant, he'd burst through the door. Harry would sit up attentively, smirking already at the prospect of Draco bashing the target of his frustrations.

"He's a blithering idiot! He should be tried and convicted of utter incompetence, honestly, Harry I'm not sure how he's managed to live to the age of 47 with that lack of common sense!"

"Harry, I swear, she wouldn't stop talking. I wanted to point out to her that she might want to spend less time griping at me for something I didn't do and a bit more on learning to put lipstick on her lips rather than her snaggletooth."

"He told me I was 'Death Eater scum' and I told him that both his insult and his outfit belonged in the last century."

And nothing would pull Draco out of his strop than Harry laughing until his sides hurt at Draco's jokes.

So, Draco was dramatic; luckily, he had the best audience.

#draco malfoy #harry potter #drarry #dramatic draco malfoy #fluff #draco and harry #prompt fill #prompt answer #prompt request #phoebedelia

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some-cookie-crumbz · 3 years

Note

Okay so the Bakujirou fic made me want to read more of ur writing(uwu💖💖💖💖)so can you please write a fluffy tdmm fic of them playing Animal Crossing:New Horizons together featuring trans girl Momo(which is my favorite bnha trans hc tbh)?Pls include all your headcanons i want this to be as self-indulgent for you as possible

We are getting up to some hopefully good nonsense up in here~! Let’s see if I can’t cook up something tasty for ya! Also this was one of those prompts that really got away from me and kinda... rambled away from the main point of the request and dissolved into a bit of a character study with added notes of fun shipping goodness so please forgive the length! And obviously if this is unsatisfactory please feel free to scream at me for my sins.

Trigger Warning: Transphobia, Mentions/ References to Body Dysphoria

She wasn’t Nashi.

Momo had to remind her of that fact every now and again, when the doubts about her appearance started to leak in. Did she present well enough? Did her hobbies speak loudly enough of the truth of her femininity or did people think she was faking? If she decided to go with a bob cut like Ochako’s, or a cute pixie like Mina's, would it make her features stand out wrong? Would she be fine wearing shorts, or would it be safer to pick a skirt or dress? It wasn't as often as it used to be that the anxiety about her appearance reared up - especially since she had been eagerly accepted by her peers when she confessed that she'd been deemed male at birth - but there were still moments where it did.

Like that evening, in specific.

While Father and Mother still worked in Pro Heroics, their roles had shifted quite drastically over the years. Momo herself had only been eight years old when Father was gravely injured in a Villain fight, taking a serious blow to protect a fleeing civilian. There had been countless surgeries and treatments to follow, leaving Father unable to move as well as he used to. He retired as an active on-duty Pro and became more involved with the agency behind the scenes. He worked more with the finances, employee relations and things of that ilk while Mother took over control as the public face. For a while, things were fine like that. It was a nice balance between them and, even though it was clear Father missed interacting with the public, he settled into his position quite well.

But as Momo's second year at UA started its second half, Father's health started deteriorating quickly. His immune system had been compromised as a result of all his past procedures and the side effects of that started to hit fast and hard. Momo herself had missed three days of classes to rush to see him when his cold escalated enough to warrant a hospital stay. While there, Mother and Father had discussed an upcoming business mixer. It would allow for them to connect with various other agencies to locate team-up partners as well as connecting to a few new support development teams. Mother had seemed rather concerned by the idea of going alone given that Father had always been the social core of their team.

And so, despite her discomfort, Momo had volunteered to go along. Mother had seemed surprised but agreed to take up her offer.

The day had been very strange leading up to the event itself. After getting out of her classes that Saturday, Mother picked her up to get put together. The full works were done for her; hair, make-up, manicure and pedicure, all coordinated to match with the long, sapphire blue evening gown Mother had picked out for her. Mother was an odd mix of overly involved and incredibly distant, taking care to ask if the length of her heels were comfortable for her or if the red of her lipstick was too dark for her liking. Once getting a response, though, she’d be heading off to tend to something for her own attire for the night without a second glance.

A part of her said she should have expected as much. It was a hard thing to define, her relationship with her mother. Ever since she came out and asserted who she really was - claimed Momo as her true name - Mother had never misgendered or dead named her. Even in the beginning, when the change in name and pronouns were still new, she’d gone out of her way to speak more carefully, to address her daughter the correct way. Momo took that as a sign that she was accepted, yes, but… Mother had always been incredibly distant. She seemed to only take an interest in Momo when it involved her Quirk training and her accomplishments therein. She often wondered if the problem was more that Mother had never wanted children in the first place and only agreed to having one to placate Father, or to carry on the family name.

It was rather disheartening to think about.

The moment they entered the extravagant ballroom for the mixer, another Pro that Momo couldn’t place was flagging Mother down excitedly. “Yaoyorozu-San, such a delight!” he greeted happily, offering her his hand. His gaze flickered over to Momo, smile remaining in place though his eyes gleamed in confusion. “Ah, and who is this? A niece or cousin of yours or your husband’s?��

“No,” Mother said, quirking an eyebrow as if the answer should be obvious, “this is my daughter, Momo.”

Momo made sure to flash a demure smile as she bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

“A daughter? I heard your only child was a son,” Momo could feel herself tense as she righted her posture. Of course, she thought, it would already be starting so quickly into her evening.

“A mistake, I assure you. This is my daughter and I expect you to respect her as such,” There was an odd undercurrent to Mother’s tone that caused Momo to glance at her sideways. She looked thoroughly unamused, judging by the scowl and slight glare she had fixated on him, and her shoulders were squared as a show of confidence. She supposed that Mother got tired of hearing this same statement time and again.

He blinked slowly, nose wrinkling briefly, before nodding curtly. “Of course. My apologies,” he shifted his gaze away from her to Mother quickly, clearly uncomfortable. “Anyway, Yaoyorozu-San, I had been hoping to have a word with you! I have a case on my hands that seems well suited to your skills.”

Mother perked up a bit at that. “Hmm. For now I’ll just take a general overview. I assume you do not have any official documents regarding it on your person currently, yes?”

Momo let out a small breath at the attention being directed away from her. “I’ll be going to get a refreshment, Mother,” she announced, though she doubted that she was heard. She made a beeline for the aforementioned table. It was often at these kinds of get-togethers that there were two separate refreshment areas; one for the younger crowd and another for the adults. She grabbed the ladle in the punch bowl and started to pour some into a decorative plastic cup for herself. There were orange and lemon slivers floating on the surface of the liquid so she prepared herself for the tart bite of citrus on her tongue, a small smile on her lips.

For a second she thought of Shoto, most likely settled in the dorms with his Nintendo Switch, most likely catching bugs or fishing on his new Animal Crossing game. The system and game - according to him - were a bribe from Hawks to keep some secret from Endeavor. Shoto had held up that part of the bargain but, he confessed, had snitched to Natsuo. It had been the most entertaining family meal they’d had in a while after that, he assured, and she giggled to herself as she sipped her drink. He may not seem like it, but Shoto had a mischievous streak in him.

“No way! Is that you, Nashi?” She jumped and whipped around, noticing a group of three boys around her age approaching. She recognized one of them from her first grade school, before she’d started her transition, but it took a moment to place a name to the face.

She plastered on a smile as she turned to face them fully. “It’s Momo, actually. It’s good to see you again, though, Hiroki-Kun,”

Hiroki blinked and tilted his head, confused for a moment, before his eyes widened in epiphany. “Oh, okay, my bad! Momo it is!” he agreed with a grin before indicating the other two with him. “Well, let me introduce you! This guy to my left is Yori, and the one to my right is Manzo! Guys, this is Momo, the one I was telling you about!” His tone dipped slightly as he introduced the second boy with him, as if saying his name had left a bitter taste in his mouth, but quickly perked back up after.

Yori offered a shy smile, staying close to Hiroki, but still offering her his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Momo-San. Hiroki-Kun says a lot of great things about you,” he said quietly.

"Does he?" she asked in slight surprise.

Hiroki grinned at her, folding his hands behind his head. "Of course! You were, like, the coolest kid on the playground! Cool Quirk, super nice, really smart… Who wouldn't admire that?"

She looked away bashfully and giggled. "You're too kind, Hiroki-Kun," she mused, turning her attention to Manzo. She held out her hand to shake his hand next. "You're Manzo-Kun, right?"

“And you’re Nashi, yeah?” he quipped, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

She flinched and shook her head, still trying to be civil. “No, I’m not. As I just told Hiroki-Kun, my name is Momo,”

“Your name now is Momo, but your real name is Nashi,” he retorted.

Her hand dropped to her side, clenching into a fist at her side as she tried to keep her cool. “Momo is my real name!”

“No,” Manzo laughed, taking a step towards her that caused her to take a step back, “Momo is the name you use to play dress up.”

Hiroki stepped forward, shoving an arm against Manzo’s chest and nudging him back that step. “Dude, don’t be a disrespectful ass!”

“She hasn’t said or done anything to offend you. And even if she did, that doesn’t give you the right to act like this,” Yori chimed in as well, a disappointed frown on his face.

Manzo glared before shoving Hiroki’s arm aside and advancing on Yori, who recoiled at his approach. “Oh, what? You think just because you have your stupid little buddy here you’re hot shit?” he barked, moving to shove him.

In a flash, Momo rushed forward and grabbed his arm. “Leave him alone!” she snapped.

Manzo whipped around to face her and wretched his arm free, a nasty grin on his face. “Oh, what, you wanna fight about it? Fine! Let’s fight like men! Since that’s what you really are, Nashi-Kun!” he goaded.

“I’m not a boy and my name isn’t Nashi!” she shouted back, grip on his arm tightening slightly as angry tears started to pool in her eyes. “My name is Yaoyorozu Momo and I’m a girl!”

There was a beat of silence following her words, making her glance up as she realized that all conversation had died around them. Her stomach churned at the realization of the spectacle they’d become. She wasn’t supposed to behave like this! She was supposed to come and be the perfectly sociable young lady her parents had raised her to be. She wasn’t supposed to be getting dragged into situations like this.

“What is the meaning of all of this?” Mother’s curt tone cut in, snapping her from her thoughts. She had to steel herself to look up only to see that furious orange eyes were not fixated on Momo herself, rather, Manzo.

“Yes, son, explain,” another voice chimed in from behind Mother. The man she’d been chatting with when Momo first wandered away approached, looking directly at Manzo with a clearly forced smile on his face.

Manzo opened up his mouth to speak when Hiroki interrupted with “Manzo was being a dick to Momo! He wouldn’t respect her identity or name!”

“I was just stating the truth!” Manzo sneered angrily, finally wrenching his arm free from her grasp.

“Son, you-!”

“Momo, we are leaving. Now,” Mother said, tone clipped and flat.

Manzo’s father looked at her in panic. “Um, uh, Yaoyorozu-San, how about we select a time to discuss that case I mentioned in a more professional setting? One where the adults can talk without the children around?”

Mother glared at him, the look so harsh he shrunk back, before moving to wrap an arm over Momo’s shoulders to lead her out. She said nothing as she allowed Mother to lead her out and to the car, the air between them tense and awkward, barely catching Hiroki trying to call an apology after her and Manzo’s father berating him.

The silence in the back of the limo once they were settled inside was staggering, making Momo wish she could stick her head out the window to scream instead of keeping her gaze fixed on her toes. It was even worse than the air between them on the walk over with the added lack of escape route. She felt like such a failure as she struggled to take in breaths to keep herself composed. She was a top student in the top class at the top Pro Heroics school, for crying out loud! She should be able to handle herself against a bigoted moron! He shouldn't be more terrifying than the ruthless villains she'd faced!

“Momo,” Mother said, her tone so shockingly soft that her head jerked up. Her gaze was fixated on her, as unreadable as ever.

Momo swallowed thickly as she forced herself to square her shoulders. She should apologize for her behavior. She’d caused a scene and surely Mother had been embarrassed by that. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” she said, blinking in surprise at her words. There was another pregnant pause as Momo let her gaze wander away again, fixated on a small fuzz ball in the limo carpeting by the heel of her left shoe. “Is that normal? What that little brat was saying and doing. Is that what normally happens to you at these kinds of things?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded timidly, wringing her hands in her lap. “I’m sorry, for blowing up like that. I can normally keep myself more composed than that during im-!”

“Do not apologize to me, Momo; you were not in the wrong,” she insisted, her voice catching in a mix of irritation and… concern? Mother opened her mouth three times before shutting it again and sighing, her shoulders slumping. “So this has happened and you never told us.”

Feeling a lump sprout and block her throat, Momo could only nod in response.

Mother lifted her head to meet Momo’s eye, her expression filled with sadness and regret. “You don’t feel comfortable coming to me with these concerns, do you?”

“It’s not just… I… So many more important things are going on right now. I don’t want to put more on your plate,” she said softly.

“Nothing is more important than you, Momo,” she argued with a shake of her head. She looked away for a moment before taking a breath and reaching out, setting one of her hands on top of Momo’s. “I haven’t always been the best with affection when it comes to you, or, well, really anyone aside from your Father. I suppose that I had always assumed that it was fine to leave those things to him, that one of us would focus on the emotional side of things and the other the more practical. Father was the fun parent you could play games and sing songs with, while I was the parent who made sure you kept your Quirk in check and your grades up. I thought… I thought that would be a good balance, that it would give you everything you needed. I’ve come to understand how wrong that belief was.”

“M-Mother?”

She placed her other hand above her heart, giving Momo’s a small squeeze as she held her gaze. “I’m going to work at being better for you, at giving you what you need from me. I need you to understand that my failings as a mother... None of that was ever your fault. I’m sorry that my actions made it seem like my love is something you have to work to earn. I love you, Momo, and I’m sorry I’ve presented that fact as being conditional and not eternal,”

She could feel more tears starting to pool in her eyes before she surged forward to embrace Mother. She was tense for a second before she embraced her back, one hand gently combing through her hair soothingly. The rest of the ride back to campus was spent like that, with her face burrowed into Mother’s arms as she cried and settled. It was strange, how nice it felt. It wasn’t like the bear hugs Father used to give her, where her small frame would be completely enveloped and held snug. No, this was something a bit more careful and delicate, something nostalgic and delicate but just as important.

Mother offered to walk her in, carefully dabbing the smeared mascara and smudged eyeshadow aside with a handkerchief, but Momo insisted she’d be fine alone. After stepping out of the vehicle and into the brisk evening air, she took a breath to help settle her nerves and maybe alleviate the twinge of a small headache she could feel brewing. It rattled inside her, still a little shaken up, but she squared her shoulders and made the trek inside. Mother didn’t leave until she was inside, she noted, and made a mental note to talk to her later more about everything that had happened that night. The incident with Manzo had been one thing, but there was the separate can of worms it had opened that she wanted to take care of, too.

She made sure to be quiet as she made her way to the elevator, the sounds of some of their peers milling about in the living room easy to hear. She was pretty sure they were gearing up for their Saturday evening game fest. Surely there’d be a barrage of broken controllers a la Bakugo if it was one of their Super Smash nights, she thought with a small huff, before turning to hit the elevator button. “Momo?” A familiar voice chimed beside her, causing her to jump.

She turned and blinked to be greeted by Todoroki Shoto, staring at her with his usual unreadable face, and let out a small squeak of shock. “Ah, Shoto,” she sighed as her shoulders sagged slightly. “Perhaps Ochako-Chan’s suggestion of putting a bell on you wouldn't be such a bad suggestion. You startled me.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, tilting his head as if sizing her up, and blinked slowly. “I got my Snooty and Cranky villagers earlier,” he said.

She gasped before pouting at him. “You said you’d wait for me to do any more island hopping, Shoto!” she huffed.

“I needed to load up so I could give Ojiro some oranges, and then I got kinda wrapped up doing stuff,” he admitted. He stole a glance at their classmates as Sato and Tooru made their way from the kitchen area with a few bowls and snacks. “Are you going to join everyone else for JackBox tonight?”

She shook her head. “No. Tonight has been a bit more… eventful than I would have liked,” she said, making sure to keep her composure. She didn’t want to worry him over it all. “I just want to go finish washing off the make up, put on some comfortable clothes and relax.”

“I’ll get snacks, then,”

“Huh? Snacks?”

“I still have two plots left for my island and a lot of Nook miles tickets. You get changed and I’ll meet you in your room in a few minutes so we can do them together,” And with that, he moved towards the kitchen.

She blinked and watched him before letting out a small laugh and shaking her head, hitting the elevator button. Shoto was an odd one to be sure, especially since he’d started working towards coming out of his shell more. A part of her was grateful but another part found his stubborn streak to be a bit exasperating. Then again, he only seemed to push when he knew something was wrong, so maybe it was more just trying to offer comfort? Despite his usual aloof demeanor, he was surprisingly astute at reading a room. As to whether or not he could understand how to react to what he was able to deduce was another matter entirely, though.

She set that aside while she got washed up and changed. Her mind shifted gears as she stared at her reflection, thinking about what Mother had said. She felt a tightness in her chest as her mind whirled again. There was some comfort in Mother acknowledging that there was room for growth, sure, but… The catalyst that remained unsaid left her sick. Even if Mother hadn’t said it, she knew this was a reaction to the looming shadow of Father’s death. She had to swallow a growing lump in her throat and shake her head, put those thoughts to bed until a more appropriate time.

She didn’t want to ruin the rest of she or Shoto’s evenings.

She opted for some old sweats and a tank top, taking a moment to comb her hair out from the complex updo it had been styled into, opting to leave it loose afterwards to help abate the small headache she had brewing. Though, if she was honest, sitting and playing games with her boyfriend seemed like a nice way to wind down. She had been having a blast watching Shoto become completely enamored with his little island and all the cute animal villagers with him.

She’d had her own file a good time longer than him and was mostly done with all the villager-hunting and replacing she’d wanted to do but found watching him work through his first experience with it endearing. He’d never even played an Animal Crossing game before so everything was completely new to him. Once she was settled, she took her unit off the dock and propped open the door. Not too long after she’d taken the time to give daily gifts to Phoebe, Ozzie, Chai and Shep, Shoto appeared in the doorway. He had four lychee ramunes, a bowl of popcorn, a bag of konpeito, a variety bag of hi-chews and a package of black licorice tucked away in his arms, his Switch case strap around his wrist. “Ah, here, let me help you,” she urged, setting her Switch down and getting up to help him. “Also, you can dock your Switch on mine. That way we can see your island visits on the big screen together.”

“Thanks. I grabbed a few different things but I can go downstairs and get more later,” he offered as she took the drinks and popcorn. He set the other snacks down on her dresser before heading over to her bed to rearrange the pillows to form the usual cocoon they made for play sessions together. She took his Switch and docked it for him, then grabbed his joycons and put them in the controller holder. Once that was all set up, Shoto settled into the large pillowy ring with his legs spread so that she could settle between them, resting her back against his chest, him using her pillows to prop him up and her relying on him.

She used her remote to flick on the television, then grabbed her console from the other end of the bed and reached for the bowl of popcorn, popping a few pieces into her mouth. “So you did some island hopping while I was gone? Find anyone you liked?” she asked as they watched his game load up.

“I encountered Diana on one of them. She talked to me like she didn’t know me, which was weird,” he said.

“Well, of course she did! That Diana is different from the Diana on my island,” she giggled. She then perked up and glanced up at him. “Oh, and I still need to come get some oranges from you. They’re the only fruit I’m missing on my island.”

“I still can’t believe that out of the fourteen people that have this game, I’m the only one who ended up with oranges as their island fruit. Or that one of you didn’t at least get it as your exotic option,” he commented as his character stepped out of his house. “Oh, and how soon before I can move my villagers' houses?”

“You’ve already gotten your first three furnished homes, so I think you should have access to it. It’s just a matter of having the bells to spend on moving someone,” she explained as she glanced down at her own screen. Shep came rushing from the left to talk to her excitedly. “Who were you thinking about moving?”

“Roald. I want to move him to the other side of the island from me,”

“Aw, why? He’s so cute!”

“I think he’s plotting to kill me,” he said, completely serious as he stopped in front of the penguin in question's house. When he’d first made his file, Shari and Roald were his beginning villagers and he’d decided to place their tents close to his own for the sake of ease.

She snorted and looked up at him. “He’s just a penguin, Shoto,”

“Just look at his eyes, Momo… He’s a villainous mastermind,” To illustrate his point, he ran his character in a circle around the little avatar, before turning and darting to the left. “That’s why I need more villagers like Ruby and Kyle, who have my back no matter what. I need a whole squad for the day he finally snaps.”

“You don’t think Gayle and Punchy would have your back?”

“Gayle would probably be on my side. She and Roald had a fight the other day so there’s bad blood there. But I don’t want Punchy putting his life on the line. He is a precious boy who must be protected,” he said, glancing down at her with a stern gaze.

She couldn’t help but snort at the expression. Specifically in that it was being enacted regarding pixelated animals on a Nintendo game. “And did you find anyone worthy of enlisting for this most noble of causes?” she teased.

He hummed, reaching with one hand to grab a bit of popcorn himself as he came to a stop between a labelled plot at the edge of the beach. He clicked on the sign, pulling up a card that read “This spot reserved for Static’s new home.”

“Oh, you got Static? He’s a great choice for your Cranky!”

“I like that he is a very tiny squirrel with a very deep voice,” he said.

“Much like how you like that Punchy is a cat and is Lazy?”

“You get me,” he said before running upwards. He crossed a bridge to another area to show another plot with a sign that read “This spot reserved for Willow’s new home.”

Momo giggled. “Willow’s a good choice, too. I almost expected that you’d try to get another cat villager for your Snooty villager, but sheep villagers are always a good one, too,” she said excitedly. She plopped a few more pieces of popcorn into her mouth as she walked into Bruce’s house on her own game. “So you officially have every personality type on your island! Do you have any idea as to what kind of personality types you’d like to have duplicates of?”

“Hmm… Not too sure. You have two Jocks and two Normals, right?” As he asked that, he ran back to his Resources Center to get the first of his last two house kits.

“Yeah. I have Bam and Tybalt, and Bertha and Savannah,” she hummed. She watched as he placed the new house right behind his own, as if it would be watching the back of his own. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at the sheer ridiculousness of him.

He hummed thoughtfully before he made his way into the airport. “I guess I’ll just go for characters I like. Personality doesn’t really matter to me since I already have one of every type.”

“That’s a good approach, I think,” she hummed, tossing a bit more popcorn into her mouth. “How many Nook Tickets do you have?”

“13,” he said while speeding through the dialogue to board the plane. “I farmed Nook miles after I found Static and Willow so I could go get more villagers once you got back.”

She tilted her head up and pressed a small kiss to his chin. “So sweet,” she hummed before looking down at her own game as she started looking for her daily fossils. She’d already completed the fossil exhibits in her game, but like the extra scratch she got from selling the duplicates.

For a moment things were quiet as Shoto used his ladder to climb up the three tiers of the small island to the top, where his potential new villager was waiting. To then immediately start climbing back down at the sheep sitting in front of the campfire. “Nope. Nope. N. O. P. E,” he mumbled as he did.

“Aw, you don’t want Pietro? He’s considered rare!”

“And he can stay rare and away from my island,”

The next three islands were deemed ones Shoto wasn’t interested in - Eugene, Jeremiah and Limberg - not that she could blame him with Limberg. “He’s not particularly good,” she mumbled.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve seen a single mouse villager that I like the design of,” he commented as he wandered off the desk and onto his fifth island.

“Bree and Dora are pretty cute but most of them are really lackluster,” she agreed, saving her own file and setting her Switch in her lap as he approached the campfire.

Shoto blinked in slight surprise. “A snow leopard?”

“Actually, Bianca’s classified as a tiger, despite her markings,” she said. She watched as he immediately invited her to his island. “Just so you know, she’s a Peppy type, I think.”

“She looks like Fuyumi-Nee,” he said. Ah, of course that would be enough to get him on board with adding Bianca to his roster.

She set her Switch aside and carefully maneuvered off of her bed. “I’m going to open one of the ramune. Do you want me to open one for you, too?”

She made quick work of opening the drinks and offering him his once he finished placing his last plot back on his own island. She took a quick sip from hers before opening the package of black licorice and eating a piece as she watched him. “Mind if I ask you something unrelated, Shoto?”

He glanced up at her, mismatched eyes sparking with something she couldn’t quite place, before he set his drink on the bedside table and patted the space she’d left. “Sure,” he said, his avatar boarding the plane to do his next round of island hops.

She was quick to settle back in with him, turning her body this time to snuggle into his chest. She felt him shift to wrap his arms around her, controller lax in his hand. “We’ve discussed it before but… What do you think it takes to forgive someone?”

He let out a thoughtful noise. “Well, I think forgiveness is different from person to person. Everyone has a threshold for what they feel is forgivable, so I think that needs to be considered,” He set the controller off to the side to card one hand through her hair while the other stroked up along her spine, the movements slow and soothing. “Speaking from my own situation… I chose forgiveness because I could see a genuine change and a refusal to shy away from the wrongs that had been done. I’m still keeping a distance, and I’m ready to burn that bridge in a heartbeat if I see a relapse, but… I can see authentic change. And that’s enough for me to offer my tentative, conditional forgiveness.”

She nodded at his words, closing her eyes and burrowing into him further. She had always wanted to have a better relationship with Mother, if she was honest. So… This could be a good chance for that, right? They could work on mending things between them and find some common ground. The thought of having a better relationship with her left a warmth in her chest, one that made her smile. Could they have proper Mother-Daughter days? Maybe she could learn more about the older woman’s hobbies and interests outside of Pro Heroics work? That could be nice. “Thank you, Shoto,” she mumbled.

“Any time, Momo,” he said, tipping his head to press a peck to the top of her head. He perked up again and glanced at the screen. “Not to derail but… I think it’s another cat?”

“Oh yeah? What color?” she mumbled.

He shifted his hands to pick his controller back up, keeping his arms looped around her though. “Grey. Oh, their eyes are different colors,”

“Oh, that’s-!” Momo’s eyes snapped open and she sat up, looking wildly over her shoulder at the screen. “Shoto, that’s Raymond! You got Raymond!”

#crumbles grumbles #TodoMomo #TW: Transphobia #TW: Body Dysphoria #my fics #So I got this request like four months ago #So that shows how long I've had my reading of Momo's Parents waiting in the wings lmao!#Hori has given us v small nuggets to work with for Momo #So I'm gonna give her the Ojiro treatment and give her family ties to explore #Also I'm a sucker for parallels with ships so *yeets some of those in here too*

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freewithyourtempo · 5 years

Note

Could you write a cherik fic where Erik is this really famous/hot actor who keeps his personal life very private and all of his fans speculate who his wife his and want to date him until he shows up to a red carpet with Charles (in a wheelchair) and shocks everyone and reveals they’ve been together since like childhood

I’m really sorry it took me so long to write this.I hope you’ll like it!

"Are you ever going to tell us who you’re dating?“

The room holds his breath.Erik Lehnsherr smiles, slow and dangerous. Not in a pleasant way.

Well, Emma rectifies, it is still a boiling hot smile - how could it not be, with those cheekbones and that jawline -; but it isn’t meant to be reassuring. She feels her face warming.

Lehnsherr takes his time answering.

He fetches the bottle of water hiding the plaque with his name - as if anyone could not know who Erik Lehnsherr is at a press conference for his latest blockbuster-, long fingers leaving prints on the cloudy glass, and refills his cup.

He tilts the bottle, tendons bulge on his arm. Dozens of eyes follow the spilling water on its way down.

Emma could bet the journalist is already regretting her question, and hides her smirk behind a clever swipe of her lipstick.

Someone coughs in the heavily silent room.

Everyone is staring at Lehnsherr’s working throat, up and down with his Adam’s apple, and Lehnsherr is grinning down at the poor journalist, who, at this point, can only squirm in her pastel tailleur.

Eventually, Lehnsherr puts his glass down and pops his lips. “You’re not my type,” he says.

The journalist looks flabbergasted. “I- What?”

Emma shifts on her chair and uncrosses her legs.

Lehnsherr blinks. “The only reasonable excuse for you to ask me anything about the identity of my partner is that you’re interested in what I like. Because, otherwise, your question would be highly inappropriate. So… I’m saving you time. You’re not my type. Next question?”

The journalist sits back down with no further comment.

Emma raises her hand to ask a question.

***

According to the Internet, Erik Lehnsherr is so hot that staring at him without your sunglasses could send you directly to the Emergency Room with burnt corneas.

But boy, wouldn’t it be worth it.

Your internal eyelids would forever preserve the image of those sharp cheekbones, those sin-inducing lips, those bulb-exploding grey eyes.

But it isn’t just his face, it is his whole attitude.

Brooding, mysterious and confident, with a smile that could slice open paparazzi’s cameras and a taste for dark characters with disputable morals and indisputable appeal.

Every woman wants to do him, and every man wants to–

No, scratch that.

Everyone with a sexual drive has dreamt at least once of his long fingers and rough jaw in the last year, no exception.

Hell, Erik Lehnsherr is so convolutedly sexy that Byron would have had wet dreams about him.

Once Emma saw a video of him smoking and that night she woke up, skin burning hot, with the sheets wrapped around her calves and a tuft of blonde hair stuck to her damp forehead.

And as any self-respecting tormented artist, he is a recluse.

He doesn’t attend galas or parties if he can help it (he can help it pretty often), he has never been photographed with his hands up someone’s skirt in an alley behind a dark disco or been arrested for skinny-dipping in the Trevi Fountain. The last one is a pity.

He doesn’t even have one chatty, bribable relative in all of New York.

Emma would know, she has gone looking.

It is frustrating.

Fundamental questions about his person are still unanswered, and one of them above all torments Erik Lehnsherr’s fans like a rock in their shoes.

A rock the size of Mount Rushmore.

Who is the lucky bastard who has chained him with a wedding band?

Emma is torn between her desire to bloodily maul them and to gift them a star on the walk of fame.

The inscription would be something on the line of: “The unknown sucker that wakes up every morning with Erik Lehnsherr’s ass at arm’s length. Hope you plump him up like a pillow, sugar.”

But the identity of the unknown spouse will in all likelihood stay a secret a little longer.

It is probably the blonde top model who has co-starred his last movie, anyway. Hollywood’s couples are never a big surprise.

***

Logan has a work ethic, even if he is a paparazzo.

Just because he makes money on people’s missteps, heartbreaks and scandals - the snottiest, the better-, it doesn’t mean he can’t be compassionate about it.

That’s why he has come to the conclusion, while squatted behind a smelly trash can in front of Lehnsherr’s trailer, that he will give the actor a heads up.

He will still sell the photos of his imminent cheating to the highest bidder, obviously.

That kind of stuff is worth thousands of bucks, and he is not Gandhi.

But he will magnanimously offer Lehnsherr time to have a heart to heart with his significant other, whoever she may be. Cry a bit, beg for forgiveness, buy diamonds. The usual stuff one does when they are very sorry and not doing that again.

He could put an anonymous letter in the mailbox, maybe.

Yes, Logan thinks, chewing on his battered cigar, that will do it.

He is such a good guy.

He lifts his camera and zooms on the very pretty girl waiting outside of Lehnsherr’s trailer.

Logan sees her knocking twice, then tossing her dark hair on one shoulder and putting a hand on her cocked hip. Her tiny, tiny dress rides up her thigh some more and she doesn’t fix it.

It takes a few moments, then Lehnsherr opens the door in his sweatpants, hair ruffled already.

The girl takes a step forward on her staggering heels, and Logan starts snapping photos of the two like his life depends on it.

He’s grinning like a maniac, the trashcan he’s leaning against squits periodically and his index finger hurts, but there’s no way on Earth he will let this opportunity get away.

Now Lehnsherr will look around furtively, making sure there’s no one in the vicinity, will grab the girl by the arm and close the door behind their entwined figures.

Except that he doesn’t.

Logan can literally feel the bills being taken out of his pockets and he almost wails.

His camera records the evolution of Lehnsherr’s surprised, frowning, distrusting and openly hostile face.

He’s not aroused, he’s not intrigued, he’s not even remotely interested in freeing the entrance of his trailer.

He looks almost offended.

Lehnsherr lifts one eyebrow, syllables something that can’t be anything but a piercing “no” and snaps the door closed. The girl jumps.

Logan captures the moment with a sigh and looks critically at the result.

The next morning the most-clicked tabloids display a full-page picture of Lehnsherr’s unforgiving rejection with a dozen variation of the same question.

“Does he prefer blondes?”

***

Emma wishes fans were fashionable, because Erik Lehnsherr has just stepped onto the red carpet, showered by the frantic flashes of the cameras, and she suddenly feels weak in the knees.

Somebody next to her whistles under their breath, and she totally shares the sentiment.

He doesn’t look ethereal, he looks very, very solid. Tall and self-possessed, straight shoulders and slim waist in a gorgeous oxford-blue suit that makes his legs go on forever.

There’s something less than stoic in the line of his mouth, though, Emma notices.

A nervous flicker of the eye, and then something happens.

He turns around and smiles.

Emma stares.

It’s not his usual smile, sardonic and knowing, charming but in a honed way.It is a flustered smile, face flushed, bright eyes and everything. And it is directed to one man and one man only, who is approaching him with strong pushes of his wheelchair.

Cameras go crazy around them, other actors forgotten.

Lensherr waits for his companion to join him, face so open it looks like it has lost its bark.

Emma can’t see the face of the stranger, only the straight lines of an expensive suit and a mop of rich, brown hair, and almost gets on her tiptoes to have a better view.

The men share a few words under the hungry stares of the journalists, then Lehnsherr rolls his eyes and indulgently bends over to have his bow-tie straightened.

Emma can’t hear anything from where she’s standing, but she is quite sure Lehnsherr has just warringly asked: “Are you happy now?”

The other man answers, Lehnsherr snorts and kisses him on the forehead.

Then he freezes, and turns towards the people gathered as if spotting them only then.

He glares at the journalists, steely eyes back in their place in a clear warning, and straightens back to move forward on the carpet.

Emma walks as fast as she can without breaking into a run, heels sinking into the moquette and jewels tingling.“Mr. Lehnsherr!”She knows he has heard her, because his back stiffens, but he doesn’t turn. She frowns. He’s not getting away from this. “Mr. Lehnsherr!”The man in the wheelchair stops, turns his head and smiles so charmingly at her she feels instantly flattered. “Erik, dear, that lovely woman is trying to get your attention.”

He has a silver-polishing British accent, voice calm and collected.

“She won’t have it.”

“Dear.”

It is an obvious reprimand, one that sounds smoothed by use, and Emma sees Lehnsherr’s shoulders sag in defeat. She smiles smugly at his disgruntled frown when he turns.

His British companion swiftly approaches her, and Lehnsherr follows him a few steps behind like a recalcitrant body-guard.

“What do you want, Frost?”

“Erik!” the man exclaims, scandalized, and glares at him. “Don’t be such a yahoo.”

He delicately lifts Emma’s hand and draws it close to his lips.

He blinks on his blue, blue eyes and looks at her from below, and Emma feels her face redden. “Miss, I apologize for his behavior. He’s usually well-mannered.”

“Charles, you are making me sound like your corgi.”

“Nonsense, dear,” Charles answers, and winks at Emma. “You would at least be a Doberman.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

Emma feels scrambled.

Lehnsherr doesn’t smile dreamily, doesn’t get teased and laughs it off. He glares and scoffs and frowns and scares people away. Who is this Charles, and what power does he have?

“You’re gaping, Frost,” Lehnsherr says icily. “Is something the matter?”

He moves closer to Charles and puts his left hand on his shoulder to squeeze it lightly, in an obviously protective stance. His wedding ring shines proudly against the dark fabric.

Charles tilts his head and briefly strokes his cheeks against Lehnsherr’s fingers, equally obviously calming.

“You can’t blame me for being surprised,” Emma shoots back. “He’s too nice for you.”

Lehnsherr sharpens his eyes and assays her, then nods once, imperceptibly.

“Now, now,” Charles intervenes, tone pacifying. “Erik is the best man I’ve ever met, and the best boyfriend I have ever had!”

Lehnsherr looks down at him. “I’m the only boyfriend you’ve ever had, Charles.”

“Well, I’m sure you would have been the best, anyway.”

Something inside of Emma is melting, but she finally remembers that she has a job to do. “High-school sweethearts?”

“No,” Lehnsherr answers, and tightens his lips to show how unwilling he’s to share more on the subject.

“More like childhood sweethearts,” Charles adds. Then smirks. “Erik proposed when he was ten. We had met the previous week.”

Lehnsherr blushes, actually blushes. “You accepted,” he grumbles.

“How could I not? The first time we met, you saved Cerebro. You were my knight in shining armor.”

“Cerebro?” Emma asks.

“His cat. That dunce was stuck in a tree.”

“How can you call him that, you were inseparable!”

“He was silly!”

“He was curious!”

Lehnsherr huffs “A ridiculous cat for a ridiculous man, Xavier.”

Emma chokes on her breath. “Xavier? Xavier of the Xavier Corporations?”Charles Xavier smiles bashfully, and Emma considers it a confirmation. “I’m just a professor, really…”“A university professor,” Lehnsherr corrects. “Yes, but…”“You have been called ‘a prodigy’, If I recall correctly.”“Erik,” Charles mutters, reprimanding. He straightens his tie and clears his throat. Emma looks from one man to the other, blinking. “You’ve just become the hottest couple in the whole city, I hope you know that.” She considers for a moment, then adds. “In every sense.”

#cherik #cherik fic #you asked #erik lehnsherr #charles xavier #actor!erik #emma frost #logan howlett #my fic

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girls-scenarios · 6 years

Text

Honestly, Little by Little (Pt. 3)

Idol: Lua (Weki Meki)

Prompt: Because of who she hangs out with, Lua has the reputation of a “bad girl” around school. You’ve never spoken to her before, and never wanted to, but through a chance encounter, you begin to realize that everything you’d thought you knew about her was wrong. Fem!Reader.

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: FINALLY, I finished it. This idea started off small and then I just kept writing more and more because I love Lua and I love these types of AUs. Also disclaimer I still know next to nothing about ballet so I’m sorry if I butchered anything here. Anyway I’m so glad you guys enjoyed this long self-indulgent fic, and stan Weki Meki (and Lua).

Part 1 Part 2

When Friday morning rolled around and your alarm went off, forcing you to wake up, you rolled over and stared at your phone. You knew your face was puffy from all the crying you’d done the night before, and your throat was still a bit sore, making it even harder to wake up. Today was the night of the ballet performance, but it was also the last day; after today, you would no longer be dating Lua.

The idea made you sadder than you would have thought when this all began, and you shoved your head into the pillow, trying not to be so negative. As much as you wanted to tell your parents to call you in sick, you knew you needed to go to your classes. This wasn’t worth ruining your hard-earned grades over, and you had tests coming up.

Sighing, you sat up and picked up your phone, blinking your eyes sleepily. There was a text, and the name of the sender jolted you awake.

-I won’t be at school today, we have rehearsal :( See you tonight?

You stared at the text, heart thumping in your chest. Hyunjin and Heejin had been right, it seemed. Lua did still want to see you.

-I’ll be there. What time?

-Starts at 7pm but my friends always come early to get good seats

-Will do

You put down your phone and rubbed your face, steeling yourself as you stumbled out of bed.

It was going to be a long day.

“You look like you didn’t sleep,” Hyunjin said when you sat down, making you groan.

“Why are you always like this to me. You know exactly why I didn’t get enough sleep,” you said, sending her a glare with no actual malice behind it. She just smiled and reached into her bag.

“I was just saying so because I think you’ll need this.” She held out a new stick of makeup towards you, and you cautiously took it. “It’s concealer. It’ll help hide those dark circles under your eyes.”

“Like I’ll know how to use it correctly,” you said, looking down at the object in your hand. “You know good and well that my makeup limit is foundation and some mascara, if I’m feeling brave.”

“At least try. Heejin and I can’t come over tonight to help but I thought I’d give you that.” You raised your eyebrows.

“Why? You guys have a hot date or something?” Hyunjin nodded and flipped her hair.

“You guessed it. I’m taking her out tonight.”

“Have fun,” you said, smiling at your friend as you slipped the makeup into your bag.

“Thanks. We totally will.”

The teacher opened the door, interrupting the conversation, but when you glanced back at Hyunjin, she mouthed a “good luck” and winked. You rolled your eyes at her, but it made you feel better, a little bit. Maybe today wouldn’t be as bad as you’d thought.

You hadn’t eaten lunch with your friends in what felt like ages, so when you approached the group, they all cheered.

“Hey, it’s (Y/N), Lua’s girlfriend!” Soyeon yelled, and Chaeyoung elbowed her, giving her a look as you winced and sat down.

“Not really. That was a week thing, remember?” Your friends looked at you, confused.

“Really? You guys seemed really into each other, though,” Chaewon said, tilting her head. “What happened?” You shrugged.

“It’s a long story. I’ve missed you guys, though.”

“We’ve missed you too,” Dami said, scooting closer to put her head on your shoulder. “But are you okay? That’s the most important thing.” You smiled and nodded, looking around at the girls you’d come to be close to.

“Yeah. As long as I have you guys backing me up, I’m good.”

“Awe, (Y/N),” Seoyeon said, putting her hand to her chest. Chaeyoung looked at you, eyebrows raised.

“Is everything a secret, or?” You shook your head and began to unpack the first homemade lunch you’d had in a week.

“No, I’ll tell everyone. Are you guys ready for the long story?” Dami sat up and nodded, looking all too interested, and the rest of them crowded closer. Chaewon pulled her tissues out of her bag, like she knew she might need them, and you took a deep breath. “Well, it started like this.”

Eating lunch with your friends and getting everything off your chest made you feel lighter, and there was a little smile on your face as you headed to your next class. You could still feel eyes on your back, but you didn’t let it bother you, knowing that you were just going to have to get used to it no matter what happened.

If you and Lua started dating for real, people would stare at you because you were the one who took her away, and if Lua rejected you, people would stare at you because you were the nerd who thought you had a chance. Either way, you were going to be the center of attention for a little while. So you needed to get used to it.

“Hey, (Y/N)?” You stopped in your tracks and turned around to see Yoojung standing there with Doyeon behind her. She gave you a big grin and threw her arms around you in a hug, while Doyeon stood with a hand on her hip and the trace of a smile on her lips. “What’s up? We haven’t seen you in forever!” It had only been a week, right?

“Um, nothing much. Just, going to my next class, like usual.” Yoojung let you go and nodded, glancing at her watch.

“We still have a few minutes, and we’re close to your classroom, right? Can we talk for a moment?” You weren’t going to get beat up or anything, were you?

You nodded. “Sure. What’s up?”

The two girls looked at each other, and then Doyeon stepped forward.

“We just want to know something. About Lua.” Your heart started up at the sound of her name, and you swallowed, feeling your cheeks getting hot. “Do you like her?”

“Uh-.” Yoojung didn’t let you finish searching for the words you were looking for before she spoke.

“We just need to know if you’re serious about her or not. Lua is a really sensitive person and we don’t want her getting hurt.” You waved your hands quickly.

“I’d never hurt her! Not on purpose, anyway. I- I’m serious about her. I really like her.” A slow smile made it’s way across Doyeon’s face, and Yoojung let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank goodness. I knew you were a good person and you wouldn’t lead her on but we had to make sure, you know?” You smiled nervously at them.

“I get it.”

“You’re going to her ballet performance tonight, right?” You nodded your head, and Yoojung grinned. “Great! We’ll pick you up. Chaeyoung said she’s going with you, so just have her text us your address, okay?” The bell rang, and you winced. You were late. Quickly, Yoojung waved. “See you tonight!”

“See you.” You turned as you waved and made your way towards your classroom, giving the teacher an apologetic smile as you entered.

Yoojung’s words hung in your head, and you found yourself spacing out thinking about them. Did this mean that Lua had talked about you to them? Or had they just noticed it too? This meant for sure that Lua liked you back, right? Although, her friends could just be guessing.

Sighing, you shook your head and tried to focus again, even though everything seemed to be getting more and more complicated as the day went by. Would you really be able to go through with this?

“It’s just concealer, I can do that much.” Chaeyoung’s voice echoed in your bathroom as she picked up the makeup Hyunjin had given you earlier, grinning. “This is the easy stuff.”

“To you,” you muttered, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You were wearing the same amount of makeup you usually did at school, other than the lipstick you’d put on and the concealer that Chaeyoung was now using on your dark circles. You’d done your hair and picked out an outfit that still felt you, but that was a little bit nicer than your school or casual clothes. This was a ballet performance, after all.

“What time did Yoojung say they’d be getting here?” She asked as she peered close, applying the concealer.

“She didn’t say, but Lua sent me a text this morning saying that her friends are always early, so they should be here soon.”

“I’m glad I sent them the address as soon as I got here, then.” She pulled away and capped the concealer again, setting it down. “See? No more dark circles.” You looked into the mirror and turned your head slightly, admiring how well the concealer had worked. Maybe this was something you needed to learn, especially during exam season when you hardly slept at all.

“Thank you,” you said, at the same time that the doorbell rang, signalling Yoojung and Doyeon’s arrival. You stood up, but Chaeyoung darted out of the room ahead of you, beating even your parents to the door.

“Welcome!” She said as she opened the door, making you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“This is my house, Chaeyoung.”

“I pretty much live here anyway,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders before turning back to Yoojung and Doyeon, who seemed very amused. “Are you guys ready?”

“Ready if you are,” Doyeon said, spinning her keys on her finger. You suddenly felt self-conscious, knowing what kind of life Doyeon lived, and grabbed your purse from the chair beside the door.

“Alright, let’s go,” you said, ushering Chaeyoung out and waving at your parents, who were looking curiously around the kitchen corner. “I’ll be back later!”

Doyeon owned a brand-new BMW, but you weren’t even surprised. Of course she would have such a nice car, if what you’d seen at the party was any indication of her life.

“Buckle in, I don’t wanna lose my license,” Doyeon said as she started the car, looking at you and Chaeyoung through the rear-view mirror. Immediately, the two of you obeyed, buckling up as Doyeon pulled away from the house and onto the main road.

Yoojung turned on some 2NE1 and began to sing and rap along, getting Chaeyoung to join in, but you couldn’t make yourself join in. Your heart was beating like crazy and you could feel your palms sweating as you looked out the window, unable to calm yourself down. The tickets and the keychain sat in your purse (you’d checked on them multiple times to make sure they were there), but as the car neared the venue, you could feel the confidence you’d gotten from your friends dwindling. You hadn’t seen Lua at all since she’d left you in the library the day before, and you felt just as nervous as you’d been at the party. It was like all the courage you’d gained throughout the week had been destroyed the day before.

You took a couple breaths to try and calm yourself, closing your eyes. But you saw Lua behind your eyelids, smiling so wide that the dimples beneath her eyes were showing. You saw that smile that had become so familiar, and quickly opened your eyes again, knowing that your cheeks were flushed. It hadn’t helped at all, and now Doyeon was pulling into the parking lot, and you were even more nervous than you’d been when you were leaving.

“Ready?” Chaeyoung asked, reaching over to grab your hand, and you gave her a weak smile.

“Not really, but I’m getting there.” She gave you an affectionate grin.

“You’ll be okay, I promise.” She gave your hand one last squeeze before she let go to open her door and get out, and you did feel a little better. Still, you took one last deep breath before getting out yourself, steadying yourself as much as you could.

The venue was huge, much bigger than you’d thought it would be, and you looked around with wide eyes.

“Wow,” Chaeyoung said, taking the words out of your mouth, and Yoojung laughed.

“Right? Lua’s ballet company is widely known, so they always have huge shows. They’re all crazy good, too.”

“So impressive,” you said, mouth dropping open as you took in the crowd waiting to get in. “When she said get here early, she wasn’t joking.” Doyeon nodded and held up her tickets.

“Yeah, but we have special passes since we’re close to her. Come on, we’ll get our seats and everything and then we can see her backstage.” Your heart jumped again, but you let Doyeon and Yoojung lead you over to the ticket booth as you pulled your tickets from your purse.

The girl behind the counter gave you and Chaeyoung a once-over, probably because she’d seen neither of you before, but she let you both in with Doyeon and Yoojung, handing both of you back half of your ticket.

“You’ll use that to get backstage,” Yoojung explained, pointing to the ‘exclusive access’ portion of the ticket as the four of you made your way into the almost-empty auditorium. A few other people milled around, other friends and family, and Doyeon suddenly stopped and turned around.

“Hey, (Y/N), we’ll go ahead and get the seats, why don’t you go back and see Lua now? She’s in the fourth fitting room.” Your heart stopped for a moment and your eyes widened.

“Alone?”

“Yep,” all three girls said together, and you resisted the urge to whimper. But the keychain still sat in your purse, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to give it to her with everyone there. So you squared your shoulders and glanced around.

“Where do I go?”

It was easier than you had expected to find the fitting rooms, but your hand hesitated as you brought it up to knock on her door. Would she be happy to see her, or would you end up upsetting her? This wouldn’t mess up her performance, would it?

Your mouth felt dry, but you mustered all the courage hiding behind your anxiety and knocked.

You heard shuffling on the other side of the door, and Lua calling a quick “hang on!” Your heart beat hard in your chest, and you knew that your cheeks were flushed as you fidgeted with your fingers, moving from foot to foot.

When Lua finally opened the door, her eyes widened when they met yours. She looked different than she usually did, her hair slicked back in braids and her makeup done with a more feminine precision, turning her into the character Dorothy. She was in slippers, but she had on the dress that she’d be wearing for the show, the iconic blue and white dress, cut just a little shorter than usual to give her a full range of motion as she danced. She looked cute, and it made your heart skip a beat. The butterflies were back.

“Hey,” you said for a lack of anything else to say, giving her a small smile. She blinked, seeming to finally realize what was happening, and quickly stepped to the side, smiling back at you.

“(Y/N)! You made it!”

“I did. Doyeon, Yoojung, and Chaeyoung are with me, but they went to go get seats.” When she closed the door, the room felt like it got smaller, but you tried to ignore it as you stood awkwardly in the middle, unsure of what to do.

“Oh, you can sit down in one of the chairs! It’s just me using this room and the makeup artist already left,” she said, gently touching your arm to lead you over to a small seating area at the opposite side of the mirrors. Carefully, you sat down, allowing space for her to sit down next to you. “I’m glad you made it.” She was telling the truth, you could tell it from the way she said it, and it soothed your nerves.

“I’m glad I made it too,” you said, trying to keep it lighthearted as you looked at her. Wow, had you missed her smile. And it had only been a day. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, confident! I was a little nervous before but our rehearsals went well so I feel better.” She tugged at one of the braids, letting out a soft laugh. “I bet I look weird right now, though.”

“No, you look cute.” The words came out on their own, like they had been since you met her, and you could feel your cheeks heating up again. But you didn’t regret it, especially when it made her ears turn pink and her eyes get a little wider.

“Oh, really?”

“Really. I like the braids.” A wide smile, one that showed those dimples you liked so much, broke across her face, and she looked down at her hair again.

“Thank you.” The air still felt a bit awkward, but the thickness that had been there when you first arrived had gotten lighter, and when her hand moved over to cover yours, it felt right. For a moment, the two of you just sat there, not saying anything. Then, swallowing, you turned to look at her again.

“Um, I got you something.” Again, her eyes widened as she looked at you, curiosity crossing her face. Quickly, you reached into your purse and pulled out the keychain, displaying it to her before you could have second thoughts. Her mouth dropped open, and she slowly brought up her hand to touch the ballerina charm, almost like she couldn’t believe her eyes. “I meant to give it to you yesterday, but....” You trailed off for a moment before picking back up, not wanting things to feel awkward again. “I figured it might give you good luck before the show tonight. And I really wanted you to have it.”

There was something unreadable and soft in her eyes as she picked up the keychain and looked from it to you, and then back again.

“Wait, when did you get this?”

“When we were at the mall Wednesday,” you admitted, “when I said that I was going to buy the book keychain, I did it so that you wouldn’t suspect anything. You looked so excited when you saw it, I just.... Wanted to see you smile like that again.” She held the keychain to her chest, mouth slightly open, searching for the words to say.

“I.... Thank you. I don’t know what else to say, this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” she said, voice wavering, and you panicked a bit. She was wearing full show makeup, and you’d never meant to make her cry. But then she surged forward and wrapped her arms around you, holding you tight. It was the first time she’d hugged you, the first time she’d done anything other than hold your hand, and for a moment, you froze up.

Slowly, you brought your arms up to hug her back, breathing in the smell of her perfume as you fell for her even further. She was so warm, and you didn’t want to pull away.

“Lua, you have five minutes!” An unfamiliar voice broke the moment from the door, and Lua quickly pulled away, wiping gently at her eyes before looking back up and you and giving you a smile so brilliant it outshone that florescent lighting of the room.

“Sorry. It looks like I’ve got to go.”

“That’s okay!” You jumped up from your seat and closed your purse, eyes moving across her face to make sure you hadn’t messed up her makeup in any way. Thankfully, everything still looked amazing, and you smiled at her. “Good luck. I’m looking forward to seeing your performance,” you said, moving towards the door. She stood up as well and seemed to be debating whether to say something as she walked you to the door.

When you stood just outside the door, and her just inside, she stopped.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

“You’re making it really hard not to like you.”

Your head was spinning has you made your way over to where your friends were sitting, so spaced out that it was a miracle you didn’t trip and fall. As you got closer, you could see that the rest of Lua’s friends had joined, but that there was a seat left for you between Chaeyoung and Yoojung.

“How’d it go?” A voice sounded behind you and you jumped, spinning around to come face-to-face with Doyeon.

“Um.” You didn’t know what to say, because you were still processing what Lua had said. Was that a good thing? A bad thing? You’d been unable to respond because the stage manager had come up and shooed you away, so you were stuck with her words whirling around in your head. Her raised her eyebrows.

“(Y/N)?”

“I-I don’t know how to explain it,” you said, looking down at the floor. You hardly knew Doyeon, and she was still intimidating to be along with. But to your surprise, she put her hand on your shoulder.

“That’s alright. Why don’t we go sit back down with Chaeyoung, and if you’re comfortable, you can tell us about it then?” You looked at her, touched that she somehow seemed to know exactly how you were feeling.

“Thanks. I’d like that.”

All eyes were on you when you stepped up to your chair, and Lua’s friends waved at you, some of them looking a bit curious. What had they been expecting to happen when you went back there?

“How did it go?” Chaeyoung asked as you sat down, echoing Doyeon’s words from earlier. But with Chaeyoung there, you felt more comfortable, and you’d had a little bit more time to process it now.

“Well…. I don’t know.” Everyone’s eyes were on you, and you swallowed. “I gave her the keychain.”

“Did she like it?” Chaeyoung reached over to put her hand over yours, calming your nerves down a bit.

“I think so. But she said something.” As you spoke, everyone leaned in closer, and the lights dimmed. You glanced around, shutting your mouth, but Yoojung waved her hand.

“You’re good, the band will play before the show starts. What did she say?” Having everyone looking at you made you a bit uncomfortable, but you figured they should know. They were Lua’s friends, they might know what she meant.

So you told them what she’d said, and watched as their eyes widened and they looked at each other. Chaeyoung’s grip on your hand tightened and her other hand came up to cover her mouth.

“Wow. So she really does like you,” Suyeon said, eyebrows raising as she turned to look at Elly beside her. “I didn’t believe it at first.”

“Not because there’s anything wrong with you,” Elly clarified for her, “it’s just that Lua hasn’t liked anyone since… well, you know.” You glanced over at Chaeyoung, who gave you a sheepish smile.

“I told them that we knew about everything because Yoojung brought it up. I hope you don’t mind?”

“I don’t,” you assured her, shaking your head and looking up at the stage. Her friends had said it themselves, and as much as you could hardly believe it, it had to be true: Lua liked you too. The butterflies started up again and your heart squeezed in your chest, and you wondered if this was what it felt like to be in love. You’d never felt any of this before, and it was a bit overwhelming, but in a good way.

The other girls looked like they wanted to say something, but the band had finished playing and the curtains were raising, so they settled back in their seats instead. Swallowing, you sat back and put your hand over your chest, willing your heart to calm down as the show started.

If Lua was cute doing everyday things, here she was stunning. From the moment that she came on stage, you couldn’t take your eyes off her. When you’d been with her, she’d shown that she could be slightly clumsy. She was known to be a tomboy and enjoy comfortable clothes and her mouth dropped open slightly when she slept and she was so incredibly loud when she talked and laughed.

But onstage, she was graceful and beautiful, another side to the girl you were still learning so much about. You were sure the audience would never guess what she acted like offstage, because she was so good. She never missed a step and her facial expressions were perfect, taking your breath away every time she was onstage.

As the ballet neared the climax, her eyes met yours in the crowd, and she smiled that brilliant smile that made your heart jump and stop. She was beautiful. And you really, really liked her.

The final dance ended, and the entire cast came onstage to bow, but you still couldn’t take your eyes off Lua. Somehow you even drowned out the clapping around you, and for a moment, her eyes met yours and it felt like the two of you were the only two in the auditorium. It was when she looked away that you made up your mind.

You weren’t going to be afraid anymore. You were going to pursue this, no matter where it took you.

After the show had finished, you made your way back to her dressing room again, following the familiar path with your heart beating hard inside your chest. Everyone else was somewhere behind you, but you were only focused on the path ahead of you that led to her.

The door was open slightly, and you didn’t hesitate this time when you reached up to knock on the door.

When she answered, she was smiling, strands of hair falling out of the braids and her cheeks flushed with excitement and exertion. She still looked so cute and pretty after giving it her best, eyes sparkling as she stepped to the side to let you in.

“(Y/N)! Did you enjoy the show?” You gave her a smile, opting to stand in front of her this time as she shut the door.

“I did. You were incredible up there.” She beamed, positively glowing, and reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Thank you, I-.” If you didn’t say it now, you’d lose the courage to say it ever. So you interrupted her, rushing over your words.

“You know, you make it hard not to like you too.” You caught her off guard and her eyes widened, mouth dropping slightly open before her entire face flushed and she brought her hand up to cover her mouth.

“W-wait, you-? What do you mean?” It was such a cute reaction, and you knew your cheeks were flushed too as you let out a nervous laugh.

“I like you, Lua. More than just as a friend.” It was like a million emotions went across her face at once.

“Since when?” She asked, slowly bringing her hand down.

“I don’t really know, honestly. Tuesday? Wednesday?” It was embarrassing to admit it and you had to fight the urge to escape the situation.

“Oh my god. This entire time, I’ve been trying not to like you, and you’ve liked me back? I didn’t have to worry about anything?” She groaned and stepped forward, putting her head on your shoulder, and you didn’t really know what to do.

“I’m sorry? I didn’t know you liked me either.” She let out a sigh, but when she brought her head up to look at you again, she was smiling.

“You don’t have to apologize. We were both a little dumb. I’m just not used to all this stuff.”

“Same here. I’ve never dated anyone,” you said, regretting it almost immediately as your face flushed again and you glanced down at the floor out of embarrassment.

“Wow, really?”

“Yeah, I mean, who wants to date the math nerd?” You said, trying to joke the awkwardness away.

“I do.” She had to stop saying stuff like this, because your heart couldn’t take it. “Also, here’s a little secret. I’ve only dated one person I really liked.”

“But you’ve dated plenty of people,” you pointed out.

“It’s not like I really do anything with them other than maybe hold their hand. I don’t do any of the things with them that... that I want to do with you.”

“Oh-.”

“Can I kiss you?” It came so out of the blue, but her eyes were so earnest, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss her too.

“I’ll probably be bad at it,” you said, voice wavering.

“You won’t know unless you try.” She was so... magnetic. You found yourself moving closer, as if your body had a mind of its own. Every bit of you just wanted to be held by her.

“Then yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, you can kiss me.” She grinned at your words and leaned forward, taking you into her arms. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, shy because you didn’t really know what to do, and she brought a hand up to cup your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed at her touch, and the next thing you knew, she was kissing you.

It took you a moment to tentatively kiss her back, pulling her closer without realizing exactly what you were doing.

And then she was pulling away, and both of you had matching pink cheeks. Her eyes met yours, and both of you burst into giggles, leaning back into each other.

“You aren’t bad,” she said, eyes sparkling. “But I don’t think it would hurt to teach you some more.” The butterflies started up again and you gave her a look, trying and failing to not smile.

“Your friends will be here any minute.”

“What? So they can’t see me kissing you?”

“It’s embarrassing,” you whined, and she beamed, letting her forehead fall against yours. She was so beautiful up-close, and for the first time, you noticed how dark and deep her eyes were. You could feel yourself falling into them, because they were focused on you, and only you.

“Just one more kiss,” she said, voice a whisper, and you couldn’t resist her. Everyone would probably burst through the door at any moment, and it would be embarrassing, and the two of you would probably never be able to live it down. But she was warm and inviting and your lips tingled for the chance to taste her again, so you couldn’t bring yourself to care, letting your eyes flutter closed.

“Just one more.”

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