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tuliprry · 2 years

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sunbeam

prompt: ballerina!yn x barista!harry, y/n is a ballerina and harry works at the café in the same building, both have a little crush on each other

warnings: fluff, mentions of ed, christmas

word count: 1.7k

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

the pointe shoes clicked and clacked around her, she was sitting down still wearing her leather split soles with ribbons. most of the girls in this class were more advanced than y/n, this was her fourth month in this ballet class for adults, truth be told the first time y/n walked into the ballet class she was looking for the yoga room, right next door, but the teacher was nice and convinced her to try at least just one class.

so here she is in a pink maillot, pink tights, beige wrap skirt and the beige coloured sole shoe with matching ribbons, her hair is up in a bun with her curtain bangs falling out, the brown warm-up shrug sat on top of her dance bag. outside, london was covered in rain, y/n could shiver just thinking about walking to the tube in this weather, she quickly smiled to herself thinking about getting a latte downstairs from the cute barista.

harry. harry is his name, he has messy curly brown hair, usually partly up with a black clip, he is tall, like way too tall compared to y/n that says she’s 153cm but she’s actually 3cm shorter than that, he is always singing while making orders, y/n thinks he sounds like an angel, she also thinks it’s the most cliché thought she’s ever had.

he has the schedule of the classes on his phone, he likes to know when y/n is coming, his heart fluttered when she came in the other day to work, he peeked a little and asked her what she was doing, he learned that y/n was a photographer and her latest project was women from various ages and their portraits, from a 6 year old to a 81 year old. he was so intrigued, he wanted to be a writer, a poet even but would find himself without a single thought in his mind and a blank page in front of him. so he envied y/n for a hot minute, for being a photographer and a ballerina and for keeping his mind racing thinking of her… most of the time.

the class ended and y/n put her skirt and sole shoes in the dance bag, dressed a pair of white sweatpants, white sneakers and the brown warm-up shrug, holding a big brown coat on her arm, to be only worn once she left the building. the other ballerinas ran outside to smoke, y/n hasn’t been able to befriend none of them, mostly by lack of trying, she liked her own little cosy space and getting out of her shell wasn’t easy. also she doesn’t smoke. or has even tried. the feeling of being out of place is always there, the pointe shoes, the smoking and her maillot being a size extra large.

“if i have to make another special christmas baby jesus toasted white mocha i’m quite literally going to commit a crime so big” harry sighed to his co-worker, charlie, “y’might want to calm down harry, your ballerina is coming downstairs right now”, harry immediately turned around, trying to fluff his hair and accidentally hitting the black clip, “fucking christ”, he whimpered hoping she hadn’t seen his stupid moment. “hello harry” she smiled at him still gripping onto the dance bag. “y/n! i didn’t know you were coming today” liar. “d’ya want your usual? please don’t ask me for a santa inspired drink i’m so tired of those”, y/n just smiled at the man in front of her, he was usually expressive and that was something that got her hooked. “actually, can you make me an oat milk hot cocoa? it looks freezing out and i need a boost before i go on the tube” harry looked to the glass doors to make sure the weather was still shit and then mouthed a small okay.

“y/n i was wondering, would it be okay if we exchanged numbers? i mean, i want to ask you out and fuck i mean-“ harry’s words are slurring in front of her, she’s still drinking her hot cocoa in a heart shaped mug and so is harry, taking his 10 minute break to just make a fool out of himself in front of y/n. “when do you wanna go out?” she says placing the mug back on the table trying to look calm and collected. “are you free tonight?”

harry had never seen y/n out of her ballet clothes, he had tried looking for her on instagram but it seemed impossible having only her first name and knowing she lives in london, he was so eager to see her coming out of the convent garden station, “not nervous shits, not now” he thought to himself, he was leaning on a lamp post, to y/n this was a scene out of a 00s brit rom-com, indulged them so much as a child she now craved a story like that for herself.

speeding up the stairs from the tube, she was wearing a silk pink dress with a square neck and long sleeves, flowing to her wrists, sheer tights and cognac platform mary janes, the same long brown coat from earlier today, on top a light brown shoulder bag, matching her shoes. harry was wearing dark brown pants with lighter brown stripes and a rosy beige shirt with the same light brown stripes, y/n could see him from inside the station, he was adjusting his almost to the feet long black coat and rubbing his hands to try and warm them up a bit.

then he saw her, loose hair with long curls that fell on her shoulders like pieces of a puzzle, walking up to him with a smile on her face, he took close attention to all details about her, the lipstick that matched the dress, her eyeliner that he would swear it has to have taken her forever to do and the pink leg warmers he knew so hell peeking out of her shoulder bag. “hey! can we please walk to the place? it’s freezing and i didn’t have where to sit on the tube to put my leg warmers on”, he was still mind fucked about her presence, she was like a sunbeam on the london dark rainy evening, “hello…. yeah, do you want my help? ..for the leg warmers? i can hold your stuff”, harry felt little, even thought he was 30 centimetres taller than the girl in front him.

harry was on cloud nine learning about this girl, she was also a vegetarian, making his little heart do flutters at a shared love for animals, she has a cat named oli, she thought oli was a boy and named it oliver so y/n changed the name to oli, harry also has a cat, a little patched tabby cat named poppy. “what is speaking to you?” harry asks pointing at the menu, “ummm the fiori di zucca repieni di ricotta sounds too good to pass on, do you wanna share?” his mouth opened, speechless, “you speak italian?” he asked, “yeah i did erasmus in rome!” she said enthusiastically, “i trust you, let’s share then”

the dinner was filled with laugher, lots of sharing their food and drinking really good wine, they even shared a pistachio gelato afterwards, even though it was freezing out and the news had mentioned a possible storm. “do you ever think.. of what you want to do outside of being a barista?” y/n asked, her hand was intertwined with harry’s as they walked outside convent garden market, “oh all the time, i really want to be a writer, a poet. my muse just has been asleep lately, every time i try to write it’s like my mind gets blank” he’s honest, writing has been the last thing on his mind, working part time at the café as well as doing a little freelancer for some newspapers and magazines harry has little to no time to fully write, “it’s a curse being creative harry, i get it. i really do.” they’re walking past the royal opera house and y/n stops, lets go of harry's hand and just stares, as a child it was a dream to be part of the royal ballet and perform right there, instead she takes an adult class with other people that couldn’t attain that dream. she doesn’t resent herself or the dreams she used to have, she loves her life right now, it’s just that little tingly feeling of tiny y/n wanting this so badly.

“what are you thinking about y/n?” harry asked, placing the now lonely hand on her back, gently caressing it, "sorry, i just haven't walked past the royal opera in a bit", y/n turned to harry with an it's okay look on her face and grabbed his hand again, "dance for me", harry blurred out, he didn't really filter his thoughts at this point of the night, he wanted to see her dance so badly his heart was finally speaking over his brain, "right here? in the middle of the street?" y/n is a little perplexed but the idea grows inside of her.

they're now at harry's house, y/n opened spotify on her phone and pressed play on better version by sabrina claudio, this isn't what she usually dances to but she feels free with harry, taking her shoes off, standing barefoot in harry's cedar coloured carpet.

i made the perfect you in my head, cause physically you are the blue print

her hips moved to the rhythm and she found herself repeating what she had been rehearsing fot the last four months in class, harry was mesmerised, not that she was the greatest ballerina in the world but she was to him, he could not get his eyes off of her, following the movement attentively, almost like burning this moment on his brain so he would never forget, the core memory of actually falling in love with this girl

when the song ends, harry pulls y/n to his lap and just whispers sweet nothings in her ear, brushing his fingers through her arms and hair, just enjoying her late night company, he's a hopeless romantic and has been finding the right moment to kiss her and tell, tell everyone possible in the world that he has kissed such a pretty girl it has the pasta on his stomach doing flips.

"can i kiss you?"

"fuck yes please"

#harry styles imagine #harry fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #harry styles au #tuliprry #harry x reader #barista!harry #ballerina!yn #older!harry

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cupid-styles · 2 months

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#I just want you know that I may possibly have evil ideas for elongating the angst between hockey h and ballerina yn for like ever #I want them to permanently be in the will-they-wont-they stage

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jihyoruri · 4 months

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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 NOBODY KNOWS kazuha nakamura x reader

warnings: yn is apart of kiss of life, yn is cheeky, kazuha is lowkey dying the whole time, swearing, fluff

kazuha watched as yunjin smiled at her friend that was across the room with her group who smiled back, both lesserafim and kiss of life were doing a knowing bros episode together and kazuha was finding it hard to not pay attention to a certain member of the other group.

yn just had a pulling aura to her that has had kazuha hypnotized ever since she’s met the older girl, she was lively,flirty and loud, a huge contrast to kazuha’s introverted personality.

“yn!” one of the guys yells grabbing the girls attention from her friend and she replies back with yes as loud as his completely matching the energy.

“you’re looking at yunjin a lot is she your bias.” he asks pointing to the lesserafim member who waits for her best friends response.

“nah,” yn says shaking her head causing yunjin’s mouth to drop in offence as everyone laughs, “my bias is kazuha, she’s a ballerina I’m an ice skater we go together really well.”

kazuha’s face heats up as her members ohhs at the girls comment teasing her which was a complete contrast to yn’s who hit the girl at her sly comment.

“ah, leave her alone!” yunjin yells pointing at her best friend across from her, yn only responding with a small smirk.

the interview went on for a little more with mostly yn and yunjin the loud members of their groups answering the questions and yell at each other from across the room but now it was time to play a game.

“yn! you are the victim of this game.”

“you will go against someone of the opposite group and you will standing across each other,” one of the guys start, “and we have a clip here that will monitor your heart beat, the person who gets the other person’s heart beat to speed up wins.” he finishes before giving a hat with the names of the lesserafim members to yn.

yn scans the girls while she shakes the hat, her eyes stop at the girl who was trying her best to avoid her eyes, “I hope I get sakura unnie.” she says teasingly, smiling when kazuha tenses when sakura lets out a flustered laugh.

there’s silence when yn pulls the name out of the hat a smile instantly making its way to her face, she brings the paper up to show everyone the names

kazuha.

before kazuha knows it she’s getting pushed to the middle by eunchae, while yunjin sends a pointed look to yn who ignores and smiles at her members before walking towards the younger girl.

while they get both yn and kazuha hooked up to the monitor, kazuha feels like her whole body is on fire as yn keeps her gaze on her and smiles at the fact that the girl is already flustered.

she does this on purpose, is all kazuha could think to herself.

once they’re finished getting hooked up both groups cheer for their members one more confident than the other.

kazuha instantly knows she’s gonna lose when all yn did was walk closer to her and she felt her heart rate speed up.

“oh!” one of the guys yell pointing at the monitor that showed kazuha’s heart rate.

she feels her face heart up when she hears yn’s laugh.

“she’s gonna kill the poor girl” she hears your member natty whisper.

and she was right every single thing yn did had the girl folding, kazuha knew it was over when yn leaned even more closer with a pretty smile on her face, she wasn’t even shock when she heard the dinging indicating that kazuha’s heart rate went completely up.

yn let a cheer and made her way to her members who shake her in victory, all girls being very competitive.

“she didn’t even have to do anything to get your heart rate up.” chaewon yells, “what happened?” she laughs patting kazuha’s shoulder who just looks down in embarrassment as the rest of her members join in on the teasing, she just couldn’t wait for the filming to be over.

kazuha leaned against the wall and drank out of her bottle of water while her members talked to some of the staff, she couldn’t wait to go home.

“can I have a sip?” she turns to head to see a certain kiss of life member, zipping up her white fluffy jacket and fixing her leg warmers after.

she immediately gives the bottle to the girl who takes a sip out of it before letting out an exaggerated “ahh”

kazuha just stares at the girl who lets out a light hearted laugh, “what? you’re mad I got your heart rate up?” she asks teasingly.

kazuha pouts slightly and looks down which makes yn let out another laugh before adjusting the expensive headband on her head before bringing kazuha’s arm over her shoulder, urging the girl to walk with her.

“don’t be embarrassed.” she says pressing a kiss to the girl’s cheek, “ it’s cute how fast you got flustered.”

“leave me alone.” kazuha mumbles, her face heating up, “I was so obvious.”

“no you weren’t.” yn says pressing a kiss to the other side of kazuha’s cheek, “I mean come on it’s me, anyone would be flustered.”

kazuha rolls her eyes at the girls ego, “you also said you wanted it to be sakura unnie.” she says accusingly.

“I mean, who wouldn’t?” yn asks causing kazuha’s face to drop.

“I’m joking!” she laughs, “no need to get jealous zuha.” she added before finally placing a kiss on the girls lips which causing kazuha to melt completely and kiss yn back.

yn brings her hand to kazuha’s cheek depending the kiss causing the girl to smile.

“hey! kazuha, I’ve been looking for you everywhere, we’re ready to g-”

kazuha hits her forehead on yn’s accidentally at the sound of yunjin’s voice, both girls jumping away from each other immediately.

“ow!”

yunjin looks at her member and best friend in shock at what she just witnessed.

“what the fuck?”

#lesserafim x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha nakamura x reader #lesserafim kazuha #kazuha #kazuha nakamura #lesserafim fluff #girl group imagines #girl group fluff

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two-white-butterflies · 8 months

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archer | c16

Description: "All of my enemies started out friends, help me hold unto you." After a series of instagram posts - your ex-friend fabricates screenshots that almost end your career.

Author's Note: Inspired after listening to reputation.

natacha_ziguerra added to their story!

caption: y/n nation, this yo girl?

replies

ultraviolencekanada: CHAT, IS THIS REAL?

DARKLINGHOMIE23: She is messy

yourusername16: i never typed this thing before, tacha wtf ⁉️

yourusername16: ur broke ass got nothing to eat anymore? 💀

natacha_ziguerra: Ya'll may have seen my story and I just wanna let ya'll know that this girl has done so much worse... all the deets are in my patreon ... ya'll help a girl out. (Prices start at $5 Dollars.)

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yourusername16: what is this broke-ass behavior? boo i can pay for you and ur patreon, this isn't sum wattpad social media au bs.

yourusername16: trust, i will be in contact with my lawyers. - natacha_ziguerra: BABE you've been talking shit about so MANY popstars, Ari, Sza, Lehlani, Lana... you can call your lawyers but this aint slander because I'm telling the truth. ❤️ - yourusername16: @natacha_ziguerra 💀

yourusername16: your nemesis will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing. now he's passing by, rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky. camera credits to my baby: @Charles_Leclerc16

liked by danielricciardo and 1,293,012 others

comments

ohnoloveme3: YN IS OVER PARTY

righthere99: YN IS OVER 🐍

Charles_Leclerc16: I'm proud of you for being strong ❤️

danielricciardo: You are one of the strongest women that I know. - heidiberger: 💗 stay strong yn!

kellypiquet: True power comes from the truth. You can do this! ✨

Charles_Leclerc16: I will always support, love and respect you. ✨

liked by kellypiquet and 1,394,192 others

comments

maxverstappen1: ❤️

charlottehope8: Never believe posts that are evidently edited. Some people will use you for clout 💯

pierreGASLY: 💪🏽💗

yourusername16: Likewise, Mr. Leclerc

comments have been restricted.

TRENDING TOPICS ON TWITTER.

Y/N and Lana

Queen of Disaster

Reputation

Natacha Ziguerra Patreon

Y/N LECLERC

Y/N L/N TALKS ABOUT CANCEL CULTURE AND CYBERBULLYING.

Y/N L/N: I remember waking up - completely clueless as to why my phone was blowing up and apparently an ex-friend of mine decided to forge screenshots of me saying nasty things. And that opened up a realm of so much bullying.

Y/N L/N: I didn't love myself, I had a pretty low self esteem. While, the things that she shared weren't true - I thought that the critiques about my looks, my personality and my voice had some truth. When you don't love yourself, it's pretty easy to see your flaws.

Y/N L/N: My boyfriend, actually recommended that I take a social media break just to tune everything out. And that proved to be successful. I left the public eye for a year. I wasn't physically seen for more than a year and i't's been a wonderful journey of healing.

yourusername16: maybe reputation was the friends we made along the way...?

liked by charlottehope8 and 5,182,192 others

comments

Charles_Leclerc16: The Power of Friendship 👊🏼

charlottehope8: I love this picture

kellypiquet: We should be on the album cover. @maxverstappen1 @charlottehope8 - charlottehope8: Ditto 🤣

Charles_Leclerc16: My baby's fit like a daydream ☀️

liked by danielricciardo and 1,282,192 others

comments

yourusername16: Walking with his head down, I'm the one he's walking tooo....

comments have been restricted.

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beomgzy · 1 year

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SK8TER BOY

parings: skater!beomgyu x f!reader

genre: smau with written chapters, fluff, comedy, college au, strangers to lovers, opposites attract

synopsis: — y/n and beomgyu, complete opposites. she’s quiet while he’s loud. she’s clean while he’s messy. she’s a ballerina while he’s a skater. what will happen if these two cross paths?

featuring: the rest of txt, lesserafim’s yunjin and chaewon as y/n’s face claim , enhypen’s sunghoon, itzy’s chaeryeong, p1harmony keeho, aespa’s ningning and more.

warnings: profanity, kys/kms jokes, mentions of kissing, keeho and sunghoon, lowercase intended, incorrect time stamps, wrong hair color sometimes, overuse of emojis, yn is an idiot sometimes but it’s fine! changed ages to fit the story more, will add if anything comes up!!

start date: 02.06.23

end date: tba

update: whenever i can

status: ongoing!

author’s note: oh em gee! my first work ever.. kinda scared, kinda nervous and also kinda shitting my pants!! but i have had this idea for a while now so i’m glad to be finally putting it out!

THE GC’S

rockstars🔥 | yeonjun is old asl

01 | first i lol’d then i serious’d

02 | THE ONE☝️

03 | sent from heaven

04 | LOML

05 | thinking

06 | do it no balls

07 | buckaroo

08 | soccer mom

09 | spins and stuff

10 | mb boss🫡

11 | passions

12 | spelling bee ass

13 | miss park

14 | sugar daddy

15 | life or death

16 | two phones

taglist (open | bold: i cant tag u) : @pinkheadflowers @kissmeika @winterbear3 @bbyjjunie @mangobee @bubblytaetae @Iqdva @gyubeari @captivq @soobadooba @silkenthusiasts @choiwonderz @akemiixx01 @jjunsolos @lqbeorecs @sanasour @sullystraw @solarswonderland @ulysseszoisreallycool @beatr2x @fxiryeon @sulliefimmie @bluebearybeom @sandhyaaa-aa @jhopesucker @cookiehaos @beoms-sugar @ihrtnyu @k1ttylvr @rikizm @seulgismaterialgworl @flrtsbin @woncheecks @suzirumas @flowerbe0m @l0ve-joy @azinwo @beomsbeanie @minkyungseokie @vvenusr @satsuri3su @beobeomu @tophstwinkletoes @awmancreeper @sserafimez @sakuzleaves @a-l-i-y-a @run2seob

send an ask to be apart of the taglist!

please consider reblogging as tumblr’s algorithm runs on reblogs!

#🛹.sk8terboy #beomgyu smau #txt smau #beomgyu x reader #kpop smau #smau #txt #tomorrow x together #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #social media au #beomgyu imagine #txt imagine #txt x reader #soobin #taehyun #yeonjun #huening kai

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onlyonetifosi · 9 months

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Behind the camera: chapter 1

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

It was a warm summer afternoon in the small town of Monte Carlo, Monaco, where the Leclerc family resided. Yn and Charles, just three years old, were playing in their backyard, their laughter echoing through the air. Despite being twins, Yn and Charles had their distinct personalities and looks, yet they shared an unbreakable bond

"Charles, catch me if you can!" Yn giggled, running around the garden, her little feet barely keeping up with her enthusiasm

"Attends, Yn! I'm coming!" Charles called back, his eyes shining with excitement as he chased after his sister

Their playtime was always filled with joy and mischief, and today was no exception. Their older brother, Lorenzo, joined in the fun

"Lorenzo, regarde! Look at me!" Yn shouted as she tried to perform a somersault. "Je peux le faire! I can do it!"

Lorenzo clapped his hands, "Wow, Yn! That was great!"

Charles, feeling a little competitive, decided to show off too. "Watch this! Je vais faire un saut en hauteur! I'm going to do a high jump!"

Yn and Lorenzo watched in awe as Charles jumped, trying to touch the lowest branch of a nearby tree. He didn't quite reach it, but his attempt was still impressive.

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

In the following weeks, Yn attended her ballet classes with enthusiasm, and her love for dancing only grew. Charles, on the other hand, developed an interest in racing from a young age. Hervé, a racing enthusiast himself, couldn't be happier to see his son's passion for speed and cars. He gifted Charles a small toy race car, which quickly became his most treasured possession

"Maman, look what I can do!" Yn twirled around clumsily, trying her best to imitate the graceful movements she had seen on TV. Her parents smiled lovingly, encouraging her tiny attempt at ballet

"Très bien, ma chérie! You're doing great," her mother praised, clapping her hands. "You'll be a wonderful little ballerina!"

"Charles, you should try too!" Yn beamed, hoping her brother would join in her enthusiasm for ballet.

Charles laughed and shook his head. "No, no, Yn. I want to be a race car driver like Papa! Vroom vroom!" He pretended to steer an imaginary car, and Lorenzo enthusiastically joined in the play

Pascale and Hervé watched their daughter with pride, celebrating every little step she took in her ballet journey. However, Yn's clumsiness soon caught the attention of the other girls in her ballet class, who began to tease and make fun of her

"Regardez-la, elle danse comme un éléphant maladroit! (Look at her, she dances like a clumsy elephant!)" one of the girls mocked, causing the others to giggle.

Yn felt her enthusiasm waning, her heart heavy with sadness. She couldn't understand why the other girls were mean to her, but she was determined not to let their words discourage her.

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

As the twins grew older, they started kindergarten, and Yn was excited to embark on this new adventure with her brother. However, things didn't go as smoothly as she had hoped. Charles, being the more outgoing and confident of the two, quickly made friends with the other children, while Yn struggled to connect with her peers

One day, after a particularly challenging day at school, Yn came home feeling downcast. She sat at the kitchen table with her parents, sharing her feelings

"Maman, Papa, pourquoi est-ce que Charles a toujours des amis, et moi, je n'en ai pas?" (Mom, Dad, why does Charles always have friends, and I don't?) Yn asked tearfully

Her parents exchanged understanding glances, and her father pulled her into a comforting hug. "Ne t'inquiète pas, ma chérie. Les amis viendront avec le temps. Tu es spéciale, tout comme ton frère." (Don't worry, my dear. Friends will come with time. You're special, just like your brother)

Yn nodded, trying to hold back her tears. She wished she could be as confident and popular as Charles, but it seemed like an impossible task

Months passed, and Yn tried her best to keep her feelings buried, not wanting to upset her brother or their parents. But one day, the weight of it all became too much to bear. Unable to hold back any longer, Yn confronted Charles during their walk home from school

"Charles, tu ne comprends pas. C'est difficile pour moi. Les autres se moquent de moi et je n'ai pas d'amis" she finally confessed, her voice quivering with emotion. (Charles, you don't understand. It's hard for me. The others make fun of me, and I have no friends)

Charles stopped in his tracks, finally seeing the pain in his sister's eyes that he had been blind to for so long "Je suis désolé, Yn. Je ne savais pas) he said, feeling regretful (I'm sorry, Yn. I didn't know)

They sat down on a nearby bench, and Yn poured her heart out to Charles about the loneliness she had been enduring. Charles listened attentively, his heart aching for his sister. He realized how selfish he had been, caught up in his own excitement without noticing the pain she was going through.

"Je suis vraiment désolé, Yn. Je ne voulais pas te faire du mal. Je serai là pour toi, quoi qu'il arrive" Charles said, his eyes filled with sincerity. (I'm truly sorry, Yn. I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll be there for you, no matter what happens)

Tears welled up in Yn's eyes as she hugged her brother tightly “Merci, Charles. Je t'aime” she whispered, feeling a rush of relief (Thank you, Charles. I love you)

From that day on, Charles made a conscious effort to include Yn in his circle of friends, and the two became inseparable. Yn also found solace in pursuing other hobbies and interests, such as drawing and storytelling, where her creativity and uniqueness were celebrated.

Their relationship grew stronger as they navigated through childhood together. Their parents often marveled at how inseparable they were, and even though they had their fair share of fights, their bond only deepened with time.

#behind the camera fic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x sister!reader #arthur leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc x sister!reader #f1 drivers x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f2 imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfiction #arthur leclerc

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newjeansgirlfriend · 2 months

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love me (hate me)

part of the series letters i'll never send

nakamura kazuha x reader

angst

dear. my bestest friend kazuha,

i’m sorry i couldnt keep our promise. i know we said we’d never keep secrets, but there’s just one that has been weighing on my mind, but couldn’t find the courage to say it to you directly. i wouldnt be able to stand your reaction, you’d probably think im disgusting and hate me right? you might already hate me, i dont know. but the truth is, i like you. maybe even love you. and i have for a long time. it’s really dumb and stupid right? but i can’t help it. you’re so pretty, and when you dance i can’t take my eyes off you. my ballerina, my beautiful ballerina, i really like you so much. i wish you were mine. i wish you could hold me in your arms and whisper i love you in my ear. i know, it’s disgusting. i even hate myself. why are you even friends with me anyways? i’m a bad person. and a worse friend.

im sorry. for everything.

love, yn.

#kazuha #nakamura kazuha #nakamura kazuha imagines #kazuha imagines #lesserafim #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim fanfic #lesserafim x reader #kazuha x reader #angst #nakamura kazuha x reader

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misted-dream · 3 months

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🦢 A WALTZ IN THE DARK ₊˚⊹ ˚ ༘ ⋆

ACT II THE PAS DE DEUX. | to the programme

chapter info . . . content just yn & dy being kinda cute at the end, mentions of injury, enemies AND lovers this time warnings smoking, alcohol consumption w. count 7.7k

series synopsis . . . the first and last time you and doyoung danced together was 5 years ago. 5 years since the mishap that founded your mistrust of him, at least as a duet partner. with the annual swan lake showing rolling around, you think you finally stand a chance to audition for the leads: odette and odile. it's every ballerina's dream to play this role at least once in their career. little do you know, rumour has it that kim doyoung just so happens to be auditioning for the role of prince siegfried this year.

tags @00127am

You thought that ever since you made that deal with Doyoung that things might be different. That he might start acting like a normal human being with normal human emotions. How silly of you to think that. Truth is, he hasn’t changed one bit since that night you bumped into him. Practices are still wordless. You still barely see him outside of your schedules. And even when you do, he pretends like he doesn’t see you, in the corridors, in the canteen, everywhere. That’s not to say that everything stayed the same.

It’s the week following your run-in with him. A Thursday, so your schedule dictates that you have duet practice with Doyoung.

“Good,” Colette calls out from her folding chair, “You two don’t look like you want to murder each other for once.” She doesn’t know what happened between you but she doesn’t care for it as long as you and Doyoung can look like you can at least tolerate each other.

It’s intimidating when you think about it. How he can go from looking so deeply infatuated one second, then the moment the music is over, his face drops. Eyebrows straightened. Just absolutely no emotion shown through his expression. You can’t help but wonder which version of him is genuine: The one who seemed truly apologetic in the dimmed practice room, or this one. The version of him that he parades around everywhere he goes. How do you even begin to tell what’s an act and what isn’t?

Every time his fingers touch you, you still feel a chill running down you. Though, you’ve come to learn how to hide it better.

Practice is finished for the night. The teal of the horizon begins to blend together with the darker blue of the night sky. Doyoung wastes no time in gathering his stuff the second Colette said that you were done for tonight. You try to do the same but Colette stops you. Her slender fingers wrapped tightly around your arm.

“Before you go, Y/N.”

She takes her hand off of your arm. The red frames of her glasses sit low on her nose bridge and she angles her head downwards to look at you, as if you’re a particularly difficult to read section of a newspaper.

“I still need to see you land those fouettés. I’m giving you one— …two weeks, before I have to intervene.”

One of her eyebrows are cocked, the brightness of her eyes do nothing but emphasise the severity in her tone. Her harshness isn’t something you’re not used to, but every time she exerts this power over you, you can’t help but feel slightly humiliated. Who wouldn’t? To have someone repeatedly on your tail felt like having them pry open a wound, and before it even has time to scab, they’re back pricking and pouring salt into it. Except that wound is found on your ego.

You take a deep breath in, and try to force your lips into an understanding smile. “Yeah,” you say in a cheery enough tone.

You suppose that’s the way it is in ballet. That’s how it is in many things in life. Everyone’s after perfection, and no one is able to execute it.

This weekend, you decide to do something you haven’t done in three weeks: Stay in.

The last three weekends you’ve spent draining yourself away at the studio, but due to Karina’s request, you decide otherwise this time.

She sends you a message telling you that she’s 5 minutes away from your place. It’s no secret that the pressure of these last few weeks have been steadily building on you, especially to Karina.

You open the wooden cupboard and pull a bottle of red wine from it, setting it onto the kitchen island in the middle of your open-plan kitchen. A soft orange paints the skyline, clouds pulling from each other like cotton candy. On one end of the kitchen island, there stood the doors leading to the balcony, enclosed by wrought iron fences. Technically speaking, it was a balcony, but in actuality, it was just a ledge—a glorified floor-to-ceiling window that you can open, really.

You push open the balcony doors and the sound of the city fills your living space. The traffic a few stories down, people’s voices from the street or coming from the open balconies to either side of your complex. You stare off into the horizon, a flock of shadowed birds flies across your field of vision over the city.

Then, a ding sounds out.

You step back inside, walking across your kitchen to the other end of the island where the main door was. You slide open the door chain and push down on the handle. The door swings inwards, and stood outside in the hallway of your apartment complex was Karina, a bright smile on her face. “I got sushi!”

You pour the red wine into a glass that you set down on the island, then another glass next to that. In one hand, you sit the bowl of one glass on the part of your hand that your fingers connect between, in the other hand, you wrap your fingers around the other rim and take a sip as you make your way over to the living space. Karina’s already sat down on one of the bean bags facing the TV. As you pass her, you lower one of the drinks to her and she takes the stem in between her fingers.

She hums tunefully to your offering.

You plop down on the leather couch next to her, careful enough as to not spill your wine. Throwing your head backwards onto the back of the couch, you sigh.

“What?” Karina asks with a slight smile in her eyes, taking a small sip of the wine.

You look at her through lowered eyelids, your head completely resting on the couch. “Nothing. I’m glad you came over tonight.”

She smiles. Shifting in her bean bag, she props one leg up as she leans forward to set down her glass on the wooden coffee table. “Come on,” reaching over, she puts her palm on your knee and gives you a gentle shake, “I know there’s something on your mind.”

Your lips purse together and pout to the side.

You met Karina a few months into your career as a professional dancer. It was a usual day for you, having recently returned to work from your injury. Every time you spotted Karina either on the barre or in centre, she looked so immersed into her craft. You remember being so impressed by her skill and control. Every movement of her arms looked so fluid, flowing from one position to another seamlessly. The power she held in her leaps were something else, as well. Her precision, even in the most consuming of movements, was something to be admired. Safe to say, it was to your surprise when she lined up behind you in the lunch queue and started making casual conversation. “Y/N, right?” She’d asked with a smile.

You found out that day that Karina went to the same conservatory as you. Though a grade below you, she was signed to the company as an apprentice the year you graduated, so she never fully finished her course. She knew of you when you two were both enrolled at the conservatory, but your paths never crossed into more than just a polite smile and a nod territory. Since day one, she had a sort of optimism to her that you’d grown to love and appreciate especially throughout the years. In such an unforgiving and rigid industry, Karina’s softness continues to be your lantern leading you through the dark.

“So?” Leaning back into her bean bag, Karina prompts once again, glass back up to her lips.

You mirror her actions, taking a sip from the rim and disassembling the flavours in between your cheeks before swallowing. “Colette,” you mouth to her as if you two were sharing secrets you shouldn’t be.

Karina’s inquisitive expression urged you to elaborate.

You sigh, bringing your shoulders up and dropping them. “I can’t get my turns right, for Odile’s coda. And she basically told me that if I don’t get my shit together, she’s gonna have to ‘intervene.’” You arch your brow when you recall Colette’s words to you.

“Meaning…?”

“I don’t know—probably replace me.”

There’s a range of comforting words that Karina can pick from to say to you, but a small portion of them would be true. Her hand goes up to her bottom lip, tugging at them as she thinks—a habit that she’d never grown out of.

“She won’t replace you.” Karina settles on the ‘not true’ section of the scope of her responses, her hand muffling her words. Both you and her know it. And it’s not due to the fact that Karina—or yourself, for that matter—thinks you’re not good enough for the role, it’s just how things are. It’s how Colette is: simple and straightforward. You can’t play a role? Someone else can—and they will. It’s never personal. Except it always feels like it is.

Still, you break out a weak smile at her attempt at reassuring you.

You lean your head back again, eyes now fixed on the ceiling and the base of the lamp that hung low over the coffee table.

“I think it’s my knee,” you admit for the first time out loud. You never wanted to talk about your accident because you were afraid that people might think you were making up excuses. This time, you felt like you were running out of options for explanations.

“Your knee?” At the mention, Karina leans forward in her seat.

“Yeah,” though unintentional, your words come out as a whisper. You clear your throat before continuing, “Every time after practice, my knee just starts hurting. Not insanely bad, but worse than before.”

“I didn’t know it was hurting before.” Karina has this expression on her face that’s almost like she’s interrogating you about this.

You can’t hide the sheepishness in your face and your tone, “It wasn’t serious.”

“Have you told Colette?”

You shake your head.

“Y/N. You have to tell her.”

“And for what? To give her another reason to start looking for my replacement?”

Karina takes a deep, shaky breath in, like she’s uncertain about something. “Surely, she’d understand. Maybe it’ll at least throw her off your back for some time.”

Your eyes remain fixed on the ceiling. Maybe it’s a good idea. Maybe you should tell Colette. That’s an issue for another day, though.

There’s many different ways to approach the character of Odile, but at the core of it, she’s a seductress. Everything that she does comes back to her motive to seduce—and more specifically, the Prince. It doesn’t come as a surprise to you or your choreographer when your expressions don’t match your intent.

To pretend to be in love is one thing. You’ve got years upon years of teenage pining experience to fall back on. But the art of seduction? No one has time for that.

‘Look more sultry. Look more alluring.’ Raf had said to you. And to your credit, you try but it’s already hard enough to have to spin and jump and twirl and leap, and now you have to look tantalising doing that? And all that’s considering the fact that you even want to try.

Your hours on the clock has finished for the night, but you find yourself starting to stay behind on most nights more often than not.

Kneeling down in front of the mirror, you rifle through your bag until your fingertips find a small, card box. You flip open the tab of the box and pull out one of the cigarettes, noting to yourself that you only have two others left. Then, you rummage through the pockets of your jacket for your lighter. With your necessities in your hands, you amble out of your room, turning the lights off as you leave. The hallways are fuller than usual, with plenty of soloists finishing at the same time as you. You weave your way through a group of dancers walking down the corridor and slide open one of the glass doors to the garden.

The hallway floors surrounding the garden is taller than the cobblestone ground of the courtyard, making it so that there’s a ledge as you step a foot inside. You sit yourself down on the step, one side of your body leaning against the opened glass door. You slot the cigarette between your lips as you bring up both your hands. One of them sparking on the lighter as the other goes to cover the flame by habit.

You go to pocket your lighter—again, habit—only to realise that you’re not wearing your jacket, so your second best option was to just put it on the ground next to where you’re sitting. Just as you’re about to pull the dampened filter tip away from your lips, a voice appears out of nowhere behind you.

“You should really quit that. It’s not good for you.”

The surprise of it nearly chokes you, coughing out quietly again and again as the smoke escapes your lips. You look behind you but you didn’t need to see to know who it was.

You manage out one final cough. And towering over you stood Doyoung. Eyes lowered, posture upright, as if he’s literally and figuratively looking down on you.

“Yeah? When did you start caring about what’s good for me?” You put your cigarette back in between your lips right as you finish your sentence, a clear edge of hostility in your voice. Doyoung watches your cigarette between your fingers as you take a deliberately long drag. You’re not even finished when he answers you back.

“When you became my partner.”

What a liar, you thought. That explains why he’s been ignoring you everywhere.

The conclusion that Kim Doyoung is nothing but a liar quickly turns into the fact that he’s a narcissist when you put together the ideas that he’s only talking to you now because you’re doing something—smoking—that he personally frowns upon. And he can’t be having his ‘partner’ tarnishing his reputation.

“Don’t you love when someone expresses how much they care about you with their show of apathy towards you?” You remark, almost with an impatience in your tone, but a playful sarcasm on your face instead. Smoke pours out of your lips with every word that you speak, and you blow the rest of it to the side. The heat spreading from your chest comes as a shock to you. Before this, you hadn’t known truly how much it annoyed you that your existence went by unnoticed by Doyoung, although you knew it had to be an act.

Doyoung squats down so that he’s near enough eye level with you, elbows resting on his knees. He tilts his head to the side, eyes scanning your face quickly, then the stick sat in your fingers, burning itself away slowly. “Don’t tell me you’re stressed because of me,” he mutters lowly.

You lean forward an inch or two. “Believe me when I say you’re the root of most of my problems nowadays.”

Doyoung holds back a subtle smirk on his lips, but not enough that you can’t completely pick up on it. He eyes your cigarette again, “Then, I guess you better stock up on those.”

He stands up and walks across the hallways into his practice room.

You turn your body, facing the inside of the garden. Glancing to the side, you see that the stick has burned down to nearly the filter. You quickly stub it out against the cobblestone before it gets to burning your fingers.

Days feel more like dreams to you. The repetition of what you do everyday is starting to blur the arbitrary line that separates every 24 hours from each other. And when you step foot into the shared studio between you and Doyoung, this very feeling engulfs you.

Colette is sat in her folding chair, fingers typing away in a fit on her screen, and Doyoung is rummaging through his bag in the corner.

The conversation that you had with Karina crawls into your mind. Is today the day? You’ve been contemplating telling Colette ever since that night, but you haven’t been confronted with a chance, yet. You take cautious step after another into the room. The soles of your shoes making a light smacking noise as it lifts the linoleum flooring along with it with every step you take. You try to subtly keep an eye on Colette as you walk past her—making an effort to gauge her mood before you decide if you should tell her or not. She looks happy enough today.

You slump your bag down in front of the mirror, mind preoccupied with weighing the pros and cons of the decision that’s kept you up several nights in a row now. You’re so out of it that you didn’t even notice you set your things down right next to Doyoung, when you had to option to do so literally anywhere else.

He doesn’t say anything, simply looking up at you with a slightly inquisitive look. Then, he quirks his eyebrows when you meet his gaze. Though normally, you probably would’ve made some sarcastic remark about this, you didn’t today—or couldn’t.

You leave your things where they are, and step towards where Colette is—her attention still solely fixed on her phone.

“Colette, I have something I need to tell you.”

Your hands are brought up to your stomach, fingers interlocking with each other and then unclasping, and then locking again. She looks lost into her own world, not even a slight hum or a nod of the head to acknowledge you standing right in front of her.

“Colette?”

“Hold that thought,” she finally replies, holding out one finger towards you, head still angled down.

“It’s—”

“I have something exciting planned for you guys today!”

She jumps up out of her seat, catching you off-guard as you stumble one step behind you. Your lips mouth into an ‘Um’ shape, reluctant to ask her about what’s so exciting about today. Lucky for you, Doyoung took the pleasure in asking.

“What is it?”

“Costumes!” Colette exclaims, excitement practically bursting out of her. “They’re coming now!”

And right on cue, a metal clothing rack rolls in through the practice doors. The designer and her assistant both pushing the costumes in behind it. Right away, you spot your two distinct tutus and a couple of blouses for Doyoung.

The rack comes to a halt right in front of you. Colette instantly goes to grab a hanger with the Odette costume hung up on it. It’s both traditional, and beautiful.

The bodice of the costume fashions a plunging neckline, of which is lined with white feathers. There are crystals decorating the bodice, scattered all over the corset but primarily concentrated at the neckline. The tutu itself is showy, for sure. Bigger than any other tutu you’ve ever worn. There are multiple layers to it, and you’re surprised that it can even fan out by itself due to how heavy it looks. The bottom layers are made out of tulle, the surface of it outlined by embroideries in golden thread resembling those of feathers. On top of that, actual feathers are finely sewn into the waistband of the tutu, blending the bodice in. The whole costume, instead of being white, has the slightest hint of blue to it, making it so that it’s more of a bright white. It looks like the pure embodiment of heaven.

“Go on!” Colette urges, “Try it on!” She pushes the hanger into your chest, making you grab ahold of your costume. Then, she grabs multiple blouses off the rack and hands them to Doyoung, urging him the same.

The two of you listen to Colette, pulling your costumes on in front of the mirror. Your bodice is absolutely tailor-made to fit you. Colette can’t stop shaking her head and mumbling out words of awe and wonderment when she looks at you.

You glance over at Doyoung all the way across the room from you. His blouse the manifestation of royalty. His costume, like yours, consists of a white blouse with a deep neckline, with a fancy looking jacket layered atop of it. The jacket has the same matching gold embroidery all along the hems, the sleeves and the closures. The buckle in the front and the puffed-up shoulder pads adds to the regality of it all.

You study him in his costume. Looking him up and down, and back up again. He doesn’t notice this, or at least you don’t think so; he’s too busy ogling at himself in the mirror. His chest is slightly exposed by the depth of the blouse’s neckline, making it so that you can see the contours of his collarbones and his pecs.

As much as you’d hate to admit it, he looks exactly like the part he’s playing—a Prince.

The designer walks around you, holding up the waistband of your tutu. She clips the excess elastic together and she looks over to her assistant, mumbling something you can’t hear too well. “Nearly perfect,” she points at the black tutu still on the hanger, “Now try this one.”

After the designer finished marking down any adjustments the either of you needed, practice continued on as usual. During the midst of it, you’d forgotten all about the beginning of the session when you first walked in, that is until Colette of all people reminds you.

“Oh—you wanted to talk to me, Y/N?”

Your arms are held up above your head, hands trying to pull back loose strands of hair that’d flown free from the hours you’ve just spent exerting yourself. “Uh, yeah,” you quietly respond, a bobby pin clenched between your teeth.

You eye Doyoung, only to see that he’s doing the same. As soon as you meet his gaze, he looks away, back down onto his bag that he’s holding open to stuff his water bottle into.

Colette glances down at the watch on her wrist, “Well, come on, then. I have places to be.”

You take the pin out from between your lips and slide it somewhere into the back of your hair. “Um,” you mumble as you walk on closer to Colette. The same nervousness that had burned within you earlier returns, but this time, it’s even more amplified with the presence of Doyoung, for whatever reason.

Suddenly, you don’t feel like telling Colette anymore, and it’s not even because of her.

You try to speak as lowly as possible, almost muttering under your breath. Colette, however, doesn’t pick up on this too well, prompting you to speak a bit clearer.

You breathe in. “My knee. I know I’ve been causing you some trouble lately, but just give me some time. I’ll sort it out.” You don’t know if that was quiet enough so that Doyoung doesn’t hear and you don’t want to look in the reflection to see his reaction in case he did. “I promise,” you whisper.

Colette hears you this time, though, and her expression instantly softens. Her lips open, mouthing an ‘O’ shape, and her brows furrow in understanding. Colette lays a gentle palm on your shoulder, lips pursing together as she takes a deep breath in. Then, she sharply exhales.

“If you really can’t do it, tell me.” She continues with a subtle shaking of the head, “We still have time now, but when it’s further down the road…”

You give her a firm, eager nod.

On the surface, you want to—need to—seem understanding. It was the reasonable thing to do. But deep down, all of what she’s saying just serves as a reminder of how replaceable everyone and anyone is. If you were to change how you viewed the situation, you can’t say that that’s a bad motivator, but it’s not the greatest one either.

When you turn back around, Doyoung isn’t at his spot anymore. You’re looking at an empty room with the contents of your bag spilling out onto the floor in one corner.

You swing your bag over your arm. Colette left moments after your conversation hurriedly to some meeting. You slump down onto the floor, knees tucked up to your chest and arms wrapping around them—not caring for your posture. The silence of the room rings in your ears, and that’s when you notice the sprinkling of raindrops against the window of the practice room.

The view outside is monochrome—all varying shades of grey. The sky was a light grey with pockets of white poking through, the buildings looked duller than usual under the gloom, and the streets were a dark grey, the rain further darkening the concrete. You watch one tiny bead of rain slowly run down the glass pane, rolling into other beads as they tumble down together.

“Is that true?”

Jesus Christ. Your shoulders jump up and your head turns to the door.

Someone sure has a habit of sneaking up on you unannounced.

Doyoung’s hair is unstyled, the front parts of it covering his eyebrows and nearly touching the rims of his glasses. A white long-sleeve hangs loosely on his frame, with the fabric on his shoulder bunching up under the strap of his bag.

This is the first time that he’s shown up to practice looking like he’s actually showing up to practice. Usually, he’d make more of an effort to present himself—not that he even looks that much different. You hadn’t noticed this subtle change in his appearance until now, as he’s sneaking up on you, once again.

He approaches you gradually, a steadiness in his pacing.

“What?” You mumble with your eyelids fluttering as if you’re blinking back your consciousness, not even truly registering what he’d said—you’d been too caught off-guard with his sudden appearance.

“What you told Colette—is it true?”

He’s now a step or two away from you. This scene feels familiar, too.

For a split second, you truly have no idea what he’s referencing, but then it comes to you.

“About me sorting myself out? Yeah, I hope it’s true,” You respond in an attempt to hopefully deflect the conversation. A sarcastic expression draws on your face with your brows raised. You look away from Doyoung and into the mirror where you can see the two of you in the practice room as if you were a third person observer.

You were expecting a snarky remark coming from him but you don’t get one. Instead, you can see him just watching you intently in the reflection, as if he’s at a lost for words.

“About your leg,” he bluntly states. No audible emotion, no wavering in tone, just three plain, simple words.

It’s as if your eyes are drawn to Doyoung like how opposite poles of a magnet are drawn to each other. When you look at his face, there’s a solemnity to his features that’s teetering on the verge of unease.

There’s only one train of thought running through your mind. It’s that version of him again from that first night in the practice rooms. You can’t quite decide whether you like this Doyoung more, or the normal Doyoung more, but in this moment, you know you much prefer the unaffected version of him.

You’ve never been one prone to sharing your vulnerabilities, especially not with someone like him. You’re not intending on starting now. “What are you asking me?”

“I think it’s pretty clear what I’m asking.” He says this in such a matter-of-fact manner, it’s hard to assess what his motive here is. Does he care? What is the goal here?

You’re trying to analyse the situation, but to Doyoung, he just wants to know. All the mental gymnastics you’re doing in your head—Doyoung does none of that.

“To you—probably.” Still, you continue to try to diffuse this weird tension between the two of you. You get up on your feet, clapping your hands together to get rid of any dust on them. You mutter out a quiet, “Well,” under your breath as you walk towards your things in the corner. Doyoung watches you in silence as you pack your things up; unlacing your pointe shoes, pulling them off and shoving them inside the bag.

You slide the strap onto your shoulders and get up to leave. As you walk by Doyoung, you feel the familiar touch of his fingers wrap around your wrist. The cold of his hands raise goosebumps all along your arm, and simultaneously freezes you in place.

“Let me fix this.”

His voice is soft, and gentle, unlike his grasp on your wrist.

Your eyes dart downwards towards his hand on you. You try to squirm free of his hold but he doesn’t let you. “Let me go.”

“Let me fix it,” he repeats.

“Fix what? There’s nothing you can do,” Your voice trails off.

Doyoung looks into your eyes, gaze unfaltering. The window to the side of him reflects in his irises, making his eyes appear glassier than normal. Without taking his eyes off you, he slowly starts to loosen his fingers around you.

“It’s my fault,” Doyoung says this in a way that’s as if he’s exhaling his words. The syllables following each other as he breathes out.

You look at him, and he doesn’t shy away and avoid your gaze. You’re looking at him and he’s there, fully. Just a few months back, you’re thinking of what you would give to have this very moment. To have him acknowledge his mistake, and to fully take responsibility like he’s doing now. Just a few weeks ago, you accepted that you would never get this—that Doyoung isn’t the type of person to bring you this kind of closure. And yet, here you are, with him standing right in front of you in a confrontation that you thought was impossible.

It’s not an apology, like that first night. It’s recognition. And now that you have both from him, you can’t help but wonder: why doesn’t it feel as relieving as you thought it would be?

“It was an accident,” you correct him. You speak those words aloud and they echo inside of your head. Those same words that you had to tell yourself over and over, the same thing that you had to convince yourself of through the years, now you’re here using them again.

“An accident that I caused.”

There’s an eerie feeling inside of you. This conversation isn’t productive, and it’d do more harm than good if you continue letting Doyoung play the blame game.

“It’s not your fault. And I’m fine now, aren’t I?” You lift your foot and stick your leg out slightly, turning it from side to side.

Doyoung watches for a brief moment before he begins again, “Just… Let me make it up to you.”

“And how are you planning on doing that?”

His eyes are back on yours and you notice the slight dip of his Adam’s apple as he swallows subtly. He sucks his lips in, lightly rehydrating them.

“Whatever you need me to do to make this right.”

Your stomach emits a faint grumble, but clear enough in the otherwise silent practice room that you’re sure both you and Doyoung heard it. You try to hold back a chuckle.

“Pay me back with dinner. That’s what you can do.”

Doyoung and you first agreed on dinner at some restaurant close to the both of you. However, those plans were quickly replaced not long after they were made. Simply due to the reason that Doyoung usually cooks his own meals, and he didn’t want to smear his perfect record.

Originally, he was supposed to treat you to dinner the night he asked, but something came up, so it got moved to tonight. It’s been a week since you agreed to let him cook dinner for you and it hasn’t really crossed your mind until now.

You’re standing right in front of your mirror, contemplating what to wear. Maybe you could’ve—or should’ve—given more thought to this. And it’s right now that you’re just beginning to question what tonight is.

It's just a casual dinner between friends, you tell yourself. But, you’re not friends. At least you didn’t think you were to him. Or maybe it’s just what you said it was—something he can do to ‘make up’ for his mistake.

All of this is running through your head as you’re holding up outfit after outfit up to your reflection. Your bed is littered with shirts, jeans, skirts, dresses; anything that you’ve ever owned. You’re not sure what kind of message you want to send with what you’re wearing, and you didn’t know if it really mattered, anyway.

Eventually, you narrow down your options to two dresses. One of them being a fitting black dress; sleeveless. The other is also black, slightly more appropriate for a club setting with the way the neckline is cut. You settle on the more modest of the options.

Pulling it on over your head, you can feel a slight tinge of embarrassment colouring your cheeks. You look into the mirror, suddenly becoming increasingly aware of what you look like. Self-awareness isn’t something you’d lacked, especially as a dancer, but tonight… it was different. You felt aware of yourself in a different way for better or worse.

You attempt to shake this feeling off, reminding yourself that tonight is just another regular night—nothing special to it. It’s just dinner.

After making yourself feel a little less on edge, you grab a nearby matching purse and throw on a jacket, then, you head out. You make your way to Doyoung’s apartment not too far from yours. It’s about 15 minutes away by walking, even less if you’re taking the subway. Considering how small the city really is, it’s not a surprise that he lives so close to you.

You take a second glance at your phone to make sure you got the right address before knocking on the apartment door. Your fist raps firmly against the wooden surface. For the first time tonight, your head is blank. Don’t get it twisted, the nervousness is still in you like it’s seeped into your bones, but any thoughts—doubtful or not—are nowhere to be found; only the echo of your knocking ricocheting off the walls of your mind.

The wait in between you making yourself known and Doyoung opening the door to his apartment is painful. Excruciating anticipation waltzing in every muscle of yours. You consider turning back around, walking away before Doyoung sees you, but before you even have a chance to move, the door swings open.

And there he stood. Head a little bit below the door frame, eyes widened, and an open stance. His black button-up is undone at the collar, exposing just enough of his collarbones that you know he left them undone for that very purpose. One side of his shirt is loosely tucked into his jeans, which had a leather belt wrapped around it. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you can see steam rising from behind him.

“Hi.”

You greet him first, waiting for any indication to be let in. Instead, Doyoung stands in the way of the doorway, eyes fixed on you.

“Um—You’re not burning anything, are you?” You ask lightheartedly, a finger pointing over his shoulder to where the steam is.

It’s like Doyoung snaps awake with a shake of his head. “Oh!” He looks over his shoulder at the pot on the stove. “No,” he reassures you as he turns back to you. Simultaneously, his body moves out of the way to let you into his place, “Sorry—Come in.”

You step through the doorway into his apartment. It’s similar to yours; an open-plan kitchen with two other rooms and a balcony. Except, his balcony can actually be considered one. Through the glass doors leading outside, you see a small square table with a white tablecloth over it, two chairs set up on either side. There’s two empty wine glasses placed on top.

“You have a nice place,” the hesitation that you can hear in your own voice made you want to crawl up and fall through the floor. Small talk has never been your forte.

Doyoung shuts his door quietly and he turns back around to face you. “Thanks,” he takes a shallow breath in. He drops his arms from behind his back to his sides, straightening his posture subtly. “You look nice.”

And there it was again. His change in demeanour. You’re so focused on the sudden flash of indifference on his face that you don’t even pay attention to his words. It’s not like tonight wasn’t already confusing for you, he had to go and add to that confusion himself.

You mumble out a quiet, “Thanks,” not knowing what to think of his compliment. You’re grateful for the tiny hum of classical music in the background as you and Doyoung both stand somewhat awkwardly away from each other. You divert your eyes away from him and spot where the music is playing from—the vinyl record player tucked away in the corner of the open room.

It doesn’t surprise you that Doyoung is playing classical music as he cooks—he seems the type.

“If you want, you can sit down,” he speaks up. Doyoung extends a palm towards the balcony, “Dinner’s nearly ready. I’ll bring it out.”

You pull your lips into a tiny smile as you walk past him towards the glass doors. Sliding them open, you feel a gentle evening breeze brush against your skin.

Not only is his balcony better than yours, his view is also better. The platform looks over the main street, and you can’t help but wonder how the hell did he manage to rent a place like this. Directly across the wide open road are other apartment complexes, but on the ground, there are countless cafés, bars, restaurants, flower shops—everything. The warm glow from the lights within these establishments light up the street in a mellow manner.

You pull out one of the patio chairs and sit yourself down, a gentle wind blowing past again and getting caught in your hair. The faintest whisper of the symphony from inside travels all the way to you. You take in a lungful of fresh air—as fresh as city air can be—and lean forward on your palms placed on the edge of the seat.

It’s not long before Doyoung comes out with two plates in his hands. He sets one down in front of you first, then the other in his place.

“Do you want a drink?” He offers softly.

“Yeah, sure.” You get the feeling that you might’ve answered him a little too eagerly.

He disappears inside and shortly comes back out with a tall tinted bottle in his hand. Doyoung takes a seat across from you, his attention fixated on the things set out in front of him. He takes your glass into his hands, pouring a red wine into it carefully. Then, he does the same with his own. Once he’s done, he sets the bottle down onto a little trolley to the side of the table which you hadn’t noticed before.

He takes his glass, tipping its rim towards you. You take that as a signal and mirror him.

“Cheers.” You clink your glasses together, a clear ring sounding out as a result. Doyoung notices that when you go to drink your wine, you are most certainly not pacing yourself the way you should. One gulp, and the cup is a quarter-full, having only been half-empty when he poured it out.

One drink then turned into two, which quickly turned into another. The evening had gone better than you’d expected, better than you’d hoped. You thought that it might as well be you and him eating in detention for how conversation-less it usually is between the two of you, but tonight proved you wrong. Frankly, you knew it had to be due to the alcohol.

The pair of you explored many different topics: the weather; if aliens are real; whether or not you believe in astrology; your biggest dreams; cereal or milk first; et cetera, et cetera. But the topic of the reason for this whole night never came up, or the two of you were just extremely skilled in avoiding talking about it.

“After I graduated from the conservatory in Seoul, I wasn’t set on what I wanted to do,” Doyoung’s words had a slight slur to them, barely noticeable if you’re not paying attention. He picks up his glass from the table, this being his third of the night. “I was 18 at the time. I took a year off to travel and by the time I turned 19, I found myself here in Paris,” he continues, an easy flow in his voice. He takes a sip of the wine, “And I fell in love with it.”

You’re leaning back into your chair, swirling around the glass in your hand. Before you can even think of what to say back to him, Doyoung speaks again.

“What about you? How did you end up here?”

He downs the entirety of the contents in his glass, face turned away from you. You lean forward onto the table as Doyoung sets the goblet down lightly. Tilting your head away from him, you watch as the red liquid swirls and ripple over in the bowl with the movement of your hand, creating a vortex.

You return your gaze back onto Doyoung. His cheeks are lightly blushed; the tip of his nose, too. You exhale sharply.

“I’ve always been here. Guess I knew what I wanted to be since I was little and… I stuck with it.”

“That’s impressive,” Doyoung comments. You can tell he’s half there and half not.

“I suppose,” you mutter under your breath. You’re confident that Doyoung couldn’t hear you.

There’s a beat of silence, with the music in the background finishing right at this moment. Then, it starts up again. You hadn’t been paying particular attention to Doyoung’s choice in music for the earlier part of the night, but this particular piece catches your attention. And it looks like it catches his, too.

The familiar introduction passage travels all the way to the balcony fadedly, despite it’s lively nature. You recognise it as the accompaniment to the Black Swan pas de deux that you have practiced with Doyoung numerous times now.

The two of you share a glance before Doyoung gives in.

“Shall we?”

You hesitate at first. This is silly, you thought. Doyoung extends a hand towards you.

“I don’t have my shoes,” you counter.

“So, what? It’s not serious,” he urges you playfully, hand now closer to you.

Then, you give in. You place your palm into his as he leads you back inside of his apartment. There’s enough space inside for you to move around comfortably, but not to perform a whole duet. The two of you half-heartedly dance along to the music, mainly relying on muscle memory for the piece. For the second time tonight, your mind is blank. You’re only tuning into the music and letting your body move the way it wants, no thoughts dictating your actions at all.

A part of the choreography calls for Doyoung to place his hands on your arms from behind you, and wrap them around yourself, which is then followed by Odile rejecting this show of affection. Doyoung’s touch on your forearms is delicate, like a feather brushing past you. Yet, there seems to be a moment in which he holds on and lingers in his position for a little longer than expected. In that same very moment, you didn’t want to move on with the choreography, sending him away with a firm denial of his fondness. The Prince’s fondness.

The first parts of the music comes close to finishing. The last vibrato of the violin sounds out as you spin into Doyoung’s arms, flesh out an arabesque, shift into fifth position, and lean your torso forward. Doyoung slides onto one of his knees, hands catching your waist as you tilt into him with one leg up in the air and arms behind you.

Your wrists flick downwards right along with the last notes of the melody.

Your faces are close to one another. You feel that if you were to lean forward even just an inch more, the tips of your noses would touch.

The music comes to a halt. That’s when the sound of your breathing alongside Doyoung’s becomes noticeable. You can feel your chest burn with every rise and fall. Doyoung looks deeply into your eyes in a way that he’s never done before in all the times you’ve finished this piece with him. It’s like he’s watching himself in the reflection of your irises.

“And this… is where you’re irrevocably in love with me,” you whisper, not being able to hold back a tug at your lips as you did so.

Doyoung chuckles. His hands are still gripping onto the sides of your waist firmly.

Your arms begin to feel heavier by the second, so you set them down, putting both your hands onto Doyoung’s shoulders. Your leg goes down as well, meeting the other on tip-toes against the floor.

Doyoung doesn’t look away for one moment, and neither do you. You’re still catching your breath when you feel a pull on your hips.

You stop breathing.

Doyoung’s face is now even closer to yours. You can see every minute detail of his features; the way his eyelids folded, the individual hairs of his brows, and his defined cupid’s bow. That was something that you never noticed about him, and now you can’t pull your eyes away from it.

He watches you observe him, and he does the same.

Without even knowing, you inch your face closer and closer to Doyoung’s.

Until finally, your lips meet his.

END OF ACT II

#📂 - nct #nct #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct 127 #doyoung imagines #doyoung nct #nct doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung #nct x reader #doyoung fanfic #doyoung x reader #nct 127 fanfic #doyoung scenarios #nct 127 imagines #doyoung fluff #nct 127 fluff #kim doyoung fluff

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thefrontofmymind · 7 months

Text

matty healy x reader ig blurb

FC: Rachel Sennott

yninstagram 🙄🙄

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ynfan1 slayyyy

ynfan2 is this yn saying she’s gay??? (not to speculate on people’s sexuality!!)

>yninstagram only like 50% of the time lol

yninstagram i’m a pretty pretty princess, suck on that. 💕

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ynfan1 she is literally so gorgeous

1975fan1 lmao why did matty like this post????

>1975ynfan1 yn is friends with charli so they probably met at some point

ynfan2 OMG I HAVE THAT TOP

>yninstagram twinsssss

~~~

yninstagram via stories:

~~~

charli_xcx reshared story:

Caption: sexy bitchessss

~~~

yninstagram vegas babyyyyy

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trumanblack stop eating snacks in my bed

>yninstagram i will when you eat this snack in bed

>ynfan1 YN OMG

ynfan2 she’s literally so hot

ynfan3 yall ever been jealous of a rose???

yninstagram doing my best matty healy mirror selfie pose

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ynfan1 im SO obsessed with those pants

trumanblack you failed.

>yninstagram well you’ll have to give me some more coaching

1975ynfan1 a yn/1975 was not on my bingo card for 2023 but im not mad about it

yninstagram been cooking almost naked for years now when will i get wifed up??

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ynfan1 I AM BEGGING LET IT BE ME

charli_xcx sexxiiii

trumanblack be patient

>1975fan1 ok so should we just assume that yn and matty are together then??

>1975fan2 seems like it!

yninstagram rockstar girlfriend but make it slutty ballerina

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ynfan1 im so obsessed with this look

rass1975 ew gross heinekin

>yninstagram fuck u 2 then

ynfan2 NEED this dress

1975fan1 IS THIS A CONFIRMATION????

>1975fan2 I THINK SO????

yninstagram save a horse (a.k.a. lewk for the Hollywood Bowl)

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ynfan1 truly the fashion icon of our generation

ynfan2 omg its rockstar girlfriend doing rockstar girlfriend things

1975fan1 she is truly so iconic i love her so much

charli_xcx I hope Matthew can fight

#matty healy x reader #matty healy blurb #matty healy imagine

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tuliprry · 2 years

Text

sunbeam 3

prompt: ballerina!yn x barista!harry, y/n is a ballerina and harry works at the café in the same building, both have a little crush on each other

warnings: mostly fluff, mentions of sex, mentions of anxiety, mentions of eating disorder

word count: 2k

part 1 part 2 part 4 part 5 extras

it's currently february, y/n has been planning a surprise party for harry, she had to message harry's mum which was terrifying for her as they haven't even been introduced, it wasn't the end of the world and anne was so excited that even though they were only dating for a few months that y/n was so ready to do these little things for her son. harry thinks they're just going on a date tonight and then come back to his house for a really sweet night of i love yous and sloppy sex. y/n was able to arrange a 15 minute window for anne to come over and start getting his apartment ready for the party. y/n had gotten harry a suit for his birthday and insisted that he would change at her house, harry was confused but he didn't think anything much of it.

y/n loved seeing harry in beiges and browns, it was something she genuinely loved, not that he looks bad in anything but there's just something that gets her all mushy inside when he wears beige, even pink, so clearly, she got him beige suit pants that go with a white shirt and a tan vest with pear drawings, y/n had an eye for fashion and she always took a mental note of things harry has mentioned, including this vest.

"how do i look?" harry asks, taking the well loved hair clip from his hair, "like a very sexy 28 year old" y/n giggled and stood up to properly check him out, "yeah you look so good my mouth is watering", he kissed her in between laughs, y/n looked good too, in a off white summer dress with puffy short sleeves and a little bow on her chest, white tights with really cute embroidered drawings and black mary janes. harry always thought she looked drop dead gorgeous, even when she was sweaty and exhausted from ballet class and would kiss him and sit on a stool awaiting her precious latte, he just thought she looked like what god is supposed to look like. "you know... if we didn't have our dinner... i'd definitely take this off right now" harry whispers in her ear sending shivers down her spine, he knew exactly what he did to her, in that department things have been... different, they've been trying a few things out and the more he learns about y/n in bed the easier it is for him to tease her and make her cheeks get a rosy coloured flush. "harry... cmon we still have to go to your house" y/n is trying hard to not get her knees weak or worse accidentally say theres a surprise party for him. "right fuck i still can't believe i left my phone at home, i'm sorry bunny" y/n knew exactly she was the one making sure his phone was at home so they had to go back but she just kissed his lips, grabbed her purse and went out the door.

on the uber ride, y/n texted anne saying they were on their way so they could hide and get remotely ready for the surprise, the jitters through y/n's body were absolutely killing her poor stomach, making her have a really big pain on that area, "bunny? do you wanna stay home? u look like you're sick" harry says as he puts his right over her tummy, "no no it's your birthday!!"

once harry opened the door and turned the lights on, his closest friends and family jumped and yelled surprise, harry stood tall with a shocked yet happy expression on his face, putting his hands on his face in disbelief, "oh my god you guys", he ran to his mum and sister hugging them tightly, "you planned all this?" he asks still in the hug, "no, darling, y/n planned all of this, we just helped getting it to come true" anne said going back to hug her son on his special day.

the party wasn't the kind of birthday party 21 year old y/n goes from her university friends, this is sweet, there's an 80s playlist playing, wine and cheeses and vegan spreads, harry was talking to his friends, they all looked about harry's age and really nicely put, she's listening to their conversation, sort of, they're going over writing and magazines and issues going on at the mother company of few of the magazines harry writes for outside of his side job as a barista. truth be told y/n understood nothing and felt like a little girl just sulking while waiting for harry to give her attention.

it's now 3am, y/n has just finished putting the leftovers inside the fridge, harry, who was supposed to still be loading the dishwasher, was attentively following her every move, grunts and small sighs, "ready to tell me whats inside that pretty mind?" harry asks, following her into the living room, "there's nothing to tell", y/n isn't as emotionally grown as harry, not that's she's childish when it comes to emotions, she just immediately has bad thoughts and uses anger as a coping mechanism, harry has a gut feeling y/n's ex wasn't actually the best person on earth and so many of her questions and worries and fears come from never knowing what true love is supposed to be like. "bunny... you wouldn't be pouty without reasoning" harry hugged her from behind, "but if you don't want to talk i get it, we can just stay like this", y/n closed her eyes and let herself rest in his arms for a minute, "i just.. all of your friends they're so... grown.. and i'm not and what if you want more? what if you need more? it's just... scary, h." harry tightened the hug, "i'm ruining your birthday i'm so sorry", he mouthed a little shush and turned her around to look at her face, "y/n.. i want you, please never doubt for any minute that you aren't the person i want and love the most, yeah they’re my age but look at you, 2 years of uni and you scored an internship at a studio, you do ballet, you work with all kinds of people.. you’re grown too, a little too grown for a 21 year old, i promise you i was a fuck up at your age” his lips met her forehead, the most underrated of kisses, "listen to me let's take a shower okay? get these clothes off and sleep, mm? can we do that?" of course they could.

it's been a week since y/n's moment of honesty and so many more moments of honesty were shared between them, especially at the end of the day before falling asleep. it snowed today, london has been messy and people have been rude and acting like they've never seen snow in their lives, y/n walks into the tall building where her ballet classes and rushes to see harry, he's restocking the food in display when he hears his girlfriends teary voice, he immediately puts the tray of deserts down and gets out behind the counter to kiss her, "you're freezing, let me get u coffee", he goes back and makes her a warm drink, he knew y/n had been on her nerves lately but today just seemed like the last straw by the sad look on her face. "people are so stupid, this man almost made me fall while leaving the tube by pushing me really hard, my foot hurts a little and i have class now and i really need to wash my hair and i have internship deadlines to meet at the photography studio and-" harry cut her off placing a croissant in front of her, "please eat and let me talk", she nodded, "first off next time someone pushes u like that just step on their feet, second are you okay to dance? does it hurt?... and y/n you have been working a lot lately i'm sure you can meet your deadlines you're just nervous and thats okay", he put a piece of her curtain bangs behind her ear and rested his forehead on hers, "everything is okay bunny, eat your croissant and drink your latte, yeah?"

harry's shift ended while y/n was still in class, usually his shift ends after and y/n just waits for him so they can go to either one of their places together, he decided to go upstairs and watch a bit of her class, he was really curious about the whole atmosphere and dynamic of y/n in her ballet class, y/n has told him a million times if he ever wants to watch it for a little that he's always welcome, he took his opportunity and walked in, y/n's teacher saw him in the corner of her eye and came up to him. "hello? how can i help?" she asked, "i'm harry, y/n's boyfriend i work downstairs", he was still standing at the ballet studio door, "oh! i'm maya, y/n's teacher", she smiles and points at the floor, "you can sit there we're just finishing up!". y/n already doing stretches, his heart shrunk a little by not seeing her dance, something he absolutely loves to watch y/n do, y/n spots him through the mirror in front of her and makes a sign to go meet her, he does and sits next to her, also stretching.

"what are you doing here?"

"well i finished my shift earlier and i wanted to see you"

"we're just finishing"

"you look so good"

"h..."

"no no! i mean it you look out of a music box, you're so beautiful”

“don’t make me blush right now”

harry was carrying y/n’s stuff inside his house, placing them on top of his dining table, y/n had been the entire tube ride explaining how her class is doing a small production of the nutcracker to present at a local theatre, mostly for schools to go to, she didn’t have a big hope to be a lead has she knows she’s been on this class for 6 months and it’s not her time to shine yet, but she is actually so excited and ready to start rehearsing. “when are you guys supposed to present it?”, harry asks getting his shoes off, “maya said late may, she’s hosting auditions next week with one of her colleagues in another school, they’re judging us by our regular routines so i’m a little less nervous” y/n explains, they were quickly changing clothes to go and do touristy things in london, they have been doing this every time his shift and her class are in the morning, usually on tuesdays, y/n always takes the chance to photograph harry, her favourite model. “borough market date?” she asks, packing some linen food bags onto her bag, “oh yeah my fridge actually looks very sad, i’ve gotten used to your cooking” he kisses her forehead, “want to cook dinner tonight? i’ll help” he continues, doing his puss in boots eyes to her, “stop it, i can’t say no if you look at me like that….maybe a bowl? with veggies and rice, we could get broccoli, mushrooms, some vegan chicken and vegan pesto?” his stomach growls just thinking about it, “i don’t know how you do it, you just always know what i’m craving.” harry sees improvement on y/n’s eating, she eats more and hasn’t fainted in a long while, he doesn’t totally get it as he hasn’t been there but he still reads about it a lot.

borough market was packed as usual, it’s a tourist spot but y/n and harry love going there and get their fruit and veggies, once they even got garlic tofu and started buying it way too often for their own good, one of harry’s favourite meals y/n has ever made, said tofu, brown rice, hummus and a side salad of rainbow veggies, his mum mentioned his tummy was definitely bigger, comfy, something he didn’t mind if it meant eating this good every night.

“garlic tofu?”

“that’s not a question harry, it’s always a yes”

“is it also always a yes for a kiss?”

“absolutely”

y/n's birthday post for harry

y/n's little london post

y/n's story about harry losing her at a uni party

part 4?

taglist: @his-only-angel-1989 @oscarissacsslut @odilevonbrekker @youd0ntkn0wm3 @tenaciousperfectionunknown

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cupid-styles · 2 months

Note

A little idea of a scene for hockeyxballerina: even before they start having a thing they end up in a heated kiss with him pressing her against a wall, car, bookshelf of whatever whi his hamd on her throat and her brain his so foggy she lets him spit on her mouth but the she comes to hers senses and runs away without a word, not even an insult because she is so shocked with what she did

🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

word count: 1.6k

content warnings: smut (hehe finally!!!) (spitting, public play, dirty talk, degradation)

hockey!h x ballerina!yn masterlist

main masterlist

. . .

There must be something clinically wrong with Y/N tonight.

Well, maybe not just tonight. Maybe... maybe, that "something wrong" has been creeping up her body and spreading from her stomach out to her chest and center over the duration of a past few weeks. Maybe she expected it go away after a day or two, because why wouldn't it?

Harry Styles is his worst nightmare. Her moral enemy. Her fiercest competitor.

So why the fuck does she think he looks good enough to swallow whole tonight?

He walked in with a crowd of his hockey buddies an hour or so after Y/N, Lea, Rena, and Mai had arrived. Per the pre-game hosted at Mai and Rena's place, she was already feeling a little buzzed when she got here. She was planning on taking it easy tonight — she was still diligently practicing for the spring showcase every day — but the second her eyes flitted over to the stupid backwards hat he wore and the flex of his jaw from the gum he chewed, she knew she needed more to get through the night.

And she's pleasantly tipsy when she makes a move to head to the bathroom. She hears her friends scold her for "breaking the seal," but she rolls her eyes and playfully flips them off in response. Her sneakers stick to the vodka-coated floors of the college bar as she pushes her way through the crowd, trying to make her way to the ladies' room without any tequila spillage on her top.

Harry Styles is an idiot, she thinks to herself as she walks, There's no way I could have a crush on him. What, just because he drove me home a few times and helped me when I hurt my ankle? That's stupid, he's stupid, and—

"Hey, you."

Her eyes dart up at the familiar deep voice and she wishes the ground would open up and take her right then and there. Did she somehow conjure Harry up with her thoughts? She's a little drunk, but there's no way she's that powerful.

Unless she is.

"I have to pee." she replies, pointing to the bathrooms behind his tall stature.

"Okay. Go pee, then."

She flashes a tight smile his way as she brushes past him. She thinks from the corner of her eye she sees him stand against the wall of the small hallway, crossing her arms over his chest. The last time they were in this area together, it was right after she slept with Malcolm (the stupid, prissy idiot from the opposing team who wouldn't even smack her ass). At this point, it's been months since Harry lowly waxed poetic in her ear about how he could make all her degrading dreams come true.

The memory makes her shudder as she washes her hands.

Y/N's suspicious are proved right when she exits the bathroom to see Harry still standing there. She's prepared to ignore him and walk straight past him until he reaches out to grasp her wrist, gently pulling her back. She yelps, a tipsy, unattractive sound, and it makes Harry's eyes crease with laughter.

"You good?" he asks. Y/N's vision darts down to the gum he's chewing between his teeth and she swallows.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry shrugs. "Just making sure you're not too drunk."

"I have a dress rehearsal this weekend," she replies with a shake of her head. "I just came out to see the girls."

"And me." He points out cheekily, making her roll her eyes.

"I didn't even know you'd be here tonight, Harry."

"It's one of three bars in town and all the athletes come here."

He's right about that, and she knows he could double down by pointing out the obvious, too — that this is the only bar their friend groups ever frequent, and the hockey team rarely misses a Friday night out.

Luckily, he spares her the embarrassment.

"We have a game tomorrow night," he continues, "Will you come?"

"Why would I do that?"

"School spirit. Duh."

Y/N scoffs at that and shakes her head. She focuses her eyesight on anything but the cocky, beautiful, stupid man in front of her.

"I'm practicing all day. I'll be in an ice bath before your game even starts."

"Hot," he smirks. Y/N's stomach flutters.

"Stop being a douche. I thought we were past this."

"We are!" Harry exclaims, lifting his hands up in surrender. She only now realizes that he'd had his fingers looped around her wrist that entire time. "I'm just saying, you're hot."

"You must be more fucked up than I thought," Y/N guffaws.

"If I was fucked up, I'd be trying to sleep with you right now."

The words fly from her lips before she can even stop them: "And that's not what you're doing?"

She doesn't know if she says it because she wants to call him out on his bluff or she's feeling the confidence — and lust — from her the drinks she consumed tonight. But she doesn't take it back. And she certainly doesn't walk away as she watches Harry's head cock slightly to the side. His expression almost seems as if he's... impressed, in some way. The smirk on his lips makes her ball her fists at her side.

"You would know if I was trying to fuck you, Y/N."

She swallows. It's warm — she's suddenly so warm right now as she realizes their chests are nearly pressed against one another. The height difference between them makes it so her breasts are below his pecs, but she still feels the expanse of muscles through the layers of their clothing.

"I doubt that," she mutters, and he clenches his jaw. It's almost hypnotizing to watch. "I really think—"

"I think you should shut up now."

In a moment, his hand is spread over her hip and they've swapped places; her back now pressed firmly up against the wall. His tall form all but blocks any onlookers from seeing who he has cornered, but he couldn't forget it even if he wanted to. Not when he's been dreaming of this for weeks.

And really, he wouldn't do it if he didn't have some sort of prior knowledge about her hookup with Malcolm — the fact that she's somehow just depraved as him.

So he wedges his gum to the back of his molars, utters out the words, "open your mouth", and gathers up the spit behind his lips. His length immediately thickens in his pants when she sticks her tongue out. And then he spits in her mouth.

She whimpers instantly at the feeling but it's drowned out by his own groan. It's filthy and demeaning, but he can see it in her eyes how much she loves it.

"Looks so good," he mumbles, thumbing at a bit at the side of her mouth before pushing it in. "Swallow."

She does.

"You're well-behaved for a brat," he notes as he gives her hip a squeeze. She hums, eyes flickering when his hand lifts her shirt up slightly, fingertips trailing over the smooth skin of her stomach. "Did you want a prize, puppy?"

With hazy eyes, she nods.

He smirks, almost immediately stuffing his hand down her jeans. She gasps when he finds the sodden fabric of her underwear, eliciting a low chuckle from his chest.

"All this just for some spit? Maybe you're nastier than I thought."

She wishes she could reply back with something snarky but she can’t, not when he begins to roll her clit beneath his fingertips. Her eyes flutter shut as he applies a bit more pressure, pausing momentarily to collect some of the wetness accumulating at her whimpering hole.

“Finally let me play with this pretty pussy, hm?” he says mockingly, “Maybe one day you’ll let me stretch it out, too. Might take awhile for it to fit, though— I know you’ve never been with someone as big as me.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles breathily. He laughs and squeezes her clit between two of his fingers. She gasps, barely offering enough recovery time before he’s back to rubbing circles.

“What, you really think you could take my cock, sweetheart? You can barely take one of my fingers. Gonna have to train you for months, but I think you’d like that.”

“Harry—“

“I know,” he coos condescendingly as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “You’re such a stubborn brat you’d just want me to stuff you full on the first try. Feel me in your fuckin’ stomach.”

“‘m gonna cum,” she mewls, reaching out to dig her fingernails into his chest. He hisses from the small bite of pain. “Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna cum—“

Harry wouldn’t stop touching her even if he wanted to. Especially not as he watches her fall apart beneath his grasp, her knees almost buckling from the intensity of her orgasm. He feels her pussy clenching rapidly and he swallows harshly, the sight nearly being enough to make him come in his pants.

She’s quiet and shaky as her orgasm tapers off and Harry gently pulls his hand from her pants. He helps adjust her jeans back up and over her hips, her eyes flickering up to his face.

“Oh my god,” she mutters, her eyes widening as if she’s just realized what she’s done. “Oh my god, what the fuck?”

“What?” Harry asks through furrowed brows. He’s expecting some sort of nervous response about accidentally abandoning her friends, but instead she shakes her head and lightly pushes him away.

“I can’t. This was— this was bad, so fucking stupid.” She mumbles to herself, keeping her arms stretched out in front of her so he can’t get closer. “Fuck, Harry.”

He’s left confused and nervous as she watches her leave the bar.

#bestie asks #writing #hockey h

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alemonyoyo · 3 months

Text

No Country for Young Humans - Chapter 7:

Hello! As you might have noticed, this chapter took a while to come out! That will probably be a trend from now on. Currently I am on holiday and we've had a pretty severe injury within my fam so I have to spend more time dealing with that over writing.

Furthermore, I absolutely HATE my writing right now. It is dogshit. I feel very bad for serving you lovelies dogshit.

I'm feeling pretty upset with this chapter, but I felt even worse for taking so long. I think I just need some time to reset a little, but just know I'm always working away at this :)

Missed the previous chapters? Check out the Masterlist!

Words: 3465

Tags: GN Reader, No use of YN, Flirting, Teasing.

Summary: How long will this pursuit continue? And will you have the same fate as the one who perished before you?

Chapter 7 - The Ballerina: BGM: Undertale OST: Quiet Water

The clanging of metal on metal rang throughout the caverns of Waterfall. The dim blue light of the gemstoned walls around you illuminated a shadowed figure on your tail. You felt your heart beat out of your chest, already tired from the running. The ground beneath you was once a dense grass but slowly slouched into a squelchy, muddy terrain. North Star was ahead of you, coping far better on the marshy ground with his boots than you were; slipping and tripping over the difficult turf. You’d be embarrassed if it were not for the fact that his back was turned to you, darting every which way as you tried to escape the monster right behind.

Up ahead you quickly came into a clearing, surrounding each side of the turf was a wide, deep river, one that is far too deep for you to traverse yourself. The space wasn’t much different to those you had passed on your escape thus far, though the ground was littered with these large seeds; pink bulbs cradled in a silky, fine leaf. They somewhat resembled a shrivelled up Water Lily. North Star hurriedly picked up three of the strange looking seeds, rushing to the edge of one of the river,

“Get one more for me, darlin’.” He called out over to you, and you obeyed, grabbing at one of the bulbs and running over to him. He lightly placed each of them on the water, and you watched as they glided out across the timid surface; One, two, three. When the fourth one slotted into place they bloomed in an instant, revealing a stunning and vibrant fuschia interior.

You nearly panicked as North Star tread on one of the flowers, jumping out to catch him by the arm to stop him from his fall, yet he remained sturdy.

“No need to panic, deputy.” He responded as he ran across the flora path. You followed behind reluctantly, feeling the solid floor beneath your feet as your confidence settled in. The flowers were better ground than the rest of Waterfall had been so far so you welcomed the quick escape with glee.

Once you had reached the end of the path, the flowers quickly wilted, frothing at the lips of their petals before falling to the bottom of the river. You watched nervously at their death, before feeling an urgent tug at your arm.

“C’mon, we gotta keep goin’!” Star pulled you away, as you turned down a sharp corner that nearly doubled back in the direction you came. The path felt rather hidden.

Shooting down the thin path, Star turned into a minuscule clearing that was right on the edge of another river. In the centre of the small space was a bench with a lone Echoflower drooping beside it. This place seemed pretty out of the way, there was no chance that the Royal Guard could find you here!

You felt yourself sigh, slumping your shoulders and letting the tension wash away like the stream beside you. Flopping down on the bench, sinking your aching back into its weathered wood, you felt Star shuffle in beside you.

“I don’t think that whoever’s chasin’ us will be able to find us here.” He mumbled out under his breath. You could faintly hear the Echoflower right beside the bench mimic his words, though they were not nearly as precious as the real thing.

You leant your head onto his shoulder, you could get away with a move like this now. Write it off as you being too tired to keep your head up straight, rather than just wanting to feel him close to you. He reciprocates the gesture, leaning his head on top of yours.

The clanging sound of your pursuers footsteps still rang out, but they were far fainter and quite haphazard. The flower's death had covered your tracks, you were safe for now.

“It’s only gonna get worse from here, dearest.” Star grabbed for your hand, squeezing intently, “This bounty that the Royal Guard has on you, they’re hungry for their reward. You might not be able to hide with me for much longer.” The reality was as true as it was bleak, yet you couldn’t find it in your heart to waver your decision to stay with him for even a second.

“I know.” There really wasn’t any argument against it. No matter where you hid and when, your pursuers would only close in tighter and tighter. Even with North Star and Martlet on your side, you would be no match for a gathered team of fighters, nor the King of Monsters himself; Asgore.

“So, when the time comes, you’ll do what’s best for *you*, right?” You could hear the pained smile in his voice that peeled itself out in conversations like these, having become accustomed to his little quirks in emotion. What *was* right for you? To turn yourself in? Hope for mercy? To attempt an escape? Seek refuge on the surface? All were highly improbable. The most likely scenario was your own death, but that wasn’t what was best for you, was it?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your voice tugged out in breathy vowels. North Star ran a finger over your knuckles, back and forth. The gesture was rather soothing, repetitive like the rushing of the water beside you.

“When the time comes, you’ll leave and be safe on the surface.” You wanted to slap him for suggesting such a thing! But any frustration and anger that surged within you was released a mere moment after. He didn’t understand; the surface was not all that it was made out to be.

“I- I can’t guarantee anything. I could never make it to the barrier on my own.”

“You’d have me, and Martlet, the rest of the gang, and Ceroba too, I’m sure. We could help.”

“Is that really enough to see this life through, all the way to the barrier?” Certainly not. And you would never entertain such an idea if it weren’t for the fact that you could hear the pain and struggle in his tone.

He was silent, contemplative. Let his thoughts silently seep into the air around him, fog up his mind and cloud his vision. There was no way to get him out of this state, you just had to see it out.

Eventually he mumbled; “I don’t want you to leave, just don’t die on me, okay?” The hand that gripped your own shifted around your back, his hand gripping your shoulder as he hugged you to his side. “I need my best deputy to keep me in check.” He chuckled, the mood lifted.

“Hahah, of course. I’ll always be there for you.” You smiled, putting the bleak thoughts away for a while, back on the top shelf where they won’t be fiddled with.

The moment went silent, and all you could feel was the warmth of his hand on your shoulder, and the slight breeze that passed through the cavern. The stomping of your pursuer had long since ceased, the quiet room being quite the escape.

“How did you find this place anyway? It’s pretty tucked away.” You felt North Star shift beside you. It was a weirdly nice feeling, being so close to someone that you could feel their every move.

“Ah, well, Ceroba would take me here on the days when I did sales in Waterfall. She had far more freedom than I did as a kid, so she knew all the best places.” Thank goodness she did, or you might’ve been skewered back there. Though, you did feel the painful pang of jealousy, which could puncture quite a bit deeper than a sword in the right circumstances. Unluckily for you, this moment was bred for envy.

You had heard quite early on in your stay at the Wild East of Ceroba and North Star’s past together, as well as the feelings the two once shared for one another. It felt stupid to cling onto the thought, since it was apparently only a childhood crush, a remnant of the past. Though Mooch had approached you one day with cunning glee and gossiped to you about their more recent escapades; how Star had locked himself in his room for days after finding out about Ceroba’s engagement to a husband you had failed to meet thus far. Perhaps they were a quiet family, and perhaps North Star wasn’t as over Ceroba as the others may say.

After your realisation with Gerson, Star’s opinion on other’s mattered far more to you than before- If he did still have feelings for Ceroba- well, you were nothing like her!

“You okay, sweets?” Star asked, his breath warm as he spoke so close to you. He had shifted his head slightly to look down at you, where your expression had seemingly soured.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s nothin’.” You looked away and felt him lift his head off of yours, the loss of his presence was emptying, though his hand still grasped your arm, and that was more than enough to keep your heart beating.

“What were you and that shopkeep talkin’ about back there?” Oh, the question finally arrives-

“N-not much. Just some History of the war… Some stuff about humans and monsters, what they were like *before* the war.”

“Well what’d he say?”

“That the relationship between Humans and Monsters soured before the war.”

“I coulda told ya that! Why didn’t you just ask me?”

“Well, he told me some other stuff-” Was it really safe to continue this conversation any further?

“What kinda stuff?” You felt your face grow hot, a telling sign, but Star failed to read into your fluster.

“Uh, the dynamics between Humans and Monsters. How they interacted, how they treated each other.” Your tongue fiddled for the right words, sieving through synonyms and phrases to help piece together a less incriminating but all around truthful recount of your conversation with Gerson.

“So? What did he say? You seemed pretty interested in all that.” It was cute how invested he was in this; leaning forward, his other hand balled into a fist in his lap. He seemed eager to hear what you had to say.

“Well, apparently Humans and Monsters coexisted pretty well before the war. No power imbalances within the society or anything!” He nodded in response, holding his chin in his thumb and forefinger.

“How well did they get along?” He raised an eyebrow at you, “Did they…” He made some obscene gesture with his hands, and you were hit with the sheepish sense of Deja Vu. You two were so alike in some ways-

“Yeah, yeah they did.” You responded with a small chuckle, hoping the light sound would hide the obvious fluster that had overcome the two of you. “Gerson said humans weren’t his type though.” You added, hoping to play into the absurd nature of the moment.

“Can’t see where he’s coming from personally.” North Star responded with a chuckle, he was so cute like this-

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” You inquired, revelling in the comfort of the thick tension as it hugged around your shoulders.

“Humans are quite the pretty things, wouldn’t you agree?” He turned to look at you, you felt your whole body go warm. You looked away from him, embarrassed. He had cracked you once again!

“I’ve found monsters prettier than most humans.” You fired back, trying to shave off the embarrassment with your sharp words. You turned back to him, reciprocating the knowing look.

“Ah, to each their own. If this is your way of telling me you have a thing for monsters, then more power to ya.” You scoffed with a smile, punching him in the shoulder. He knew damn well what you were trying to say, but he just had to be difficult didn’t he?

A small tussle broke out between you two, playful punches and slaps. The whole thing was quite childish, but so was he in a way. This whole game of Cowboy was just an elaborate game of pretend that you devolved yourself into with glee. After pinning him down on the base of the bench, you felt the playful energy quickly dissipate. He looked up at you from under the brim of his hat.

“See. Pretty as ever.” He smiled. It was weirdly genuine, lacking the cunning and mischievous nature his smiles held in times like these.

“Oh shut it-” You responded, shifting off of him. Not today. You couldn’t tell him today- Today was too soon. Tomorrow would be too soon.

When would it be the right time?

“Let’s get going, I think we’ll be safe to leave this spot now.” You spoke out, and his expression faltered,

“Aw, I like it here.” He shifted up off of the bench, readjusting his hat. Something he was quite adamant about. “Fightin’ you is nearly as fun as it is fightin’ *with* you.” He got up off of the bench and joined you by your side. “But, it’s probably time to go. I’m missin’ home already!”

You started off, gathering a couple more bulbs here and there to retread the floral path you had previously created.

“I’m missing it too.” You uttered out, lying the bulbs on the water as they drifted into place.

“Home?” The bulbs bloomed, the two of you walked carefully to the other side, back into the dead end which was now empty.

“Yeah.” The flowers faded behind you as you retread your steps.

“Is The Wild East home for you?” You could hear his excitement, his giddy smile. You turned to see it for yourself, such a pure sight. His shoulders were up by his ears and it was clear that he struggled to stop from clasping his hands together with delight. He was always one to perform such a confident demeanour, full of flirting and brash decisions lined with reckless abandon. But sometimes he’d let the mask slip.

“It is now.” You said with a smile as the terrain around you became familiar once more. It was as true a statement as any. In the Wild East you had a bed, food, water. It was the one place you could go and not get jumped by a barrage of monsters looking to get their hands on your soul. All because Star gave you those things, you could feel safe.

You reached the end of one of the rooms in Waterfall, but before you could descend within a caverned path, Star tugged you out of the way.

“Shh, I hear someone coming.” He pushed you behind some tall grass which in all honesty did little to hide you, but it was better than nothing. Peeking through the blades of grass, you tried to see a little more of the cavern's entrance. Eventually someone came running out, tripping and clamouring into your hiding spot.

“Ow! Omigod. I’m so sorry!” The person frantically spoke, their head darting back and forth in a daze. You could recognise that tone anywhere, but the blue feathers in front of you also gave her away.

“Martlet!” You shot up from where she had tumbled into you, and as you managed your way up from the floor, you reached your hand out to pull her up. She was surprisingly heavy, for such a light and cheerful person.

“Oh! Just the person I was looking for!” Her feathered arms grabbed you by the shoulders as she shifted on her feet. She was the sort of person who was happy at everything. She turned around to see North Star close behind, a little startled at her sudden presence; “Good, you’re both okay it seems!” She spoke out.

“O’course we are. This place has nothin’ on the dangers of the Wild East.” Star responded. Martlet chuckled to herself, always entertained.

“Well, I have good news. It seems the Royal Guard have ceased their search today because of an urgent call in Hotland. Somebody’s broken into the Royal Scientists belongings. Apparently it’s a big deal.” She said all with a bored expression. The ordeal sounded rather intriguing, but to Martlet, *being* the scientist probably sounded far more fun than helping them.

“Does that mean you should be there now?” You responded, and her expression went blank.

“Uh. Well…” She flustered, “Yeah- okay. Maybe I *should* be going. But I had to tell you it was safe now.” She waved her wing back and forth, shaking off her own anxiousness.

“Well, thank you for that. I would’ve been dead otherwise, I’m sure.” You smiled at her, having not seen her face in quite a while. It was sad it had to be under such circumstances.

“No problem! It’s just what friends do. But I have to go be a Royal Guard now so I gotta go!” She turned to go back through the cavern from where she had just emerged. You bid her farewell and then just like that; she was gone.

Following her trail, the two of you headed back out through the cavern, though it seems Martlet must have taken another route for she was nowhere ahead of you.

“Thank goodness that’s over.” You ran a hand across the cavern's walls as you walked. They were thick with grass and moss that clung to the rocky walls.

“Now all we have to do is get out of here, then we can get back to business.” North Star spoke out. “Business” usually meant gallivanting around with the rest of the Feisty Five, so you were happy to go about it.

Retreading the old territory of Waterfall didn’t make the sights any less stunning. The fact that such a place both so dark and vibrant could exist was astonishing. The underground was obviously a magical place, but the sight of bright waters and an abyss of grass was simply enchanting.

“You seem to be quite fond of this place, hm?” You heard Star ask from behind as you wandered about one of the rooms,

“This place is gorgeous, and maybe I’m getting sick of the sand.” You quickly added, “Not to say I don’t like the Dunes, of course.” You heard him laugh behind you, light and full of joy. That’s what was nice about him, he wasn’t a heavy sort of person whose words carried so much weight that you couldn’t help but slow your life's pace just to keep up with them.

“Of course, of course. I’ll admit I find it quite pretty here, quite the looker in comparison to the Dunes, that’s for sure.” He caught up to you, meeting your pace.

The grass only got darker and darker, with only the blue light of the mushrooms to keep the path ahead of you visible. It was getting harder to see where you were about to step, though, something off stuck out amongst the dark grass, warm in hue about 5 metres away.

“What’s that?” You pointed out at the object, which stuck out like a sore thumb now that you had spotted it.

“Not sure, we can check it out though.” But you were already off before he finished his sentence. Getting closer, you could see that the item was pink, pleated. Ah! It was a childs Tutu! Leaning down to touch it, you felt the textured tulle fabric between your fingers. It was a strange sight, old and worn and covered in dust. On the hem, however, was an evident blood stain, bright red yet dry and faded.

You felt Star come up behind you as you both stared down at the garment. Monsters didn’t bleed, so whose blood was this?

He tensed up beside you. The answer was obvious.

“Do you know something about this?” You felt the words slip out, feeling like an idiot. The way he looked down ati t, the way he held himself now, looked like he was propped up on a wooden beam, holding him out at an uncomfortable angle. It was clear he did not want to speak on the matter, yet the question had fallen through your lips before you realised.

“I-” He bit his lip, “I think we should go.” He turned to leave, not saying much more.

For his sake, you didn’t prod any further. Perhaps someone else would spill the story instead. Though the thought hung heavy in your mind. That human, that *child* saw a fate that would be similar to your own. But they were so much younger. So much more *innocent*.

You wiped the dust off of your fingers as you left.

***

“Okay, I’ve made it. What’s the problem?”

“Dr. Alphys says some of the serum has been taken. Along with some other medical equipment.”

“Ah, that sure is worrying. What could anyone want with items like that.”

“Can’t be anything good.”

#undertale #undertale yellow #uty #uty north star #uty starlo #north star uty #starlo uty #starlo #north star #undertale yellow starlo #undertale yellow north star #starlo undertale yellow #north star undertale yellow #fanfiction #north star x reader #starlo x reader #north star uty x reader #starlo uty x reader #no country for young humans

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lcvclywon · 13 days

Text

Masterlist

Please don't spam like !!

𐙚 - fluff, ʚɞ - smau, ಇ. - written, ౨ৎ - personal favourites, 𖦹 - angst, 𖹭 - popular

ot7 loyalty test ʚɞ 𐙚

hyung line calling them in the middle of the night 𖹭 𐙚 ʚɞ

maknae line calling them in the middle of the night 𐙚 ʚɞ

yang jungwon |양정원 situationship texts ౨ৎ 𐙚 ʚɞ 𖦹 the waves and evening air ౨ৎ 𐙚 ಇ.

park sunghoon |박성훈 boyfriend texts 𖹭 𐙚 ʚɞ

sim jaeyun | 심재윤 ʚ He was a jock, She did ballet 𖹭 ಇ. ౨ৎ : where: Jake sim was a loser. Frat boy persona and charismatic antics aside, the moment Jake was alone with a girl he would freeze. Which explains his track record of having only slept with one girl all throughout college. That was until, you came in: Decelis' top ballerina and prized possession. Following a drunken one night stand and some (shitty) advice from his friends, Jake hopes you could help him out.

wips ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ ʚ our summer snapshots : jungwon x yn | based off of twinkling watermelon, lead guitarist!jungwon x photographer!yn, enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers

#yuya's world ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

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amphiptere-art · 2 months

Text

List of characters/worlds.

OC world

The locked door

Shadow wars

Shadon

Shadow

Vecerin

The brother

The sister

The light dragon king

The light dragon Prince

The hybrid

The hybrids partner

dreamers musings

Various

Chains

I will dig out that folder later.

Moss and car-car

Moss (spinosaurus)

Car-car (baby carcharodontosaurus)

Territory seeking sub adult carcharodontosaurus

FNAF

Warehouse

Dim/Dawn/Dusk

Sun

Moon

Glam Bonnie

Glam foxy

Glam Freddy

Music Man

Owner YN

Warehouse daycare

Sun

Moon

Frank the cat

Owner YN

Mechanical medic

Ralph the repair dragon

Sun

Moon

Other animatronics in the Plex

Perrfect thief

Cat King YN

Detective Sun

Police officer Moon

Gang leader Eclipse

Underground informant leader DJ

Underground informer ballerina

Underground informer mangle

Underground informer Bonnie

Rusted wheels

Sun

Moon

Rattler

Rabbit raiders

Cryptid eater

Hunter/Cryptid YN

Hunter Sun

Hunter Moon

Hunter eclipse

Saving Waves

Moon

Sun

Darkened Dawn (eclipse)

Silver reflection (Luna)

Red Wave (Blood Moon)

Monty

Freddy

Chica

Roxy

Stop you silly siren

Captain Eclipse

First mate Sun

Navigator/siren moon

Arcade project

Eclipse

Blackstar

Planet

Sun

Moon

Blood Moon

Pluto

Tsams

Red blue and black

Blue Moon (lunar/blood moon)

Sun

Moon

Black Star (eclipse)

Monty

Frankie the cat

Sundown dance the dinosaur

Horn the Dragon

Adopted by

Remorseful Lord Eclipse, Chaos

Lord's brother, infero

Kid eclipse, Moom

Adopted characters

TF traveler, refracted glow

TF trapped, crushed glow

TF servant sun, dying fire

TF Void, No light

TF ghosty, wisp

Recovering blood moon

CtOS solar

AE solar (attempted)

Old Tsams

Lunar

Sun

Moon

Eclipse

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Shattered Blue Moon (storyline end)

Strained Black Star (storyline end)

Cruel copy

Butler (eclipse)

Werewolf (Blood Moon)

Gladiator (Sun)

Pastel (Moon)

Witch (Earth)

Wizard (lunar)

Hunter (Monty)

Adopted by

Adopted characters

TF Void, virulent

Beast maker

Lunara

Eclipse

Sun

Moon

Blood Moon

Adopted by

Lord's brother, infero

Adopted characters

Empty cup

Honey (Lord lunar)

Cider (Eclipse)

Apple (wither storm)

Adopted by

Lord's brother, infero

Adopted characters

Chapter (SSC)

Story written in ash

Chapter (eclipse)

Adopted by

Lord's brother, infero

Remorseful Lord Eclipse, gluttony?

Empty cup, Honey (SSC)

Adopted characters

Separated blood moon

It's tough to be a god

Huitzilin (Hum) (Sun)

Zipacna (Zip) (Monty)

Xolotl (Xolo) (Eclipse like child)

Axo's Daddy

Adopted by

Adopted characters

TF traveler

Desolate hunger

Ravenous (lunar/blood moon)

Earth

Sun

Moon

Fork face

Monty

Adopted by

Lord's brother, infero

Kid eclipse, Moom

Remorseful Lord Eclipse, chaos

Adopted characters

Lost Lord

Eclipse

Sun

Lunar

Blood Moon

Adopted by

Adopted characters

H solar

Under the stage

Blood Moon

Moon

Lunar

Adopted by

Remorseful Lord Eclipse, wrath and sloth.

Adopted characters

Eclipse Brothers

Eclipse

Lunar

Blood Moon

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Sulky star cluster

Cygnus (eclipse)

Antares (eclipse)

Rigel (eclipse)

Algol (eclipse)

Star holder Glam Freddy

Adopted by

Autumbra au, kill code

Adopted characters

TF Traveler

Autumbra Eclipse

Toy swap

Crimple (DCA swap)

Glam toy Freddy (Glam Freddy swap)

Glam toy Chica (Roxy swap)

Glam toy Bonnie (Glam Chica swap)

Glam toy mangle (foxy swap)

Puppet (Monty swap)

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Alternate solar

Solar

Sun

Moon

Lunar

Blood Moon

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Runaway eclipse

Eclipse

Incomplete lunar

Adopted by

Lord's brother???

Remorseful Lord Eclipse???

Adopted characters

Sundown

Eclipse

Code Moon (blood moon)

Moon

Segway

Black bear

Alcoholic human friend

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Sundown Eclipse (SSC)

Actual dad eclipse

Eclipse

Dad code

Blood Moon

Sun

Moon

Lunar

Earth

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Chased eclipse

Hati (moon)

Sköll (Sun)

leiðr (eclipse)

bana (kill code)

Adopted by

Kid eclipse, Moom

Sundown Eclipse (SSC)

Adopted characters

Orion's belt

Betelgeuse, basil (Lord Lunar)

Rigel (Eclipse)

Saiph (Good wither storm)

Bellatrix, Bella (Blood Moon)

Mintata, Mika (cyborg lindworm)

Alnilam, Alnim (Sun)

Alnitak, Alnik (Moon)

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Demon alts

Blue Moon

Adopted by

Lord's brother, Vim

Adopted characters

Mer alts

Blue Moon

Black Star

Red Moon

False star

Annular

Adopted by

Adopted characters

Fey alts

Blue Moon

Crimple

Researcher Blackstar

Hunter Earth

Adopted by

Remorseful Lord Eclipse, chaos

Lord's brother, puppy

Adopted characters

Warrior cats alts (mostly created by @artoutoftheblue)

Blue Moon

Black Frost

Lion light

Rain cloud

Berry heart

Many others

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onlyonetifosi · 3 months

Text

Behind the camera -> chapter 9

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next->

author note1: angst and mean girls are back hahahah 😈😈

As the bell rang, signaling the end of another school day, Yn Leclerc gathered her belongings and made her way towards the school's exit. Her heart raced with anticipation, for today was a day like no other. The Princesse Grace Dance Academy awaited her, and the joy of dancing was the perfect escape from the troubles that awaited her outside the classroom.

Yn's golden curls bounced as she walked, and her ballet bag swung gracefully at her side. She couldn't wait to join her friends at the academy, especially her best friend, Marta. They had been through thick and thin together, supporting each other's dreams, and now they were on a journey to becoming professional ballerinas

However, the path to pursuing her passion was not without its challenges. A group of girls, once her ballet companions in her school’s ballet extracurricular activity, resented Yn for achieving what they hadn't – acceptance into the prestigious academy. The trio had never quite recovered from being left behind at the school's ballet classes, while Yn and Marta moved on to the illustrious academy.

The trio of tormentors approached, their disdain painted across their faces like poorly masked jealousy. Yn's heart raced, but she straightened her posture, determined not to let their negativity affect her.

"Regardez qui voilà, la petite danseuse étoile," Emelie sneered as they approached, their perfectly coordinated steps emphasizing the mockery in their voices. (Look who's here, the little prima ballerina)

Yn tightened her grip on her pointe shoes, her eyes narrowing at the trio. She knew what was coming, but she wasn't going to let their words break her.

"Hey, Yn, maybe you should teach us some of those fancy moves you've been learning at your 'prestigious' academy," Camille added, her tone dripping with sarcasm. (Maybe you could show us some of those fancy moves you've been learning at your 'prestigious' academy.)

The leader of the trio, Isabelle, sneered, "You might be at the academy, but you'll never truly belong."

Yn took a deep breath, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. "Merci pour votre opinion, Isabelle. (Thank you for your opinion, Isabelle)," she replied, maintaining a calm exterior despite the storm within.

Yn took a deep breath, steeling herself against the words that stung like arrows. "I don't have time for this. Leave me alone."

"Oh, la petite princesse est trop fière maintenant." (Oh, the little princess is too proud now.)

Isabelle smirked, crossing her arms. "Oh, don't worry, Yn. We just wanted to check in on our little prodigy. It must be tough being the only one from our old group to make it into the academy."

Yn's jaw clenched, but before she could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension. "Yn, there you are!" Joris approached with a bright smile, followed by Marta, Riccardo, Nico, Hugo, and of cours her brother Charles.

“Qu'est-ce qui se passe ici?" (What's going on here?) Joris asked, shooting a stern look at the other girls.

"Nothing, we were just catching up with our old friend Yn," Isabelle said, feigning innocence.

Emelie, Camille, and Isabelle exchanged glances, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected support Yn had gathered.

Isabelle sneered, "Your sister thinks she's too good for us now that she's in this fancy academy. She's not as special as she thinks."

Marta, ever the fiery defender, retorted, "Elle est incroyable, Isabelle. And you're just jealous because you couldn't make the cut."

"She doesn't deserve it! It's not fair!" ("Elle ne le mérite pas ! Ce n'est pas juste !") Camille says looking agitated

"Tough luck, maybe you should've worked harder." Marta responds while crouching down to hug Yn. "Vous n'avez rien de mieux à faire?" (Don't you have anything better to do?) Marta, standing tall beside Yn, shot a defiant look at the bullies. "What's the matter, Isabelle? Afraid Yn will outshine you?"

Charles stepped forward, his protective older brother instincts kicking in. "C'est marrant, parce que ça ressemble plutôt à du harcèlement. (Funny, because it looks more like harassment)"

Yn felt a surge of gratitude as her friends gathered around her. "These girls are just bitter because they didn't make it into the academy. Don't let them get to you" Joris placed a reassuring hand on Yn's waist

"Allons-y, YN. Ils ne valent pas notre temps" (Let's go, YN They're not worth our time) Hugo said while all the group surrounded yn to do a grupal hug and accompany her home.

The group walked away, leaving the mean girls fuming in their wake. Yn couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. With friends like these, she knew she could overcome anything that came her way.

Yn felt a wave of gratitude for her friends and her brother. Once the mean girls were out of sight, Charles put a reassuring arm around Yn. "Are you okay, petite sœur?" (little sister)

Yn nodded, touched by the unwavering support around her. "Thanks to all of you. I don't know what I would do without you."

"Come on, Yn. Let's go home," Charles said, wrapping an arm around her.

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Later, the Leclerc twins arrived home. Pascale, sensing something amiss, looked at them with concern. "Comment était votre journée, mes amours?" (How was your day, my loves?)

Yn smiled, "Ma journée était doux-amer, maman. Mais mes amis et Charles m'ont protégée." (My day was bittersweet, Mom. But my friends and Charles protected me.)

Charles, protective as always, chimed in, "Those girls were just jealous, Yn. Don't let them get to you."

Pascale, placing plates on the table, listened attentively. "Tell me, mon cherie, what happened?"

Yn, grateful for the unwavering support of her family and friends, began to recount the events of the day, while Charles interjected with comforting words.

"Elles étaient jalouses de toi, ma petite sœur," Charles reassured her. ("They were jealous of you, my little sister.")

Charles added, "Nous sommes toujours là pour elle, maman." (We're always here for her, Mom.)

Their maman beamed with pride, "Je suis si fière de vous deux. Vous êtes une équipe formidable." (I am so proud of both of you. You are a fantastic team.) Just after praising them she hurried Yn to start eating faster, "Dépêche-toi, ma ballerine, tu dois aller à l'académie de danse. L'académie t'attend (Hurry, my ballerina, you need to go to the dance academy. The academy is waiting for you)"

And in that moment, Yn knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, she had her family and friends by her side, ready to face them together.

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The afternoon passed quickly for Yn at the academy. The teachers were impressed with her progress, and they made sure to relay the good news to Pascale when she picked Yn up. Pascale couldn't help but beam with pride, knowing that her daughter was destined for greatness in the world of dance and Yn returned from the academy, tired but content

Meanwhile, Charles also arrived home after a rigorous training session at the karting track, guided by his father. Fatigue and satisfaction blended on his face.

As evening descended, the tired but satisfied twins returned home, with also their little brother Arthur, who was practicing with Charles. Pascale had prepared a feast for dinner – a family favorite, barbagiuan. The aroma filled the kitchen, welcoming the hungry trio.

The family gathered around the table, sharing stories of their day. Charles recounted the highlights of his karting training, and Yn shared the encouraging words from her dance teachers. Pascale and their papa, Hervé, listened with admiration.

"Les professeurs disent que tu as un avenir prometteur dans la danse, Yn. The teachers say you have a promising future in dance" Pascale proudly announced, raising her glass in a toast.

Arthur, always the enthusiastic one, jumped up and hugged Yn. "C'est incroyable, Yn! You're amazing!"

Charles grinned. "On est tous fiers de toi, Yn" (We're all proud of you, Yn)

Yn returned her brother's smile "Vous êtes les meilleurs frères du monde" (You're the best brothers in the world)

The night ended with laughter, shared accomplishments, and the comforting presence of family. As Yn drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but feel grateful for the support of her loved ones. No matter what challenges lay ahead, she knew she could face them with the unwavering love and encouragement of her family by her side.

i hope you liked it and if you want to know more about yn and the leclercs and the adventures they are going to follow stay tuned (more drama coming soon and pierre is doing an apereance soon)

taglist: @love4lando @gcldtom @im-mi @topguncultleader @celesteblack08 @reblog-princess @sunf1ower16 @janeholt3 @athena-artemis-dorian-gray @minkyungseokie

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