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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Text

Crackin’ the Code

prompt: Harry and YN tie the knot in a beautiful castle off the coat of Italy. Harry reflects back on his life before his love. YN has past insecurities creep on on her before the wedding.

note: this is the necklace that YN receives as (one) her wedding gifts from H and she wears it during the ceremony.

word count: 9k

warnings: smut

***<-- click for visuals throughout (super important for this one shot!)

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---

The world expected an extravagant wedding with week-long festivities, celebrations in destinations only the richest could afford, and all the big names of the business world who ran in his circle.

The media outlets were just waiting, quite impatiently, for the day that the richest man in Europe settled down with a significant other. They would have news stories for decades when it came to the couple.

Of course, Harry Styles was going to marry a household name - the public thought.

Whether it be an heiress, a model, maybe even an actress? The choices for the most eligible bachelor were limitless.

Any time he was at an event, usually a charity gala or black-tie dinner, paparazzi would take candid pictures of him with any female and then the following day publish an article about how they were a couple.

However, what the world didn’t know was that he’s been in a relationship for a year and a half, has already been engaged after the eight month mark, and moved into pretty soon after but that was hushed.

Nearly no one except a few key employees and family members knew about the couple. Everyone in his office building in the heart of London had to sign NDA’s at the beginning of their job - though almost all of them didn’t know she existed.

Harry did not put any limits on YN for the wedding planning.

No price, no expectations, nothing. If she wanted ten-thousand people or zero people in attendance that was her call. If she wanted to drop ten million dollars on a wedding or a hundred that was fine too.

The CEO never fantasized about a wedding.

Well he had but no in the terms most do. He didn’t sit and imagine the venue, the food menu, or the decorations.

No, he didn’t care about any of that, he daydreamed about the fact that he and someone would commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Harry wanted to marry his fiance after their first date.

He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.

Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.

He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.

Don’t get him wrong.

He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.

One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.

---

It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour.

The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date.

A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’

Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area.

She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.

“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures.

When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.

Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment.

She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.

Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”

She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”

He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly.

What a goddamn waste of a night.

Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being.

Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.

“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.

He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”

“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives.

Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.

When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.

It doesn’t happen often.

He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.

He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.

A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day.

They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red.

When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.

He was so fucked up.

Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.

YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting.

She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.

She was just...everything.

YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way.

Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.

She was confident in a way that girls rarely were.

Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models.

Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.

Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.

She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow.

The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.

Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much.

As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.

Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous.

Maybe back in his teenage years? If that.

It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***

YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.

He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.

When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.

Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***

YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.

She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***

When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”

His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”

She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”

Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”

YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”

YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).

The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London.

There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on.

YN had never felt more out of place.

As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”

The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”

As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”

Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”

Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”

“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.

YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner.

It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.

“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”

Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar.

For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant.

However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.

It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them.

The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.

“I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date.

YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?

She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”

Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him.

He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.

“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.

He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.

It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”

With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so.

God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.

When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”

Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.

Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.

After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***

“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.

“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight.

Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.

Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”

She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.

It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.

As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.

She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”

Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”

“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones.

He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.

They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.

After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.

YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”

“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”

“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.

“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.

“That’s a relief.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”

“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.

Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.

It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **

There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.

Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.

They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition.

Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.

He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”

YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”

“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.

“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.

“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”

“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.

They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”

“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.

It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.

Life didn’t even seem real at this moment.

She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***

She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after.

When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.

After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.

Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.

YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”

She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”

“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.

“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.

“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”

YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.

“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.

“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.

Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”

YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”

It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.

“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”

“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.

“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.

“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.

Hair and makeup went fast.

It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.

Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.

YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.

Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.

Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?

It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.

It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.

It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.

What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***

The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.

“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.

YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving.

It started to feel real.

The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.

It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.

Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.

Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.

YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.

She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.

“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.

“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.

“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.

YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“

Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”

The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.

—

Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.

YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding.

What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.

She knew exactly where Harry would be standing.

Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about.

The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design.

YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***

The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.

“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.

YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family.

When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.

Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle.

It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.

Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony.

Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.

YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***

Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.

He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.

It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***.

YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.

All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.

The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.

Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.

Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.

YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.

In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.

“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.

Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”

Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.

When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm.

Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.

“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.

When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.

“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.

“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”

YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”

“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.

His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.

A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.

YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off.

The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.

“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.

“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.

“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”

“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”

“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”

“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.

“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”

The guests in the chairs are quite speechless.

They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple.

This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.

“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.

YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”

“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.

Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”

The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.

He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”

As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.

“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.

“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.

When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.

“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.

“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.

“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.

It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.

The reception is more of a dinner than a party.

Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***

It was perfect.

Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry.

Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle.

There is not much more to say than that.

The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.

YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***

“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.

“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.

The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***

“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”

“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough.

She needs him close, she needs her husband.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.

Harry had always imagined this night.

To have someone laid out underneath him.

No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.

He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.

When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.

“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.

“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.

“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.

“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.

“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”

Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”

His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”

He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.

Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”

“I did.”

It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek.

After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay.

She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.

“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”

“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”

He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers.

She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”

“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.

“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”

“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”

Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”

YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.

Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.

“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.

“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”

And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.

She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them.

On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would.

Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.

“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.

It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.

“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.

“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.

Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.

A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.

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bratkook · 3 years

Text

almost. (m) jjk.

not yet, almost, right now

pairing. jungkook x reader genre. fluff, baby angst, smut word count. 6.4k warnings. two idiots!!, pining, masturbation (m. and f.), use of vibrator, accidental voyeurism?, more feelings come to light!! summary. jungkook tries to be the best wingman he could be in your new venture after your breakup. he could do it, right? note. part two of not yet, some more feelings are exposed, please don’t hate oc she is but a pendeja that doesn’t see the obvious feelings jungkook has but she has good intentions i promise<3 there will most likely be a final part,,if you guys are into it lmao okie bye

The cool summer breeze flows around you as you’re sitting under the shade, eyes focused on the chaos of runny yolk and hashbrowns that is your breakfast. Jungkook on the other hand, is focused on you. His signature yellow shades block out the sun reflecting from passing cars, concealing his eyes just enough for you to not see him blatantly staring at you while you stuff your face.

The charmed smile he has falters slightly when you look directly at him, hashbrown lingering by your lip as you repeat his name. “Sorry, what?”

Your brows come together as you smile at his zoned out state, something you had grown fond of in the years of knowing him, always enjoying the small dazed look that graced his face whenever he was lost in his thoughts. His lips push out slightly in question, curious eyes wondering just what you could have been asking him.

“I was saying that I think I’m giving up on crushes and love.” You say it so easily, mind made up as you grin at him before continuing to shovel hashbrowns into your mouth, only pausing to take a sip of your iced coffee.

Jungkook tries his best to seem unaffected, nodding along in interest as he takes a steady bite of his own food. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, taking a look around at the people surrounding you: friends having breakfast together and snapping photos, couples feeding each other food with smiles on their faces, a lone man with his dog perched on the seat across from his while he worked on his computer. You briefly wonder if all of them, even the dog, have better luck with love than you do.

“I think I’m cursed,” you continue. “All of my exes have been assholes, and I’ve always been too blind to see it until it’s over and I’m left crying over Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams.”

“Maybe you’re just looking for love in the wrong places,” Jungkook shrugs, internally screaming because he’s who you should be looking at if you wanted love.

Not to toot his own horn, but Jungkook liked to think he was a good guy, a great boyfriend even. His previous track record of relationships could attest to that, all of them ending on mutual terms, still friendly and civil with each other. He’s almost certain if there was a Yelp page for him it would be at least 4.5 stars with comments raving about how great he is, even little anecdotal touches about how he always gave away his hoodies or offered to cook breakfast.

He was a god damn catch, why couldn’t you see that?

“Maybe prince charming is a lot closer than you think,” he grumbles out, stabbing his omelette with a little more force than necessary, fork clanking against the plate. And when you gasp in realization he freezes, slowly looking back up at you and seeing the way your eyes widen.

“Wait, maybe you’re right!” Your hand shoots across the table, gripping onto his forearm and it sends a shock throughout him, skin tingling at your touch. “You know that coffee shop below our building? That cute barista always puts a heart next to my name. Do you think I should ask for his number?”

Jungkook blinks once, slowly twirls his fork in his hand and blinks again before staring up at the sky, mentally asking why he couldn’t just go out and say it. “Hm, I don’t think you should.“

With a defeated sigh you retract your hand, slumping back into your seat and grabbing your iced coffee once more, stirring the straw and ice around as you nod. “True. What if he feels obligated to give it to me just because he doesn’t want to get fired in case I go all Karen on his ass.”

That wasn’t why Jungkook had said not to, but sure, that works too, so he hums along.

“I bet he draws hearts on all the other girls cups too.” You huff, playfully wiping a tear under your eye with a smile.

“I’ve actually—“

“You know what I—“

You both freeze mid sentence, Jungkook’s cheeks tinted a light pink as he stutters on his words, wide eyes staring at you as if he had caught himself before you cut him off. But as you’re about to tell him to go on, he waves you off and urges you to speak first.

“I was just gonna say that maybe I should go through that wild phase people usually go through after breakups.”

He sets his silverware down on the plate and sips his water, giving you an odd look. “Wild phase? Like you wanna dye your hair red and get bangs?”

“No,” you cackle, ruffling a hand through your own hair as you picture yourself with that combination. “I should just go out and hook up with people. I feel like I’ve either been in a relationship or entirely single, so it could be fun right?”

“Uh, maybe...” he trails off, rolling his lips together in thought, not exactly fond of hearing you say that when he had felt the confession about to roll off his tongue. He takes a slow breath, trying to see this from a neutral point, the point of a supportive friend wanting to help you get over a breakup.

“How do you go about it?”

“Me?” he chokes, pointing at his chest as if there was magically some other person you could be addressing.

“Yes, you. Need I remind you, we share a wall between our beds.” You roll your eyes, but the smile on your face shows that you’re speaking of this lightly, not entirely annoyed by the fact that you had heard Jungkook during his own fair share of hook ups.

He’s not ashamed of it, but considering he never really brought up being able to hear you, he thought you’d pretend to never hear him. It wasn’t too often that he had a girl over, the number of hookups only increasing after you got with Hajoon and loosely cut ties with Jungkook. But from what you had heard—and seen thanks to your nosey self looking through peep holes once they left—it was very rarely the same girl.

So to you, Jungkook was a pro at the art of hookups.

“Right, sorry,” he grimaces, a sheepish smile on his lips as he wonders just how many times his activities kept you up at night.

“It’s fine, consider us even.” A teasing laugh follows your statement, enjoying the flustered look on his face, how his cheeks get even darker in embarrassment. Jungkook was used to the two of you talking like this, neither of you having a filter especially when it came to sexual aspects, but he hadn’t had a conversation like this since before you got with Hajoon. It would take some getting used to again.

“So, give me the tips. Where do you find people?”

Jungkook leans back into his chair, arms stretching out on either side of him, short sleeves of his black tee bunching up and revealing more of his tattoos and the rippling of his muscles. With a small laugh he rakes his hand through his fluffy hair, giving you a small smile. “Honestly? Anywhere. I’ve gotten girl’s numbers at the gym and at coffee shops, but bars are the best bet for something quick.”

“Ugh, fuck you and your pretty privilege.”

“What?” he guffaws, smiling wide and showing you his adorable smile as he laughs loudly, not caring about the attention he draws to your table. He doesn’t even realize how the table full of girls is now trying to discreetly stare at him, because his eyes are on you. You see it though, and it further proves your point. “What the hell is pretty privilege?”

Your wild hands gesture towards him, a look of disbelief on your face as you do so. “You! Of course girls line up to hand you their number, have you seen yourself? Pretty privilege,” you jab your fork at him in time with your final words, a smirk on your glossy lips.

Jungkook feels his confidence grow at your casual compliment, tongue prodding at his cheek as he stares down at his food, trying not to smile too hard. You thought he was pretty, that was a win in his book.

“C’mon,” he teases, foot gently nudging your leg underneath the table. “You could totally score someone's number. Plus there's always apps if you just wanna test the water.”

You give your plate a contemplated stare, “Sure, how hard could it be?”

Admittedly, the answer to that question was: not hard at all. You had met all your previous boyfriends in person, through mutual friends or shared classes back in college, never once dipping your toe into the world of Tinder or Bumble. Who knew all it would take was a couple of selfies and the strategic body shot to have boys circling around you like some new-age, slightly filthier version of rapunzel.

Jungkook knew though, not at all shocked by how quickly you get a match the following day when he’s at your place. His eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, helping you beat a level in your favorite game that you had been stuck on. But the second you gasp as if you’ve won the lottery, he pauses the game entirely and gives you an odd look.

“What?”

His answer comes in the form of your phone thrusted in his direction, lit up screen displaying your profile picture and the one of the boy you had just matched with. Jung Hoseok. Jungkook’s eyes narrow as he reads the name, trying to remember it in case he somehow had a friend in common that knew all the dirt on him.

He has a similar pair of yellow shades on his own head, thicker black rims around them and a charming smile on his face. Jungkook chuckles to himself. Yellow shades? How original.

“What do I say?” you question, eyes looking nervous as you wiggle the phone in his face. The small white bar beneath your match urges you to start a conversation, and coming up with the right words to say makes you overthink it all.

“Just say hi and tack on some cute emoji. It’s not that hard,” he laughs, pushing the phone back at you. Jungkook knew you could start the message off any way you wanted and this Jung Hoseok would eat it right up. How could he not, the alluring smile in your profile photo would draw anyone in.

“Okay, I did it.” Your phone is instantly locked and chucked aside in an attempt to be forgotten, choosing to grab the remote out of Jungkook’s hands for another distraction. It only lasts a brief second before you’re killed by the boss Jungkook was trying to defeat.

“Really?” Jungkook huffs, yanking the remote back into his hands, needing a distraction himself. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you were searching for a fuck buddy while he sat beside you. How crazy would it be if he suggested being your fuck buddy, offered to help you through this so called wild phase you were searching for.

No. That’s not what he wants.

Would he enjoy it? Sure. But he could already imagine how much worse his heart would hurt if his feelings came to light and yours were non-existent. That is if you’d even agree to it.

“Relax, he’s probably thinking of what to reply.”

You make a noise of disagreement, fingers itching to unlock your device to see if it was true, slowly inching towards it until you finally grab it and go back onto the app. Jungkook just chuckles as he goes back to helping you with your game, not wanting to look at you as you giggle at your device. He could already imagine what this guy was telling you for you to turn into a giddy mess not even two minutes in.

He tunes it all out, eyes focused on the screen, fingers gripping the remote with a little more force than needed. His concentration helps him though, finally passing the level you’ve been stuck on for the past two weeks.

“You’re welcome,” he sighs, making a show of stretching out and sending you a smile, having it falter slightly when he sees your eyes still focused on the screen of your phone. With a frown he looks back at the television, saving the game before turning it off altogether.

Once he gets up from the couch, making his way over to the media console to store the remotes, is when you look up at him. “You’re right, this is easy!”

Jungkook doesn’t feel the usual pride that comes with being right, but the cheerful look on your face prevents him from feeling salty. Coming back towards the couch, he sits beside you once more, facing you as he rests his elbow on the back cushion to lean on. “Told you so.”

He keeps that same smile on his face as you mention how quick Hoseok was to ask you out on a date, even as you bring up the fact that this date would be at his place, and Jungkook could decipher netflix and chill any way some greasy boy tried to conceal it.

“I hope he knows I don’t want anything serious,” you mumble, chewing on your fingernail as you scroll through the messages.

Jungkook could almost laugh at how blissfully unaware you were of the piranha infested water that was the great sea of Tinder. Of course this yellow sunglass wearing wannabe version of him knows you don’t want anything serious, why else would he be so quick to invite you over with the cheeky excuse to watch movies.

All he can do is shrug as he stares at you, lips pressed together in an effort to not say something that would totally ruin everything. Instead, Jungkook does everything he can to be the best version of a wingman you could get. He tells you the ins and outs of hookups, how you should definitely not text him the minute you leave his place and tell him you had fun, don’t talk about anything super personal involving family or your work, and if he doesn’t offer to go down on you but expects a blowjob he’s a loser.

It’s solid advice that you mentally jot down, subjecting him to further questions your mind comes up with and even asking him for help on an outfit via text the night of your hangout with Jung Hoseok.

Jungkook stares at the photos for a little too long if he’s being honest. They weren’t spectacular selfies that you had taken much effort for, their sole purpose being showing off the outfit, but the way you look so focused as you snapped the shot had him zooming into your face and smiling like an idiot. When you double text him with a long line of question marks he snaps out of it, deciding on the second option you picked of mom jeans and a cropped shirt. Cute and casual, and definitely something Jungkook preferred, but he’d never tell you that.

When you finally text him a thumbs up and tell him you’re on your way out he just hearts the message before locking his device and trudging to the living room. It’s not often that he wallows in self pity, spacing those days out so far he barely remembers them. But they usually went exactly like this, ordering a large meat lovers pizza with extra cheese, drinking far too many Mike’s hard lemonade—because despite how much they made his stomach hurt they were tasty so he didn’t care—and binge watching his comfort show: Modern Family.

But even as he sulks on his couch, practically sinking into the cushions with horrible posture and a slice of pizza resting on his chest, he can’t find it in himself to chuckle at Cam and Mitch’s usual banter. He’s too busy thinking about which movie you’re currently watching, if you were watching it. Who’s Jungkook kidding though, you were totally getting your guts rearranged right now.

Taking an aggressive bite out of the crust he frowns and raises the volume up on his television, attempting to drown the mocking voice in his head calling him a loser for not admitting to his feelings. He knew this, knew he should have said something when he wanted to at breakfast, but Jungkook was afraid that if he confessed as you were talking about hooking up, that you’d see him as taking advantage of a situation instead of being genuine. I mean who wouldn’t? You say you want something casual and suddenly he’s spilling his heart out and you’re supposed to believe he’s not some pig trying to butter you up. He didn’t want to get labeled as a creepy neighbor after the good times you’ve had.

“So stupid,” he grumbles to himself as he takes another swig, the last drops of the alcohol hitting his tongue with a tangy aftertaste. As he sits up to place the empty bottle onto his coffee table his muscles ache, neck stiff from the unfortunate position it had been subjected to for the last three hours. With a small huff he’s rolling his shoulders, reaching for his discarded phone to see the time—and also check if you’d sent him some SOS text—but he finds nothing besides the bright numbers indicating that it was nearing midnight.

In true pity party day fashion, he doesn’t even bother cleaning up after his mess, just tossing the dirty dishes into the sink to be washed tomorrow when he would force himself to be in a better mood. Instead, he grabs a water and his phone and waddles into his bedroom.

The moonlight illuminates the space enough for him to keep the light switch off, undressing from his crumb covered sweats and shirt, choosing to remain in his boxers as he slipped under the cold duvet. The sheets feel fresh against his hot cheeks, flush from the alcohol, cooling him down and making his body relax.

Jungkook knows he should sleep, needing to be up early tomorrow for work, but he can’t stop his mind from wandering into dangerous territory. His buzzed brain has no qualms imagining exactly what you were doing right now, wondering if you’d be the type to act shy at a guy’s house for the first time, if you’d initiate the first move or not. Jungkook had only seen it up close once under the flash of strobe lights and the haze of alcohol, but he can still picture the soft smile on your face before you go in for a kiss, and he grumbles under his breath when he realizes that he wouldn’t be the one kissing you tonight.

What he doesn’t know, is that you wouldn’t be the one getting kissed tonight either. The Jung Hoseok you had perceived through Tinder, assuming he was all casual and DTF with his netflix and chill suggestion, had been anything but. What you thought would be a steamy night, ended up becoming a nice dinner and comedy watched, morphing into some version of game night where you discovered he was a little too competitive than you were used to. The only action you got was a kiss to your cheek as he walked you to your car and a promise for another date. A promise you would not be keeping.

So as Jungkook lays in bed while his thoughts turn into some fantasy of you moaning out his name, you shuffle into your bedroom and slip into your pajamas with a defeated sigh. You had already texted your best friend telling her what a bust tonight had been, deciding to just tell Jungkook all about it tomorrow because you knew he was most likely fast asleep now. And as you settle under your own covers, inches away from Jungkook with only a wall seperating you, you decide to just call it a night and pretend it never happened.

Just as you shut your eyes, nuzzling into your pillow, you hear the first moan come from behind the wall. A small cry of despair escapes you as you bury your face into your sheets, tugging them up and over your head to block the sound of Jungkook getting some action the same night you had been left high and dry. Of course he would, assuming you’d be getting the same treatment at your date's place, why wouldn’t he take advantage of your absence and not have to muffle his partner’s moans the way he usually did.

You’re just going to ignore it, until you hear a moan that sounds strangely like your own name. Maybe it's wishful thinking on your part, your horny brain deciding to pretend that Jungkook was calling for you instead of whoever he was with. It might be a little wrong for you to have that fantasy of your neighbor, but you aren’t blind. He’s hot, and adorably sweet, the perfect package for any girl he tried to swoon. And judging by the cries you’ve heard of lucky girls prior, you know he was good in bed.

You’re just desperate now. That’s the excuse you tell yourself as you slowly settle onto your back, feeling your body warm up when you focus on his muffled groans, desperate and needy. As your hand slowly slides down your shirt, you shut your eyes, biting down onto your lip to muffle any sound you could make when your fingers slip underneath your pants and past your underwear.

Jungkook on the other hand doesn’t care about his volume. His boxers are tugged down his thighs, knees bent as he slowly ruts into his sticky palm. His hand is tacky with the lube he had messily squirted on, thick cock glistening in the light coming in from his window. He can’t look away from it, mouth dropped open as he groans, imagining it was your hand tightly wrapped around him, your spit covering his cock instead of that strawberry flavored lube.

“Ah fuck,” he moans, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back onto his soft pillows when his thumb rubs along his slit. It continues to leak beads of precum, quickly wiped away to join the mess on his cock when his hand slides back down and squeezes along his base.

You hear that loud and clear, and when the female voice you’re expecting never follows, you realize he must be taking care of himself. It makes you feel a little less guilty now as your fingers trail along your slit, collecting the slick coating your folds before you softly circle your clit. A choked gasp fills the air at the small sensation, your body already wired after having expected to get some action tonight; it totally had nothing to do with your hot neighbor jacking off inches away from you.

With your eyes fluttering shut, you strain your ears to make out any other noise, muffling your own groans with a hand pressed against your mouth. The bed creaks lightly underneath you as you roll your hips into your hand, getting into a smooth rhythm that makes your body buzz.

Slowly, your imagination runs wild, and you wonder just what Jungkook was thinking of as he did this. Was he watching some porn as he did it, using his own filthy thoughts to push himself to ecstacy, or was this just something he needed to do to be able to sleep?

“Shit, so good,” he groans out, voice raspy, but you can sense his desperation through the drywall. It’s what has you sinking a single digit into your drenched entrance, biting down onto your lower lip when you feel the glide of your walls as you start to thrust into yourself, easing in another and mewling at the slight stretch.

Jungkook would absolutely give his left leg to know what your pussy felt like, he didn’t even care how disgusting he sounded by admitting that to himself, it was true. Blame it on the hard lemonade that made his stomach ache and his mind unfiltered, but he could almost visualize how you’d look above him, could practically feel the warmth of your core wrapped around him, dripping down his length as he fucked into you.

He knows you’re loud in bed, never being one to conceal your cries of pleasure and he would die happy to hear his name come out of your mouth as you creamed his cock. But for now, his hand would have to do.

His lids feel too heavy, jaw slack as the pleasure flows through his body. The wet squelch of his palm fills the room, mingling with his pants and groans, air growing thick around him. It’s been a while since Jungkook had jacked off, and even longer since he’d been able to do it shamelessly in bed without the fear of you hearing him, but now that he thought you were gone he can’t find it in himself to cover his mouth or groan into his pillows like he usually did.

The pent up frustration fogs up his mind, cranks the lust up to 11 until his free hand is gripping his sheets beside him, bed frame creaking as his thrusts speed up. The thuds of his headboard hitting the wall come from behind you, a choked moan blending in with it, and it has you scrambling for your bedside drawer.

The pajamas you wear get yanked off your legs and tossed aside after you grab your trusty vibrator, settling onto your back once more with huff. All it takes is a press of a button for the device to come to life, buzzing in your hand as you trail it up your thighs. A gasp escapes you when you pass it over your mound, brushing against your clit and sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

“Oh my god,” you whimper when you finally press the vibrating head directly onto your sensitive clit, legs spreading further apart as you increase the intensity. You could clearly hear the raise in Jungkook’s moans, and that's when the first irrational thought pops into your mind.

How easy would it be for you to head over to his place and deal with both of your problems. Surely Jungkook wouldn’t have an issue with you offering to suck his dick, wouldn’t mind letting you sink down onto him if it was just a friendly favor.

The little devil on your shoulder tells you it would be mutually beneficial, urging you to get up and walk to Jungkook’s with the vibrator still in your hand, but you can’t. This alone felt like enough of a dirty secret, a secret you’d have absolutely no problem keeping because although you feel slightly ashamed, you couldn’t deny how turned on you are.

The flashes of all the times you’ve heard Jungkook with other people play in your mind, the screams of his name that he tried to muffle, pleas for him to go faster, the resounding smack of his palm on flesh that always left you wide eyed when you heard it. And you start to wonder if maybe you’d be into that, the feeling of his large tattooed hand connecting with your ass, gently tapping against your cheek for you to open up for his cock.

That fantasy is like the first ember needed to start the fire inside of you, spreading uncontrollably until you’re bucking into your vibrator, teeth biting down on your lip to keep any potential moans of his name from slipping out.

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, the same fire burning within him. Maybe your minds are linked telepathically, his thoughts gravitating to the same filthy fantasy you had. Jungkook was very much an ass man, knowing very well how good your butt looked in jeans from how often he stared at it, he could only imagine how good it would look as he fucked you from behind. Picturing the way it would bounce back from the force of his thrusts, eyes glued to the way you’d soak his cock, mimicking the tightness of your walls with a firm grip of his palm.

Jungkook can sense his orgasm approaching, leaves his chest feeling tight as he pants, legs gliding along his sheets for leverage to continue fucking into his hand. You’re not far off either, vibrator set to the highest setting you can practically feel your bones rattling, free hand slipped under your shirt as you pinch at your pebbled nipples. You’re both on the brink of falling over the edge, the same question playing in your mind: where would you want Jungkook to cum?

As his moans get breathier, whiny in a way you’d never imagine them to be, you mentally decide that you’d want him to cum inside of you, wanting to see the way his cute face would twist up in pleasure as he filled you up. Jungkook hopes you would, throwing all responsible thinking aside for that sweet moment of ecstasy and the mental picture is enough to finally push him over.

“Ah shit, baby,” he cries out in his room—thankfully having half the mind to not cry out your name as he came—eyes rolling back as his cock twitches in his palm, ribbons of cum splashing onto his stomach and chest. The warmth hits his skin, more droplets continuing to leak out as his palm milks his orgasm, stomach hiccuping and back arching from the stimulation.

The choked moan is what has your own orgasm washing over you, your palm slapping over your mouth so hard you know you’ll feel the ache later but you don’t care. A muffled gasp blends with the buzzing of your toy, thighs tensing up as your body tingles and writhes around on your sheets.

The only thing you can think of is Jungkook, the charming smile he’d give you when he listened to you rant about anything, his annoying habit of rolling up his sleeves to show off his muscles, the cute scowl on his face whenever you managed to beat him at Mario Kart, and the soft feeling of his alcohol coated lips on yours. It leaves you feeling warm as your orgasm flows through you, lying limp on the bed as you mewl at the sensitivity.

When you realize your thoughts have strayed from ‘pure sexy Jungkook fantasyland’, and switched over to ‘Jeon Jungkook your adorable neighbor’, your eyes go wide, finger immediately going to turn off the vibrator. In your haste to shut it off, you click the wrong button, changing the pulsing settings and nearly screaming when the device starts to buzz erratically against your overly sensitive clit.

With a strained gasp you yank it away from yourself, turn it off and throw it aside, horribly miscalculating the size of your bed and watching in horror as it lands on the floor with a loud thud. The complete silence from both sides makes the noise sound deafening, and all you can do is sit on your bed, half naked, and hope Jungkook is still too busy basking in his post orgasm bliss to hear the bang.

Although the blood is still pumping in his ears, he heard the thud clearly. His heart stops in his chest as he lays there, too scared to breathe in case he’d somehow make too much noise, suddenly afraid of being too loud after he had just made a show of himself. Jungkook slowly sits himself up, grimacing at the stickiness on his stomach before pressing his ear against his headboard to try to hear anything else.

All you want to do is yank the covers over yourself and go to sleep, pretend your horrendous date and your dirty thoughts about your friend never happened. The sobering mentality that comes after an orgasm settles into you, leaving you staring at the floor with a crease between your brows as you wonder what the hell came over you.

When Jungkook hears nothing else, he sighs in relief, hauling himself out of bed to grab another pair of underwear before entering his bathroom to clean up. As he stares at his own reflection in the mirror, he frowns at how pathetic he feels. The throbbing headache of his earlier drinks is already starting to kick in, body now sweaty from exertion, stomach covered in his cum.

“Such a loser,” he grumbles out, grabbing a wad of tissues to wipe away the mess on his skin before walking back out. Here he was, getting off to the thought of you, while you were out having your post-breakup wild phase.

His hands grab his phone as he reaches his nightstand, flopping back onto the bed and unlocking the device. It’s now one in the morning, and you still hadn’t text him, which either meant you were having the time of your life, or Jungkook had to track down this Jung Hoseok. The slightly protective side of him won’t allow him to sleep until he hears back from you, fingers already typing out a message and hitting send.

Jungkook 1:23am : you safe or am i gonna have to go all Liam Neeson on this guy?

When your phone vibrates on your nightstand you gasp, grabbing it before it could make any more noise. Seeing Jungkook’s name flash on the screen makes your blood run cold, already imagining what the text could be: calling you dirty for getting off on him, making fun of you, telling you to come ove—no stop that.

Finally mustering up the courage, you open it up, a small laugh spilling out as you read his message, relief flooding through you as you realize that meant he thought you were still with Hoseok.

Y/N 1:26am : oh yeah, you gonna show him your very particular set of skills? lol

Y/N 1:26am : i just got home though

Y/N 1:26am : like right now

Y/N 1:26am : still sitting in my living room

Y/N 1:27am : haha

He laughs at your string of texts, something you hear as he settles into bed. Jungkook ebbs away the small feeling of jealousy in his chest, trying to see the silver lining of this. You weren’t rushing to tell him anything about your date which meant it either went so good you wanted to keep it to yourself, or it was subpar and you wouldn’t be seeing this yellow sunglass wearing copycat again.

Jungkook 1:29am : glad you got home safe, goodnight y/n!

Sending back a goodnight text, you lock your phone and slide deeper into bed, pulling the sheets up to your chin as you stare at the ceiling. You already know the only thing you’ll be dreaming about is your cute neighbor with a bunny smile and body proportions that contradicted it. And as Jungkook lays in bed, wondering if he’ll have to push the crush aside, you’re barely coming to terms with the fact that the small glowing feeling that came with being around him might be something else.

Every single one of your interactions gets rewinded and played back like a seamless montage, remembering just how many almost moments there was between you. The way his eyes would flash down to your lips whenever you playfully argued on your couch, hands yanking the remotes from his in a game of tug of war that left you way too close in the heat of the moment. How he’d let you braid his hair anytime you found a new youtube tutorial, his starry eyes staring at you with so much adoration it made your stomach flip, brushing it off as love for a friend.

Then came the jokes from your friends, constantly teasing you about Jungkook, playfully saying they would try to sleep with him just because they liked the scowl on your face, and how quickly you tried to play it off. How the sweet old lady from the convenience store downstairs always assumed you were dating when you came in together, the low jab she sent when you walked in with Hajoon and she said she preferred you with Jungkook. That argument had been one of the ones that left him bolting out of your apartment with a nasty slam of the door, spewing nasty words at you, calling you blind for not seeing it and dumb for acting like you had no idea what he was talking about.

And for the first time, you come to the sudden realization that Hajoon was right. His deep set insecurities about Jungkook had stemmed from scraps of the truth, not just from him but from you too. The amount of times you’d find a way to slide Jungkook’s name into a conversation about anything, telling him funny stories about him, too lost in thought to see that while you were giggling as you reminisce, he was staring at you in disbelief.

The final thought that makes you want a blackhole to swallow you up, comes in the form of you, grabbing Jungkook’s face before planting a kiss on his unsuspecting lips at the club. You want to scream into your pillow as you recall it, how he had almost leaned back in to kiss you again before you had sobered him up with your dumb question rooted in revenge.

“Oh my god, I’m such a bitch.” you whimper. Subjecting Jungkook to be your wingman, jokingly telling him he should be your fake boyfriend more often, asking him for tips with hook ups. If everyone else could see it but you, he probably thought you were purposely friendzoning him.

The guilt piles on top of you as you start to piece together every moment that flew over your head, only making you bury yourself deeper into your sheets. It makes your heart twist, taking note of how Jungkook was always so quick to put a smile on his face despite how naive you were to it all, wondering if maybe it was too late to try to make something of this now. How many times could you call Jungkook ‘bro’ and treat him like you didn’t see him romantically, before he decided there was no hope for him anymore.

So as you force yourself to sleep, nerves and uncertainty weighing heavy on your mind, Jungkook snores away as he dreams of the almost moments that could have been.

#heartsforbts #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #bangtansorciere #bangtaninn #ficswithluv #btscreatorscorner #jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #bts smut #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #bts fics #new

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beautiful-and-terrible · 3 years

Text

little things

Rating: Gen

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, SoftBoi!Rodrick, Insecure!Reader

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Warnings: Body Image, Eating Disorders / Body Dysmorphia, Insecurity

A/N: this is. SO shmoopy and cheesy lmaoooo but this was an anon request and i live to please :) enjoy!

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You dragged yourself through your front door, kicking off your shoes in the foyer. The house was dark - your parents were probably asleep already.

You had just spent the day with Rodrick at Six Flags, and you were exhausted from spending all day in the hot sun, running around with your boyfriend like children. You smiled to yourself thinking about the events of the day, the thrill of the rollercoasters you went on.

You clutched the teddy bear Rodrick had won you close to your chest as you slowly ascended the stairs, trying not to make too much noise.

You entered your room and tenderly placed the bear on the bed, giving it a little kiss on the head as you did so before starting your night routine. Change into pajamas, brush teeth, wash face. As you were putting on your final face cream, your phone vibrated on the bathroom counter. You knew who it was from the specific rhythm of the vibration - two short bursts, like a heartbeat.

Rodrick had sent pictures of you two from today - a lot of selfies, but also a couple of far away shots that Rodrick had harassed people into taking for you. People rarely were able to say no to Rodrick once he had gotten an idea into his head - even if that idea was wrapping himself around a street lamp like a stripper for a good picture.

You finally, blissfully laid down in bed, letting out a giant groan as you cracked your back. You browsed the photos, feeling your heart-rate pick up as you gazed at Rodrick in the pictures. He looked so cute today - he had been wearing cut off black jeans, black high-top vans, and a loose button down Hawaiian shirt, half-way unbuttoned to show off his tanned chest and the multiple layers of silver necklaces he was wearing. His nails were painted black, but his eyes were free of makeup, simply accented by his naturally long eye-lashes and the smile-lines around his eyes.

After admiring Rodrick, you turned your gaze to yourself in the pictures. You felt your heart sink into your stomach. When you had left the house this morning, you had felt pretty confident in your outfit - just ripped jean shorts and a crop-top with converse. But as you looked closer, you couldn’t stop thinking about how unsatisfied you felt with the way you looked in the pictures.

As you continued to scroll through, the more faults you found in your appearance. Your thighs being squeezed by your shorts, which didn’t feel too tight but apparently were not as flattering as you thought. In one picture, you were sitting down on a bench, your legs over Rodrick’s lap, but you couldn’t stop staring at the roll of your stomach that came over the waistband of your shorts. You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you stubbornly refused to cry. You spent a long time trying to feel confident in yourself - you weren’t going to let that hard work be ruined by a few unflattering photos.

However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way your body looked in those pictures. You got up to stand in front of your full length mirror, looking at the reflection critically. You were craning your neck to look at your butt when you heard a soft tap-tap-tap at the window. You jumped about 2 feet in the air before you realized it was just Rodrick, grinning from outside the window and placing a wet kiss on the glass, making you laugh. He made a grossed-out expression when he realized the glass was not as clean as he thought it was, wiping his tongue on the back of his hand.

“I swear to God, you’re like a toddler. Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to lick random surfaces?” you asked as you opened the window to let him in. He folded himself gracefully through the window, all long limbs and messy hair. You felt both comforted and electrified in his presence.

“Since when have I ever listened to any authority figure?” Rodrick asked, grinning wolfishly and leaning down to kiss you softly, juxtaposing his rebellious tone. For someone with such a seemingly hard exterior, Rodrick was always very gentle and sweet with you. It was one of the things you loved most about him - he seemed to hate everyone but you. It made you feel special and appreciated.

As he pulled back from the kiss, he frowned, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Have you been crying? Your eyes are red,” he said, making a pouty face. You shrugged, turning away and shaking your head.

“No, just allergies probably.”

Rodrick scoffed, “Sure, allergies. You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You refused to look at him, instead going to your record player and flipping through the vinyls you had stacked in a black milk-crate. “I’m not a bad liar,” you said half-heartedly, not really able to come up with any other excuse.

“You totally are, you avoided eye contact and everything. Seriously, what's wrong? Do you not like the bear?” Rodrick asked. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, his chest pressed against your back, his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. You felt yourself smile despite your bad mood.

“No, I love the bear. I named him Sasha Bear-on Cohen. Get it?” you said, turning your head to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Ahh, a-very nice,” Rodrick replied in his best Borat impression. You giggled. He gave you a squeeze, hands warm on your waist, but the sensation made you self-conscious about your body again, and you wiggled away. You couldn’t understand how Rodrick could bear to touch you. You had no idea why he was attracted to you in the first place. It made tears spring to your eyes again, and you sniffled.

“Y/n”, Rodrick said softly, looking genuinely concerned. “I know you. You don’t get sad for no reason - unless you’re on your period, or you start thinking too much about the Mars Curiosity Rover.”

You sighed, but you knew he had a point. It took you a minute to get your thoughts into words before you spoke.

“I just... I know its silly. But those pictures - you look like a Hot Topic wet dream and I look... I don’t know. I just don’t like the way I look. And most of the time I don’t let it bother me - at least, I try - but I hate having my picture taken because whenever I see them, all I can see is the things I hate about myself. So. Yeah.”

You feel the tears making steady rivers down your cheeks, and your voice shakes as you speak. Rodrick listens attentively, sitting on the foot of your bed. He pats the space next to him, and you sit down. His hand rests on your leg - not constraining you or placating you with a hug, just letting you know he’s there.

“Y/n, I don’t know how to tell you this without sounding like a giant cheese-ball, but... holy fuck. You are so beautiful. I - every time I look at you all I can think is goddamn, I can’t believe she’s into a loser like me. And don’t argue, it’s just a fact,” he says quickly as you try to defend him from his own self-deprecation.

“I’m not good with words... I’m more of a man of action, y’know?” he says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. You smack him on the arm, but his silly expression still makes you smile.

“But, I can still tell you - and don’t repeat this to anyone ever because I’ll never live it down - you give me butterflies. Every time. No matter if you’re in pajamas or a ballgown. You make me feel like a stack of pancakes with warm butter and syrup,” he pauses as you laugh, his warm brown eyes gazing into yours. “Just... I don’t even know what I’m saying at this point. You make my bones feel funny. That’s how beautiful you are.”

Rodrick finally wraps his arms around you. You let yourself be folded into the embrace, feeling content and more than a little overwhelmed by his confession.

“Thank you,” you murmur, unable to find any other words at the moment. You want to say all of that back to him, ten-fold. You want to tell him he makes you feel like flashing concert lights and Fourth of July fireworks. But your mouth can’t make the words, so you just wrap your arms around him tighter.

“Do you want me to spend the night?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your temple. You simply nod, already moving up the bed and pulling back the covers as Rodrick goes to turn out the lights.

In the dark of the room, only illuminated by the street-lamp outside your house, Rodrick looks very alien - all long lines and lean angles. It makes your heart-rate kick up again, and you feel a blush form on your cheeks. It’s not as though this is the first time you’ve slept in the same bed, or even been intimate, but this feels... different.

Rodrick tucks himself in next to you on your bed - it’s a queen size, so it fits both of you well enough that you could sleep together not touching if you wanted to. But Rodrick is a big cuddler at heart, even if he would deny it to his grave. He wraps his arms around your waist as you lay your head on his chest, already being lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

You feel like it’s important to tell him before you both lose the tenderness of the moment, so you finally open your mouth to speak.

“I’m so lucky. I know you think you’re... a loser, or whatever but, Rodrick. You aren’t. You are so beyond cool, and brave, and courageous. Thinking about you makes my head spin. And whenever I see you... I’m home.” You trail off, feeling awkward, but Rodrick simply tightens his arms around you, stroking your back with his fingers.

“If I knew we were getting this sentimental I wouldn’t have brought lube... and maybe a few tissues,” he snickers, and you pinch his nipple, causing him to squeal.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch,” he teases back, and you sigh softly, feeling your body and mind relax. You had almost completely forgotten about the pictures - and at this point, you didn’t really care. The pictures didn’t speak. The only voice telling you that you weren’t beautiful was the one inside your head, and it could definitely be a bitch sometimes.

You could’ve imagined it, but as your brain was finally shutting down, you could’ve sworn you heard Rodrick start to sing, “you are my sunshine... my only sunshine...”

“you make me happy... when skies are gray...”

“you’ll never know, dear, how much i love you...”

“please don’t take my sunshine away...”

#devon bostick #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley fanfiction #rodrick heffley fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #comfort fanfiction #comfort fanfic #hurt fanfiction #hurt fanfic #hurt/comfort fanfic #Diary of a Wimpy Kid

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soramei · 3 years

Text

Intentional - Part 5

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, eventual smut

Word Count: 4.0k

Masterlist

A/N: yeah so about that upload... i was really busy this whole week but i hope to start uploading mondays again! thanks for understanding!!

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon @hvunvely @fluffybitch0325 @fashi0nablee @juststop88 @straykisz @theultimaterad @margaritas-en-la-montania @meowtella

There was a pause in the phone call.

You started biting your nails, instantly regretting what you had just done. Basking in your stupidity, you could only wait for his response, for it was too late to retract what you had just said. Your day must have been worse than you thought. It must have been so bad that you had the nerve to ask Bang Chan — an idol, a person with a strict schedule, somebody who you had an argument with — to come over to your pathetic little apartment.

You kept nibbling on your fingers.

“I’ll get my jacket.”

You froze, eyes wide.

“Huh?” You were bewildered. You weren’t even expecting an answer, much less this.

“It’s cold this late at night,” he explained, “I’ll be there soon.”

You didn’t know what to say. You heard rustling on the other side of the call.

“Wait, I’ll tell you my address,” you blurted out.

“You did,” he said.

You frowned, trying to remember if you did or not. That’s right. You blushed at the memory of your first day of work.

“Oh yeah, umm, I’ll hang up now.” You awkwardly said, hanging up before Bang Chan could fit another word in.

You were a statue in your own apartment, clinging on to the last words exchanged on your phone. In actuality, you didn’t know why you asked him to come over. It was just blurted out in the moment. Or maybe it was a result of your extremely frustrating day. Either way, you felt extremely embarrassed that you did so, especially so late at night.

You started boiling some water, still trying to rationalize what you had just done. This was normal for friends, right? Na-eun and Yoojin came over just yesterday and you were friends with both of them. You knew for a fact that you two were friends, but you still couldn’t find an explanation for the strange feeling in your chest whenever you were around him.

Turning your phone on, you checked your face in the selfie camera. It was a miracle that your makeup didn’t smudge off. You thanked your new ‘CLIO’ foundation cushion, it looked like all that time you spent doing your makeup didn’t go to waste. You stared at your reflection for a couple more seconds before turning your phone off. Why did it matter what you looked like anyways? You wiped off any remaining lipstick with the back of your hand.

The kettle started rumbling, letting you know that the water was ready. You took out your mug to prepare some tea. It was a bad idea to have tea this late at night, but there was something about your mother’s tea that could knock a grown man out.

Sipping your tea, you turned on Youtube to an episode of a Korean web-drama that was getting really popular. It was another one with some rich CEO and a clumsy average girl, but you still watched, fully enamoured. On the recommendations list, there was a video with Felix — the other person you saw at the cafeteria on your first day — on the thumbnail. I can never escape from work, you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes.

You clicked on it anyways, just to pass the time. Watching through the video, you were shocked by the production value. Well, that, and Bang Chan. Whether it was hair and makeup or just his acting, he was so different from the person you knew in real life. You were in awe by his natural charisma gleaming at you through the screen as it was a rare quality that few people you knew possessed. Embarrassingly, you found your eyes drawn to only him in every group shot. He looked good in an apron.

You got distracted by more random videos before clicking back on your drama. The next episode was just about to start when the buzzer to your apartment rang.

It was Bang Chan.

Hurriedly, you shuffled towards your door. With your hand on the handle, you took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“Hey,” he smiled back. He was leaning over you, his forearm on the doorframe. His coat was bulky, almost engulfing his whole upper body. He was wearing the same beanie you saw on multiple occasions, and in his hand was a white plastic bag.

You stepped aside, silently gesturing for him to come inside. He took your hint and sauntered in the room, head turning left and right to observe his surroundings.

“It’s not much,” you blushed, realizing how small your apartment really was. You could basically see all your belongings from the center of the room.

“No, it’s cute.” Bang Chan looked at you, taking his hat off. His dimple peaked out. “I brought some leftovers from that barbecue place. The kids and I went there after our shoot today.”

So that was what the bag was. With only food on your mind, you rushed to help hang Bang Chan’s coat before setting the table up.

The food was really good. They were leftovers, but it was so good. Stuffing a bite of pork belly in your mouth, you sighed. Where was this food earlier today?

“It’s good, right?” Bang Chan asked whilst chewing on a piece of meat. “I’ll take you next time.”

It was like he read your mind. You nodded eagerly in response, to which Bang Chan replied with a smirk.

“So, uh,” he scratched the back of his neck, “how was your date today?”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to remember that embarrassment of a night. It was such a pity too, because that man was probably the most gorgeous man you’ve ever witnessed. You swore he had just stepped out of a webtoon when you first met him.

“It was alright,” you shrugged. It was difficult to reflect on the date without putting a damper on your mood, but maybe vocalizing it would have helped ease your discomfort. “He compared me to a model, you know.”

Bang Chan chuckled, making you look up in confusion.

“Was it because you looked exactly like the model?”

“No,” you replied.

His face immediately fell. “You’re kidding, right? Y/n, tell me you don’t believe anything that loser said. He’s got to be something below garbage if he was comparing two women.”

“Thanks, Chan.” You tried to force a grin on your face. “I appreciate it.”

There was a pause.

“I know my opinion means nothing, but Y/n, I think you’re beautiful.”

You stared into Bang Chan’s eyes, frozen like a statue. Your heart was beating so loud that you could hear it more than you could feel it. He stared back at you from across the table; mouth parted, breaths uneven.

You’ve received many compliments before, to which you would always reply with a smile and a quick ‘thank you’. However, it felt as if your brain malfunctioned in this moment and your heart was the only thing keeping you alive. You could still feel your body, but you couldn’t think.

“Thank you, Chan.” You awkwardly coughed, blushing profusely. Immediately focusing your eyes at the table, you couldn’t bear to keep looking at him.

The two of you ate in silence, with only the tapping of chopsticks adding to the ambience of the room. You wanted to make conversation with him, but you did not want to be the first one to break the silence. It frustrated you that you were so shy right now as you’ve never been like this back home.

To heck with it, you thought. There was no need to be shy around him.

“So,” you still couldn’t look him in the face, “any shows you’ve been watching lately?”

Small talk was good. You could do small talk.

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to watch this Transformers movie for quite a while.”

“Transformers?” You’ve never heard of that one. It must’ve been an American movie.

“Seriously?” his eyes widened. “You’ve never seen Transformers before? Oh, we’ve gotta watch it now.”

“You wanna?” you smiled. “I haven’t used my TV since moving in.”

“Mhm, let’s do it.” He stuffed the rest of the leftovers in his mouth before standing up and clearing the table.

You watched him clear the table in a trance. You should have offered to help since it was your own home, but watching the veins on his hands appear and disappear was way more interesting. Watching him, you suddenly remembered the hoodie.

“Oh, that’s right!” You exclaimed, shuffling over to the bag with the hoodie in it. Taking Bang Chan’s black hoodie out, you held it up to him with both hands.

He looked down at you and chuckled.

“Keep it,” he took it from your hands and slipped the hoodie over your head. “At least until you buy a new jacket.”

“I will.” You rolled the sleeves of his hoodie higher to show your hands. You turned the light off, leaving only the floor lamp to illuminate your apartment. Grabbing the remote from your coffee table, you summoned Bang Chan over to the couch.

You turned on the TV, fooling around with the remote control for a few seconds before giving up.

“I give up.” You sighed. Pouting, you handed the remote over to Bang Chan. He took it from you and started reading the buttons.

“Netflix, right?” Bang Chan asked, to which you nodded. “There we go.”

He scrolled through the titles, looking for the coveted movie. Once he found the movie, he quickly selected it and turned the subtitles on. That was nice of him, you thought. Although you also studied english in university, it was nowhere near the level of watching a full english movie.

The title sequence started and you tried to immerse yourself in the movie. You watched in awe, surprised at the fast pace of the action already.

Fully engrossed, you started to sink your back into the couch. Half-way throughout the title scene, you felt Bang Chan stretch his arm behind you to rest on the back pillow. Suddenly, you started feeling too aware of your surroundings. You sat up straighter.

Throughout the whole movie, you caught wafts of Bang Chan’s cologne everytime he moved. He smelled like safety and familiarity.

You turned your head up a little to get a glimpse of his profile, mapping out every edge and curve of his face. The light illuminated the tip of his nose, along with his dewy cheekbones and chin. The plum of his lips were let slightly open, allowing his teeth to peek out slightly. You unconsciously let out a sigh.

“Something wrong?” He turned his body to face you.

You shook your head and focused on the movie.

The rest of the movie was pretty good, although it lost you at parts. You watched the end credits in silence, not knowing what to say.

“So,” Bang Chan cleared his throat beside you, “I should get going now. Since it’s late.”

You turned your head to face him, not realizing how close the two of you had physically gotten throughout the movie. Looking up at him, your face was inches away from his. His face was almost enveloped by the darkness of your apartment. You heard his breathing get heavier.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “you should.”

He didn’t get up though.

You heard his staggered breath as you kept looking in his eyes. The end credits had long been over by now. Your own breath was just as shaky and you heard your heart beat out of your chest.

He started leaning in. Slowly.

Your eyes widened. You gulped, your nerves snapped you back to reality all of a sudden. Wasn’t he supposed to be your friend? This wasn’t what friends did… Right?

Clearing your throat, you leaned back shyly.

“You should go. I don’t want the others to notice you’re gone.”

Silence.

“Yeah.” Bang Chan’s lips flattened in a line. Without another word, he stood up and walked towards your door.

You followed him in silence, hoping to at least send him off. Wrapping your arms around your torso, you watched as he put his boots on in the dark. He tied his laces, and with a nod, he opened the door and stepped out.

You were left with a sour taste in your mouth and a cloudiness in your head. Still standing in front of your door, you tried to process what had just happened. However, you couldn’t. All you could think about was the soft curls of his hair, the delicate threads of his eyelashes, and his lips. The dusty rose of his lips. The parting of his lips. Inviting you in.

You were frozen, looking at nothing particularly. The only thing on your mind was Bang Chan.

The door opened.

“Hey, sorry, I forgot my jack-”

His sentence never got a chance to complete itself as you rushed to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. As your lips touched his, you felt a fire ignite in you like nothing you’ve felt before. Your fingers clawed at the nape of his neck, wanting more. Wanting to be closer.

Almost immediately, Bang Chan responded. He was taken by shock at first, but his hands didn’t waste any time to grip your waist. You felt the muscles of his shoulders tighten as he pulled you closer.

He moved you back into your apartment by the waist, lips never leaving your own. You blindly shuffled backwards, only focused on trying to get closer to him. If that was even possible.

You ignored the clunking of his boots against your clean floor, allowing him to guide you to the couch. A whimper left his lips as you used your hand to comb through his hair, pulling it. His soft brown curls were silk against your fingertips.

The back of your legs hit the couch and he turned you around so he could sit on the couch. Your lips finally left his. You gasped for air, trying to steady your deep breaths.

Bang Chan’s breathing was synchronized with yours, his equally as unsteady. He reached his hands out again, grabbing your waist and pulling you on top of him. You were a ragdoll, responding to whatever he wanted to do to you.

With each knee on either side of him, you gripped his jaw and kissed him again. The fire inside of you instantly reignited. It was addicting.

The two of you didn’t dare to separate from each other, only parting to gasp for air every now and then. Even in the dark, you could imagine the plum of his lips and the threads of his eyelashes. This drove the fire in you more.

“What if the boys realize you’re gone?” you breathed out the next time you parted from his lips. They were most likely sleeping, but the thought still worried you.

“Fuck them.” Bang Chan exhaled. Grabbing the back of your neck, he reconnected his lips with yours. You gladly complied.

His sloppy kisses slowly moved from your lips to your jaw, then to your neck, eliciting a soft whimper from your throat. This seemed to only edge him on as kept leaving sloppy kisses against your neck, all the while running his hands up and down your waist.

His cologne surrounded you, keeping you safe. Soon later, the adrenaline left the two of you, leaving only the sound of heavy breathing to fill the room. You brushed your thumb under his eye to which he deeply inhaled.

“Chan?” you said. He was leaving kisses all over your collarbone.

“Hmm?” He didn’t seem to pay much mind to what you were saying.

“It’s half past three. I really think you should get going.” You didn’t want him to leave, but you were almost sure he had another packed schedule for tomorrow.

“Mhmm.” Your words went in one ear and out the other as he made his way up your neck again. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and let out a small moan.

“C’mon, get up. How did you even get here, by the way?” It took everything in you to break away from his touch, but you were starting to get sleepy.

“Taxi.” He said, helping you get up from his lap. He stood up after you, brushing his hand against your waist one last time before making his way over to his jacket.

“You’re allowed to ride a taxi?” You tilted your head, sceptical.

He slipped his jacket on.

“No.” He peppered little kisses on your cheeks. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that now.”

You giggled, pushing him by his shoulders out the door. He played along, pretending to stumble with every step he took back.

“Text me when you get home,” you said, repeating what he said to you on your first day of work.

He nodded in response and winked before turning around to head home. As soon as the door shut, you slapped both hands against your face. Your little act of impulse had spun your head in spirals. You didn’t know whether to feel relieved at the fact that Bang Chan reciprocated your impulsive actions, or to worry that you had not only just kissed your coworker — but also a freaking idol. No one — not Manager Chen, your friends, or even anyone in the general public — could know about this. If they did, both your careers would be screwed.

You doted on this thought as you got ready for bed, only the worst possible outcome came to mind. If either your manager or his manager knew about what happened tonight, you could get fired. Or even blacklisted. You sat in bed, nervously biting your nails.

Your phone buzzed.

Bang Chan: Hey, I got home. Nobody’s awake… ^^

Bang Chan: Don’t think too much, alright? It’s late, go to sleep…

You felt relief reading his text. For some reason, he knew you were overthinking your actions. You decided to listen to his words and go to sleep.

The next day, Sunday, was very uneventful compared to the day before. You texted Bang Chan back when you woke up, but because of his busy schedule, he hadn’t had the time to reply yet.

Yoojin called in when you were eating lunch, asking about your date. You told her the truth, explaining how there would definitely not be a second date with that man. She sounded disappointed and vehemently tried to set you up with another man in her pool. You politely declined, thinking about your restless night with Bang Chan.

You finished some work ahead of time to free up the next week. Since you were invited to work with Manager Chen at the content shooting, you assumed that you could lessen your work stress ahead of time.

The shooting days were allocated for Friday and Saturday, with there being an overnight stay at the mountains. Whilst you didn’t know the arrangements for Stray Kids, you were informed that the production crew booked a small lodge for the team. You were excited to not only see a behind the scenes of a real shoot, but to also possibly form a closer relationship with Manager Chen.

You were thankful that you did some work ahead of time as Monday’s workload was so much lighter than usual. People were still coming to you with their ideas for the project, but with your other work done, you had the time to go through everybody’s ideas.

You didn’t hear from Bang Chan the whole day, which was nothing out of the blue. You remembered him showing his schedule to you once. The amount of things he had to do everyday had your eyes bulging out from their sockets. All of a sudden, you were thankful for your nine-to-five job.

The next couple of days ran the same way as your Monday, with you easily breezing through your workload. Since you had more time during your breaks at work, you took to exploring the part of the building that you could. You admired all the art, the trophies, the awards and memorabilia. Of course, you also spent more time with your new friend Na-eun.

On Thursday, the day before the shoot, you were helping the producers by translating some notes for the script. All was going smoothly, when you got a text.

It was from Bang Chan.

You weren’t going to lie; you were curious as to what he sent you. He was basically silent the whole week so far, and if you were being honest, you missed hearing his voice. And seeing his face. And feeling his hands brush against your waist.

Bang Chan: Come to my recording room… I’ve got something to show you.

Your eyes lit up right away, curious as to what he wanted to show you. Quickly checking the time, you decided to take your lunch break then and there. After all, you didn’t have much work left for the day anyways.

Locking up your computer, you zoomed inconspicuously past all the other cubicles and made your way to the elevators. You weaved through the hallways of his floor, praying that your memory didn’t escape you. It seemed like your memory was on your side today as you found yourself in front of a familiar set of doors. You didn’t bother to knock before going in.

Inside was Bang Chan: feet up on the desk, drinking from his iced coffee, concentrating on his producing software. You smiled. He looked so comfortable, even in an ‘office’.

He had his headset in, and didn’t seem to notice that you had entered. You went up behind him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around, and immediately threw his feet off the desk and stood up upon seeing that it was you. You smirked.

“I should really put a ‘please knock’ sign on the door.” He cursed under his breath. He reached behind you to close the door.

You giggled.

“So, what do you have to show me?” you wondered aloud.

“A new song. Since the filming is tomorrow, the producers put me on a time crunch to finish the song by today.”

So that was why he was so busy, you thought. You didn’t realize how the sudden filming would have impacted his schedule for the month. Especially since it would take up two whole days.

He let you sit in his chair, and hovered over you to press play on the song. His chair smelled like his cologne.

As he was playing the song, your eyes drifted up to see his face. The face — even after only four days — you missed. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent. That, along with his disheveled hair, told you that he truly was dedicated to his work. You imagined him sitting where you were, two in the morning, sipping on his iced americano.

“You like it?” His eyes drifted towards you, resembling a puppy bringing a ball back to its owner.

“It’s amazing. I don’t know how you managed this in just a few days,” you said. And you were sincere too. You couldn’t imagine yourself doing any of this.

“Eh, you know, late nights.” he shrugged. “Wanna see another?”

You nodded, and the two of you began listening to another one of his songs. You listened in silent wonderment.

However, the silence didn’t last long as the two of you soon found yourselves on the couch: hands all over each other, lips the same. You were lying underneath him, his arms resting on either side of you to hold his weight up. Your lips never left his as you ran your hands up and down his defined biceps.

The two of you couldn’t stay away from each other. The sound of the songs that he had put on shuffle filled the room, along with a fleeting sigh of moan every now and then. Bang Chan’s hand had started wandering up your blouse when, all of a sudden, the door opened.

“Hey, I have the lyrics h-” He stopped mid-sentence, eyes wide.

Crap.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids angst #bang chan angst #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction

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nagisa-shiota-worthy-shit · 3 years

Text

Tinder Matches

Karmagisa Week 2021, day 1 prompt: Matching wordcount: 1600

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The fact that Nagisa had a tinder account wasn’t something he really shared with anyone. At the time, he’d created it as a joke, a way of amusing his friend’s stupid suggestion. According to Kayano, it truly could be the solution to his lack of experience in the love life department. Nagisa hadn’t been too sure about that. He was more than aware of the application’s status and, no, he wasn’t really interested in finding people to just have sex with.

Yet, somehow, he still found himself swiping through people on the app one night. He was alone in his room, a little bored, and perhaps even a little too tired after a day’s worth of teaching. None of the people he came across really interested him much, although he had to admit that he’d probably give them a shot if he saw them in real life, just because he wanted to believe in the best in people.

This app, however, gave little to no information on someone’s personality. Then again, some people were very clear about looking for someone rich to provide for them, which Nagisa guessed his teacher’s salary wasn’t exactly right for, and he supposed that also said something about their personality and what they were like in a relationship. Nothing Nagisa really wished to deal with.

After swiping left on complete strangers in fear of one secretly being a stalker, murderer, or just having horrible table manners, he suddenly stopped when a familiar face popped up on his screen. the red hair, the golden eyes, that all too familiar smirk. Nagisa recognized exactly who he was seeing, yet somehow couldn't exactly process the idea. it just didn't seem entirely right.

Someone like Karma wouldn't need to use tinder, right?

He found himself staring at the title picture for a while before he realized he could scroll through and see more. it wasn't like he didn't know what karma looked like... but... he sure was curious about what karma was putting out there.

It didn't appear to be all that special at first. A selfie in a casual outfit, a picture of him at a bar with people Nagisa didn't recognize, a traveling picture, but the last picture was something else. This picture appeared professionally taken, or at the very least it wasn't a selfie and the picture was set up. Karma was posing in it, after all. Posing in a suit, the jacket in his hand, thrown over his shoulder as he glanced at the camera with those devilish eyes. Nagisa was nothing but taken back by it.

He shouldn't be staring, should he? This was his close friend and fellow assassin graduate, the staring was just weird. Yet, somehow, he couldn't look away from the picture and thought back to when he’d first met Karma, so many years ago now. He’d felt the same sense of awe back then. Karma was just so perfect, how couldn’t he. This picture, him as an adult looking like a literal model, was like a visual representation of everything Nagisa used to feel Karma was.

The sudden noise of the train passing near his apartment woke him up from his state. suddenly turning very red, he frantically moved his hands and went to swipe left, except his phone nearly fell out of his hands in the process. He caught it, hands all over the screen and, through his own fingers, he could see Karma being swiped right.

no. no nonono. please go back

Nagisa fumbled with his phone, hoping to undo his actions, but before he could do anything, a message popped up on the screen. He was surprised by it to say the least.

‘you've got a match’

A match. He matched. but that meant... Karma had swiped right on him as well?! why would he- probably as a joke. he probably came across nagisa and thought it was funny, right? Nagisa had to assume that was the truth, although deep in his mind a thought echoed around saying the exact opposite. Maybe he wanted it to not be a joke.

After panicking for a hot minute, his phone made a ping sound, indicating he’d gotten a message. He was too scared to look. Somehow, before even opening the message, he could already sense who it was from. Sure enough, once he finally did gather the courage to check the notification, his fears were proven right. This was the worst situation.

Karma: well well well, didnt take you as the tinder type

He considered ignoring it. What was that called again? Ghosting? Yes, he could ghost Karma. If he didn’t respond to the message, perhaps nothing else unfavourable would be happening. Well, Karma would probably mention it to him the next time they spoke in real life. That would probably be even worse. It wasn’t like he could ignore Karma for the rest of his life. It wasn’t like he wanted to.

Nagisa: i'm not

Karma: yet here you are.

Karma: swiping right on me ;)

The cockiness almost oozed out of the message. Nagisa was left frowning at his phone. The main thought going through his mind was that Karma was probably enjoying this. He was a sadist like that. He was having fun while Nagisa wanted to bury himself as deep underground as possible.

Nagisa: you swiped right first!

Nagisa: mine was an accident

Nagisa: I was surprised to see you on here and my phone dropped

Karma: ah, so you wouldn't swipe right on me :( am I too ugly?

Nagisa felt his face grow hot. He probably shouldn't look at his reflection if he wanted to save himself from the image of his head being a tomato. He didn't think karma was ugly. quite the opposite, actually. Not that he could say that. That would be weird. So, he tried to find some middle ground answer, not calling karma ugly or the opposite of that.

Nagisa: I never said that, I just didn't intend to swipe right on someone i'm already friends with.

There, no way that could be taken wrong. He considered sending an additional message, clarifying just how dropping his phone led to the swiping right, but decided against it. It would sound just a little too defensive.

Karma: well,its nice this gives us a chance to talk again anyways. appears youve been too busy to answrr my texts.

An awkward laugh escaped Nagisa as he looked away from his phone, forgetting Karma couldn't actually see his reaction. There was no reason to avoid eye contact when there was no eye contact to begin with. Still, he shared the sentiment. He kind of had forgotten to keep contact with people lately.

He blamed the new workplace. After finishing his days as a trainee, the new school he worked at was surprisingly more demanding. He always knew being a full time teacher was a lot of work, especially now that there was no one to keep an eye on him and remind him of certain teaching specifics of the school he taught at. Of course, the work was rewarding enough for him to barely think about his loss of contacts. He had a habit of treating those too loosely anyways.

Nagisa: ive just been working

Karma: workaholic

Nagisa: you literally have more work hours than me

Karma: and somehow you still spend as much time working as me.

The conversation went on like that for a bit, them going back and forth at each other. Overall, it wasn't a bad time. Nagisa kind of forgot about the actual use of the app, and the fact that he could just DM Karma on line whenever he wanted to, until Karma managed to bring back the conversation to it.

Karma: you know, usually when people match, they try to meet up for a date

Of course Nagisa was aware that that's what the app was for, it was sort of the reason he’d gotten it as well. However, he didn't think anything would lead anywhere for him, let alone with karma. surely karma wasn't being serious. it would be weird to go on a date with your friend.

and still, Nagisa endulged him, being so stupid as to ask further.

Nagisa: where do people even go on tinder dates?

Karma: anywhere they want to, usually just for drinks, easy way to lead them home a little tipsy afterwards

Nagisa: okay that sounds creepy

Karma: if that's not your style I could always take you out for dinner.

Karma: There's this new sushi restaurant near my place, looks like something you'd love.

somehow, he actually considered it. On any other day, that would sound insane to nagisa. Since when would he consider dating karma? Wait, not dating, going on a date with Karma. There was a difference. Sushi did sound great, and so did Karma's company. He supposed he hadn't really been out like that in a while. date or not.

Karma: i can even pick you up, very romantic

The word hit Nagisa a little hard. Romantic. What would that entail? Would they sit opposite of each other, send cute glances, maybe even hold hands beside the table? He wanted his mind to hate the idea of that, doing those things with his friend, ruining the relationship they already had. But, he also wanted to give in, say yes, and see where things would lead. At the very least, he'd have a fun night with good food.

Nagisa: you have a day in mind?

Karma: how's Saturday?

Nagisa: Saturday's fine

Karma: it's a date!

#KarmagisaWeek21 #Karma Akabane #Nagisa Shiota #assassination classroom #ansatsu kyoushitsu #KaruNagi #karmagisa #fanfiction #fanfic #shipweek #anime #manga

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belliesandburps · 3 years

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Here's a weird ask: how does the cast off MHA and TW react to being in first place in Mario Kart only to get blasted with a blue shell?

I see @twistedtummies2 and I share some anons. :P

Twisted Wonderland

Ace: That dumbass would have the worst luck imaginable. He'd get nailed by the blue shell right when he's doing one of those loops, so he'd go crashing down and have to get scooped up by that passive aggressive cloud-flying dickhead whose name I never knew or cared to know. He'd lose a few places in the race, and before he can eve get started, someone would use the lightning to shrink everybody...aaaaand someone else would blast him off the cliff again because they had the Bullet Bill. By the time he can race again, he's in dead last and also a full lap behind. "...Wha...how...WHEN...?!?! O___o; " would be the only his only befuddled response.

Deuce: He'd snap and get mad at what a cheap shot that was, and how he was so close to victory. Then, he'd apologize, go back to playing and acting like he's not super annoyed that he got screwed so badly.

Cater: He's far too busy taking selfies of him and his pals playing video games to actually...PLAY video games.

Trey: He will be in shock for a moment, but when the person who blasted him smugs at him, he'll retaliate by refusing to bake them any pastries for a week. They won the battle. But Trey just won the war...aaaaand broke their spirit.

Che'Nya: Heeee's too busy driving backwards and smiling to himself to ever get blasted by the blue shell. He tilts his head with confusion at the cloud turtle for constantly telling him to go the other way and mutters, "But I like this way! :3 " and keep on playing incorrectly.

Riddle: That controller is going through the TV.

Leona: He'd say his famous catchphrase. "Tch, pain in my ass..." then he'd lazily toss the controller, get up and leave. I imagine Leona isn't actually THAT fond of video games despite being young. I think he only really likes strategic video games that make him feel smart. And anything that has complete random chance to negate skill like that goddamn blue shell just turns him off.

Ruggie: He'd whine and pout. "Awww, whaaaaaaat?! D8> No fair!!" Then he'd sulk for a while, grumble in annoyance, and keep playing, trying veeeeery hard to inch his way back to the top.

Jack: He'd show a flicker of anger, would pretend that it's just some stupid game, then turn away, grumbling about what a crappy, cheap trick that was and that no real wolf would ever need to use...in fact, I'm pretty sure Jack's the type who never uses items because he doesn't think he needs them.

Azul: He will forget all about winning and focus the entire duration of the game to ensuring whoever got him with the blue shell is dead last. He will not rest until he crushes their dreams...

Jade: He'd just nod passively, resume playing like it's no big deal, then he'd wait to hear the smug "Haaaaa!" from the culprit he's playing with, and make a note to exact revenge slowly and embarrassingly once the game is finished.

Floyd: He will immediately turn to whoever blasted him, have pinprick-sized pupils, aaaaaand the other player will immediately restart the race, and Floyd will beam happily at being able to play more and giggle about how his opponent is really bad this time.

Kalim: He's never been hit by the blue shell. He's too busy getting hit by green shells. And red shells. His OWN red shells...which...isn't supposed to be possible...but he found a way...

Jamil: He'd use his magic to immediately force whoever blasted him to keep driving off a cliff again and again and occasionally act as a roadblock for other racers. Why get mad when you can get "cheat-y?" :P

Vil: He'd just huff dismissively and say that this is why he doesn't stream video games like other online personalities. Too uncouth and mindless like that blue shell and whoever lobbed it.

Rook: He'd be too busy focusing on wiping out other players to actually race. He's the sort who would literally drive backwards just so he can kamikaze with all his green shells at any incoming player he decided is his prey.

Epel: He'll sneer angrily, catch himself, and say it's just a stupid game, and keep playing like it's no big deal...then occasionally glare daggers at whoever blasted him when they weren't looking, and contemplate stealing some of Vil's poisons for later use.

Idia: Idia's such a ""pro gamer"" that he knows the shortcuts in every single track. You can hit him with TWO blue shells, he'll still be ahead by half a lap and have time to spare. He'll just grin that rare cocky fang-filled grin and say, "Ohhhhh nooooo, blue shells, I hope I don't lose my entire lap lead... >:D " Then he'll giggle maniacally...aaaaaand immediately whimper at realizing he just giggled in public, then largely keep to himself for the rest of the race.

Ortho: He'll pout and angrily whine that blue shells are cheap...until he realizes how much better the items are when you're in last place...then stay in last place when he realizes how fun the golden mushrooms and lightning bolts are.

Malleus: ...He's never been first place in any video game he's ever played. He's not very good at any video games, but the fact that he's been invited to play at all already has him in a good mood. Also, whenever he plays in a castle level, he's too busy trying to admire the decor to actually race.

Lilia: He's never been hit by the blue shell because he's never allowed himself to be that far ahead. He intentionally eases up whenever he has a major lead so it's neck-n-neck between himself and second place. And once a blue shell has been launched, he'll slam the brakes so second place takes the lead...aaaaaand promptly takes the shell, so he can carry on freely to victory. :P

Sebek: He'll never play unless Malleus is playing, at which point, his only priority is supporting his young master, who is...not gonna be in first place. Instead, he'll stay by Malleus' side the whole time, and be horrified when he accidentally blasts Malleus off the road when he gets green shells and stays too close to his master.

Silver: He fell asleep two laps ago.

My Hero Academia

Midoriya: He'll grit his teeth and just try harder to claw his way back to victory. Can't keep a cinnamon bun down after all.

Bakugou: One angry shout later, and the entire room will explode...

Todoroki: He'll blink with surprise, look around in deadpanned confusion and simply ask, "...Did I win? : | "/

Kirishima: He'll whine and frown, muttering, "Awwwww, blue shell?! That's not manly at all... >:( " Then huff but nonetheless keep on playing through. Also, he'll be screwed if he ever gets the blue shell because he actively refuses to ever use it because he doesn't think it's fair.

Iida: Blue shell him once and he's effectively lost the game. He will immediately jump to his feet, stomp over to whoever blasted him, chops his hands in the air like a robot and proceed to go on a massive tirade about how true heroes should never rely on such unfair trickery...until someone points out that anything goes in Mario Kart, and if it you were a skilled enough player, you could overcome such an unfair disadvantage. At which point, Iida will freeze, hunch over and mull over to himself for a solid ten minutes about what an excellent tool the blue shell is to actively push players to be better, to overcome the odds. Then he'll immediately bow repeatedly and apologize for blowing up, praising the blue shell as the ultimate teaching moment in a video game...not realizing no one is even playing anymore...

Uraraka: She'd go wide-eyed, turn to whoever blasted her, pout and shout, "You did that on purpose, you traitor...! >:{ " Then, she'd try and latch a ride onto the cloud turtle to see if her character has zero gravity powers as well. :P

Momo: She'd never get hit with the blue shell because she's learning how to drive, and is trying to be responsible behind the wheel...meaning she's driving veeeeery slow and avoiding all the collisions everyone else is facing. So even if she's dead last, she'll say, "Well, I may be last, but I'm also unscathed. So I do believe that makes me the REAL winner in this silly game."

Kaminari: "Awwwwww, wwwwwhaaaaaaaaaat....?! <8'{ " He'd just turn to whoever blasted him with this adorably pathetic look of absolute betrayal on his face.

Mina: She'll complain about what a cheap shot that was, then get over it in a second, grinning as she tries to get payback with red shells and banana peels.

Tsu: She'd stare blankly, ribbit, and resume playing, expression unchanged while she deadpan says, "...You suck. : | " while continuing onward.

Tokoyami: He'd mumble that this never would've happened if any of the players knew how to fly, then remark that whoever blasted him must have been pretty desperate if they couldn't best him otherwise.

Ayoma: Heeeee's far too busy admiring himself in the slightest reflection he can see on the screen to actually play the game...

Mirio: "Awwwwwww, looks like I lost, guys! :D " Would literally be his response and his expression...without realizing the game isn't even over yet.

Tamaki: He'd sigh a breath of relief, saying it's so much better not having to be first because now, that's a load of pressure off of his mind...then complain that he's hungry and ask if he can go home yet. :P

Mineta: ...He was too busy perving out over Daisy to actually play, and then Tsu wrapped him up in her tongue and flung him out a window.

#ask belliesandburps #twisted wonderland #my hero academia #bnha #tw #mario kart #blue shell #this really was an odd question #but actually pretty fun to think up answers for!#in the future i'll stick to fewer characters #this took a while 'XD

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spectral-apparitions · 3 years

Text

Imagine: Aquarium Date with Your F/O

I started talking about aquarium dates in a discord chat and ended up really going off, so here’s those ideas rewritten to be more coherent!

Your f/o will point out fish or other creatures and say "that's you." Could be because it's a fish you said you like before, a fish that they think looks like you/your personality, that fish is acting like you, or it's a joke and they're pointing out the weirdest thing in the tank

Taking pictures of the fish and taking selfies in front of the tanks! Are you both into it or does one of you think it’s a bit silly to keep moving trying to get a good selfie with the fish in the background? If you’re wanting to take pictures, your f/o is patient and lets you take your time, and they’d love to look back through the photos later. Or maybe they’re the photographer, picking out fish they want to photograph and trying to get good shots.

Do either of you read the little signs with info about the fish? If you've got a nerdy f/o them just getting SO interested in reading about the fish and watching them and you can see their excitement. If they're already a nerd about fish, infodumping to you about the different species, their behavior, how to keep them in a tank, etc

Maybe the two of you try to find every species on the list in the tank, or try to count how many fish are in there.

If you are excited about fish, they love to see it! They think you're very cute when you're excited and they're so happy to see you like that. Even if they don't much care for aquariums, they’re able to enjoy and appreciate it all because of how happy you are!

And if you know some fish and sea facts, they'd love to listen to you. They’re so impressed by how much you know and they love that you can explain these things to them and make it interesting to learn!

Maybe you're both nerds and you rattle off facts to each other, forgetting to keep your voices down as you get excited talking with each other

Or maybe neither of you know anything about fish but you're reading the info boards to each other and discussing. You're learning about the exhibits together. Do you take time to read everything and learn? Or do you just want to find species names and identify them in the tank? Or maybe you don't care and just want to watch the lovely creatures next to each other

The lighting:

Freshwater exhibits are usually well lit, but sea exhibits tend to be dimmer. Especially when you get into deep sea and sea floor exhibits. Usually the area you walk in is dimly lit so the fish aren't disturbed and so the tanks can look brighter/easier to see, and like the light is usually blue, sometimes either the light fixtures or where light comes through the tanks make water patterns in the room

So just. Imagine how your f/o looks in that. With soft lights and shadows rolling over them. Maybe you look over at them as they're looking at the fish and you can take in their expression. Are they excited, mouth opening in gasps and smiles, eyes wide and shining? Or maybe they're a quiet interested, soft face and eyes intently following the movements of fish.

If they've got any part of them that glows, seeing that soft light of their own in the dim light. How it looks against all the blue, how no matter what fish and people are around you, they stand out. Do they glow enough that some fish come over to check them out?

Or if they're got any metal parts the way the light reflects on them. It's different from how bright lights bounce off of them.

And also, your f/o looking at you in that light. And thinking you're so beautiful. Maybe you catch them staring. Maybe they tell you how nice you look- all these vibrant fish and you're still the most eye-catching thing to them. Maybe they give you a kiss because they can't help themself

If there are any playful animals like dolphins or octupi (or even some fish you wouldn't think of!) that come up to the glass and try to interact, do you or your f/o interact with them? Wouldn't they be cute waving at an animal that came up to them and talking to it

Aquariums are usually chilly (in my experience anyways) so having extra reason to hold hands or lean into each other

Petting pools!

Stingrays, small sharks, horseshoe crabs...Do you want to pet them? Does your f/o want to pet them? Maybe someone touching them for the first time and getting excited that they get to pet the animal. Or having touched them before and being excited to get to do it again. Or! Someone having not pet them before and is nervous, the other calmer one gently guiding their hand out to and on the animal

Does your f/o love petting the animals and wants to stay just a little longer or are they ready to move on to the next exhibit? Would they try to flick water at you when they get their hand out of the tank?

Do either of you make fish puns relentlessly

If you have an f/o who hasn't been exposed to much sea life (being reclusive, from another planet/dimension, etc) how do they react to everything? Do they think it's cool? Weird? Are they in awe or maybe scared?

What if we...kissed in [exhibit]? Haha jk...unless? Do either of you want to kiss or take pictures at any specific exhibit? Are there any creatures you’re hoping to take a selfie with? Any exhibits you don't have plans for but just really want to go see?

Does your f/o pull you around excitedly to their favorite (or all) exhibits? Or maybe you're leading them around. Do they want to take their time at each one, or spend more time just at their favorites? Or maybe there's no plan and you just roam around to different exhibits as you find them

If you sit on a bench, watching the fish and being with your love might get one of you so calm they doze off, even more likely in a chilly or dark exhibit. If that’s you, your f/o lets you doze for a few minutes, pleased that you’re so content and happy to be there with you.

On topics of gifts, are they more the type to give you something to remind you of something specific? Like getting you a plush of your favorite animal, or getting you a plush or model of the one that you both poked fun at. Or something more like a trinket, like a pressed penny or a magnet with the aquarium on it? Do they buy anything for themselves or do they just care about getting something for you?

And would you buy anything for them? Whatever you get they'd surely be happy with, because it's from you and anytime they look at it they can think about spending the day with you

You may be tired when the visit is over, but your f/o is just so glad that they got to spend time with you, and hope you enjoyed your time too. They’ll remember it fondly. <3

#writing #imagines #self ship imagine #f/o imagine #long post #man I haven't been to an aquarium in years and i'm trying to convince my family to visit one for a day when we go to the beach later #this summer #but I'd love to go with my f/os;;;#There are so many fun things about aquariums and I tried to touch on as much as I could!

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vaultgirl2077 · 4 years

Note

Hi I follow u on insta too! Don't take this the wrong way but it's important to inform u so u don't offend anyone further. Not sure if it's makeup or editing but u should never darken ur skin for cosplay even of your Freya! The art you have of her shows her as black. Its offensive to poc and is racist even if u didn't mean it in a bad way. U can take off dark makeup and don't experience negative effects of racism but poc don't get to, a person's skin isn't a costume. I hope u understand. 💞

Wow this message really surprised me and is a first!! But I understand that the intent and message behind this ask is good and the issue is a big problem in cosplay/media and is very important. Despite this being a misunderstanding and not being the case here, I appreciate what you're trying to do/say and i appreciate you ❤ - But I need to make something *VERY* clear from the off- ⭐I did/do not edit my skin to make it darker or wear makeup to create that effect/impression⭐ that is NEVER okay under any circumstances and I would never in my wildest dreams do such a thing.⭐ I am TOTALLY against any type of racial appropriation/white washing or black face and I'm actually kind of shocked that I'm being accused of it.

To start - you don't know my ethnic background, so I can see some confusion in my skin tone from just seeing the odd selfie that I post on IG... I probably look *super* white as I'm pale as fuck 90% of the time and in most lighting as... well...i dont get much sun/time outside and haven't for a few years tbh.

I'm actually of middle eastern descent and have olive toned skin - even if I look very pale in most of my photos (I'm an introvert and with my mental health - I dont really leave my house much, so most of my pictures are taken indoors with artificial lighting too) - my skin tone can still look darker sometimes, depending on various conditions: such as time of year (especially in summer when I don't wear much makeup and try to get a lot more time in nature)... when I take photos in different lighting...and also the colour of my hair/wig combined with these other factors. (which is the case with the one I think you're talking about as its the only cosplay I've done of her where my skin tone could possibly be perceived as darker!)

Also - I grew up in a household where my family are poc. My mother's side of the family have dark skin due to my grandfather's Yemeni and Sudanese background. So I understand and have experienced racism on a very personal level and know the effect one's culture and skin colour can have on the way the world treats them.

The only editing I do on any of my cosplay photos is upping the sharpness/clarity and altering saturation....which with the colour of the warm red hair against my skin, and the fact I do have my standard face makeup on (which i rarely do when I cosplay Freya in particular or for just regular selfies) maybe it gave you the wrong impression/assumption?

I sometimes change my eye color too if the cosplay calls for it, for obvious reasons... and in this particular one, I think I may have removed a fake freckle i didn't like too?? But the point is: never would I ever alter the colour of my skin and I've never been accused of such a thing before, so I don't really know how to properly respond as it never entered my mind as a possibility.

One thing I also want to note as a side thing - Freya is mixed race and that has always been the case - James is white and her mother Catherine was black. I try to make her medium skin tone reflective of that in every depiction I make of her.

Below is the cosplay in question that I posted that I think you're referring too...and below it are two other pictures from the same day (which was a few years ago now) which were done with an old phone camera and didn't have the saturation/clarity/sharpness edits I did on the original.

Same makeup. Same outfit. Same hair. Same day. Same photoshoot. The only difference is me moving to different rooms over the course of the day to find a lighting and pose combo I liked... and yes, the post processing alterations I made to the posted picture that I mentioned...which were applied to the whole photo not my skin...

As you can see in the shot with cooler natural lighting - my makeup is not trying to make my skin darker in any way.

I hope this very lengthy explanation cleared things up, anon ❤

Thank you for spreading awareness of a huge issue ❤

And I am sorry for the lengthy response. I just really don't want to potentially offend anyone with something I did not do and never would ever WANT to do either.

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meepmoopfanfics · 4 years

Text

you don’t get a win unless you’re playing the game: Daveed Diggs x Reader. Chapter 2.

Reminder: this is gonna be a long fic! please be patient :)

You are finally ending an excruciating first week of dance rehearsals.

You’re gearing up finishing Act I finally, your brain feeling completely fried from all of the material given, especially the vocal parts. You were so used to singing the melody line of all the songs and being given the alto part was a challenge in itself, let alone applying singing while doing the choreography. The dancing was second nature but you didn’t realize how much stamina you’d actually need to getting the notes out without sounding breathy, pitchy or exhausted. You did NOT want to embarrass yourself in front of the OBC when it came time to integrate.

You had only worked with the ensemble closely so far and were getting close with Stephanie, the universal dance captain of the show. She had mentioned to you that the principals and ensemble members would be having a little hang out session at her brother’s penthouse apartment downtown after rehearsals ended tonight.

“Brilliant work today everyone. I know it’s been tough. But take the weekend to really review the material and let everything sink in.” Stephanie’s eyes were lit up. The way she was so attentive to detail and every backstory of every movement was so inspiring and eye opening.

You wiped the sweat off of your face as you partner, aka M3, aka George Eaker, aka Cedric, gave you a wink and a thumbs up. You were way too lucky to be matched with Cedric. If you jumped across the stage, somehow you’d trust him to catch you with seconds to spare before landing.

The ensemble cheered together and began to pan out to the house to grab their things and head up to their dressing rooms to get ready for the party.

“Is everyone coming tonight?” Stephanie yelled excitedly.

You heard a cannon of yeses and hell yeahs around the group.

“The wolfpack’s coming too!” That was her nickname for the OBC crew. “It’s gonna be a raaaaaager!” She started gyrating her hips. Everyone erupted with laughter.

“A safe one at that, of course. Be on your best behavior around Lin… just kidding he’s an absolute child.

Alright now go, get out. Go get hot.”

You followed the ensemble up the stairs backstage to end up at your dressing room which you shared with W4, Michelle.

“Girl... what’re ya wearing tonight? I can’t decide.” Michelle asked while anxiously rummaging through her back full of scribbled on legal pads, muscle rollers, and random items of clothing.

You had packed your favorite black jeans that made your legs look flawless, your signature suede boots, and a Kith hoodie. You wanted to look put together but also casual and cool. Most importantly, you wanted to impress all of your idols. This was your only chance to give them the best first impression of you.

You thought about grabbing your Oakland sweatshirt that your parents got you as a gag gift for Christmas, in honor of your celebrity crush’s hometown. You immediately regretted even thinking of wearing it, as Daveed would definitely find it way too weird. You were from Massachusetts... not California. The Bay Area would be embarrassed for you.

“I just brought these little guys. All black, of course. Feel like it does the job. Also, the sweatshirt will let me eat alllllll of the pizza guilt free.”

Michelle stared longingly at your suede boots. “These are fuckin fancy!”

“They’re only Steve Madden!!” You were proud of your ability to find luxury looking goods for a cheap price. You don’t think that will ever change, even when you saw your first broadway check hit your checking account.

You were happy you could share a safe and fun dressing room space with Michelle and knew the two of you would become close friends.

You both ran into the shower room across the hallway, and quickly washed off. You decided you were going to straighten your long light brown hair. You loved your hair, but it got so curly and tangled when you sweat. Thankfully they were going to put you in a wig for the show instead of using your natural locks. Being a head sweat-er was the worst. Your makeup was minimal, as you looked best with a nice dewy makeup glow, with highlighted cheekbones. You wore a nude matte lipstick, which matched the natural color of your lips, and lightly liquid lined a cat eye over your big (insert eye color) eyes.

You saw your reflection. You didn’t know if it was the confidence of finally reaching your goal or if you just were having a good hair/makeup day... but you were stunning.

“Damn mama!” Michelle gasped as she saw your finished look. “Whose mans are you about to steal at this gig? Better not be Cedric, he’s mine.”

You laughed. You couldn’t help to think about who you already had your heart set on.

“Definitely not Cedric.”

Michelle opened her iPhone 11 plus and immediately opted for a mirror selfie. She quickly opened Instagram and posted it to her story.

You opened the app yourself to go check if it looked good.

Posted 32 secs ago

#MamaHam and #TheBullet hit the town 🎉

“Ready?” Michelle asked, putting the final touches of her gold Fenty highlight on her cheeks. “We should grab a quick bite before hitting the place. I plan on drinking my weight in Truly seltzers tonight.”

“Let’s get it.” You smiled. “I’ll call the uber.”

——

You called the uber, hopped in, and began driving downtown. You felt your anxiety creeping up on you.

“Trulys? Really? I’m gonna need to be doing shots of Jager in order to be able to speak a single word to any of these principals.”

“What are you... nervous? You already got the role. You’re equals with these guys.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“Guess I’ll just have to act as chill as possible. That’s the plan anyways... also Michelle, wanna know something ridiculous?”

“What?”

“I’ve had a middle school full fledged crush on Daveed since I can remember.”

She blurted out with laughter.

“Well girl he is on the market now. Shoot ya shot.”

You already knew this. Daveed was recently single and focusing on rebuilding himself up. His breakup with his last girlfriend wasn’t bad. It was mature and mutual. You knew he was taking time to himself, so you didn’t want to be overbearingly flirtatious when you first met him.

You also couldn’t stop thinking about your ex, whom you left last year around this time. His goals just weren’t lining up with your future. He hated musicals, he hated almost everything you liked... but you couldn’t stand the fact you shattered his heart.

“I’ll see what happens... after 5 shots.” You responded, winking at Michelle.

You arrived at the cutest little Italian place downtown in TriBeCa. You knew carbs and wine were the perfect pregame for this shindig.

After loads of pasta and splitting a bottle of wine, you began to feel the confidence needed to shake the nerves from you. You hit the bathroom to give yourself a double check before walking to your final destination.

—

As you walked up to the massive high rise residence, you couldn’t believe this was your lifestyle now. As you approached, you noticed an extremely familiar face exit the revolving door.

Holy shit, that’s Rafa.

Rafael Casal. Daveed Diggs’ best friend.

You stopped in your tracks stunned.

He turned his head immediately in your and Michelle’s direction.

“Y/N?! What’s going on?!”

“Shut up shut up shut up...” you whispered through your teeth. “Just keep walking.”

As he passed you both, he smiled, and turned into the Duane Reade on the corner. Probably picking up something he forgot.

You realized you would be on edge all night not being able to keep your cool. Rafa wasn’t even in the damn OBC and here you were, freaking out entirely on the freaking sidewalk.

Through the doors you went, passing the crystal clear marble floors, giant chandeliers, and up to the doorman.

“Can I help you beautiful ladies?”

Michelle blushed. The doorman was actually attractive.

“We’re here for Klemons? Penthouse 2?”

“Oh yeah! Hamilton!!! Love that show. Have fun!”

You hit the elevator as you looked down at your phone.

9:18pm

Perfect timing. Almost 20 mins late. Fashionably late, of course.

“Oh shit shit shit.”

You realized you haven’t changed your wallpaper from Daveed grabbing his crotch.

Michelle laughed as you fumbled to change your wallpaper to a pic of you and your family from when you were younger. Perfect. A conversation starter. Your overthinking was killing you softly.

Your teeth were legit chattering. You felt anxiety waves rush through your nervous system. The pit in your stomach grew. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. This was it. Your chance at something greater than you ever thought was possible to achieve.

The elevator doors opened to the open concept apartment. Voices were clashing over the blaring hip hop music in the dimly lit room. A full bar in the corner, Joe’s pizza scattered over the island in the kitchen. Beer pong set up on the dining room table.

There they were. Every single one of em. Scattered across the flat. Starstruck wasn’t even the beginning of what you felt.

Your eyes scanned quickly around.

There he was. Curly headed locks and all. Leaning up against the floor to ceiling windows that circled the place, holding a cocktail in his strong, large right hand accessorized with a few rings. Simply staring at the sights of the city. He looked like a million bucks and he was in a simple casual outfit. Light washed jeans, black boots, with his left hand in his black hoodie pocket.

Wait. You guys were wearing the same hoodie.

The same fucking hoodie.

Of course this would happen.

tag list:

@alexander-hamilhoe

#daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs #daveed x reader #fanfic #Alexander-hamilhoe

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caramarafics · 4 years

Text

Reckless (Seth Rollins)

Seth Rollins x OC Maya Grey One Shot

Warnings: just sad.

A/N: Soooo.... this has been in my drafts for awhile now and after some positive motivation from @royallyprincesslilly @thedeboniardevistation and @bigstrongblackheart I’ve just decided to post it.

Hope you like it.

AUGUST 23, 2015 11:27 PM

MANHATTAN, NY

DING!

The elevator comes to a halt upon the arrival of yet another floor. A robotic, yet feminine voice came over the speaker to announce:

“You have arrived at the twenty-third floor.”

The metal doors slowly open to reveal a black and gray hallway with artwork of abstract watercolor paintings hanging on the walls. Standing towards the back of the car, leaning against the safety bar, I watch as my aunt Isobel steps off the elevator. Placing one hand in front of the elevator door so it wouldn’t close she scans the hallway, looking left and then to the right, all to make sure that there was no one around.

After a few minutes, she finally turned her gaze back into the elevator towards me. A small, loving smile softly forms and she extends a hand.

“Come on cariña,” she whispers.

I nod my head and, with a heavy sigh and a push off the safety bar, I throw the thick strap of my Diva’s Championship over one shoulder and my gym over the other. I step off the elevator and into the waiting arms of my aunt and we begin our walk down the hall.

Isobel puts one hand on the swell of my back while the other pulls her suitcase. My gaze fell to the floor as we walked, focusing on the hotel’s unusual carpet pattern while she scanned the placards on the wall looking for our room. Every so often I could feel her eyes practically burning a hole into me before quickly turning away to look back up at the placards.

She was worried. She had every right to be. Since leaving the Barclay Center over an hour ago I had barely said a single word. Not to her, to Roman, no one. I was catatonic and numb.

But who could blame me? After what just happened, anyone would react the exact same way if they were in my shoes.

As we made our way down the hall, I could feel my phone consistent buzzing through the thin fabric of Roman’s hoodie he had lent me back in Brooklyn. Slow at first, but quickly becoming more often with every unanswered second passing by.

Call me crazy, but it almost felt like with every step I took, my phone would go off.

Step.

Buzz.

Step.

Buzz.

Step, step.

Buzz, buzz.

Step, step, step.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

Normally I would have answered it by now. But instead, I choose to ignore whoever it was and kept on.

We reached the very end of the hall and finally stopped in front of a door marked 1127. From the corner of my eye, Isobel pulls out a key card from the pocket of her jeans and slide it into the automated lock. A few short whirring, buzzing sounds later, a green light flashes and a loud *click* signals the door had unlocked. She turns the handle, pushes the door open, and then moves to the side to usher me into the room. She follows right behind me, but not before grabbing the “Do Not Disturb” sign from behind the door and hooks it on the handle outside the room.

The door shuts and Isobel sees a small touchscreen wall panel placed by the door. She presses the button marked Lights and the overhead lights come on, revealing the room to us.

Placing my title belt on the dresser, I look around at what would be my new home for the next two nights. For the most part, the room looked like every other hotel room I’d stayed in while on the road. Granted, this was probably the most luxurious of most of them, but still pretty standard.

There were two Queen beds each donning a fancy purple duvet with no less than eight of the fluffiest pillows I have ever seen in my life, a giant flat screen TV mounted above a black dresser, cashmere floor rugs draped across cherry hardwood floors, a cozy little reading area near the windows with a small leather loveseat, and a wet bar fully stocked with overpriced snacks and tiny bottles of alcohol.

The only thing that did make the room stand out from all the others, however, was the incredible view. A floor-to-ceiling window panel was centered on the main wall of the room and, because of our floor being leveled with the New York skyline, displayed a near perfect image of downtown Manhattan. There was even a clear view of the Empire State building in the background, lit up in red and blue lights as night blanketed the city.

Moving over towards the beds I toss my gym bag onto the one closest to the window and sit at the foot of the bed, looking out the window. Looking out at the city I couldn’t help but think about how different my life was less than 24 hours ago. I was staying in Brooklyn with the rest of the WWE, getting ready for SummerSlam. I was in this beautiful hotel suite that overlooked the Brooklyn Bridge with the love of my life, my fiancé. My bridesmaids and I had had our final fittings for our dresses, I was getting all the final details ready for my October wedding…

But that was all before a few hours ago.

Before everything had gone to complete and utter shit.

How could this have happened? How could he do that to me? I thought to myself.

But before I could think of some sort of explanation, the sound of boots clanking across the hardwood floor followed by the thud of Isobel’s purse landing on top of the dresser next to my title.

“Well,” she says with a satisfied sigh, “this is nice. Really nice as a matter of fact, especially with it being super last minute.”

I bring my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around them and placing my chin on top, never once looking away from the window. “It’s fine, I guess.” I manage to mumble out.

“Fine?” she snorts, “Maya, come on! Look at what we got. Gorgeous view, fancy sheets, free Wi-Fi, a fully stocked bar...”

I hear movement from behind me and see a light flick on through the window’s reflection. “Oh my-, Maya you’ve gotta see this bathroom! It’s got a huge shower and…” she pauses, “Oh. My. God. The floors are heated. Cariña the floors are heated!!”

But I don’t move. I don’t spring up from the bed to revel in her excitement over heated floors or whatever other fancy details the room had to offer. Instead, I just sit there in silence, holding myself as I gaze out into the city and its nightlife.

I observe the streetlights perched on the sidewalk creating an ominous glow on the pavement. The mixture of city cars and yellow taxis, halted by ongoing traffic as they struggle to reach their destination on time. The small groups of tourists stopping every few minutes for selfies with various buildings in the background, including this very hotel.

All the while my mind replays the events from earlier. A single tear manages to escape from my eyes as my subconscious began to torture me with a play-by-play of what happened. It all still felt like a dream to me, a sick twisted nightmare that no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t wake up from. My brain searched and scanned through every single memory collected from the last three years of our life together.

It was desperate to find any little detail that I may have missed that could explain just where everything went wrong. Something that could’ve prepared me for what would eventually happen.

But I find nothing.

No hints, no little clues.

No hidden messages or blaring warning signs.

Nothing that screamed out: “Maya don’t be alarmed, but just two months before you’re supposed to get married… you’re gonna find your fiancé half naked with another woman.”

Boy that would’ve been a great fucking warning now, wouldn’t it?

I was so lost in thought that I didn’t feel the bed dip or that Isobel was now sitting right behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin when her hand found its way into my hair, softly playing with it and twirling the ends around her fingers. Another arm wrapped itself around my stomach to embrace me. My body quickly relaxes and I lean into her embrace, my head resting just above her chin. The hand that was in my hair moves to join the one around my stomach and I feel Isobel’s lips plant a soft, motherly kiss at the base of my temple as she gently rocked me.

I knew just how much it pained Isobel to see me like this; a deflated, catatonic alien that had replaced her bubbly and vivacious niece. I’d barely said less than two sentences to her or to anyone else since we left the Barclays, just a few grunts here and there whenever somebody asked me anything. She probably had dozens of questions she wanted to ask right now; ‘are we canceling the wedding, where are you gonna stay, who does she need to call, what I actually wanted to do now,’ things of that nature.

But rather than bombard me with things that even I had no earthly clue how to answer, she said nothing and just held me.

Though she was my aunt and nearly seven years older than me, I often viewed her as the big sister I never had and the mother figure I had so desperately yearned for. She was my protector from bullies like Angela Ferrell in sixth grade after I had come home crying one too many times for her liking. Isobel pushed Angela face-first into the mud and threatened to shave her bald if she ever messed with me again.

When I reached the preteen stage and my body began to develop, she was the one who explained to me the so-called ‘joys’ of becoming a woman and who took me to the pharmacy to buy my first box of pads. She also, in a very detailed description, broke down the basics of sex and practically scarred me for life.

After Bryan Anderson gave me my first kiss in fifth grade, she was the best friend that I ran to her to spill all the juicy details. And when I was a junior and my first ever boyfriend Joaquin broke my heart for some varsity cheerleader, she picked me up and helped put the pieces back together with junk food and my favorite horror movies… only after we went and egged Joaquin’s truck.

Whether it was something as simple as helping me with my calculus homework, or something big as catching a red-eye flight from London to Houston just to watch me compete in my very last high school gymnastics invitational, there was never a moment in my life that I couldn’t rely on her to be there for me whenever I needed her the most.

And tonight, tonight was one of those moments when I definitely needed her.

We stayed like this in comfortable silence for what seemed like hours, just staring out into the night as she held me close to her. I feel her chin fall gently against my shoulder and her breath tickles at the side of my neck for a few minutes before she finally speaks.

“You feel like talking about it?” her voice just above a whisper.

I say nothing but shake my head.

Her lips press themselves gently against my cheek, hugging me a bit tighter as she does. “Ok, that’s fine. We don’t gotta talk about it tonight.”

“But,” she pauses, “What we should do right now is get some food. Cause I don’t know about you, but I am starving.”

Once again, I am silent. Intentionally I knew what she was trying to do. First, she would pump me with some of my favorite foods, maybe even some top shelf liquor, then after a few of the cheesiest and goriest slasher films she would happen to find on demand and I appeared to be in a neutral state, she would lay on the questions. It’s been her routine since I was 13 and about 80 percent of the time it usually worked. Sadly though, It’s unlikely that this particular problem could be easily fixed with takeout and Freddy Krueger.

She was right though. I hadn’t eaten anything since this morning and just the mention of food made my stomach growl.

“Tell you what... why don’t I order us some food, and while I do that you can take a shower and get cleaned up. ¿Suena bien?”

I thought it over for a little before eventually nodding my head in agreement.

“What do you wanna do; Chinese takeout, get a couple pizzas…?”

I look up, her brown eyes meeting mine. “Can we get both?”

A small laugh escapes her mouth, and she squeezes me again. “We can absolutely do both. I’ll even throw in a couple of those brownie sundaes I saw in that menu. While you shower, I’ll call the boys and see where they are with your stuff.”

I nod once more and with one final squeeze and forehead kiss from her, I remove myself from her embrace and slide off the bed. She follows and moves towards a conveniently placed touch screen panel near the window. I watch her press a button on the panel and, in an instant, large panels start to descend over the window panel, slightly darkening the room and hiding Manhattan away for the rest of the night.

I grab my gym bag from off the bed and make my way inside the en-suite bathroom. Once inside, I shut the door and lock it. Just as she said earlier, this truly was an incredible bathroom. A lot nicer than some I had had before. Apart from the aforementioned heated floors there were marble countertops, super soft Egyptian cotton towels, two complimentary bathrobes with matching slippers, full-size bottles of luxury brand skincare and body products, & to top it all off, a huge glass walk-in steam shower with two large overhead rainfall showerheads and about six square wall panels placed on both the front and back walls.

Setting the bag next to the sink I make my way over to the shower. On the outside wall was yet another touch screen panel solely for controlling the shower. I look it over for a few moments before finding an app that says ‘RAIN’ and press it. Instantly, the overhead panels come alive and water begins to rain down on the inside. I mess around with a few more buttons, adjusting the water temperature and whatnot, before finally moving away so that the water could warm up.

Back at the sink, I started to open my gym bag when I felt my phone once again start the incessant vibrating like before. But this time instead of ignoring it, I pull my phone from my jacket pocket and look at the screen.

The first thing I see is his profile picture followed by his name. It was one of my favorites of us together, taken almost a year ago at a mutual friend's Halloween party. We were dressed up as Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen from Game of Thrones, complete with three ‘dragons’ perched on my shoulders. I was looking at the camera but his eyes were fixed solely on me, a smile stretched across his face as he looked.

I watch the call stop and my home screen reappear with the notification bar.

Over a dozen missed calls and voicemails.

With a sigh I unlock my phone and scroll through the list of missed calls, seeing one name in particular more often than others.

Seth.

Renee.

Roman.

Seth.

Brie.

Nikki.

Seth.

Renee.

Nikki.

Seth.

Roman.

Seth.

Annoyed, I tossed my phone onto the counter, not caring where it landed or if it had smashed. I open my gym bag and go to pull out the set of post-match clothes I always kept handy, so I could change quickly out of my sweaty gear after any of my matches. But when I went to pull them out… nothing. Only my workout clothes from earlier, an extra set of bra and panties, deodorant, and sneakers.

Shit.

I look down at my body, currently covered in the giant hoodie.

Shit, shit, shit.

My suitcase, my clothes, my laptop… all of that is currently on its way from Brooklyn.

I forgot to pack my spare change of clothes.

And as if things couldn’t get any better... I’m still in my ring gear from my match earlier.

My eyes rolled to the back of my hand and my hand runs over my face, an annoyed chuckle escaping as I relish in my own stupidity.

Great. I thought. Just great. Good job there Maya.

Not wasting any more time, I throw off the hoodie and angrily start to undress. Starting from the bottom, I unlace my wrestling boots and set them next to the toilet. I remove my sweatpants and shimmy my way out of the custom wrestling shorts Isobel had made specifically for tonight. The matching top was next to come off and once over my head I let it fall to the floor next to my shorts, leaving me in just my sports bra and underwear.

The gear for tonight was all-white with intricate gold lines patterned along the sides, knees, and chest with four symbols faintly embroidered in white on each side; one was mine, the other Roman’s, then Dean’s, and finally… his.

For months, he’d been throwing the idea around of switching up his ring gear and trying out new colors aside from his usual black attire. And once Isobel had sketched up a white and gold version of his gear, he was beyond ecstatic to showcase it for his Title for Title Match at SummerSlam.

And when she had enough fabric left over from doing his gear she made a second set just for me.

“It’s kind of like your wedding dress,” she said to me. “Just in gear form. Hey, if you want I’ll even attach a veil to your butt and it can be your train.”

I quickly shake the memory from my head and free myself of what was left of my clothing. Grabbing two of the white bath towels placed underneath the sink, I set one on the back of the toilet and hanging the other on the hook placed next to the shower. I grab a bottle of complimentary body wash I open the shower door, and finally step inside.

I stand directly underneath, letting the warm water hit my skin and cascade around me and down my body. The splashing against the tile echoed off the walls but it wasn’t enough to drown out my thoughts as they continued to torture me. Every kiss, every touch, every ‘I love you’ we had ever said played on an endless loop in my head as I tried to pinpoint the moment that everything changed.

Meeting for the first time at that college bar back in NXT. That first kiss backstage in NXT that caught us both off-guard. The night he had told me for the first time that he loved me, which was followed up by the night we first made love.

I try to shake these thoughts from my mind, but it won’t work. No matter what I try to think about, no matter what other happy memory that doesn’t involve him, those memories are still all that play. A few stray tears push their way out but I quickly wipe them away.

No, I thought. You are not going to do this Maya. This isn’t happening right now. Stop it!

I reach over to grab the bottle of body wash from the shelf inside the shower...

And that’s when I saw it. The tan line on my finger, now completely visible on my left hand that just a few hours ago bore my beautiful oval cut diamond engagement ring.

The ring that he claimed to have been carrying around in his suitcase for months, hoping to find that right moment that never seemed to come.

Until the night of WrestleMania, just mere seconds after winning his WWE World Heavyweight Championship, he would look over to Joey Mercury and trade him his newly won title for a small black box. He would get down on one knee and take my hand in his. And then, in front of Vince McMahon and everyone else currently occupying the Guerilla, would ask me to spend the rest of my life with him.

Now that hand was bare. The ring was gone, given or rather thrown back to him after what had happened.

And just like that, my world came crumbling down. That false sense of reality I had created since leaving the arena had finally collided with actual reality and smacked me dead in the face.

Seth, my first love, the man I was set to marry in less than two months… had cheated on me. And I had caught him tonight.

Three years of my life, our life together, all gone in a flash. Our plans for the future, children, traveling the world… were all just illusions and fantasies that would never come true.

My legs carried me backward until my back hit the wall of the shower and I slid down. A wave of nausea swirls all around my empty stomach and my chest tightened like someone was stomping on it repeatedly. The first sob that left my mouth was quiet, nothing short of a small childlike whimper as the tears fell. But more and more as reality continued to sink in, they grew louder. The tears flowed more, so much so that I couldn’t tell what were tears and what was just water from the showerhead.

My body sank more and more into the ground that before I knew it I had curled myself into a ball, crying into my chest as the water turned from warm to cold.

But I didn’t care. My head swam with half-formed regrets. My heart felt as if my blood had turned into tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat.

I was emotionally bankrupt. There was nothing left to feel, nothing left to say, nothing left but the void that now enveloped me in swirling blackness.

And it was all because of him.

END.

#seth rollins #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins x reader #reckless #cara writes #cara mara fics #wwe fandom #wwe fic #wwe fanfiction

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alovevigilante · 3 years

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I’m evolving.

I am not into the way I look, so I decide to force the issue, and take selfies and post until I am ok. It doesn’t seem to work that way. I am, mean to myself a lot in that regard.

I opened up the Snapchat app, snapped this shot of me, and left. I was, quick in my choice to be ok with whatever I saw. I was not 💯 sure of what I would find, but it is what it is.

Life is like that, sometimes. The unexpected, happens. So, true story, this year we almost burned down the house due to the use of vintage Christmas lights. We didn’t heed the warnings, and we used them along side our new ones. They melted all the lights together from the voltage from the electric current from the source in the wall. The faulty old lights, melted the new lights with it. These old lights are similar to our outdated harmful beliefs about ourselves, and others. The source of the electricity, in this case, from the wall wasn’t the issue. The issue, was the vintage lights, aka our old, outdated beliefs. The source of energy coming from the wall is symbolic of our personal evolution. If we ignore it, all lights are affected. And it starts, with one faulty light, or belief. Sometimes I feel like an outdated, obsolete, and potentially dangerous, Christmas light.

So, I ALMOST decided to be upset that we used vintage lights and almost burned the house down this Christmas. But it didn’t happen, and it wouldn’t make sense to continue to be upset, so I decided to be appreciative of the fact that we were all safe and alive, along with my home. So I decided to rectify my actions for the future. Safe, led c9 lights. Worth the investment. Safety, is cool. Style is too, but safety takes precedence over style. And my own beliefs about me, are also outdated. Being so concerned about the outside packaging, and how I’m perceived. Unflattering photos of me are the tip of the unhelpful, harmful beliefs underlying within me, iceberg. So that’s where I need to go. All the way deep to the root of the iceberg, all of which lies, inside of me.

I am Kari. I am an outdated set of Christmas lights if I choose to be, or I can replace my string of lights, shine brighter, and evolve for the good of the whole string of lights, which is everyone. Otherwise the entire house, myself included, burns down.

I am, who I am now, and who I decide to be in the future. I am not the unsafe, unkind vintage outdated lights of my past. I am, the same look, with the safe, LED choice. I am, better to myself now. And my life will be a balancing act of style and safety.

Balance is the key. What you are, is your choice. What your packaging is, to a certain degree, is not. If you are feeling upset and stuck, you are like an outdated vintage Christmas light. So what do you do? You can be honest, and make choices that are the best for your packaging in the 3D life you have. You can choose, to upgrade according to your thoughts, your beliefs, and subsequently your actions.

Let’s take the obvious for example. Not everyone’s life looks the same. If you are white Christmas light, you have certain privileges that other Christmas lights, who aren’t white, don’t experience. Somehow it has become more widely accepted. So, if you are a white Christmas light, it is your responsibility to recognize that outdated perception, and counterbalance that privilege with love for the whole of all of humanity until the obsolete perception is changed, and all lights are revered and treated equally. If you are male Christmas light, the same applies. If you happen to be another color Christmas light, cause there are many, you may have experiences I’ve never had, being seen as a white Christmas light in this made up scenario that more people will take to as opposed to being blunt and coming out and saying the obvious. The perspectives are automatically different. The choice, is ours, to be the change. To be the ones, who make it different.

How we move through life is our choice. We can ruminate and react, or, we can deliberately choose to create our lives according to our desires. Our beliefs make all the difference, the love we feel, is the difference between being reactionary or solid and resolute in our choice to live the life we want to see. Reacting is a knee jerk response to life. It doesn’t enable planning. But we still have a choice in every moment, to choose love as our dominant vibration and reality, regardless of the circumstances. No matter what the life circumstances you can plan, to love.

Dr. Martin Luther King jr. did just that. Regardless of his 3D reality, his belief in his dream for the world he wanted to create superseded anything he saw. He spent his life, creating peace, and love, and opposing the fear that had been preestablished by society due to our differences. And he was brought down, because of his choice, to love openly and fully.

The choice is ours now. It’s each individual’s responsibility to choose wisely for the good of the whole, meaning every single person here on planet earth. And whatever that looks like in your 3D life may differ, but whatever it is, bring the love. Bring it. It’s time to clean up our internal monologue, and start to practice to love; first on ourselves, then on one another. The change we will see, according to Mahatma ghandi, will be in the perception and beliefs we hold internally first. Then, our outside world will reflect it. “Be the change you wish to see on the world.” Ghandi understood the plan. The love plan. The plan that all humans are allowed to partake in if they choose to. The love is the most important energy to change the world. Ignore it, and you will be forced into exile by your own lack of evolution.

Fear is not the issue. The lack of choice of the love, is. Focus on bolstering the love, and the world you will experience no matter what you look like on the outside, will be wonderful. The desire to love, is the key to eternal happiness and internal harmony. The love we see, is the love we feel and think. The love we experience, is the love we choose to. So choose it. ❤️🥂🤘 happy 2021. Here’s to the love.

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airi-p4 · 4 years

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Tanabata - Lukagami fic

My first Lukagami fic for the Lukagami July 2020 Day 7: Tanabata

I don’t really ship them but I think they are cute together.

Thanks to @livrever for check and corrections!

Ao3

___________________________________________

7th of July. Tanabata.

According to the legend, the only day of the year the lovers Orihime and Hikoboshi can see each other. A dramatic couple separated for a year until they can meet once again for one day only. And that’s, of course, reason enough for the Japanese people to throw a unique event as a celebration.

Writing wishes on long narrow colourful papers and hang them up on bamboo trees was one of the activities Kagami always looked forward to the most. Growing up with strict parents didn't give her much freedom or fun, but she was glad respecting traditions was one of her family's motto since she could enjoy every year the tanabata festival. And that was the most fun she would get each year: her favorite festival.

The last few years she was in France she had missed it, which made her a little sad - even if she still wrote her wish and hung it up next to her window every year, there was no festival, no fireworks, not the traditional Japanese event fun she loved.

But this year was different. She was in Japan again for Tanabata, and she was going to enjoy the fun of the festival at its fullest. Her whole set had been ready since the previous day to be used at the afternoon: yukata, obi (sash), geta (sandals), inner yukata, hair pin and accessories, cloth bag matching the yukata, money and her smartphone (to take photos). She was anxious for the time to pass faster so she could get ready and go enjoy the fun.

Every 5 minutes she kept checking for the time, even while she was practicing either kendo or archery.

"Kagami. What do you think you are doing? Take it seriously, don't keep disappointing me any farther. Focus" Tomoe Tsurugi was seated behind her daughter, supervising her training.

"Yes, mother" Kagami answered, but inside her heart she could only giggle in expectation for the festival.

"You need to focus and lose sight of all your distractions. Remember how your efficiency has decreased lately. That's why we came back to Japan in the first place. Don't waste all your efforts until now for some useless thoughts. Many people have high expectations of you. Don't let your sponsors down"

"Yes, mother" Kagami replied.

She knew her mother was right. She couldn't focus at all in anything she did. Her head had been somewhere else for a while. To be precise, since the day she figured out her love for a certain blue-haired musician. Who was also the same boy that had once been in love with her best friend (and maybe he still was). Luka snuck somehow inside Kagami's heart in a totally unexpected way - he scolded her for going under the rain without the proper equipment and lend her an umbrella. 'What a silly reason to fall in love with someone' she thought, denying her feelings at first, remembering how Marinette had told her how she fell in love with Adrien in a similar way. But the more time the Japanese lady spent with the guitarist, the clearer and stronger her love for him became.

Kagami didn't know what was so good about Luka Couffaine to make her fall in love with him. Kind-hearted, handsome, mature, responsible, talented, quiet… yes, great, but nothing she didn't have on her own. Then why? His patience, maybe? His rebellious looks? The way he cares for his loved ones? Even after 3 months, it still remained a mystery for Kagami. And she loved mysteries. Could it be it? Maybe. She wasn't sure. She was supposedly mysterious herself too.

What was for sure is she was in love with him and, after two months without seeing each other, she missed deeply their time together. Good thing she was going to meet with him again today. On Tanabata. Just like the lovers of the story, the two stars shining on the firmament across the Milky Way. And that made Kagami excitement over the sun, even if her expression remained impassible as always in front of her relatives, her heart was ecstatic.

Their meeting was set at 4pm. He had a concert last night for Jagged Stone’s tour - which her mother didn't let her attend, of course. So today was the only day they could meet. How can it get more romantic than that?

After having lunch, Kagami excused herself to get ready for the festival, hiding the fact she was also going on a date. Or at least she wished it was.

After brushing her teeth, she proceeded to get dressed. It usually takes a lot of time for newbies to put a yukata on, but Kagami was almost a professional when it came to wearing traditional Japanese clothing, and it took her only 5 minutes. After applying some light make-up, brushing her hair and decorating it with her hair accessories, her look for the festival was ready.

She looked glamorous, elegant and beautiful, and she was well aware of it. In front of the mirror, the girl kept posing and practicing how to smile for more than 40 minutes, waiting for the time to go to arrive and thinking of the activities she wanted to try out there -as well as the boy she was meeting in a matter of minutes.

Finally the time arrived and she took her leave.

The festival took place in a shopping district on a city nearby the Tsurugi's residential state. It was decorated with Tanabata themed garlands, flowers, paper lanterns and statues and, of course, decorated bamboo trees. The view was even prettier than the last time she had been there many years ago.

While she was waiting for Luka, Kagami took a paper guide for the event, checking the performances and the shops available, as well as their distribution. She was checking and confirming her plan and route to follow to make it perfectly on time to each one of the performances she was interested to attend.

She was so caught up in thinking she didn't notice someone standing in front of her. After looking the upper part of the guide, she could take a glance at a men's yukata in front of her. Too close for her liking.

"If you plan to try anything funny with me I'll make you regret it" she said, without looking up.

"Not my plan, but I wouldn't dare to, knowing your strength"

Kagami's eyes met Luka's in surprise. He was standing in front of her, pretty close, wearing a dark blue yukata that looked unbelievably good on him. Luka's soft smile reflected on Kagami's face, mimicking it without noticing. Her face was glowing.

"You came early" she said.

"So did you. You look beautiful" responded Luka.

"Thank you. You look great too. I didn't expect you to wear a yukata"

"Yeah, I noticed" he giggled at his own comment, stealing another smile from the Japanese lady. "How have you been?"

"I've been ok. The training got harder since now I take archery classes daily too, but I've been improving. But I miss Paris. And my friends. And you" Kagami looked genuinely lonely, but changed the subject fast enough to not be questioned about it. "How about you? How is the tour going?" She asked.

"Oh, it's amazing. Jagged Stone is really an international star. Wherever he goes gets the tickets sold out in a flash and the audience is totally committed to his performance. Being able to perform with Jagged in front of so many people is such a privilege. I'm very lucky"

"Why do you cut yourself low? I've watched some fancams of your most recent lives and I know you've been performing some of your songs during intermissions. I've seen how the crowd lost it every time. Some of the comments said they liked your performance the most too. You're a star. Be proud"

"Wow, you've been following my tour and performances? Thank you. It makes me very happy" he thanked her sincerely, slightly blushing for her words.

"Shall we go? There's a shamisen live performance in 5 minutes I really want to attend to. This way"

Kagami didn't even wait for Luka's response to start walking, making the boy run some steps to catch her.

"So… you've thought of a plan?" Luka asked her, trying not to lose sight of her.

"Leave it to me" she only said, never stopping walking.

______

Kagami's plan was perfectly timed. The 30 minutes between performances were used to eat and play typically festival food and games: takoyaki, yakisoba, kakigori, crepes, water yo-yo catching, goldfish catching (which sadly had been returned to the owner), cork guns, etc. They took lots of photos in the process -especially Luka took them with Kagami's phone because she wanted a photo of everything. Some selfies together were taken too, mostly from Kagami when Luka wasn't looking. Sometimes he had noticed and posed to the camera to take a front shot together, a wide grin on his face, matching Kagami's.

The activities and performances were very fun and interesting. It was a first for Luka, but the whole atmosphere and Kagami's silent excitement made it extremely enjoyable for him. He was having a lot of fun (way more than he expected). Spending time with a Kagami with such a bright smile on her face was new for him too, and he couldn't help it but be taken over by her enthusiasm.

As the time for fireworks was approaching, Kagami decided it was time to move to the wish writing area, where the bamboo trees were already filled with colorful papers. But just before reaching there, a sign in front of a shop picked Kagami's attention. She stood in front of it checking the prices and the products. Luka stood by her side staring at her and looking at the shop from time to time, unable to read anything of what was written or figure out what kind of products they had to offer. He waited until she decided step in, entering shop after her.

Luka and Kagami were amazed by the shop’s interior. There were many different sets for many different themes - from schools to historical setting, cafeterias, rock stages… even a tennis court setting was available. Luka wondered why Kagami decided to check this shop. But Kagami spoke before he could ask.

"It's a cosplay studio. You can rent a cosplay and take photos in the different settings for the amount of hours you pay for. I'll try to bribe them to let me take the cosplays outside to wear for a while before the fireworks start. Look at which one you want to wear meanwhile. There's a catalog with photos at that counter".

After Kagami's explanation, she started talking to the shop attendant and Luka followed her instructions, checking the costumes available.

The truth is Luka knew nothing about costumes or cosplay. Most of ones on the list were anime or videogames related, like a Pikachu cosplay or high school uniforms. Samurai costumes piqued his attention, but seemed hard to move in. He couldn't decide at all.

"Have you decided yet?" Asked Kagami.

"No, I'm really lost. I have no idea what to choose. Have you decided yet?" He asked

"Of course. I've always wanted to try one on, but it's difficult with my family's strictness. I'm taking this chance. Oh, and I'll decide yours. We can't afford to waste more time than needed. I need to write my wish before the fireworks start" she said, leaving again to speak with the attendant.

Luka was always amazed by Kagami's determination. 'I never hesitate'. That was her motto. One of the reasons he admired her, along with her talent in sports, her delicate manners, her honesty, her beauty, and her rare sincere smile that made him melt in softness. She gave him the calm he could only accomplish with meditation otherwise. A calm sometimes broken by his heart’s beats, every time he was blessed by her affection and curiosity looks for him in her eyes.

He liked her. He liked her very much. Probably even loved her. He realized how important Kagami was for him a few days before she returned to Japan. And it was still surprising for Luka to see how a girl so different from Marinette could captivate his heart in such explosive way: unexpectedly, accurately and fiercely as a storm.

She was the Furinkazan in all its phrases.

Fast as the wind

Silent as the forest

Raiding and plundering as the fire

Immobile as a mountain

The old strategy used to win battles during Japan’s Sengoku Era. A phrase capable to be used in many different fields- even love. Luka was sure it worked on him.

The Japanese girl was strong, stronger than him in all aspects, but that was partially a facade. She was actually fragile on the inside and Luka could tell how hurt she sometimes was by her loneliness every time he stared at the windows to her soul. He usually patted her head or squeezed her hand or her shoulder when he noticed the look and, with doing so, her face immediately regained her shy honest smile, looking genuinely happy. Luka loved that smile, and was more than flattered to be the one it was directed to.

While reorganizing his feelings for her, Luka waited for Kagami's return. And there she was, two minutes later some clothes on her hands.

"Here. Wear this. I'm sure it will look great on you" Kagami said, stretching her hand to give him some clothing.

"Ok" Luka grabbed the costume and scanned it. The clothes given by Kagami consisted in Japanese traditional-looking clothing, white with gold, blue and purple details. Something similar to a Temple apprentice, maybe? He didn't know much about Japanese traditional clothing, but it looked pretty.

"The boys changing room is there. Ask the male attendant if you need help. I'll be in that changing room. Wait for me if you finish earlier than me" said Kagami, while Luka nodded and she moved to enter the changing room with the female attendant.

_____

The clothes chosen by Kagami fitted Luka perfectly. Luka was surprised at how unexpectedly comfortable they were. According to the list, it seemed to be some figure skater cosplay. He knew he looked great on it when the female attendant let out a 'kya' and fangirled a little at him, making him giggle at her exaggerated reaction.

Three minutes later Kagami came out of the changing room. She was wearing a black and red female ninja costume that looked as if it had been made just for her. She looked amazing. Beautiful, yet stronger than ever. Damn, she even threatened to throw him a shuriken (ninja stars) if he didn't start moving out and stop wasting their time. He thought he wouldn't have minded being attacked by her. In truth, Kagami just wanted the boy to stop staring at her since it was becoming embarrassing.

______

As soon as they went out of the shop, they inevitably became the center of all the gazes. A young woman recognized Luka from yesterday's Jagged concert and started to fangirl over him along with her girl friends. Kagami tried to fight to protect Luka, but he dismissed her help and encouraged her to go write her wish instead.

Kagami's eyebrows frowned in anger but left to the bamboo wish writing stand alone. She could see Luka gazing at her from time to time while he gave signatures and selfies to his fans. Kagami couldn't hide her jealousy and anger and was tempted to write as her wish for all Luka's fans to disappear. But looking at him making his dreams come true, his bright smile and energy on his concerts… she knew he couldn't be a star without fans, so she discarded the idea.

When she looked at him in a lonely apologetic look, Luka winked at her, asking for her to wait a minute until the signatures and selfies were finished. She loved him even then, posing at the cameras with a grin on his face surrounded by fangirls. 'How silly' she thought.

Kagami decided to stop looking at him and started to write her wish on the paper -the one she had originally play to write. It was a good thing Luka was occupied, because she didn't want him to see what she had written. Moments after finishing, Luka came back to her.

"Sorry for that. Fans can get crazy sometimes" he apologized. "This outfit didn't help either. Blue hair and Japan's number one figure skater cosplay is a terrific combination to stay out of people's looks. It's obvious I would stand out..." Luka concluded.

"The price of fame. I understand. I'm getting some of those too, sometimes" she smiled reassuringly at him, making him relieved. "I'm happy your dreams are taking form, even if I have to go through that sometimes," she said, squeezing his hand a little while hiding her wish paper from him.

Luka squeezed back at her hand. "Thank you, Kagami. It makes me happy to hear that" said as he smiled.

A few long seconds passed with them still holding hands, eyes closed, Kagami's head on Luka's upper arm and Luka's head on Kagami's, her hair brushing his cheek.

Luka and Kagami never once hid their feelings for each other. They knew there was some kind of attraction and deep affection, but neither ever mentioned it. They just enjoyed each other's company, silently, and tried not to force anything. They liked what they had and didn't want it to change. They meant too much to each other and didn't want to lose it. Or at least they didn't before.

Kagami had changed her mind after these two months they were apart and had committed to the idea to confess her love to him after giving it some thought: she hated the idea of him getting snatched by Marinette or any other girl while she was away. And so, even if she didn't know if her feelings were reciprocated or otherwise, he still had feelings for her best friend, she decided she had to give it a try.

Kagami knew Luka's feelings for Marinette were strong, maybe impossible to ever erase completely, even. But she also knew he was the boy of the second chances, reason enough for her to take the gamble and see if he had one chance left for her, now that Paris superheroes were already retired.

And with this resolve, Kagami had written her wish down to a pink paper, in Japanese. It could be read as: 'Luka-kun no koibito ni naritai. Kagami', which translates as: 'I want to be Luka's lover (girlfriend). (Signed) Kagami'.

Kagami really wanted her wish to come true. And she would know if it could become reality or not in about an hour, around the time the fireworks ended and she had confessed her feelings. She hoped for the two lovers of the legend to make a miracle happen for her. That's why she wanted to tie here wish in the upper-most stem of the bamboo, the closest as possible to the stars and off of Luka's view.

Luka's voices interfered in Kagami's thoughts "Have you written your wish yet?" He smiled at her.

"Yes. It's written. But don't ask me to show you because I won't". She smirked a little.

"Is it that embarrassing? What did you wish for? World peace? To be rich and famous? I don't think you would wish for anything this cliche" he teased her.

"It's my wish and it stays a secret. Too bad your teasing won't work on me" she stuck her tongue at him, teasing back. "Why don't you write yours already?"

"You're right. I'll write one too." Luka grabbed one paper and pen from the table and got ready to write, but Kagami staring at the blank paper, expecting it to be filled, made him unable to move. "Stop looking. Aren't wishes supposed to be secret?"

"Oh, that's not it. They're not supposed to be secret. I just don't want mine to be seen" Kagami said.

"Oh, I see. Let me write it first then, without you peeking. I'll show it to you later. Go over there, meanwhile" he said.

"Ok. But do it fast! I want to read it!" Kagami moved some feet away and started looking up for the tallest bamboo branch.

"Yeah, yeah…"

Luka was giving his back to Kagami as the ink impregnated the paper with the words of his wish. "Done" he said after some minutes. When turning to look at Kagami she was looking up at the bamboo branches. "What are you looking at?"

"This one is the tallest branch. I want to tie my wish at the top of it" she explained.

"Why? And how? It's too tall even for me…" he wondered, looked at her short stature.

"I'll use your help. I'm using your body as a ladder to reach there. The tallest the wish, the most probable for it to come true. That’s only my assumption, anyway"

"That's what am I to you? A ladder? You can't set this on your own, you have to ask first" he scolded her.

"You're my friend. And you care about me. So I know you won't have any inconvenience to help and lift me up to tie the bamboo. Please?"

Luka sighed. "Fine… but remember the correct ordered next time. And be careful"

"Of course! You won't let me fall, I know" she smiles. "But first… let me see your wish!"

Kagami tried to snap Luka's wish paper, but he was fast enough to dodge her and lift up his hand at his maximum level. After some of Kagami's attempts to steal the paper from Luka, the musician stood on his toes to tie it the highest he could. Kagami was still short after the years, so she couldn't reach it.

"So unfair! You promised! Liar!"

"I'll show you if you can catch it. But let's tie up your wish first. Fireworks time is approaching and we still have to return our costumes" Luka's mature voice mentioned.

"Ok. It's that bamboo, the branch on the farthest left. Duck so I can climb over you" Like made a 'tch tch' sound while his index finger moved to right to left and to left to right in repeat, in negation, asking for a missing needed word. Kagami frowned her eyebrows in disgust and finally added said word. "Please..."

Pleased, Luka kneeled down to let Kagami sit on his shoulders and stood up. The girl was lighter than he thought. He secured her ankles with his hands and watched how she stretched her hands to tie the paper at the top of the tree. Luka wondered what her wish would be, but Kagami signaled him to get her down before any idea came to his mind.

As soon as Kagami's feet were back on the floor, she took the advantage of Luka being down to run and jump as high as she could to catch Luka's wish from the bamboo tree. She remembered perfectly the paper. It wasn't difficult for her to reach with the run impulse used to jump

She then turned her body to look at Luka, how was approaching walking towards her. "I've got it! Did you think you had won? Don't underestimate me" she grinned in victory, while Luka just smiled softly at her determination, unaffected from his wish being exposed soon. His reaction made the Japanese girl's curiosity increase, so she started reading the paper.

She was first surprised that the wish was written in Japanese with a messy handwriting, signed in capital letters of the roman alphabet. But the contains of the wish left her stunned, frozen at place, unable to move with her heartbeat intensifying every second. The contents were so unbelievable she re-read those letters one time after another, considering there could be a mistake due to Luka's unfamiliarity with her mother language. But nothing. The contents were perfectly written… .

"So, do you think my wish can become true?"

Luka was standing in front of Kagami, who had been with her head down reading until she had heard his voice. Her face then looked up. She wanted to see his expression. She wanted to see if he was serious or just joking. She needed to know if she should stop her uncontrollable smile to go wider and change it for tears instead. Kagami's face was lighting in love and hope while studying the boy in front of her.

And Luka's face told her everything she wanted to know: he meant every word written on that yellow paper.

"Yes. It can become true now or whenever you want" Kagami happily cried, jumping into Luka's welcoming arms.

"I'm glad…" said Luka, hugging Kagami tightly. "I love you, Kagami. Be my girlfriend?"

"Yes! I love you too. You've just made my wish come true too" she hugged even more tightly to him.

"Don't tell me…?" he asked, surprised.

"Yeah, I've written the same wish. Different words, but same meaning. I wanted to confess after the fireworks. Take a second chance from you. Now I think I can enjoy them at their fullest. I don't need the fright or nervousness to confess anymore"

"There's no way I would reject you, Kagami. You're gorgeous, strong, confident… and you like to lead, while I prefer to be lead. A perfect match, I believe. You mean the world to me"

"Shut up and kiss me"

Luka didn't say anything. He lowered his back and face meet his girlfriend's lips and seal a soft kiss on them. After they broke the kiss, Kagami hugged him again, covering her blushing face, Luka hugging her back.

"Let's return the costumes. The fireworks are starting soon and it seems I have a confession to listen to when they finish" giggled Luka.

"Don't get used to it. You know we Japanese people are very reserved. We expect love to be told with acts, not words" she warned him, seriously.

"I can do that" then he became thoughtful. "Wait. Music counts as an act, right? I'm screwed if it doesn't" he slightly panicked in joke.

"Rest assured, it does. But there's more to be done, so don't let your guard down" she giggled.

Luka took the chance to kiss her again. "I love your smile…" he said, while Kagami, red as ladybug's suit, locked his hand with hers and started walking towards the costume shop, pulling Luka. The musician couldn't stop his grin for forming on his face at her unusual embarrassed reaction.

After returning the costumes, the couple watched the fireworks together, hand in hand, colorful flowers and shapes forming up the sky. It was beautiful and they had the best possible company with them.

They didn't know where that new journey of love would take them, or when they would be able to me again after Tanabata. But they knew they had two lovers watching over them from the Milky Way - the same pair that allowed a miracle to happen during Kagami's favorite Tanabata festival.

The end

#lukagami #lukagami fic #lukagami july 2020 #lukagami july #my fic #my art #airipyon #airip4

36 notes · View notes

dylshoney · 5 years

Text

when you’re ready

requests: maybe a shawn fic based on “when you’re ready” but you’re not the girl he sung about? and the girl shows up 10 years later and tries to get him back and you guys have been together for like 3 years and it just causes insecurities ?? does this make sense?? (love your work btw❤️)

Hellurrr! I have a request, if you will? TW Anxiety Attack Like if the female!reader has an anxiety attack because she thinks she's not good enough so Shawn helps her and holds her?

a/n: this was my first time trying to write angst (cause im usually an optimistic ass bitch) so if its bad just lie and scroll post ahahaha but i wanted to try and @superiorsoph sent this request in and i couldnt resist. im sorry i didnt follow it exactly, but i hope you like it love.

warnings: language, angst

“Stay still!”

You hear him say for the umpteenth time, but you pretend not to hear him, twirling around in the dress, laughing and shaking your hips.

He makes noises of disgruntlement and soon you hear the shutter of his camera go off, the flash blinding you for a few seconds, but you don’t care. You glide over to the full-length mirror on one side of the store and smile at your reflection. He was right, the dress is gorgeous.

You push down the fabric, loving the smoothness under your fingers and twirl once more. You can see Shawn roll his eyes in the reflection, but you can see the hint of a smile threatening to peak through. He places his camera back in the casing and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, leaning down to press his head on your shoulder.

You’re both silent for a moment, just staring at the pair of you in the mirror. You hum, your head falling back into him, “I think we found the one.”

“I told you I’d be useful,” he tuts, pinching your hip. You flinch, turning around to smack his chest, “You only just started being useful. The past hour has been torture.”

He’s laughing, the beautiful crinkles on his face making your heart melt but you love teasing him, so you can’t give in just yet, “Trying on twenty dresses definitely wasn’t necessary.”

“No.” He agrees, smiling down at you with a shit- eating grin. “But we had to test all out options, didn’t we?”

You shake your head, turning back around to see yourself in the reflection, triple-checking that this was the right choice.

“You have to delete those photos, you know?”

“No!” He sounds almost offended. “Those are memories, there’s no way I’m getting rid of that.”

“But I look horrid,” you pout, blinking innocently.

“Don’t give me that face,” he shakes his head, “They’re all blurry anyway.”

You grin victoriously, winking at him, “The music in here is just too good – I couldn’t resist.”

He pauses for a moment, raising his finger to the ceiling, eyebrows raised. You focus on the sound of #Selfie by the Chainsmokers, your ears getting hot as you begin to nod slowly, “It has a nice rhythm?”

He shakes his head, but you’re already dancing again – thankful that there was no one else in the store on an early Wednesday morning.

“If you dance like that tonight, I’m going to pretend I don’t know you.”

You ignore him, taking his large hand into yours and spinning into him, his laughter getting louder as the two of you stumble around together.

The music changes to Troye Sivan’s Dance to This and you squeal a bit, getting overly excited as the two of your start shouting the lyrics at the top of your lungs. You can see the nice sales associate trying to contain her giggles as she pretends not to watch you, but you don’t care.

You’re watching Shawn. Your eyes never leaving him as he throws his head back, laughing as you mess up the lyrics. His hands pull you into him, your chest hitting his as you begin doing some sort of heightened version of a slow dance. His hands are warm against you, sending a current of energy through your body.

You’ve never smiled wider in your life, your heart clenching as he places a kiss on your forehead and you can’t believe that you’re still so in love with him after two years of being together. It’s never stopped being butterflies and sweaty palms with him – you’re body reacting to his touch like it was the first time.

Everyone around you recognized that as well, even the sales associate as she checked out the dress a few minutes later. You two are adorable, how long have you been engaged?

Shawn had squeezed your hand extra hard as the two of you tried to contain your giggles, explaining to her that the ring on your finger was a promise one. But Shawn made sure to add that he was hoping to fulfill that promise soon.

You felt like you were on cloud nine, leaving the store with a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You knew that Shawn was it for you, never once doubting that he was the person you were going to marry.

You just didn’t expect that maybe; you weren’t it for him too.

Later that night you found yourself at yet another event with Shawn, wearing the pretty red dress and smiling widely as people approached you.

You were happy to find that you could easily recognize and talk to many people, a stark comparison to how you were when you had just started going out with Shawn. You were more confident now, excepting that you belonged next to Shawn, that if you stood up straight and acted like you were meant to be there – people would believe it too.

You were sipping a Shirley temple, bopping your head lightly to the beat of the song radiating through the room, talking to Lina – the daughter of a famous record producer. She was probably your closest friend related to the industry, but she was usually too busy to attend these kind of parties – so you were taking in every second you could get with her.

“Ok look at Marsha,” Lina lifted her chin, motioning to a woman a few meters away from you, “She’s about to go talk to Roger. For the sixth time tonight.”

“No way.” You shook your head, cringing as Marsha started making her way over to the older man again. “He’s said no to her single like a million times already.”

“Have you heard it?”

“No.” You paused, “Wait? Have you?!”

She snorted, “I wish I didn’t.”

“Come one!” You threw your head back, “I would have paid to see your reaction.”

“I can perform some for you, if you’d like?”

You were quick to shake your head, but she was already going.

“If I could fly … I would never leave you dry ….”

“Stop! Please!” You were bent over, holding your stomach as you tried to contain your laughter. She was so off pitch that you were tempted to cover your ears.

“Maybe we could last forever ….”

“I don’t know what sadder,” you heaved, “The song – or the fact that you know it by heart.”

“She made me listen to it six times!”

“That sounds like – ”

“Excuse me.” You turned around at the sound of the voice, feeling a light touch on your shoulder. You were greeted with the sight of a beautiful blonde staring at you with a small smile.

“Hi.” You were quick to return the grin, trying to figure out if you remembered her from somewhere. She looked oddly familiar.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for Shawn?”

You smiled, “I can go get him for you. Give me just a second.”

“Thank you so much!”

You found Shawn in the back, talking to someone you recognized to be very important, but his eyes lit up and he was on his feet the second he saw you.

“Hey angel, everything okay?”

“Hey,” you nodded as he wrapped a hand around your waist pulling you to the side, “There’s someone looking for you.”

You took his hand in yours, leading him through the mass of bodies in the space, over to where Lina and the stranger were waiting.

“Hey!” Your tone was light as you called out to her, “Found him!”

She turned around, an expectant look on her face before her eyes finally settled on your boyfriend.

“Kate.” Shawn’s voice was laced with shock, a smile gracing his features as he let go of your hand and shot forward to hug her.

You made eye contact with Julia from behind them, her light ones wide and looking at you with something you could only describe as sheer worry. You tilted your head, trying to understand what she was mouthing to you.

“It’s been so long.” You could hear Shawn say as they pulled apart, his tone laced with something you didn’t recognize.

“It has. You look amazing, Shawn.” Now that was something you did recognize.

You placed a hand on Shawn’s back, his eyes wide as he turned back to look at you, almost as if he’d forgotten you were even there.

“Kate,” his eyes were back on her immediately, “This is y/n, my … girlfriend.”

You hated the hesitation in his voice, but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, smiling gently at her, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“So, how do you two know each other?” Julia stepped forward, sipping on her drink as her narrowed eyes trained on Kate.

There was a moment of reluctance, which definitely didn’t help with your unease.

“We go way back.” Shawn finally said, Kate, giggling in response. Your smile faded. So they went way back. That was definitely code for used to date.

You hated the jealously that flooded through you. Your stomach clenching as your boyfriend continued to stare at the girl with an unrecognizable look.

Everyone was silent for a moment, Shawn’s eyes not leaving Kate, something you weren’t too happy about. You were used to being the center of his attention. And you felt selfish the second those thoughts filled your mind.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, the wide grin never leaving his face.

She smiled for a moment until her eyes traveled over to you and the expression faded, “I uh – was hoping we could talk?”

You didn’t like the look she was giving you, and you definitely didn’t like the sound of that. But Shawn was nodding and not even a second later he was turning to you, “I’ll be right back.”

You didn’t respond, he didn’t give you the chance to. He was already walking away, hot on her heels.

“What the actual fuck.”

You didn’t know how to answer. So instead you turned over the bar, immediately ordering four shots, making Lina talk them with you.

You had hoped that the alcohol would ease your nerves, but instead, you found yourself pacing in the bathroom, your head spinning as you tried to explain to Lina what was going on in your mind.

She did her best to try and calm you, easing your mind that it was nothing. Shawn loved you. It didn’t matter that he was slightly tipsy. Alone. And talking to his ex.

You trusted him with everything in you, but you didn’t trust the look in Kate’s eyes. And the look in his.

Shawn came back a half hour later, his eyes bloodshot and begging you to leave with him. You didn’t hesitate to agree, taking his outstretched hand and following him to the car.

You were both silent for a few moments but there was unspoken tension hanging in the air, your hands folded in your lap – trying to figure out how to phrase your words.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” You finally blurted, hating the way his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

Shawn was silent for a few seconds, before he cleared his voice, “Everything’s fine. Kate just wanted to catch up.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. “How long were you together for?”

You could see him tense again, his shoulders tightening, “We weren’t. Almost though.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. She wasn’t ready, I guess.” His tone was clipped; sounding like he had uttered those words millions of times before. You could feel your breath catch in your throat.

She wasn’t ready.

You replayed those words in your head a million times before you could finally utter something else. “When was the last time you saw her?”

Shawn could sense the uneasiness in your voice, the unfamiliar tremble as you tried to calm your breathing.

His hand was quick to take yours, twisting it out of the clasp in your lap and holding it in his tightly, “Baby –”

“I’m just curious – I know there’s nothing to worry about I just –” your voice was higher than normal, Shawn’s hand tightening around yours.

But he was silent. Staring straight ahead at the stoplights. The bright red glow illuminating his impassive features.

“There is nothing to worry about, right?” You found yourself saying.

“Of course not.”

Your heart was in your stomach, and you suddenly felt like there was no room in the car – no air.

“Shawn,” you whispered, “Did something happen?”

He swallowed again, “No.”

You were both silent for the rest of the ride home, Shawn’s hand holding yours – the only thing stopping you from falling apart.

The second the car parked in your driveway, you let go of him and jumped out, not waiting for him to follow – speed walking to the front door. Your hands were shaking as you tried to stick the key into the lock, your blurry eyes making it hard for you to focus.

“Y/n – ”

You could hear Shawn coming up behind you, but the door burst open just in time – saving you from having to look at him, “I – I have to go to the bathroom.”

You could hear him shout something back but you were already sprinting up the stairs and into your shared room, shutting the door behind you and bolting into the bathroom.

You were shaking, pulling your phone out and googling the one thing on your mind since the second you heard it.

The lyrics to Shawn’s When You’re Ready showed up on screen and you tried to calm your breathing, scrolling for a moment before your tears began collecting again and you were sobbing.

You gripped the sink, your breaths choked up as you tried to control your heart rate.

You could feel a tightness expanding through your chest, like a weight that was pulling you down. You were on your knees before you had a chance to blink, your hands wrapped around your dress as you tried to get a grip on yourself.

Moments passed but your breathing wasn’t picking up, you tried to blink away the tears, but they kept flowing as your shallow breaths increased.

You stood; your head spinning at the sudden movement, making you fall back and steady yourself against the sink. A jewelry box slid off at the impact, falling and smashing on the floor.

You flinched back at the noise, your ears registering a muffled yelling from behind your door, but you couldn’t make it out. You didn’t understand any of it, your chest heaved as you fell back onto your knees, sounding like you were chocking on air. Black spots began to cloud your vision, the room starting to spin.

Arms wrapped around you, pulling you back into a hand chest, but your mind was too cloudy to process any of it.

“Breathe – ” you could just make out his words, “You’re having a panic attack.”

“I can’t I –”

Shawn spun you into him, on his knees before you, his hands cupping your cheeks as he placed his forehead on yours. You tried to make out the golden color of his eyes but you couldn’t focus on anything but the tightness in your chest.

“I need you to listen to me, okay?” His thumbs were lightly massaging your jaw, “You’re going to inhale for me on the count of three.”

“1.. 2.. inhale.” You obeyed, your chest filling up with air as you shook in his grasp.

“Now exhale,” he said, his voice shaky, “Now again.”

“Inhale…exhale…inhale….exhale.”

It was working, your mind slowly clearing as you focused on the sound of his voice.

You sighed easily for the first time in a while, your eyes finally opening and meeting his tear-streaked ones.

You pulled away from him immediately, falling back onto your butt as you crawled further away, the cold tile the least of your concerns.

“You – you.” You heaved, trying to catch your breath, “You wrote it about her.”

He tilted his head, looking like a devastated, confused puppy, “Angel I don’t know –”

“When you’re ready! You wrote it about her, didn’t you?”

Shawn blinked, a single tear falling from his eye as he crawled over to you. You flinched, scooting away until your back hit the wall.

“Y/n I –”

“The song was written four months into our relationship.” You sniffled, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your dress, not caring about how much money you had spent this morning. Now, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

“You had said that Teddy wrote most of it. That it was a spur of the moment thing. That none of your songs were based on anyone until you met me.”

He was silent, tears streaking down his cheeks as he tried to catch his breath, “Baby –”

“You were waiting for her. This entire time. Weren’t you?”

“No!” He tried to get closer, but stopped at the expression on your face, “No! I love you, I –”

“Cause ain't n –nobody like you. F- familiar disappointment every single time I do.” You began to recite, your hiccupping sobs making it hard to understand.

“Y/n. Baby, please let me explain – ”

“Every single night my arms are not around you. My mind's still wrapped around you.” You shut your eyes, your entire body shaking as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to figure out how this was happening to you.

“Baby, tell me when you're ready.” You opened at the sound of a choked sob coming from the other side of the room. Shawn was on the floor, his head between his hands as he sobbed, shoulders shaking.

You were silent, trying to stop yourself from rushing over to him and holding him in your arms – something you had grown so accustomed to that now you felt like you were having an out of body experience.

“Do you still love her?”

That wasn’t what you had planned to say, but you needed to hear it. You needed to know if the last two years were a waste, if the ring on your finger had ever meant something to the boy you thought was going to be yours forever.

Shawn was silent, his shoulders slumping as he threw his head back.

“Shawn?” Your voice was sterner than it had been all day.

“I – ” Another wrecked sob flew through him.

You covered your mouth as you felt your chest close up again. Shaking your head, you took a deep breath – you were not about to have another panic attack right now.

You gripped the vanity to your left, using it to pull yourself to your feet. Your mind went hazy from how fast you rose, your head already pounding from how hard you’d been crying.

“She told you she was ready, didn’t she?”

All Shawn could do was nod, his eyes not opening as he placed his head back in his hands – his elbows on his knees as he started crying again.

You threw your head back, urging yourself not to cry – but nothing could stop the whimper from flying out of you, your eyes shutting again.

Everything was silent again. For a few moments, you hoped that he would say something. That he would get to his feet and explain that everything was a misunderstanding – that he would take you in his arms and hold you, telling you that you were the one he loved. The only one he loved.

However, things weren’t that simple. They never were with Shawn. But never before had you doubted where you stood with him.

“I – I can’t do this.” You found yourself saying, his head snapping up – bloodshot eyes meeting yours.

He was on his feet before you could blink, “No. Y/n – let’s talk about this, please.”

You hesitated, before shaking your head. It was too late for talking now. You had waited for him to act and he had left you dry.

“You need to figure yourself out before we can do that Shawn.” You spun the ring on your finger. “I can’t be with you if you’re not a hundred percent sure about me.”

“I love you.” His voice cracked, a single tear traveling down his sculpted cheek again.

“I love you too.” You sniffled, taking the ring off your finger – Shawn immediately flinching back, “Please. Please don’t leave me.”

“You lied to me. You used me as a placeholder for her. You still love –”

“I don’t. I don’t.” He was shaking, his hands coming up to fold behind his head, “It was a spur of the moment, baby – ”

“I know you, Shawn.” You were tired, and he was delirious. You couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore, and you were afraid that if you kept this up any longer – he could convince you to stay.

“Call me when you figure everything out. And then we can talk.”

You placed the ring on the counter, the clang of it hitting the marble making Shawn flinch again, but you didn’t let yourself get phased.

You took one long look at him, before turning around and walking out of the bathroom – and ultimately the house.

He didn’t call after you once.

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