#anyways their concerts will only get better from here like honestly wish they could have the same concert director as exo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Perspective

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse recounts the time he first met his now best friend who too has been gifted with a deep voice.

Requested by two Anons. This fic is a mash up of two very similar requests I got from an unnamed Anon and 🖤🥀 Anon, so a big thank you to the both of you for sending in your requests! I’m really sorry to be posting your requested fic so late but I hope the final product is gonna make the wait you had to endure worth it! If you come across it and read it, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

“Yeah, yeah ok, I know.“ I can’t help but playfully roll my eyes at the comments that are flooding in, “Before any more people address it - even though it’s only been five minutes - I’m gonna address it myself: I apologize for the absence of the guest I promised would accompany me on this stream. She made the choice to party until late - or should I say early - and is currently probably asleep. And...I just don’t have the heart to wake her.“

In all honesty, all the blame should fall on Y/N’s lack of responsibility but I could never say such a thing - she rarely let’s herself loose and allows herself to have fun so there’s no way I’m gonna hold this one instance against her. Quite the contrary actually: I hope she starts going out and having fun more frequently cause really deserves it. She’s a super hardworking girl, studying college and working her ass off simultaneously.

“For those of you who don’t know who I’m referring to: the girl in question is Y/N, aka Jumpscaretastic, a horror games oriented streamer. She was supposed to join me for this freaky journey but...yeah I’ll have to endure it on my own because fuck me.“ I take a look at my chat again, deciding to keep this interaction with my viewers going for a bit longer before I start the game. I may be stalling but you sure as hell won’t hear me admit it. The game may be terrifying as hell - I have no doubt it is - but I doubt it would affect me so much if Y/N was here. My eyebrows furrow automatically at the sight of one specific question that I’ve been getting asked quite a lot recently and I’ve been doing my best to avoid it cause the idea - to me, at least - is so messed up. Why, we’ll get into that later. “No- ok, this is the first and last time I’ll be addressing this wild assumption, you guys, so listen carefully. Y/N and I are by no means related. I’m not related to every deep-voiced person on this planet, just FYI.“ Speaking of Y/N’s deep voice which I’ve gotten so accustomed to hearing, I can’t help but recall the first interaction the two of us had when she got invited by Toast for a game of Among Us with us when Felix canceled on us due to technical difficulties. “I may not be related to her but she really put into perspective how other people feel and react when they hear my voice. I, honestly speaking was astonished by hers.“

A few months ago

“Ok guys, since Felix texted me about an hour ago, saying he won’t be able to make it, I invited a friend of mine so I hope that’s ok with you.“ Toast announces when the majority of us have accumulated in the lobby.

“Yeah, all cool. An introduction to them would be nice though.“ Charlie says, tampering with his avatar’s appearance on the in-game laptop.

“Oh, I’m sure she can do that herself.” He says with a bit of a chuckle, “Y/N?“

“I’m here, I’m here.“

My gaze moves from my chat to the monitor displaying the game in an instant as though it would reveal to me who the owner of this unfamiliar voice that just travelled through my headphones is. You know how my voice is considerably deep, yeah well this girl’s voice is six feet below that. My eyes have widened without me even noticing as I hurry to unmute myself despite being a little late to the reaction party which already consists of a ton of ‘OMG’s and “WHOA”s from the rest of the people in the call. Not one of them, however, considers to question the authenticity of the voice.

“Was that a voice changer or something?“ I say, my eyebrows shooting up when I hear the laugh I receive in response to the question - a sound so deep but simultaneously sweet and girly it messes with my head.

“I wish I kept count so I could tell you which number on the list of people who’ve asked me that you fall under.“ The girl, Y/N replies, “But for the record no, it’s not a voice changer.“

Realizing how hypocritical this question probably seems coming from me, I decide to believe her - probably cause she gets nothing if she lies anyways. “Oh, so this is how it feels hearing my voice for the first time, huh?“ I say, slowly nodding my head, still in slight disbelief.

“Yeah, meeting her was quite rattling - in the best way possible though.“ I say, fixating myself back in reality following the little trip back in time to the day Y/N and I met. “She’s now one of my best friends so that should tell you enough.“

It goes without saying that, since she’s my best friend, I know her quite well. That being said, with the detailed knowledge I have on her, I can guess she’s gonna be in for a massive hangover when she wakes up. I just hope she texts me when she does so I can make sure she’s at least semi-functional. Just then, my phone buzzes with a message. Much to my shock, it’s a message from Y/N. Truth be told, I didn’t expect her to be up for another hour or two or three but here she is, sending a simple text that reads:

“My head’s pounding like a drum mid rock n’ roll concert“

There are no emojis accompanying the message, suggesting she’s deadly serious and in quite a bit of pain. Ok, I won’t sugarcoat it - she’s in a fuck-load of pain right now.

“The Sleeping Beauty has awaken and is complaining about a headache, just in case you were wondering.“ I chuckle seemingly nonchalantly as I silently contemplate whether to text her back or call her instead. Who’s gonna know better than my viewers, after all... “You guys think I should call her? Or would that annoy her?“ I ask, furrowing my brows at the chat as I see different responses coming in.

Meh, fuck it - I think to myself, already taking my phone to call Y/N when the support of my viewers floods in as well.

She picks up after two rings, letting out a sound that sets the tone for the discomfort she’s in.

“Hello to you too.“ I say, putting the call on speaker so my mic can pick up her responses. “Would you please rate the pain you’re in right now on a scale 1-10?“

“A hundred.“ Her strained, raspy and deeper than usual voice comes through, stealing a chuckle from me, “I’m hungover and still a bit drunk. Like, how does that even work?“

“The morning after is a straight-up bitch. Welcome to the world of bad decisions.“ I tell her compassionately, low-key wishing I could go over to her place and provide her with at least a tiny bit of comfort, as much as I can.

“Yeah...“ she sighs halfway dramatically, “Anyhow, we usually text around this time, what’s up with the call?“

“Just wanted to make sure my best-girl wasn’t really dying, you know. Who am I supposed to annoy in Among Us if you’re not there, after all?” I raise my brow and, although she can’t see me, I bet she can probably guess I’m doing that.

“Whatever...“ The same way I can imagine her rolling her eyes while smiling as she said that, “Tell me this, am I wrong or was I supposed to be on your stream today?“

I barely manage to hold in my laughter at the question, “Uh, yeah you were, but...” she doesn’t let me finish my sentence, instead cuts me of:

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, Corpse! I totally forgot. Believe me, if I could roll my ass out of bed I’d hop in but I really can’t. Unless you want me to be a bore for an hour and a half, that is.“

“For starters, you could never be a bore to me.“ I say matter-of-factly, “And for seconds, you’re kinda on the stream anyway...“

“Come again?“ She cuts me off yet again, “You’re calling me mid-stream? If so, hey everyone! Sorry I couldn’t join, I promise to make it up to both you and Corpse soon.“ A yawn comes from her end before she continues, “As of now, I think I’ll go back to sleep.“

“Alright, alright. I’ll call you again later to make sure you’re still alive. Sleep tight.“ I tell her, already hovering my thumb over the ‘Hang up‘ button.

“Won’t let the hangover bite.“ She slurs/murmurs, stealing my opportunity to end the call cause she does it herself.

I stare at my phone for a second, finally becoming aware of the grin that has spread across my face. Eventually, I address my viewers once again, “There you have it, guys. Technically, you can give her a pass for answering the call, especially in her current state, so let’s all agree to not hold this against her, cool?“

A brief look at my chat shows me the ton of fluffy comments that are coming in as a reaction to the interaction Y/N and I just had. One, however, sticks out especially. It reads: ‘You like her or smt?’

“Do I like Y/N?“ I read the comment out loud, a smirk coming across my face, “Of course I do. She’s a darling.“ If I had a webcam on I’d look straight into the lens and wink. That’s probably spark more than enough rumors, but at the very least they wouldn’t be wrong. “I’ve stalled enough, Outlast is waiting.“ I announce, finally starting the game. After all, it cannot be scarier than the conspiracies my fans could come up with. I get it though - from their perspective, we’re already the perfect couple; from my perspective we’re impossible because from Y/N’s perspective we’re best friends.

Ain’t that how it always goes?

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jenohi · 3 years

Text

stranger

PAIRING ▸ Watanabe Haruto x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ pining, high school au, lacrosse au, I’m not really sure what genre this is lol

WARNINGS ▸ traumatic events?

SUMMARY ▸ When Haruto moves halfway around the world the last person he expects to see is you. His former nemesis...or so he thinks.

PLAYLIST ▸ Still Don’t Know My Name by Labyrinth

WORD COUNT ▸ 9626

UNIVERSE ▸ YG High; Treasure Lacrosse Team

A/N ▸ I’ve decided from here on out all my stories will probably fall within the same universe. I only really have like 4 universes in mind so I’ll label them just so you know. Also, I’m looking to add some art to my stories to bring them more to life but I am useless at graphics/edits, so! If you’re really into making graphics/edits and you enjoy my work please please PLEASE reach out to me!!! I would love to work with an amazing artist! <3 <3 Plz enjoy.

A/N 2 ▸ This story is like a lot of crossover with Jeongwoo’s story but I hope I was able to bring justice to Haruto’s character and bring his story to life. :P ok now enjoy for real realz.

You were the prettiest girl Haruto had ever known in his life. But to him, you were also his rival. You always managed to score just a few points higher than him on each exam, each quiz, each assignment. To him it always felt like the teachers liked you more, so he made sure your classmates liked him more. The thing that made him really mad was that you were so unbothered. You were ambivalent to him and you didn’t even know his name. If you really were strangers and never sat in the same class he could understand. But you had been in the same classes for years. Each time you spoke to him, you politely asked for his name. As if you were strangers.

When his parents told him that his family was going to move to another city, far enough that he would have to transfer schools, he had mixed feelings. This was his last chance to confront you. To understand why you’d never bothered to remember his name, but each time he approached you he found you furiously scribbling in a notebook. Although he resented you for not knowing his name, he could never get himself to disturb you when you looked so stressed scribbling whatever it was in your notebook.

What Haruto didn’t know is that you did notice him. You noticed the handsome, tall, skinny boy that was always in the corner of your line of sight. But you had no idea what to say to him. So you never approached him. He was a stranger.

Haruto wished he could forget you. He was a bit uncomfortable transferring to a new school at first but thankfully, three other boys had transferred with him. Asahi, Mashiho, and Yoshi had become literal brothers to him. The school also had a transfer students program and he made a new friend, Hanbyul. She was a chatterbox and sometimes she could literally chat his ear off, but she was also sweet and helpful. But she wasn’t you.

But that didn’t matter because Hanbyul had another guy on her mind all the time anyway. “You know we’ve just been friends for such a long time and lately, I’ve started to...I don’t know. I feel different. Nervous. Is it normal to feel nervous around your best friend?”

“I don’t know. Is it?” Haruto responded.

“No, I suppose it isn’t. But he probably doesn’t feel the same way. I doubt he’s ever even thought about me in that way.”

Haruto felt someone nudge him, he turned to see that it was Asahi. Haruto leaned over to hear what he was going to say. “Is she talking about Jaehyuk’s brother?”

Haruto nodded.

“Jaehyuk talks about his little brother and this chick all the time. She’s so off the mark. The little brother definitely has feelings for her if Jaehyuk is anywhere near the mark.” So both parties had feelings for one another but both parties were too chicken to say anything to each other. And for no good reason.

In a way that reminded Haruto of himself and it pissed him off. He knew that spending so much time with his new friend would raise suspicions but he didn’t care. He knew that spending so much time with her pissed Jeongwoo off. It didn’t take a genius to recognize it when they went to the Big Bang Concert together.

Haruto thought he was going crazy when he spotted you a few spaces over at the concert. He rubbed his eyes and blinked a few times to make sure it was really you. Haruto stormed over to you once he decided that it was in fact you. He had spent months thinking about what to say to you if he ever saw you again, he wasn’t going to miss this opportunity. Haruto didn’t even think to tell his new friends where he had gone.

You saw a tall, handsome figure approaching your direction. You took a second to check him out, but then turned back to the performers and continued to enjoy yourself. Your parents were reluctant to let you go out to this concert on your own but it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that you wanted so badly. You smiled sadly at what might happen when you woke up tomorrow.

“I didn’t know you were a fan of Big Bang.” You heard a voice from behind speak into your ear. You jumped in surprise and turned around to see that it was the handsome stranger you saw sauntering your way earlier.

“Hi, what’s your name?” You asked with a polite smile on your face. This is probably exactly what your parents were worried about, creepy men that would try to approach you. You started to think about the best way to remove yourself from the situation safely. The now unamused expression on his face alarmed you.

“When are you gonna cut the shit. You know who I am.”

You looked at him puzzled. “I do? How? From where?”

Haruto felt something in his chest crack. “I used to go to school with you. You’re Y/N right?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s me.” You furiously racked your mind trying to remember what you had read but your memory came up blank. You couldn’t help but cringe and turn away. This is why you tried your best to keep to yourself and away from people. You looked up to see Haruto staring down at you with a curious expression. “I’m sorry I don’t remember you. You said you used to go to school with me? You don’t go to school with me anymore? Can I get your name again? I’m really sorry. I’ll try and remember.”

“My name is Haruto. I don’t go to school with you anymore. I transferred to a new school a few months ago.”

“Oh, I see.”

Haruto wasn’t sure how to feel when he realized you actually had zero recollection of him. For some reason seeing you up close and seeing you really trying to remember him made him feel a bit sympathetic. He couldn’t understand why. It still totally irked him that you didn’t know his name. But something told him to sit down with you and get to know you.

“Well, do you like your new school?” You asked, looking up at Haruto. Your heart was beating hard and fast. You prayed that your face wasn’t flushing.

“Why don’t we just enjoy the rest of the concert for now and we can grab a late night meal after the concert?” Haruto proposed. His own palms were sweaty and his heart was beating fast.

You thought about it for a second, then nodded and smiled. Haruto felt like the world had a glittery filter for a second. He’d always acknowledged that you were attractive, but up close smiling at him, you were drop dead gorgeous.

“Awesome.”

After the concert, the two of you walked side by side as you left the crowded venue. You noticed Haruto took a second to text someone on his phone. He caught you snooping and laughed as you turned away. “It’s fine. I was just letting the friends I came with know that I was gonna head out with you.”

“Oh, if you need to get back with them it’s fine.” You said, maybe hanging out with Haruto was a bad idea after all.

“Not a chance, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. I’m honestly curious to know how you are and how things are back home.”

Your face flushed at his words. You couldn’t remember the last time you had spent time with a guy like this. Was this a date?

“Alright. Then what are you in the mood for?” You asked, pulling up a list of restaurants that were still open at this hour.

“What’s available now? What are you in the mood for right now?” Haruto looked over your shoulder at the menu as he asked.

“Um, what about McDonald’s? I’m not that picky and there’s not that much open right now.” you said.

Haruto stared at you with wide eyes, were you always this cool? So the two of you made your way to the closest McDonald’s and debated which was better, Coke or Sprite. To Haruto, Coca-Cola was non-negotiable.

“How is your new school?” You asked Haruto, munching on a few of your fries. “Do you like it?”

“What are you doing here?” Haruto interjected.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re not in Japan. This is far from home. Why are you in America?”

“Oh, I’m uh- I’m visiting family. I’ve actually transferred to a school around here for the time-being as well.” You jumped in surprise when Haruto shrieked.

“You’re here now? Like for good? Like you go to school here? Where?”

You giggled at the questions he rained down on you. The way he asked you with his cheeks full and eyes wide was rather endearing. “Yes I’m here now. I’m actually, uh, home schooled for the time being.”

“Oh, interesting. Why are you homeschooled? I remember you were always really good at school.” Haruto said before he shoved another chicken nugget into his mouth. The irritating thought that you were always better than him at school, just by a little popped up in his mind but he pushed it away. That didn’t matter anymore. He had your attention now.

You felt your face flush. Even with your condition it was true that you maintained your good grades. So Haruto must have actually known you back in Japan. You eyed him again, when he caught you staring at him you turned away. Haruto smirked.

“Enough about me. Tell me about your friends. You said you came with friends from your new school right?”

“Well I’d say one of them is actually who I’d consider a friend. The other one is a mutual friend. A childhood friend that has feelings for her.”

“Her?” it slipped out of your mouth. Haruto’s smirk reappeared and his eyebrow jumped up when he looked at you. You looked away, what was this funny feeling in your chest? It was weird.

“Our school had this transfer student program and she just happened to be assigned to me. She’s really cool, I’m not into her like that and she’s not really into me like that. She likes her friend.”

“How do you know?”

“She told me.”

“Oh. That feels like something important. Like a secret.”

“Well, I told her a secret as well.”

You stared at him. He didn’t indulge in the secret. Haruto was wholly focused on sipping the last of his Coca-Cola before putting it down on the table and letting out a sigh.

“Well so what’s going on with them now?” You asked.

“Hopefully, they both pull their heads out of their asses tonight. I gave them time alone so the best case scenario is that they just talk it out. The dude, Jeongwoo, I actually met him for the first time tonight and he’s a cool dude. It would be nice to have more dude friends around here.”

“You don’t have any guy friends?”

“I do. There are 3 other transfer students from Japan and they’re all dudes and I’m friends with them. Actually, Americans like to play this sport. Lacrosse? My friend told me to try out for the team and I think I might. Mashi, Asahi, and Yoshi agreed to try-out as well so it’ll be fun.”

You nodded, you had no idea what lacrosse was and you didn’t think you would be that interested to learn either. “I should get home.”

“Right of course.” Haruto said, getting up. “Where are you headed? Let me call you an Uber.”

“No, it’s okay. I can actually walk back home from here.”

“Oh really? Well, at least let me walk you back.”

You hesitated for a second. Would it be smart to show this guy where you lived? But then you shook it off, he seemed pretty harmless throughout the night and you trusted that he knew you from school in Japan. So you agreed.

“Do you have to be home-schooled?” Haruto asked.

“No, I don’t think so.” you answered.

“Would you be interested in attending school in person again?” Haruto could feel the devil on his shoulder kicking him. What was he doing? He had already gone to school with you before and the fact that you always did just a smidge better than him drove him nuts.

“Um, I haven’t really thought about it. Why?”

“You should consider transferring to my school?”

Your eyebrows shot up. “What?”

Haruto stepped back a bit and raised his hands. “It was just a suggestion. Honestly, I struggled a bit when I first came here. I can’t imagine how lonely it must be to be here and just be home-schooled so I figured it might be nice to have some sense of community.”

“Um, I’ll think about it.” You weren’t going to think about it. You looked up and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw the familiar apartment complex. “This is me. You don’t have to walk in with me. I’m gonna go now.”

“Wait.” Haruto said. You turned around to look at him, a thin smile on your face. “I, uh, I had fun.”

“Yeah, this was nice.” You said truthfully.

“We should do it again sometime.” Haruto said. You stared at him, he looked perfectly composed to you. But his heart was practically beating so hard he thought it might fall out of his chest.

“Honestly, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

Haruto felt a heat and anger flare up in his chest. But he did his best to tamp it down and get it under control. This was literally the first time you had acknowledged his presence. He put a smile on his face. “Well, then maybe we’ll just run into each other again sometime.”

“Maybe, it’s all up to fate now. Good night Haruto.”

“Good night Y/N.”

The second you made it back into your room you pulled out your diary. You scribbled the notes you had logged into your phone throughout the day as quickly as possible. Briefly reliving each moment as you wrote them down. By the time you had gotten to the end of the list and began to recount the concert you could feel your eyelids getting heavier and heavier and your hands writing more and more frantically until suddenly, you crashed.

The next morning you woke up and read your notes. You squinted at the last thing you had written. Your handwriting became illegible near the end. ‘Haruto?’

The next morning Haruto woke up and smiled at the memory of you. Asahi and Mashiho eyed their roommate as he pranced around the living room and kitchen smiling and singing. But nothing could bring Haruto down. Well until he saw his friend looking depressed as hell.

“Dude what’s up?” Haruto asked. “Did you and Jeongwoo figure your shit out?”

“Uh, about that. Well, no.”

“No? What do you mean no?”

“Well what about you? Did you run into her?”

“Nuh uh, this isn’t about me. You literally had the perfect opportunity to make something of it. To make a moment! Did you guys have a moment?”

“Yes, I think we did. But I got scared. I don’t want to lose Jeongwoo as a friend, but at the same time I don’t think he has any feelings for me like that. I just, I think I need space. Maybe if I just distance myself from him a bit then I can get over my feelings and…”

“No offense, but that’s the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Well I don’t care if you think it’s stupid. This is my decision and my decision is that I don’t want to see Jeongwoo for awhile. Ok? I’m not ready for the conversation. So you better get used to seeing me more often!”

Haruto sighed as he watched his friend storm out of the room. He turned around and exchanged looks with Asahi. “Did I say something wrong?”

Asahi shrugged. “Honestly, I think you’re valid. I think her logic in avoiding Jeongwoo is pretty dumb. The dude’s in my gym class. Honestly, he’s chill. I don’t think he’d react badly to her if she confesses regardless of how he feels.”

“I should probably find her and apologize anyway.” Haruto said, exiting the room. Eventually he found his friend and they sat together in the cafeteria.

“Sorry about what I said earlier. I’ll admit it was kind of harsh. But honestly I can’t say I understand your logic at all.”

“It’s fine Haruto. You seemed extra happy when you walked in this morning. Who was the friend that you saw at the concert?”

“It was her. Y/N.”

“No way! Isn’t she in Japan?”

“That’s what I thought too. I was so shocked to see her.”

“What did you say to her? What did you guys talk about? Did she recognize you?”

“That’s the thing. The best part of it all was that I actually had her attention. You remember I told you about how she never acknowledged anybody right? She was always reading her notebook in the hallway. In the past when I spoke to her she never even knew my name! She had to ask me every single time. But this time, there’s no way she wouldn’t remember me!”

“Your relationship is weird. But I guess that’s sweet. What does she write about in her notebook?”

“I don’t know. Why does it matter? She knows my name now!”

“That’s another thing. You went to school together for years and she never remembered your name? Why?”

“I don’t know.” Haruto said. Now he was grouchy. All the questions that had been brought up to him were valid, but these weren’t things he wanted to think about.

A few weeks before the lacrosse tryouts in the spring Haruto went to the hospital to get a physical done.

Once he was done he stumbled into a small cafe right next to the hospital. When he saw who was manning the cash register he rubbed his eyes and looked away and looked back a few times to make sure he wasn’t being deluded. When he was confident that he wasn’t going crazy he stood up and walked over to the register.

You saw a tall, handsome, and skinny guy walk up to the cash register. You cleared your throat and stood up straight. “Hello, what can I get you?”

“Y/N! It’s fate. We ran into each other again!”

“Again?” You put a smile on your face and thought of a response. “Hey, it’s so good to see you! How have you been? What’ll you have?”

“Do you...remember my name?”

You felt your heart picking up speed and your palms beginning to sweat. But you kept your composure. “Of course, let me take your order and we can chat for a second.”

Haruto beamed. “Okay, then I’ll just have an Iced Americano.”

“Okay, that’ll be $3.30. The ice machine is in the back so I’ll be right out in a second. You rushed to the back of the cafe and pulled out your diary and flipped through the pages, reading the entries as quickly as possible. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed a torn piece of paper that had slipped out of your bag. You picked it up, it matched the paper in your diary. You flipped it over to see that it had a name written on it. Haruto.

Was that this guy’s name? Who was he to you? Darn it, why hadn’t you written more?

You quickly filled the cup with ice and walked out filling the cup with cold brew. You grabbed the marker and scribbled Haruto on it. You walked back over to the cash register. This guy’s eyes were practically glittering in anticipation. Was it normal for someone to get this excited over a coffee?

“I’ve got one iced americano for Haruto?” you said.

If his eyes were glittering before, they were practically flashing light strobe lights at a nightclub now. A matching beaming grin on his face. “Yes! Y/N it’s fate. We ran into each other again!”

“Right. Yeah, of course. What are the odds.”

“Do you have a minute?”

“Um, I’m working right now. I’d rather not get in trouble. Maybe another time?”

Haruto swiveled around, eying the cafe. “It looks pretty empty to me. I don’t think you’d get in trouble if you came out for a second just to keep me company.”

“Still…”

“Is your manager even here right now?”

“No.”

“Then come on. Just come out for a second.”

You looked around the cafe, cursing at how vacant it was. You tugged at your sleeves for a second before answering. “Fine.”

You followed Haruto out from behind the counter. He walked over to a table and pulled a seat out from underneath the table. He smiled as he waited for you to sit down. You walked over to the table and turned around. Haruto slid the chair underneath you as you moved to sit down. Once you were seated Haruto ran around to the other side of the table and sat down.

“How are you? How have you been?” Haruto asked.

You stared at the boy sitting in front of you. He was so handsome. “I’m doing well. How about you?”

“I’m good. I was in the area because I needed to go to the hospital.”

Your ears perked up. “Why were you at the hospital?”

“Why do you wanna know? Are you worried about me?”

You didn’t say anything. You just stared at Haruto. Haruto cleared his throat and looked away for a second. “I’m just playing with you. I went to get a physical.”

You nodded, tracing the patterns on the tablecloth.

“I needed one for lacrosse tryouts.”

“Lacrosse? What is that?” you asked. Haruto thought the way your nose scrunched in confusion was adorable.

“I told you about it last time! Remember? It’s this sport that Americans like to play. I had never heard of it in Japan either.”

You didn’t remember. “Right.”

Haruto couldn’t understand the dynamics of the conversation. He watched as you avoided eye contact with him and intensely focused on tracing the pattern of the table cloth. Then you would stare out the window of the cafe, it almost appeared as if your eyes were glazed over. “What are you always writing about in your notebook?”

Your head spun over to look at him so fast, you thought you might have gotten whiplash. “What?”

“Your notebook. I remember in school back in Japan I always saw you either writing things down in a notebook or reading the same notebook. What’s in it?”

“Um, nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why? It can’t be that bad. I promise I won’t laugh no matter how embarrassing it might be.” Haruto said. Leaning forward over the table so that he was in your face.

“Forget it.” You said, leaning back and looking away. You glanced over at your bag that was perched far back behind the counter and breathed a sigh of relief. “Look. I gotta go. I’m supposed to be working right now. I think you should go now as well.”

You stood up from the table so quickly that the chair you were sitting on toppled over. You didn’t bother to turn around and pick it up. You walked back towards the counter without looking back.

Haruto watched you as you walked away. He narrowed his eyes when he saw you grab your bag and walk to the back of the cafe. There was only one thing on his mind as he walked out of the cafe. Your notebook. What was in the notebook?

You frantically flipped to today’s page in your notebook. In all caps with your boldest, darkest black marker you wrote at the top of your notebook. ‘Beware of Haruto. Tall, Handsome. Asked about notebook.’

Then you shut the notebook and exited the back room, breathing a sigh of relief when you noticed that the cafe was vacant once again. You walked over to the cafe table where you had previously sat and picked up the chair that had fallen over when you had left the conversation.

The next day at school Haruto was deep in thought. What could possibly be so important about a notebook? When Hanbyul shoved him, Haruto shrieked as he fell out of his chair. “Dude, what the hell is your problem?”

“What are you thinking about? You look like you’re thinking so hard that your brain might break.”

“Do you have an important notebook? Is that like something girls do?”

“You mean like a diary?”

Haruto snapped his fingers and looked up. “Yes! Exactly like one of those. Do you have one of those?”

“I did when I was younger. I don’t keep one anymore though. Why do you ask?”

“My friend. The one from home, Y/N? I think she has one. I asked her about it yesterday and she got all dodgy and weird.”

“Ah, well. Back when I did keep a diary it held all my dirtiest secrets. I don’t think I would want to share it with anybody or for anybody to know about it. Not even now, and as an elementary schooler I really don’t think I had any secrets worth keeping.”

“It was so weird. She got so defensive over it. I didn’t realize bringing it up would be such a touchy subject.”

Hanbyul shrugged. “Different things matter to different people. Are you ready for tryouts? They’re coming up soon aren’t they?”

Haruto nodded. “Asahi, Mashiho, Yoshi, and I have started going to that gym that you recommended. Lacrosse is actually pretty fun. Mashiho is the best though. Are you coming to tryouts?”

“Of course I am. I’m practically making you go so it’s only fair that I be there to see how you do. I reserve the right to totally make fun of you if you embarrass yourself though.”

Haruto rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”

Soon enough it was the first day of lacrosse tryouts. Haruto had frequented the cafe that you worked at in hopes of getting the chance to speak to you again. Unfortunately, what he didn’t know was that you had quit the job and diligently stayed home and studied.

Haruto was agitated at the thought of not being able to speak to you again. When he tried to sit down and rationalize it himself he couldn’t make sense of it. A year ago he despised you for not knowing his name. You know his name now, right? What more did he want from you?

“Haruto? Haruto! Hello? Are you even listening to me?”

Haruto turned to look at Hanbyul. “Honestly no, sorry. What’s up?”

“I feel bad for how I treated Jeongwoo. You were right, avoiding him was not the right thing to do. But why hasn’t he said anything to me?”

“Look I can’t tell you what’s going on between the two of you any better than you can. My assumption is that he’s a bit hurt and confused at the moment by how you’re acting and he doesn’t want to make things any worse than they are.”

“Can’t you say something to him?”

“Me?” Haruto looked up from his stick that he was re-taping. “What do you want me to say to him?”

“I don’t know. Just...just get him to react.”

Haruto scoffed. “If you want me to do that I can but again I feel like it’s not going to produce the results that you want. Like I think if I say anything things are gonna go really sour so I think you should think long and hard about this.”

“Haruto!”

“Look, I gotta go. Tryouts are starting.” Haruto said, turning away and walking onto the field. He didn’t miss the hard stare coming his way from Jeongwoo. Haruto ignored them and focused on his gameplay. Lacrosse had actually become really cathartic for him and he found that he really wanted to make the team.

Haruto noticed that the coaches seemed to be reacting favorably to how he was playing. He also realized that Jeongwoo was also really good but he played really aggressively, like he had something to lose. At the end of practice Haruto figured his hunches must have been correct because the coaches called him over to speak with him.

“I’m sure you know Varsity tryouts were this morning, all of your friends from Japan did great as did you and so we’re thinking about pulling you up to varsity. So tomorrow I want you to come early and try out with the varsity team, alright?”

Haruto beamed and nodded.

“Good work son.” The coach slapped Haruto on the shoulder. He did his best not to fall over. Thankfully the coach didn’t notice.

Haruto walked off the field and headed towards the school parking lot. Just as he pulled his phone out to call someone for a ride home his phone pinged, he tapped on the notification to see that it was a message from Mashiho.

Mashiho: Haruto have JV tryouts ended?

Haruto: Yes, I just finished

Mashiho: Cool. Have you found a ride home yet?

Haruto: No, do you know anyone who can come get me?

Mashiho: Ya, a lot of the guys on varsity can drive. Junkyu is over now but he offered to come pick you up.

Haruto: Junkyu?

Mashiho: He’s trying out for the varsity team. He’s cool. Kinda goofy but cool. I’ll come by with him.

Haruto: Alright, thanks dude.

Mashiho: Np.

Haruto checked the time on his phone before putting it back into his pocket. 6 P.M. Would you be at the cafe? The last few times he had gone by he hadn’t seen you. He put the thought away when a car appeared in front of him. The window rolled down and Mashiho cheered when he saw Haruto. “Get in the car! You smell!”

“Shut up and unlock the door Mashi.” The car door clicked open and Haruto hopped into the backseat. There was a large dude sitting in the driver’s seat who kept fidgeting with a bunch of random controls.

The guy turned around with a giant grin on his face. “Hello! I’m Junkyu. You must be Haruto! Nice to meet you!”

Haruto bowed. “Hello. Yes, I am Haruto. Nice to meet you as well.”

“Ruto! How were tryouts?”

“They were really good. Coach pulled me over at the end of tryouts and told me to come early tomorrow morning and try out with the varsity team.”

“Damn! You must be so good!” Junkyu said from the driver’s seat. Haruto tried not to be concerned by the way Junkyu was driving. His head kept swiveling from left to right. “Did you guys play sports back in Japan? All of you were insane at tryouts today!”

“We all played football. I think Mashi and Yoshi played basketball as well.”

“Football? Do you mean football football or soccer football?”

“Eh?”

“Do you kick a ball or do you carry a ball?”

“You kick it. Duh. Why would you carry a ball? That’s just dumb.”

“Americans call a totally different sport football. Don’t worry about it too much. But it’s awesome that you guys are so good.”

“Well to be fair, we were told about that Lacrosse Club and we had a few training sessions every week leading up to try outs.” Mashiho said.

“Ahh! How’d you hear about that? A few of us have been playing on their club teams for a while.”

“My friend told me about it. She’s the person responsible for me in the foreign exchange students program. Hanbyul?”

“Oh! I know who you’re talking about. Her brother was a legend at this school. He was a top recruit since his sophomore year here. But right before the most important game of his senior year he tested positive on a drug test and he couldn’t play. It totally turned him, his team, and the school around. He got dropped by the college that was recruiting him. But I heard he struck a deal with a pro-team and I guess he’s been training with them. The dude was in a league of his own.”

“Damn. That’s insane.”

“Yeah, our school takes lacrosse pretty seriously. The best players at our school get recruited to some of the best schools so it’s a great opportunity.”

Haruto knew there were probably more important things to be thinking about in this conversation but he couldn’t help but wonder if he could get you to come to one of his games.

The second day of tryouts Haruto was absolutely on fire. His shorts were shart, his passes were quick, and his steps were light. The varsity team was definitely of a different caliber but Haruto found the challenge fun. It was nice to be able to play with the rest of the Japanese boys as well.

At the end of varsity tryouts the coach pulled him over, “you were great out there today. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling alright coach.”

“Up for a few more hours?”

Haruto paused, but then nodded. He wasn’t in a place to argue with his coaches. “Sure.”

“Great. Then I want you to continue through JV tryouts. Grab some water and then head back out onto the field.”

“Alright coach.”

Haruto jogged out to the edge of the field. He was surprised to see Hanbyul sitting at the edge of the bleachers. “What’s up?”

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here? I came to watch your second day of tryouts.”

“Are you sure you’re here to watch me?”

“Shut up. Why are you all sweaty already?”

“Coach had me try out with the varsity team today.”

Hanbyul’s eyes widened. “Dang, you must be awesome. The last two boys that made it onto the varsity team as sophomores were my brother and his best friend Bobby.”

Haruto shrugged. “The game is fun. It would be awesome to play on varsity.”

The coach blew his whistle, signalling all the players to come back out onto the field. Haruto turned around and gathered around. Every so often throughout the day Haruto ran back to the bleachers where Hanbyul sat. His bag was stowed away there as was his secret stash of Coca-Cola. It probably wasn’t smart to be drinking Coke in the middle of tryouts but every so often he needed a pick-me-up.

“You need to quash that habit.”

“Yeah yeah.”

At the end of the day the coach told Haruto to wait for him inside his office. So Haruto did just that.

“So what’d you think about tryouts today?” Coach asked.

“It was intense.”

“Yeah, what did you think of the way the varsity team played?”

“They were quicker, sharper, and more nimble.”

“Good observation. Do you think you were good enough to play on their level?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then answer me another question. If you had to pick another player from the JV tryouts today to pull up to Varsity who would you pick?”

Haruto thought about it for a second. The answer was obvious. The only other person who seemed to put up a fight with him was “Jeongwoo.”

“Good guess.” The coach laughed. “I don’t know what they feed you kids in Japan. But all four of you are good.”

There was a knock on the door. Haruto turned around to see Jeongwoo. He smirked when he saw the sour expression on Jeongwoo’s face. But it was gone once he had walked into the room and stood adjacent to Haruto.

“The two of you have demonstrated amazing capabilities and I am considering pulling one of you up to the varsity team. Take this opportunity seriously. Tomorrow is the last day of tryouts.”

The last place Haruto expected to run into you was at the hospital. The last thing you were expecting at the hospital was for a dude to come up behind you and scare you. It was horrible, you can’t remember the last time you screamed so loudly, let alone at a public place.

“What are you doing here Y/N?”

“Uh, I’m-” you hesitated, trying to craft an answer that was vague enough that you wouldn’t have to tell the whole truth but not vague enough that he wouldn’t continue to ask questions. But thankfully Haruto seemed to take it upon himself to fill the silence.

“Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry that I totally misjudged you when I first met you? In fact, I thought I hated you.”

Alarm bells went off in your head. Was it normal for a person to come to you and tell you they hated you? “Uh, thanks?”

But Haruto continued. “But I wanted to say I totally read you wrong. You’re actually really cool. And I wanted to say thank you. For remembering my name.”

That was the first time someone had ever said that to you. You stared at him blankly unsure of how to respond.

“Haruto! Haruto! Haruto! Please report to waiting room 105, the doctor is ready for you now.” The voice over the loudspeaker belted.

“Well, that’s me.” Haruto said with a soft smile on his face. He got up and waved goodbye to you before heading to the back of the office.

Once he was safely out of sight you pulled out your notebook. Your face paled once you flipped through it a few times. You thought about what to do. What did this guy want? You wrote out all these questions in your notebook. Then you came to a conclusion of what to do and wrote that down in your notebook as well.

You ripped out a piece of paper from your notebook and scribbled your number on it. Then got up to the receptionist desk. “Hi, I don’t know if you’re allowed to do this. But when that guy Haruto comes out. Would you mind giving him this?”

You handed the sheet of paper over to her, the receptionist gave you a look and then a wink before accepting the sheet of paper. You figured that meant she accepted, so you waved goodbye and left the hospital.

“Excuse me sir!” The receptionist lady called out to Haruto as he was about to head out of the doctor’s office. What felt and looked like a nasty possible sprain on the lacrosse field just turned out to be a measly bruise.

Haruto approached the reception desk. “There was a young lady earlier. She asked me to give this to you before you leave.”

Haruto looked at the slip of paper. His eyes widened into the size of large gumballs when he realized what was on it. He felt like his heart would explode. But then his mind pumped the brakes, he wasn’t ungrateful, but why did you give him your number?

On the way back home you second guessed your decision at least 30 times. Why did you give him your number? The only reason you could think of was that you didn’t want to not know the guy. Contrary to what your mind and your diary told you. Your heart didn’t want to give him up. Maybe it was selfish and confusing, who knew? But who cared?

Haruto’s excitement was cut short when he finished punching your number into his contacts. Before he could even send a message to you, his phone rang. Hanbyul.

“Hey Hanbyul, what’s up?”

Haruto became alarmed when he heard a sniff and a muffled sob. “Haruto, I miss him.”

Haruto sighed. “He’ll come around soon.”

“Is there nothing you can do to make him come around sooner?”

“Hanbyul. If all goes well he’s going to be my teammate. Plus, what could I possibly say to change things?”

“I don’t know. He probably thinks there’s something going on between us.”

Haruto paused. “Is that why you’re friends with me?”

“No, no I swear it’s not. You’re an amazing person and you’ve been an amazing friend.”

“Hanbyul.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t like what you’re asking me to do. But you are my friend. If you’re really sure this is the way you want to go about it.”

“I’m- I’m not sure. I just need things to change.”

On the third day of tryouts Haruto was in a funk. And it showed. The events of yesterday night haunted him, he was happy to see you but he was sorry for Hanbyul. Haruto didn’t really like to fight with anybody, but he found her requests unreasonable and the questions she asked about you probing and uncomfortable.

It seemed as if Jeongwoo was the same way. Haruto gave into the niggling voice inside his head and said probably he shouldn’t have said. “You’re gonna lose your girl to me and now you’re gonna lose your spot on the team to me?”

It pushed Jeongwoo off the edge and the two of them went at it. Haruto played ferociously and aggressively. As did Jeongwoo. The game ended when Jeongwoo illegally body checked Haruto.

“Dude what the hell is your problem?”

“No, what’s your problem? Your comment back there? Absolutely uncalled for.”

Valid. But Haruto wasn’t going to admit that. “Please. Pull your head out of your ass. You’re hurting your friend. Talk to her.”

Haruto stood by as he and Jeongwoo got scolded for their behavior. Eventually, tryouts ended with neither one ending up on the varsity team. Haruto knew he probably should have been more bothered but he wasn’t. He had other things on his mind.

When Haruto exited the office he saw Hanbyul waiting outside. She turned to look away from Jeongwoo back to Haruto. Tired and hopeful that their saga would end, Haruto smiled and jutted his chin out towards Jeongwoo. Hanbyul smiled and ran after Jeongwoo.

Since the fateful day you have Haruto your number. Whenever he had a free moment he would ask to see you. After each time you saw him, you thoroughly wrote down everything that had happened in the day. You didn’t want to forget.

A few Mondays ago, you went to get ice cream together. “What’s your favorite food, Haruto?”

“Me? Anything unhealthy.”

You whacked him on the arm for that.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For being a stupid teenage boy. And because I’m jealous of your metabolism.”

A couple Thursdays ago, Haruto asked you if you wanted to go watch a movie with him. The Uber and the weather didn’t quite work out. “Sorry we missed the movie by 45 minutes. But on the bright side, it’s not raining anymore!”

You laughed. “I guess you’re right. What should we do instead now that we’re here?”

Haruto looked around. He pointed at the grassy meadow. “We should just lay down on the grass and look at the stars.”

“The grass is wet.”

“Look, they're selling plastic tarps over at that convenience store. Let’s just buy one.”

“Okay.”

Haruto paid for a plastic tarp and spread it down out on the grassy meadow. The two of you laid on the ground parallel to one another. Until Haruto turned to you “can I hold you?”

You felt your face flush and you looked away. You hesitated for a few moments but eventually Haruto smiled when he heard a soft “yeah.”

So he moved his arm as you lifted your head to rest on top of it. You curled into him as his arm wrapped around your upper body. Haruto’s stomach exploded in butterflies. Your face was on fire. But the two of you were happy, blissful.

Last Friday night Haruto asked you to come to one of his lacrosse games. “Y/N, this is my friend Hanbyul. Hanbyul, this is Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Hanbyul stared at you eyes wide. Like she knew something. She looked like she wanted to say something but she held it in. You wondered what it was, but decided not to think too much about it.

Hanbyul was sweet. She kept you company throughout the game. But she was an aggressive cheer-er. Most of her attention was spent yelling at the field. Her energy was contagious and by the end of the game you were standing on the bleachers cheering “Go Haruto!”

Now it was Saturday and the two of you had finally gone to see the movie that you had meant to see a couple Thursdays ago. You clasped onto the arm that Haruto had held out for you as you exited the movie theater. “That movie was so good! It was so crazy!”

Haruto laughed. “Yeah it was okay.”

“Just okay? You didn’t like it?”

“No, I liked it. It wasn’t bad. But I feel like there were better movies from this cinematic universe you know?”

“Yeah I guess.”

“Which one was your favorite?” Haruto asked.

“Huh?” You looked up at Haruto to see him looking down at you. You turned away. “Um. Would you wanna come back to my place?”

“Huh?” Haruto wasn’t normally caught off guard but this time he was.

“I mean. Not like that. I just, I don’t know I’m not ready for the night to end and I figured since my place is close by we could just go back and chat.”

Haruto smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Let’s go.”

Soon after the two of you arrived at your place, Haruto got situated on the couch and after making sure he was properly settled in. You had gotten up to go fetch your drinks. Haruto spotted your notebook sitting on the edge of the coffee table. He glanced over to see that your attention was fully occupied on making your drinks. Haruto turned back to stare at the notebook. No. The notebook was staring at him. Haruto knew it was wrong. He knew he shouldn’t peek.

But he couldn’t help it. Every time he saw you he either saw the notebook with you or he saw you writing the notebook and every time he even remotely looked in its direction you guarded it with your life. This could be his only chance.

And so, Haruto grabbed the notebook. He flipped through it and saw that it was very meticulously dated. Upon closer inspection he noticed that each entry was timed as well and every timed entry had extensive details about what you saw, what you talked about. Then he flipped backwards and found one page not like the others.

This page wasn’t dated. Instead, it was titled. Haruto. Haruto’s eyes widened. Every line of his designated page was filled. There were things about him on there that even he hadn’t realized he had said. Why had you written all these things down? All these details didn’t seem that important to him. They were like things that were probably easily remembered. Or things you could ask him about, he’d answer if you ever asked him about.

Just as he was about to continue flipping through the pages of the notebook. “What do you think you’re doing?”

An index card fluttered out of the notebook right at Haruto’s feet. Haruto bent down to pick it up. But in a panic you kicked his shin and as he howled and grabbed onto his leg you snatched the card. “What the hell Y/N?”

“No. I should be asking you that. I’ve made it abundantly clear that this notebook is not to be touched. It’s incredibly private to me.”

“What is it? Why is it so important? I asked Hanbyul what it might be and she just said it was probably a diary. What is so special about yours?”

“What is so special about mine?” you were so angry you felt like your head was about to pop. While your head didn’t pop. Your mouth certainly did. “What is so special about mine? This notebook? This notebook. Is my memory. I don’t have a memory.”

You tossed the card at Haruto. He picked it up and read the words on the card as you spoke.

“At age 13 you were involved in a very traumatic car accident. The accident left you in a coma for two weeks. After you recovered from your coma you were diagnosed with anterograde amnesia. From that day on, you no longer have the ability to make memories. The memories you make within a day will only last until you fall asleep wherein your memories of the previous day will be wiped. Use your notebooks to keep track of your days. Use these notebooks to help you remember.”

You could hear your voice waver as you finished reciting the contents on the index card.

“Y/N, I-” Haruto said. The world seemed grayer and grimmer. Everything made so much sense now. Why every time he spoke to you in school you had to ask for his name. Why sometimes you looked confused or blank when he mentioned something or attempted to crack a joke.

“So now you know.” You whispered. You could feel your body start to heave, your breathing became heavy. The gravity of what you had just exposed started to weigh down on you. “You need to leave. You need to leave and never come back.”

“Y/N. I wish you would have told me.”

“Why?” You snarled. “Why would I tell you that? Each day I wake up I can’t even remember who you are. Why would I have told you anything? Just so you could go around pitying me? Telling everyone else about me? Absolutely not.”

Haruto started to feel tears well up in his own eyes. He felt trapped in his own body as he watched your body fail yours. When he saw you collapse something snapped in his head and he got up and picked you up. One arm held you under your shoulder blades and the other below your knees.

“Get. Out.” you said in between wheezes.

“No. Y/N. I’m sorry. I don’t want to. Let me help you.”

“Get. Out.” you said, barely conscious.

“Y/N. You’re scaring me. What do I do? How do I help you? Let me help you and I’ll leave you alone.”

Your eyelids were getting heavier and heavier. Honestly, you weren’t even sure what exactly was going on. Maybe it would be smart to have Haruto call your doctor before he left. “Emergency Numbers. Notebook.”

Haruto placed you down on your bed just as you had passed out. Haruto immediately ran back to the living room and grabbed your notebook that had fallen onto the ground. He flipped through it frantically. What page were the emergency numbers on? He saw them scribbled on the inside of the back cover. He grabbed his phone and dialed the first number listed at the top.

“Hello? Is this Y/N’s doctor? She’s just passed out and I don’t know what to do. I’m in her apartment right now. Someone please come help me.” Haruto hadn’t even realized that tears had been streaming down his face until he saw wet splotches appear on the notebook. He wiped them quickly and sniffed. “This is scaring me.”

“Yes, this is Y/N’s doctor. I’m on my way over. Who is this?”

“Haruto. I’m a friend of hers.”

“Haruto. You did good, son. Just wait. I’ll be there in a second.”

“Doctor. Is she gonna be okay?”

“Honestly I can’t tell you right now. I have to check up on her. Right now I’m in front of her door so you can let me in.” The call ended and Haruto opened the door.

“Is she in her room?” The stout man asked.

Haruto nodded and followed him back into your room. He tried to help the doctor but eventually the doctor turned to him and said “son, just relax. Give me some space. She should be fine. She had a panic attack, something must have worked her up. But she’ll wake up. But, it might be better if you aren’t here by the time she wakes up.

“I understand, doctor.”

The doctor took a good look at him. Then nodded grimly before turning his attention back to you. Before Haruto could leave though he saw a stack of index cards, a roll of washi tape, and a pen sitting on your desk. He was still holding your notebook from earlier. He grabbed the materials and headed back out to the living room.

Before he left he scribbled out a note. Then pulled something out of his wallet and taped it to the back of the index card. He then taped the index card to the inside of the front cover before shutting the notebook and leaving it in the middle of your coffee table. He held in a sob as he got up. How had things gone so sour so quickly?

Haruto walked back over to your room and peeked in. Your doctor was still busy doting on you. So he turned around and exited your apartment. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Junkyu. “Hey, can you pick me up?”

“Yeah of course. Send me the address.” Junkyu said, trying not to be too alarmed by the tone of Haruto’s voice.

Eventually, you woke up. After reading the note that your doctor had taped to your hand explaining the situation you took a deep sigh. What a shit show. You needed to find the notebook your doctor had mentioned in his note.

It was sitting in the very middle of your coffee table. You flipped through the last few pages to read your entries. Your eyes started to water and you felt yourself get emotional. You could sense that you had grown close to someone. You read about yourself and how you felt about Haruto, but who was Haruto? For the most part you had made peace with your situation but for the first time in a long time, you began to feel frustrated. Angry. Cheated of a normal life that other 16 year old girls got to live.

Just as you were about to shut the notebook you noticed there were two index cards taped to the inside cover. The first one explained your situation. It was more or less what your doctor had just explained to you. But the second one was new. You lifted it up to your face and began to read it aloud.

Y/N,

If you’re reading this, I want you to know that you are the love of my life. My name is Haruto Watanabe and I am 16 years old. I met you for the first time in our freshman year of high school back then when we lived in Japan. We were only 14 years old. I used to be jealous of you, how you beat me in school every time even if just by a little bit. I also resented you because I thought you never bothered to remember my name.

By some stroke of fate, we both ended up in America. Whether by fate or not we saw each other a few more times and met up with each other and I really began to fall for you. You are the kindest, most beautiful, and genuine person I have ever met in my life.

I want you to know that even with your condition. My opinion and my feelings towards you have not changed. I want to be honest with you and tell you what I did and I hope in time you can read this and not feel angry.

Y/N, I did something bad. I invaded your privacy. You see, every time I saw you you fiercely guarded this notebook. Everytime I asked about it or possibly glimpsed at it you would react so strongly so eventually the curiosity of needing to know what was in the notebook killed me. And one day when your attention was occupied elsewhere, I read it.

It seemed like a regular diary to me but you caught me in the act and got upset with me. You explained to me your condition and I want you to know I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry I behaved so insensitively. If I were a more selfless man I would have left your life for good. But I am not. I’ve attached my school I.D. to the back of this card. On it has my name, my picture, and my phone number.

If you ever find it in yourself to forgive me. Please give me a call. I will always love you.

Love,

Haruto Watanabe

You flipped the back of the card over. Sure enough there was a school I.D. taped to the back. You pulled the card off and stared at it. The boy in the picture was handsome. He was tall. His height was 6’2”. You scoffed, at least you had good taste.

You saw his phone number at the bottom. You pondered over whether or not to call him, what would you even say to him? Where would he even fit in your life?

These were the questions that ran through your mind as you pulled your phone out and dialed his number. You stared at the numbers as you recited them aloud again. Your thumb hovering above the green button.

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ptergwen · 3 years

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sensation

w/c: 4.6k

warnings: some swearing, suggestive tings, and a pretty bad ending

summary: it’s the last night of your world tour, and tom has the perfect way to celebrate

a/n: i know y’all have been waiting for this one! everyone really loved when worlds collide but i ran out of ideas for it lol sorry... anyways my solution was to turn it into a oneshot :D based off the au!! i’m honestly nervous about posting this cuz a lot of you asked for it and i don’t wanna disappoint but i tried my absolute hardest to make it special <3 please enjoy

“thank you so much! we love you!” you shout to the audience, laughing breathlessly when they shout back. one of your dancers pulls you into a side hug, you throwing your arm around his neck. “we’re so fucking lucky you chose us, that you came all the way here. i’ve seen some of you back at night one. wow.” your voice gets wobbly, thinking about how loyal your fans are.

the tour started in new york, and they’ve followed you here to london.

tonight is an emotional night for everyone. you’re about to wrap your last show before you continue again in the summer. touring the u.k. has been a dream, and you’re just as thrilled to travel the rest of the world after your break. it’s bittersweet because you’re going to miss the hell out of your crew and the millions of lovely faces you’ve sang to each week. but, you do get to spend your time off with a special someone.

he’s watching you from the sound booth, sending fond smiles and loud cheers your way. thanks to you, tom has been at every show you’ve played in england. he brought harry along this time because he’s also a fan and wanted to see you. well, tom is more than a fan at this point. you’d say he’s more of a boyfriend. you haven’t discussed labels just yet.

your dates have mainly been over facetime, since you live on opposite sides of the world with insane schedules. a heartthrob actor and international popstar is quite the combination. you’ve only seen each other in person a couple of times, the first being pretty recently.

zendaya brought tom along to hang out with you in los angeles. he happened to be there recording some lines for a movie. she saw your concert earlier that night and invited him to crash the dinner plans you’d made, resulting in the best surprise and most fun you’ve ever had. the other time you enjoyed each other’s company was one weekend in paris. that was... something.

besides those two miracles, everything between you and tom happens through a screen. you’ll down bottles of champagne or keep warm under blankets while talking about your days. it’s nice, having someone on the other end who listens and actually hears you. tom gets it. you both do.

finishing your tour in london is convenient because not only will you have tom to comfort you, but you get to stick around for a while. he’s invited you to stay at his place. you can’t wait to meet the other holland’s, his friends, and obviously tessa.

“fuck, i’m gonna cry. i’m already crying,” you announce to the crowd, though they can tell from the tears streaming down your face. more dancers huddle around you and turn your single hug into a group one. you’re laughing and sobbing and holding on tight to everyone. fans bawl their own eyes out, the fact that this is it starting to settle in. the onstage crew even gets choked up, seeing you like this.

tom pouts from where he’s watching. he wishes he could run up there and squeeze you tight, but he’ll have to save that for when you’re done.

“i love you all so much, literally every single one of you in this room,” you tell everyone for the nth time tonight, swiping a perfectly manicured finger under your eyes. “my lighting crew, sound crew, my band, my fearless fucking dancers-“ a hiccup cuts you off. people burst into fits of giggles, which is a much needed tension breaker. you adjust your headset so the mic doesn’t pick up any other bodily noises.

grinning, you rest your arm on a shorter dancer’s shoulder, then go on. “sorry, sorry. i just wanna say, like, three more thank you’s before i get out of here.” there’s a chorus of no’s and encouraging whistles at the mention of you leaving. you blink back more tears to delay the breakdown you’re going to have. “thank you to my friends who always show up for me.”

with a knowing smile, you glance over at tom. “and, thank you to my more than a friend.” he smiles back, both hands held over his heart. harry elbows him in congratulations. more screaming erupts from the crowd as they realize where you’re looking and who you’re looking at. this will be sure to spark some headlines. whatever, you’re used to trending on every possible social media platform by now.

“this is the big one,” you preface, taking in a breath while everyone quiets down again. “thank you to you guys. for trusting me, for caring about what i have to say in any way. i feel your love. i really do, and i hope you feel mine.” your fans yell that they love you back, dancers gently swaying you side to side, emotions on high. there’s one last song, and it’s over.

“this has been the sensation tour, and i’ve been your host. was i good?” you try to lighten the mood, earning a bunch of what sound like positive shrieks. the earpiece you have in makes it hard to tell. “y’all were even better.” exchanging looks with your dancers, you pull out of the hug so you can get to your mark for the finale. they follow your lead. music comes through the speakers.

“i’ll see you again soon, okay? i promise. here’s sensation,” you introduce the song, immediately bursting into more tears. it’s torture to say goodbye. thankfully, you have the most incredible fans on earth, so they sing along with you at the top of their lungs. that includes tom and harry, your ultimate stans.

when the show is over, you run right off stage and over to tom. he’s waiting on the side with actual heart eyes for you. you practically leap into his arms, a hand cradling the back of his head, both his arms draped low and tight around your body.

“you were so amazing up there! absolutely smashed it, darling,” tom breathes out. his face is smushed between your neck and mostly bare chest. “thanks, tom. seriously, thanks for being here tonight and every other.” you smile a tired smile and wind your other arm around his neck. he presses some light you’re welcome kisses to your skin. “mm, thanks for having me. how’s it feel to be done?”

you sigh, fingers running through his curls. “like the biggest relief, and also really sad.” you’re such a mess that you could cry again on the spot. tom senses it and lifts his head up to see if you’re alright. “super depressing,” you surprisingly reiterate without the waterworks. “i know the feeling. you’ll be back soon, though. you said it,” he murmurs, a grin on his lips as they brush against the corner of yours.

you’re about to kiss him properly, then one of your dancers comes up to you. you’d forgotten that there are still stage managers and security everywhere, too. you get completely lost in tom whenever you’re together.

“you killed, babe,” coco greets you, linking your arm in hers. tom takes the hint and lets go of you. he watches on with a smirk. “nah, you murdered,” you send the compliment back and bite your lower lip. “i dunno, i feel like someone murdered me!” there’s coco with her dramatics. she’s genuinely hilarious, your shared sense of humor playing a huge part in your friendship.

she brings your free hand to her heart. you gasp at how fast it’s going. “that shit is really beating, coco. are you, like, okay?” “probably not. it was the freestyle that got me.” coco went a lot harder than usual tonight, since it was her last big dance break for a while. she puffs air from her cheeks and nods to tom. “this your man?”

“yeah, you could say that. i’m tom,” he answers, holding out a hand for her. “coco.” she pulls it like you would in a handshake. you beam at them, one of your best friends and unofficial boyfriend finally meeting. “sounds promising. i approve,” coco mutters to you. bumping your hip into hers playfully, you take one of tom’s hands in both of yours.

“aw, we have your blessing or something? your permission?” you coo and get a push at your shoulder from coco in return. tom chuckles, his thumb running over the back of your hand. “no! i was gonna say you should bring him out back,” coco clarifies, like it was obvious. you’re not sure what she’s on about. “uh, what’s out back?” you question. “an axe?” tom teases.

coco gestures to the nearest exit. “we’re having a little goodbye party in the parking lot. fire pit, snacks. remember?” nope, you’d completely forgotten. the idea first sounded like the perfect way to end your night, so you agreed to go. that was before you were dripping sweat and mentally exhausted. now, all you want to do is unwind with tom and tom only.

the superstar life is one you’re happy to lead, just not at this exact moment.

“i do now.” you muster up your most apologetic smile for coco, tugging on tom’s hand. “i’m sorry, co. i think we’re gonna pass.” her jaw drops. you’re never one to skip these things. “aw, for real? it’s our last night!” tom threads his fingers through yours while you talk. “bro, we’ve been together for almost a whole year,” you laugh out, nuzzling your cheek into tom’s chest. “get sick of me.”

“never,” coco deadpans. she catches you gazing up at tom, relaxing as his arms hug your middle. she’s known you long enough to tell what’s a fling and what’s real love for you. this is something special, and she can’t get in the way of it. she’ll let you navigate this yourself. “ok, just for tonight. you’ll text me?” coco gives you a real smile, raising an eyebrow at tom. he gathers that’s a good thing. he’s in.

“mhm. maybe we can hang out tomorrow,” you agree and let your eyes flutter shut. all that’s keeping you up are tom’s strong arms. “tell everyone i love them.” “i think they know.” coco shakes her head lightheartedly. tom laughs at her. “be good,” she tells him and means it, rubbing your back on her way to the lot. that leaves you and tom alone at last.

custodians are cleaning up the arena, fans are piling out, and you’re clinging to tom while his steady heartbeat grounds you. this is the only after party you need.

“harry’s got the car when you’re ready,” tom mumbles, tucking a piece of damp hair behind your ear. you loop your arms around his torso with a hum. “i was kinda wondering where he went.” “yeah?” he gives you a small smile. “gotta ask what he thought... of the show.” yawns are creeping past your lips, tonight’s events catching up to you.

“i like feedback from the fans, or stans,” you elaborate in your sleepy state. tom uses his fingertips to tap your temple. “what about me? i’m your biggest.” “i’ll, um, follow up with you later.” your words are slurring. “right now, home.” warmth spreads throughout tom’s entire body, his house becoming yours for a bit. “your chariot awaits,” he affirms before helping you to your dressing room.

after collecting your things, you follow tom out to the car. harry is in the driver’s seat, and you two slip into the back. he exchanges a look with his brother through the mirror while you settle on his shoulder. you’re hugging his bicep, his lips pressing to the side of your head.

“thank you for driving,” you speak softly to harry. he starts to pull out of the spot with a nod. “no problem. get to say i was y/n y/l/n’s chauffeur.” tom clicks his tongue even though harry is joking. you snicker at his remark, joking back. “you want the job? better be a five star ride, then.” your banter brings yet another smile to tom’s face. his family is everything to him, so seeing you get along so well means the most.

“right, right. did you have a good time?” harry wonders, twisting to see behind him while he turns around. he also peeks at you snuggled up to tom before facing forward. “great, actually. did you?” you check, the grin clear in your voice. harry goes into full stan mode. “no shit! you were brilliant, y/n. god, every note was just like how you did it the studio.” he’s raving, which is much appreciated by you.

“good answer.” tom shoots his brother a wink. “‘s that what you wanted to hear?” he asks in reference to your conversation earlier. your response is a kiss to his shoulder. “yay. i’m happy you liked it, harry.” he buzzes with excitement, having his favorite artist care what he thinks.

not much is said for the rest of the drive. tom and harry make some hushed conversation about golfing this weekend while you struggle to stay awake. they’re obsessed with that damn sport. it’s honestly nice to see, that tom has something he likes to do when he isn’t shooting hollywood’s biggest movies. your free time will finally give you the chance to discover other hobbies.

you stumble out of the car upon arriving to the boys’ place, a backpack on your shoulders and tom’s hand held tight in yours. you’ve got only a few essentials with you for tonight. the rest is on the tour bus, so you’ll gather it after your hangout with coco. besides, everything you need at the moment is right here.

“home sweet home,” tom announces as harry unlocks the front door. his words bring a tired smile to your face. “finally,” you exhale, keeping your fingers laced with tom’s and following the two of them inside. “i could show you around a bit, give you the grand tour. or-“ tom stops talking, feeling your weight on him. harry huffs at how oblivious his brother is.

“mate, she’s falling over. save it,” he suggests and kicks the door shut lazily. you’re done in. you’ve been having to lean on tom since the show ended. “another time, then,” tom mumbles, securing his arm around your waist. “there is one thing i wanna see.” your voice is low, body curled into tom’s side. he raises an eyebrow. “and that is?” “your room.”

tom takes that in a suggestive way, like he does most things. “we’re getting right to it, are we?” he questions, harry gagging and you nudging his arm with your head. “not like that, dummy. ‘cuz i’m sleepy.” there’s a beat of silence. “ask me again in-“ “wow, look at the time!” harry interrupts so he doesn’t have to hear the details. he’s sure he’ll witness enough after it happens. “off to bed i go! goodnight.”

he rushes to get to his room, yelling out, “great show, y/n!” on the way. “thank you! night!” you call back, tom letting out a sigh. “div of the century,” he says under his breath. “must run in the family,” you playfully retort. that gets you a firm poke at your side. “where’s everyone else?” you glance up at him. there should be two other idiots and a lovely, furry lady running around.

“tuwaine’s gone to the pub, harrison’s filming late, and tess is at mum and dad’s,” tom fills you in, grabbing your arm and draping it around his middle. doing him one better, you hug him with both. you squint in confusion about the last part. “they watch her when i’m out,” tom answers your unspoken question. “ah,” you nod, then deflate ever so slightly. “i wanted to meet her, though. the other boys, too.”

tom smooths the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “you will, darling. it’s only for tonight.” he kisses the same spot reassuringly. “we’ve got loads of time.” “yeah, we do,” you agree, instantly cheering up and letting your head fall onto his chest. “now, where’s your room?” “just upstairs. you need some help getting in?” he’s only playing around, but you accept, tightening your arms around his neck.

“show me the way,” you beam at him. “happy to.” tom wiggles his eyebrows, you jumping up. your legs wrap around his waist, his arms holding you against him. with a satisfied hum, you squish your face into his insanely soft shirt. “what a diva,” tom sarcastically complains while taking you to the staircase. “doesn’t even say please. no manners from this one.”

“you try dancing in six inch heels for two hours,” you shoot back, patting the side of his neck. he moves one hand down to your thigh for a better grip. you’re nearing the top of the stairs. “think i’ll leave that to you,” he decides and squeezes your thigh. “look at me, carrying the whole music industry.” your face easily gets hot and your words turn to murmurs. “shut up. you should listen to other songs.”

you’re on the second floor now, tom going for the first door. he frowns at his rejected compliment. “no, i like yours. they’re my favorite.” “really?” your muffled laugh sounds from his chest. “what was the first thing i ever said to you?” he asks, a toothy grin on him even though you can’t see it. you recall the faithful night he slid into your dms while he carries you into his room.

he’d tripped over his words somehow, the fangirling fool. before that, he tweeted to the whole world that he wanted to see you in concert. it was a huge thing, and people were freaking out about it, even more so when your online interactions became routine. that’s nothing compared to where you are now.

you’re currently living with him and basically dating. possibly, in love. the base of it all really is your music.

“that you love me.” you pause for the ellipses. the corners of your lips turn up. “but, you really meant to say my work.” “both apply.” tom passes that off like it’s a side comment, carefully laying you down on his bed. you look up at him with a curious glint in your eyes. “what does that mean?” his cheeks flush, and he bites back the smile that’s growing. this was supposed to go... differently.

you sit up, breathing out a laugh at tom’s boyish behavior. he’s precious, truly. “you do love me?” those three words will change everything if he says yes. he takes both your hands in his and holds them between you two. you meet his doe eyes. “yeah, y/n/n. i do.” so, you were right. “i love you... and, that wasn’t how i planned on saying it.” signaling for him to elaborate, you tilt your head to the side.

tom sits down next to and faces you before continuing. “it was supposed to be romantic, right?” he rolls his eyes up to the ceiling, annoyed he ruined this. “candlelit dinner, flowers, that sort of thing. seems more fitting for the occasion.” you shift closer to him until your knees are touching. your face is lit up, voice dropped to almost a whisper.

“since when do we do things the way we’re supposed to?” you point out and set your hands on his shoulders. “we’ve gone straight from online dating to me moving in. that’s usually not how it works.” tom chuckles lowly. his own hands find their place on your hips. you’re so good with words. then again, you are a singer. “guess you could say we’re, um, spontaneous,” he agrees, fingers drawing circles on you.

you and tom have explored some of each other’s most intimate places, yet you’ve never shared a moment quite like this. it’s like meeting him for the first time again. he’s too tongue tied to spit out what he wants. you somehow know, anyway. what you cherish most about your relationship is that you two completely and totally understand one another, on every level.

“tom?” you speak quietly, butterflies filling up your body. “hm?” he hums back. this is one of those moments where it all just clicks. “i love you. i really, really love you.” you giggle out of the pure happiness that consumes you, tom joining in your laughter. “i love you, too.” he sounds like he’s said it a million times and he’ll say it a million more. he leans over so his forehead rests on yours. “really, really love you.”

your warm breath hits his face, eyes darting from his own to his lips. “i want you to be more than...” you trail off, unsure of how to phrase it. “more than... more than a friend?” tom pokes fun at what you said during the show. there’s less and less space between you with every second. “you mean, like, a boyfriend?”

“exactly. be my boyfriend,” you all but demand. you’re half asleep and desperate to be able to call him yours already. “bossy, bossy, bossy,” tom chastises, swiping his thumb across your bottom lip. how he goes from being shy and giddy to the cockiest person alive in minutes, you’ll never know. “please?” you throw in to sway him. your hand locks with his, slowly moving it off your face.

you run your tongue over your teeth. “at least kiss me.” “you don’t have to ask,” tom breathes, lips now ghosting over yours. “i was going to.” true to his words, he closes the microscopic gap between you, you pushing forward against him as you kiss back. your first kiss in love. his lips taste like the chapstick he always uses, and he moves them softly.

he places a hand on your knee, you opening your mouth so he can have access to it. instead, a yawn exits. tom pulls back with a breathy laugh. “you must be exhausted, yeah? let’s get you to bed.” he pecks your lips once more. “my girl needs her beauty rest.” that confirms your relationship. you scrunch your nose and grin wide. “and, she’s gonna get some with her boy.”

you’re reminded of how sweaty you are when you catch a whiff. “oof, wait. do you think i can take a shower first?” you grimace, fanning at the air for emphasis. tom uses the tip of his nose to nudge yours. “absolutely. need help in there, too?” he’s not asking in that way, only so nothing happens. the hospital wouldn’t be the most pleasant place to spend your break. plus, he doesn’t want to be without you too long.

“you know what? yeah.”

that’s how you end up intertwined under the hot water, letting it cascade down your back as tom hugs you close to him. you sigh in content and tangle your fingers in his fluffed over curls. you’ve learned that he’s super into having his hair played with. it’s endearing, how he instinctively leans into your touch, eyes closing as you tug on the roots.

he drops his head down to kiss your shoulder, dragging his lips to your collarbone in a way that tickles. they land on one of your breasts next. there isn’t anything sexual about it, only loving. just in case he gets too excited because it’s not uncommon he does, you gently put a finger to his lips. tom takes the hint and lets up. you continue combing through his wet hair while you step out of the water.

“do you ever sing in the shower?” he questions, drawing your naked body in closer to his. “sometimes, yeah. i honestly feel like i sound better there,” you admit and slide your hand down to the nape of his neck. tom’s tongue darts out to lick his lips. “not true. you sound beautiful everywhere, and don’t fight me on this one.” he smirks in satisfaction, you groaning at your loss.

“i really enjoy hearing your voice when it blares through an arena, though,” tom keeps buttering you up. you shake your head and settle both arms around his neck. “man, i just love you so much.” “i love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs back, you switching places so he can give his hair a final rinse. you watch him and his glowing body, admiring the sight.

“what a sensation you are,” you say mostly to yourself, which doesn’t stop him from hearing. “i see what you did there.” he eyes you while you do the same to him. your arms still around his neck pull him back to you. “tommy? do you sing in the shower?” you meant to ask him before, then he started throwing all those compliments at you.

tom scoffs, walking you back so you’re against the wall. “i don’t sing anywhere.” “what?” you gasp and put a hand on his chest. “you’re lying, you have to be. wasn’t billy elliot a musical?” he narrows his eyes at you as he tries to gage where you’re going with this. “that i did a decade ago, and way before puberty. couldn’t sing a word without cracking after that.”

your mouth is left hanging open in shock and disappointment. you bet he has a nice voice, and he’s downplaying it. “y/n,” tom begins, cupping your jaw with his palm. “since we’re living together now, there’s a lot you’re going the learn about me. good things, weird things.” he shrugs casually. “this is one of the weird things.”

“only because you make it weird! come on, let me hear you,” you request and wrap a leg around his waist. you’re giving him a hopeful smile. “god, no. you’ll hate it,” he almost laughs, a hand on your thigh. “i’m literally a singer. how could i hate something i love?” you refute, batting your lashes at him. “especially when someone i love is doing it.” “i love you, too. but, i’m not.” he’s quick to shut you down.

“drop a bar!” you try to coax him, which he already has a comeback for. “you first.” “i can’t. my throat is all scratchy from earlier,” you lie. tom presses his lips into a line, feigning pity. “aw, you know what’ll make you feel better? tea. i’ll go get you some.” he turns to shut the water off, so you grab his shoulders. “no, the steam is working. you can stay.”

“love,” tom addresses you in a warning tone that you can’t take seriously. he can’t either, a giggle escaping him. “my voice is shit. ask anyone, and they’ll tell you.” “i won’t believe them,” you hum, pushing back curls sticking to his forehead. “sounds like you just have stage fright. we can work on that, though.” “how?” he tightens his arm around your middle.

“i’ll bring you on for my next show. we’ll do a little duet.” you’re joking, though that would definitely be interesting to see unfold. “uh, never. what happened to you being tired?” tom cleverly deflects and digs his fingers into your side. you look down in defeat. “i forgot about that.” “yeah, yeah. no, seriously. we should really get to sleep, y/n/n.” he’s back to his sweet, attentive self. “‘s been a long night.”

giving in with a nod, you capture his lips in yet another kiss. tom never gets tired of them, and neither do you. you break it after a few seconds, lips lingering on his as they detach. “carry me?” you ask again, not caring how whiny you sound. tom presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “oh, you’re adorable. of course.”

well, you’ve found something to keep you occupied until the next leg of tour. you’re going to discover the many layers your intriguingly unusual boyfriend has.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland request #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader

469 notes · View notes

whoreiaki-kakyoin · 3 years

Text

Alt-bacchio Headcanons- Alt/Punk Abbacchio x Gender Neutral Reader

I’m still majorly brainrotting for Abbacchio as the hot older brother of your best friend Narancia? So enjoy some thoughts I keep having. (For reference, I got the idea for 1. Abbacchio's general look/vibe and 2. the older brother type dynamic from this awesome comic by gaminegay)

You and Narancia are good friends, probably having met through school or at mutual hangout spots. I imagine you both being at least college age, with you a little older than Narancia and Abbacchio a few years older than you

One day, you come over, and Abbacchio answers the door, silver hair tied back, headphones slung around his neck, lipstick and eyeliner and several piercings in his ears, and you think you might swoon. He acts indifferent, but you don’t miss the quick once-over he gives you as he grunts out a, “you’re Narancia’s friend? Well come in, then, he’s upstairs.”

“Okay, what the fuck, you never told me you had a brother!”

“Eh, yeah, we're not blood related, but Leone's a good big bro. He’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but he’s pretty chill.”

Leone usually excuses himself with an eye roll when Narancia is having friends over? Just does his own thing? Yet after you come over one day and he gets a glimpse of you, suddenly he hangs around more

Narancia goes to point this out (genuinely not intending anything by it, he just thinks it’s weird), and Abbacchio roughly elbows him in the side mid-sentence to shut him up

“Why are you even hanging around so much, you usually hate being around when my friends are ov— OW!” “No, I don’t, stop being a brat.”

He gives you a wolfish smile when he sees you’re blushing after that. Narancia is too busy cursing out his brother to notice.

Sometimes he’ll come in with his hair tied up in a messy bun and wearing a tight tank top after a workout and…. You really do try your best not to let Narancia catch you staring

Because honestly, you feel a little guilty. Nara’s one of your best friends, and wouldn’t he think it’s gross if he found out you had the hots for his older brother?

But it’s not like he’s that much older. Only a few years. So maybe it wouldn’t be weird? No, best to forget it, you’re overthinking.

But that doesn't stop your heart from skipping a beat when Leone leans over you to grab a blanket on movie night or a video game controller if he’s joining you two for a game. Does this bastard honestly have to sit right next to you on the couch? There’s plenty of room!

Leone does not care. You’re so cute when he leans over you so that his chest is almost pressed against you… trying to hide the way your breath catches in your throat and keep from blushing. He’ll give you a casual shrug and a grin after, or a gravelly “sorry, doll” as he bites back a smirk and you try your best not to short circuit

I so think modern au/big brother Abba is into alt/punk types of fashion, so naturally it led to the thought that he plays in a punk band. He’s a bassist, but he probably does the occasional vocal feature, too. This means his fingertips are callused when they brush against yours mmm 👀

One time you come over when Narancia’s running late and Abbacchio is in the basement/the garage/whatever practicing with his band. When he lets you in, he tells you his brother isn’t home but that you’re welcome to hang while they practice. (You start coming over early now and then just for an excuse to watch)

Usually Leone shrugs off compliments about his playing, but when he asks, “so, what did you think, [bella/bello]?” And you excitedly tell him how great the band sounds, “and you especially!” he can’t help grinning and even blushing a bit.

Unbeknownst to you, his bandmates tease him ruthlessly because he always brushes off any groupies who try to flirt with him or compliment his music, yet here he is asking what you think of their songs, suggesting that you come check out their shows, even reaching around your back to guide your hands as he shows you how to play a few chords on his bass. And Abbacchio never lets anyone touch his bass.

“Like this, see? You want your fingers curved a bit over the fretboard, like this… yeah, exactly.” Seriously, Abbacchio repositioning and guiding your fingers, coaxing them to bend the right way with his steady hands as you feel his warm breath on your neck when he laughs. Fuck.

Sometimes the others will ask if his [girlfriend/boyfriend] is coming to practice to watch him blush as he snaps that he doesn’t know what they’re talking about because you aren’t dating.

Leone makes it a goal to flirt with you and sneak little looks or touches when Narancia’s back is turned, and it drives you crazy. It’s almost a little game to him to get you breathless and watch you blush

He has to get by you in the kitchen? His hand will linger on your waist and give a little squeeze. Sometimes he’ll scoot behind you in tighter spaces so he’s pressed right up against your ass for a moment

You feel zero remorse then when you wear something more revealing or do your makeup in a way that catches his eye.

“You look…. Really good today, [y/n]”

“Ew, gross, Leone, [he’s/she’s/they’re] too young for you!” “Shut up.” You blush as you tell Narancia that it's fine, really, and it was actually pretty sweet.

Play fighting for the “good” video game controller, Abbacchio using his long arms to hold it high over your head as you climb into his lap without even thinking to get a better reach. Suddenly you’re both much more focused on the compromising position, you straddling him and your faces inches apart. You stare at each other for a beat or two before you hear Narancia coming back in and shimmy off his lap. You get your ass kicked in whatever you’re playing because your brain is still rebooting from whatever the hell just happened.

You start shivering during a movie night and try to act like you’re not cold? He’s trying to act casual as he rolls his eyes and offers part of the blanket he’s using with a gruff “here.” You scoot closer to snuggle up under the blanket, but you’re more focused on the smell of his cologne and his shampoo than the movie now.

Bonus points if you end up in a really close position as you both get comfy and sleepy. Your head lolling onto his chest as you blink groggily and swear that you’re not sleepy? Excellent. Narancia will tease you if you fall asleep on each other. Expect photos.

If you show up to one of Abbacchio's shows? Pushing your way to the front row wearing some cute alt/punk look? God his heart is gonna stop right there

If he has a vocal feature on anything they’re playing that night, he will be singing straight to you.

Maybe, just maybe, he seeks you out after their set, pinning you up against the wall and making out with you. He gets black lipstick smeared all over you

Before you both sit down and talk about what it actually is you’re both doing and feeling, expect a few makeout sessions when Narancia isn’t home— Abbacchio pulling you into his lap and kissing you breathless.

When you eventually do tell Narancia you might be interested in Leone and you think he might feel the same, your friend just rolls his eyes. “Finally. Now you two can stop eye fucking across the room, it’s disgusting.”

But he’s smiling when he says that and he’s seriously happy for you guys. Once he’s certain of his brother’s intentions towards you, he’s entirely on board. You’re two of his favorite people in the world, and as long as you’re good to each other and you’re both happy, it’s fine by him

Once you’re officially dating, Abbacchio makes sure to get a good luck kiss from you before every concert.

Anyway, I wish I could draw because Abbacchio wearing ripped up black jeans with a chain or two… punk bassist Abbacchio who has plenty of piercings, maybe even a tongue piercing? He lives in my brain rent free and I want to make it everyone’s problem because I refuse to thirst alone

#I keep debating learning how to draw for set designs/costume sketches for plays #but plot twist what if I learn so I can draw Abbacchio as your hot alt boyfriend. Altbacchio if you will.#leone abbacchio x reader #leone abbacchio #abbacchio x reader #laur's writing #headcanons #altbacchio #Abbacchio 🖋✨

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sirtommyholland · 3 years

Text

Four Years of Birthdays

A/N: Hey everyone! This isn’t my first time writing for Harry but my first time actually posting it so I’m very excited! This is inspired by the little piece I wrote on Tom Holland’s birthday, I wanted to make a similar concept. Hope you guys like it, and happy birthday to our beloved baby boy Harry Styles! We love you so much!💜

Word Count: 2.4k (she tiny because I suck)

Summary: Harry’s four different birthdays with Y/N in differents points of his life.

Fluff all the way! with like a little talk about sexual themes because I had to.

poc friendly and plus size friendly (I think, please tell me if I made a mistake!) because we dont blush bright red or swim in men’s clothes in this house💫

2019 - 25th Birthday

Spending his birthday with Y/N was one of Harry’s favourite things. Over the last ten years of his life, she had missed quite a few of them as he was on the road and she was back home in London, going to uni and living a normal life. It was only the last couple of years that he was able to be home on his birthday, his solo career allowing him a bit more freedom to arrange his schedule as he wanted.

This year, he had wanted to have a quiet birthday, just with his family and close friends. And of course, his girlfriend, who was currently climbing on his back on the bed, trying to coax him out of sleep.

“Loviee” she whined into the back of his neck between kisses. “Wake up.”

“No.” his voice was deeper than usual as he groaned, trying to bury himself more into the pillows to avoid the bright sunlight in the room. “‘M sleepy.”

“But it’s your birthday.” she protested with a kiss to a small part of his cheek that wasn’t hidden away. “I need to give you your 25 kisses.”

“Just 25?” he frowned, raising his head from the pillow to look back at her. “That’s nowhere near enough! You kiss me more on a regular day.”

“Hmm..” she pretended to ponder his words, one of her hands going up to brush away the soft curls that fell on his forehead. “Then how about I give you a blowie for 25 minutes?”

Even if she couldn’t see his face, she would still be able to hear the grin in his voice. “Now that’s more like it.” He was turning over and laying on his back in a heartbeat, tugging at her thighs to make her straddle him again.

She complied, throwing one leg over his hips and gently sitting on thighs, not putting her full weight. She leaned down to softly brush her lips against his, once, twice, three times. “Happy birthday, baby.” she sighed against them, rubbing her nose against his lovingly.

“Thank you, angel.” he smiled, letting his hands roam over the soft material of her shirt. “I reckon it’s gonna be the best one so far.”

“Really? Is there a reason why?” she grinned, feeling like she already knew the answer.

“Because this is the first one I’m waking up with you as my girlfriend. Finally,” he sighed. “I can kiss you for real instead of making a wish for it when I blow out the candles.”

“You’re so cheesy.” she teased with a smile, leaning down to give him another kiss. “I still can't believe you wished for it.”

“Literally every year.” he confirmed, only blushing slightly under her loving gaze. “Honestly don’t know what I’m gonna wish for this time. It’s been the same thing for many years.”

“I’m sure you’ll come up with something.” She placed a final peck to his lips, then swiftly got up from his lap. “Now get up, your mum’s expecting us for breakfast.”

“But- but- my blowie!”

She looked back to see an adorable pout on his lips, one that she almost couldn’t resist. Almost.

“Later.” she promised, pulling him to his feet and laying a few kisses on his neck. “I’m gonna take care of you properly tonight, after your party. Along with your final present.”

“You’re a tease.” he breathed, the meaning behind her words not so hidden. She grinned, and trailed her hand softly down his back until she was grabbing his bum, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Heyy!” he jumped, trying to grab her before she made a run for the bathroom, and failing.

“Pick your outfit, it takes ages!” she yelled through the closed door, making him huff and fall back on the bed dramatically.

“Harry Edward Styles!” Well, guess she knew him too well.

“Yes, ma’am!”

2009 - 15th birthday

“Hello.”

Harry raised his head from the plastic cup he was refilling, to see a familiar girl looking at him with a friendly smile.

“Hi.” he smiled back as he straightened up, silently giving her the cue to go on.

“Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to say that I really liked your performance. You guys were incredible!”

“Oh, thank you! Of course you’re not bothering me. I’m glad to know you liked it.” He grinned. “We’re at the same school, right? I’ve seen you around before.”

“Yeah, but we’ve never actually talked, I think. I’m Y/N, by the way. Will invited me because I live next door.” she explained, nodding towards his bandmate that was currently hosting his birthday party/small concert in his garage.

“You don’t need to explain yourself! Next time, I’ll just have to make sure that I invite you myself.”

She grinned at his words. “That’s very nice of you, Harry. Oh, and happy birthday, by the way! I almost forgot.” Right, she was at his birthday party. She already knew his name.

“Thank you! And thanks for coming.”

Before she could open her mouth to say anything else, the lights were dimmed and the back entrance of the garage was illuminated with a soft, orange light as his friends brought in the cake. Off-key voices singing him happy birthday filled the space, and he made his way to his friends with a huge smile on his face, Y/N joining the small crowd around him as they waited for him to blow out the candles.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” one of his mates yelled just as he was leaning towards the cake.

“Sorry.” he chuckled, then closed his eyes to make his wish. I want to make music. For all my life.

Little did he know, that would be his only wish in the next ten years that didn’t involve the girl that he had just met.

2016 - 22th birthday

“I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling twenty-two! Everything will be alright if you keep me next to you!”

“What the fuck.” he muttered into his pillow, trying to figure out if he was dreaming or if his phone was actually ringing with a Taylor Swift song. But even when he was wide awake after a few minutes he could still hear her melodic voice, so he reached out with a groan and checked the caller ID. Of course.

“How did you manage to change my ringtone all the way from London?” he answered in a groggy voice.

“Well, good morning to you too, hun, took you long enough! I’m very good, thanks for asking! And I got Niall to do it yesterday, obviously.”

“... Morning Y/N.”

“Oh, stop grumbling, it doesn’t suit you. Get up and get ready, I’m gonna facetime you in thirty minutes.” And before he could say anything, she hung up on him.

He looked at this phone in disbelief. Did she just hang up on me on my birthday?! He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on his face. To be honest, there were a lot of things he couldn’t help when it came to her.

Half an hour later, when he was freshly showered and dressed, his phone rang with an incoming facetime call just like she said. She probably set an alarm for exactly thirty minutes, he thought fondly.

Her smiling face greeted him as he accepted the call. “Happy birthday, Haz!!”

“Thanks, love.” he chuckled, eyeing the tiny cupcake in front of her through the small screen. “Whatcha got there?”

“That’s your birthday cupcake, made it myself! Was tired of shitty store-bought cake.”

“I don’t know, it looks kind of ugly.” he joked, grinning at her mock-offended face. “I could do better. I worked in a bakery, ya know.”

“You literally just ran the register and washed the dishes.”

“Still, in a bakery!”

She was shaking her head at his shit-eating grin, but he could still see a soft smile playing at her lips. It caused his heart to flutter in his chest. What he wouldn’t give to see her smiling at him like that everyday.

“Anyway, candle time!” she piped, grabbing a lighter from somewhere behind the camera and lighting up the single candle on her tiny cupcake.

Harry watched her raise the cupcake closer to the camera and she instructed him to make a wish. This routine was familiar to them now. Every year, she would video call with a different type of cake, to make up for not being able to be there with him.

Harry closed his eyes, and made the same wish that he had been making for the last six years of his life. I wish you were mine.

He opened his eyes and blew lightly towards the screen, her actions matching his as she blew out the candle in his place. She gave a little cheer afterwards, and the brightness of her eyes warmed him up all the way down to his toes, even through a phone screen.

They talked for a while after that, catching up on each other’s lives and discussing the dates they would be able to meet up again. She hung up with a final ‘happy birthday, love you!’ and then he was left staring at his phone, a small smile still remaining on his face. I wish you were mine.

And later, when he logged onto his twitter account and tweeted some certain song lyrics, he only cared about one person’s reaction out of millions.

2018 - 24th birthday

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.”

Harry turned towards the kitchen door that led to the back garden, seeing her slide it close to make her way towards him.

“Just taking a breather, love.” he said, accepting his woolly coat that she handed him. “Thank you.”

“Didn’t want you to catch a cold.” She sat next to him on the wooden porch bench, wrapped up in her own fuzzy coat. There was another item in her hand, a thick, heavy looking box.

“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at it.

“Oh, I came here to give it to you. Your final gift.”

“Y/N.” he sighed. “The others were more than enough.”

“I don’t think this even counts as my gift, honestly.” She grinned at the puzzled look on his face. “Just open it.”

He did. Inside was a thick notebook, a scrapbook by the looks of it, that read ‘Happy Birthday Harry! - 2018’

He looked at her curiously, but she just smiled and told him to open it again. He turned to the first page, and ran his gaze across the page. His eyes widened in surprise. He quickly flipped a few pages to see that all of them had the same thing; printings. Printed screenshots from various social media platforms, of his fans wishing him a happy birthday.

“I know you don’t use social media a lot these days.” she explained as he kept reading the tweets glued onto the scrapbook. “But you were trending on Twitter today, and yesterday too, lots of people wishing you a happy birthday and telling how much they loved you. I thought you might want to see it.”

He let out a watery laugh, not being able to tear his gaze away from the book in his hands. He couldn’t help the tears, not really. She had taken the time to print out lots and lots of tweets, instagram posts, everything; she had cut them and put them in this book and added little stickers in between with colorful doodles. And she had done it to carry his fans’ messages to him, she had basically hand-delivered their gifts of love to him.

“Thank you.” he breathed, his voice catching in his throat. “This is… I think this may be the best gift I’ve ever received.”

“Well, like I said, it’s not technically from me. I just put some tweets together, your fans are the ones who wrote them.” She paused, then added. “I just wanted you to see just how loved you are. By everyone. You have such a kind heart, and an amazing soul; all of these people are aware of it and they love you for it.” She tapped the book in his lap, emphasising her words.

“Thank you.” he repeated himself, seemingly at a loss for words. He closed the book and carefully put it back in its box, intending to read everything in it later. He placed it beside him, then turned to her and pulled her in a hug.

Her arms were around him in a second, not hesitating to tighten around him and pull him closer. She was so warm even in the cold weather, and she smelled so nice, and he wouldn’t be able to pull back if he tried. He didn’t know how long they sat there in each other's embrace, but when he felt her starting to lean back, something in him shifted. He turned his head towards her as she pulled away, so his cheek was softly grazing hers. She stilled a bit, looking into his eyes as if she was looking for something, then she closed her eyes and turned the rest of the way, her lips meeting his in a gentle kiss.

His breath hitched in his throat as his lips slightly parted, a small gasp making its way out of them when he realized finally, finally he was kissing her. He was kissing Y/N. This was really happening.

He brought a hand up to gently cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her cheekbone as they kissed, probably the softest, the most incredible kiss of his life. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe how amazing she felt against him, how her hands in his hair felt just right, how warm her cheek was under his hand.

But despite every bone in his body wanting to kiss her forever, he was the first one to pull away, because he just couldn’t keep it in anymore. “I wish you were mine.”

“What?” she asked breathlessly, apparently still under the effect of their kiss.

“I wish you were mine.” he repeated. “That’s the wish I’ve made on every single birthday since I was sixteen. Everytime you looked at me and told me to make a wish, I was only able to think about how much I wanted to kiss you.”

She stared at him with parted lips, looking into his eyes like she was trying to figure out if he was messing with him. She could only see love and admiration.

“You’re an idiot, Harry Styles.” she breathed. Then, she cupped his face with her hands and kissed him again, and again, and again, and he felt like everything in his life was finally going to be okay.

some end notes: Sooo I’m sorry for the kind of shitty ending. It’s literally 3 am in Turkey rn and I have an early class but I just wanted to finish this quickly and post it before I went to bed. I haven’t written anything in months because I wasn’t 🌌feeling it🌌 so I basically bullied myself into writing this haha. This is my first posted Harry piece but there are a few other pieces I’ve been working on! (for months, literally. *sigh*)

If you liked it, please feel free to reblog and leave a teeny tiny feedback! Writers really appreciate it!💜

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #happy birthday harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #best friends to lovers #pining

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justauthoring · 3 years

Text

ACTS OF INTIMACY.

Prompt: Five acts of intimacy between you and Harry -- because those are the moments that truly count.

Please don’t plagiarize my work! Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader Word Count:1,899

1. THE FIRST TIME YOU HOLD HANDS.

Harry and you had just started dating. And while you were a good two weeks into your relationship, things still felt a little... awkward.

For lack of better wording.

It was mainly because the two of you had started out as friends. Really good friends. There was no one like Harry, and while the statement seemed plainly obvious, it was true. So much so, that you’d never had a friend like Harry and while the feelings for him had always been there, it felt entirely foreign and strange to act upon them.

Really, it was just you that found it strange.

Your time spent with Harry felt the same it always had; and it was that that made it hard to ever make any sort of acts of intimacy. He tried, of course he did, and he was always so respectfully understanding of when you shied away. Because you couldn’t help it.

Your stomach would erupt into butterflies and your heart would start pounding madly against your chest, and you shy away, turning your head to tuck your chin into your neck and hide your blushing cheeks away from him. And he’d just chuckle, pull back, and make some silly comment to ease your nerves.

But then the two of you are walking that one fateful day, and the entire time your eyes haven’t stopped flickering to his hands. You love his hands. And the urge to hold them has never been quite this great. Your feelings for him are starting to get the better of you and, of course, make more sense, and you’re no longer so confused between the line of platonic and not.

The sudden urge is just suddenly too great.

You subtly step towards him. Harry barely notices. And then your eyes flicker lower once again, and you feel your chest tighten in nerves even though the act is so simple and you know, you just do, that Harry won’t mind one bit. But thoughts are always hard to ignore, and you can’t help the way your insecurities slip past your defenses.

And then, then, his hand twitches and suddenly your fingers are threading through his own.

The moment stills, your eyes flicker upwards, meeting his own bright green ones which have turned to you in surprise at the touch. However, he catches the look in your eyes and his face eases, every bit of surprise fading, and his lips curve upwards and his eyes twinkle and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Harry this happy and it just warms your heart.

Knowing such a small act of holding his hands brought his this much joy.

He pulls your entwined hands towards his lips, pressing a kiss against the back of your own, and your stomach erupts in flutters.

After that, you always want to hold his hand.

And Harry doesn’t mind one bit.

2. YOU FORGOT YOUR PJ’S.

You’re spending the night at Harry’s.

It’s not the first time, but you’re definitely still getting accustomed to taking this next step in your guy’s relationship. You’ve been at his house plenty of times, you’ve even spent the night a time or two, but it’s a completely different thing going to his bedroom instead of the guest one and slipping under his covers instead of cold, strange ones.

Harry’s already in bed, waiting for you, when you realize you’ve forgotten a set of your own pajama’s.

You purse your lips in thought, frazzled, and you’re starting to wish you’d taken up Harry’s offer in just leaving some of your stuff at his place. He’d used the excuse ‘well, you’ll be spending a lot more time here anyway’ and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

Brushing back your hair, you slowly pull open the bathroom door, peeking your head into the bedroom. “Harry?” And his name leaves your lips in a soft, somewhat nervous whisper, finding his perched form on the bed already staring in your direction, as if he’d been waiting patiently (or maybe not so patiently) for you to come join him.

“Yeah, love?”

“I forgot some pajama’s.”

His eyes meet yours and his lips quirk into a smile. “You want to borrow a shirt of mine?” But before you even give him a proper answer, he’s standing up to grab you a shirt.

You purse your lips. “Only if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t, dove.” And there’s a pause, a moment of rustling in his closet, before he’s stepping towards you, a black shirt in hand. “Here.”

You accept it with a smile, excusing yourself for a moment more as you change quickly. When you step back out, in nothing more then Harry’s shirt now, Harry isn’t on the bed like you’d expected. You’re puzzled for a moment before a light gasp of surprise leaves your lips at the feeling of arms bounding round your middle.

You’re swept off your feet in a quick, simple stride, and you don’t land back on your feet, but instead your back, on Harry’s bed with him towering over you.

“You look dashing, darling.”

And your cheeks warm, scoffing at Harry. “I’m just wearing a shirt, Haz.”

“Yeah, but,” and his eyes lower, smiling. “It’s mine.”

“It’s definitely comfy.”

“Well,” and his voice is deep, husky, moving to roll over until he’s next to you. He, however, doesn’t hesitate to pull you flush against himself still, cuddling tightly to you. “You can borrow a shirt anytime.”

And now, you don’t need pajama’s because you one way or another, end up just wearing one of Harry’s shirts to bed.

3. HIS HANDS ON YOUR WAIST.

You’re reading a book when the music starts.

And you blink, eyes flickering upwards in confusion, having been under the impression that you’d been alone, before you find Harry stood before you. He’s got a goofy grin on his face, and he’s twirling around on his feet as he slowly but steadily makes his way towards you.

“Harry,” you laugh, shaking your head. “What’re you doing?”

He reaches you by then, taking your hand in his own as your book slides off your lap, landing on the floor with a soft thud as you’re swept up to your feet. Another giggle of confusion but amusement leaves your lips as he starts gently guiding you back with him, the grin never fading from his lips. “We,” he corrects, “are dancing.”

And then, you’re really swept off your feet as Harry pulls you flush against him with one simply tug, chest pressed against chest. His hands fall on your waist and you have no choice (though you’re not complaining) but to wrap your arms around his neck, laughing.

“Oh?” You question, raising a teasing brow. “I didn’t realize you were such an amazing dancer.”

“Haven’t you seen me perform on stage?”

He feigns hurt by your words and this time a loud, bellowed laugh leaves your lips as your head tilts back. Harry watches on with a fond grin, eyes softening with warmth as your laughter echoes about the room, masking the sound of the slow song he’d turned on for just a moment.

Harry could listen to you laugh for hours.

“When you’re not falling,” you shrug, “sure.”

“Hey!”

Shaking your head, your eyes crinkle with amusement. “So?”

And he blinks. “So?”

“Why’re we dancing?”

“What, can’t a boyfriend just want to slow dance with his girlfriend in the middle of their living room?”

You roll your eyes. “Sure he can.”

“Then,” he shrugs, tightening his grip on your waist. “That’s why.”

“Alrighty then,” you oblige, the grin never fading from your lips. “Spin me, Haz.”

And he’s all too quick to abide.

4. YOUR HEAD ON HIS SHOULDER.

You’d meant to have a movie marathon.

But somewhere along the way, maybe three, four hours in, your eyes had started to grow heavy and Harry’s comments started to lessen in between. His arm around your waist had slacked and your head kept tipping to the side as the urge to stay awake became harder and harder.

Eventually, and you’re not really exactly sure when, you finally lose the fight and your head falls against Harry’s shoulder, body relaxing. It’s a moment or two later, that Harry’s falls against your own, also asleep.

You awake at the credits rolling. You waking wakes Harry up. The both of you pull apart, blinking, confused for a moment, before your eyes turn to his.

“I think we fell asleep.”

You laugh gently at the grogginess of his voice, rubbing at your eyes. “I think we did too.”

A moment of pause echoes, you turn back to the tv. “I don’t even remember what movie we were watching.”

“Me neither,” Harry chuckles, pulling you closer. “I was out halfway through the second movie.”

“Was this three or four?”

“Four, I think.”

Another pause, your eyes drift to Harry. “We suck at all nighters.”

“And movie marathons.”

You laugh. “Should we head to bed?”

“As long as we cuddle.”

You stand, holding your hand out for Harry. “Well, of course,” you grin widely.

Because there’s not a night you two don’t cuddle.

5. EYES FROM THE CROWD.

It’s the first time you’ve been able to join him on tour.

You’re not sure whose more excited; you or him. He plans everything to a T. Making sure you have the best ‘seat’ available for his performance. He wants you to be able to see everything, ecstatic to perform for you, but he also wants to be able to see you amongst the crowd. He also wants to make sure you’re safe from the crowd.

Honestly, you think he goes a little above the beyond; but you don’t have the heart to tell him cause he’s just so excited.

And honestly, when the concert starts, you chide yourself on never having made more of an effort to join him on tour before. The entire night is magical. You’ve been to concerts before, but nothing beats the feeling of watching the man you love do what he loves; perform. His energy on stage in unbeatable and he seems to be on fire even more that night with you on crowd.

Your hearts warms and flutters and everything in between when he calls you out, dedicating a special song for you. Your favourite song of his.

He’s sung for you before. You’ve heard his songs before. But this is something you’ve never experienced, and Y/F/S just means something entirely different as you stare up at him, watching every little detailed of his lit-up, focused on face from your spot within the crowd. Watching the smile on his lips, watching the way his body moves to the beat, listening to how beautiful his voice sounds.

In disbelief that the song is just for you.

It feels like you’re in a dream.

And then his eyes meet yours and everything, everyone else seems to just fade away. The world goes crazy, the screams of the fans go away, and all you can hear is Harry, and all you can see is his eye staring back at you, full of love and warmth.

You never experienced something like it before.

Everything seems to just be said in his eyes, and no words need to be shared between either of you for the other to understand.

The moment is unlike any other.

Let me know what you thought?

#One Direction #One Direction imagine #One Direction x reader #Harry Styles #Harry Styles imagine #Harry Styles x reader #Harry imagine #Harry x reader #imagine #imagines #my fics

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snlhostharry · 3 years

Text

rose blush

harry styles x reader

4.5k words

you and harry meet in a small coastal town as your both running away from your responsibilities

a/n: this is loosely based on gold rush by taylor swift, but honestly this story is 50% plot 50% vibes y’know. also i’m obsessed with the concept of seeing harry after a long time apart at one of his concerts as he sings the song he wrote about you like that exact concept has been in multiple fics I’ve written so yeah

Coffee shops are supposed to be a refuge from the outside world. Not your usual starbucks, no you mean the small town coffee shop filled with plants and little to know patrons. The bell on the door jingles briefly as patrons come in and out on occasion. Everyone too wrapped up in their own lives and their own coffee orders to notice you: it’s really perfect. As you type aimlessly on your computer. You’re not paying any attention to the people who come in and out of the small shop, your hyperfocused on the computer and the piles of papers and binders set out in front of you at the table.

That is until someone walks in that no one expected to see. A man enters the shop quietly, wearing a black beanie and a gray hoodie with the hood pulled up over his head. You don’t think anything of him until you hear the barista say, “Oh my gosh your-” And then she cuts herself off as the man nods. You find yourself glancing up at him frequently as he stands at the counter waiting for his order. As it turns out, it’s just a black coffee, and as he says thank you for his drink in an accent that might just give him away he passes you to walk out of the shop.

He glances over at you and your piles of binders at your feet, and the strewn papers on your desk as he heads towards the door. His precursory glance makes him curious about you, and his curiosity gets the better of him and he takes a good long look at you. You meet his eyes briefly, the green orbs capturing all of your attention in a moment that feels long more than anything else. You recognize him and pull your eyes away quickly to fix them back on the computer.

He shakes his head and walks out of the door coffee still safely in hand.

You’re looking at the computer, but your mind is going twenty miles a minute. Harry Styles is in Capitola, and that’s okay right? You think then that fact isn’t going to change anything about what you're here to do and what you’re supposed to be thinking about. Celebrities probably pass through here all the time, it’s nothing new, probably. If you keep telling yourself that then maybe it’ll become true.

Harry Styles seems to like the coffee from this place. Day after Day after Day for what you think is a week, he comes in to get his black coffee, The odd thing about it is he always comes in at different times, sometimes at ten in the morning, sometimes at three in the afternoon, and at all times in between. It’s odd for you because you always come in for a set amount of time from nine in the morning until four in the afternoon everyday at the exact times. You’d read an article that routine is key to productivity so you’d decided to stick to it.

On the eight day of making an appearance at the shop, this time at noon exactly Harry stops before he heads out of the door. He hasn’t really looked at you since the first time (not that you were looking at him to see if he was looking at you or anything you’re just looking for a distraction and curious about what he’s doing) but on the eight day he stops fully. He stands there for a moment being very creepy if you're being honest and then he sits down across from you.

“What are you doing?” He says, accent abounding. He flashes a smile at you, and sits his coffee down on the table, a sign you take to mean that he’s going to stay for a while.

You stare at the computer for a bit longer, thinking maybe it will make him go away but he says. You look at him, struggling to meet his eyes for some reason, and then say, “I’m writing.”

He lets out a small breathy laugh, fully aware that you’re not going to give him the answers he wants. “Why do you come here to write?”

“Because it’s quiet, and there are limited distractions,” You tell him. You lean in closer to him and half whisper, “Except of course for the former one direction member who comes in everyday for only a black coffee.” You go back to staring at your computer, satisfied with yourself.

He's interested in you, and if you weren’t trying to ignore him so much you would be able to notice. “What’s wrong with a black coffee?”

“It’s boring,” You say instinctively.

“It’s a classic.”

“I thought the English were more into tea than anything else.”

“I need the caffeine,” He explains.

You hold up your reusable cup, filled halfway with a green liquid. “Matcha tea, it’s caffeinated.”

He wrinkles his nose, “It’s green.”

“Don’t be a child,” You say with a smile on your face. When you realize that your smiling at him, you quickly fix your face and stare back at the document in front of you even though there’s no way that you could possibly get anything done on it now.

“What would you suggest I try then?” He says, trying to get you to talk to him again.

You click your tongue, trying to think of something. “If you need the caffeine why don’t you try a latte? Cinnamon is a good flavor.”

“A latte?” He says, wrinkling his nose again, “That’s not even coffee.”

“It has expresso,” You say, “And it’s not boring for one thing.”

He huffs, “I don’t know if I can trust your taste.”

“Then don’t,” You shrug.

“So you’re just not going to tell me what you're writing then?” He says, “You’re going to leave me wondering every time I walk in here and see you sitting at this same table.”

You smile at him sarcastically, “Yes.”

He stands up from the table suddenly and says, “Guess I will have to get more creative then.” He doesn’t even wait for a response from you as he picks up his coffee and heads out of the door, the little bell ringing again as he leaves. You look up from the computer and across from you at the seat he just vacated. Something passes over you, maybe a feeling of anxiety or somewhat of a realization that someone famous just talked to you, talked to you about coffee and what you were writing. You didn’t expect that to happen, and you’re not sure if you like it or not.

The next day, you're in the same place, with another cupful of Matcha Tea when Harry walks in. You expect him to follow the same routine, order a black coffee and then leave. That day, he changed his order. You almost don't believe your own ears when you heard him say, “I’ll have a latte, cinnamon and vanilla please.” You try to think that it has nothing to do with you, that maybe he just wanted to change his order naturally or he has a friend who wants that order. But when he receives it and comes over to sit across from you again, you realize that he did change it for you.

“What’s in a latte anyway?” He asks with the same smile.

You sigh, trying to seem uninterested, but the sudden feeling is back. “Espresso and milk I think.”

“You think?” He asks, the surprise in his voice evident.

“I’ve never had one,” You try and keep your sudden urge to laugh under control. You laugh, louder than you meant to at last and instead of looking at you with some kind of horrified look he just smiles.

He shakes his head, “You think you’re funny don’t you?”

“I don’t know about that, I just thought you knew I was being sarcastic.”

“I will have you know I took your words as a dare.”

“Why would you ever think that?”

“Because I grew up with an older sister.”

“Well I’m an only child so, you miscalculated, Mr. Styles.”

He takes a sip of his coffee and muses, “Hmm.” Then he seems to suddenly taste the Latte and almost spits it out. A look crosses his face that you wish you could’ve gotten a picture of and then he tries to recover before saying, “It’s good.”

“Really?” You take a long sip of your tea. “Because it looked like you're regretting your decision to challenge me.”

He shakes his head and takes another sip, making the same face. “No, in fact I’m happy that you encouraged me to make this change. This is delicious.”

You narrow your eyes, “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Do you want to try it?” He asks, holding out the cup to you.

“First off, the amount of germs that would spread is astronomical,” You smile at him, “Secondly yes of course I do.” You take the cup from his hands, “How could I not when you made that oscar worthy face while drinking it?” You peel the lid off the cup and take a sip of the drink. The first thing you state is a frightening amount of sweetness, and then the foam gets caught on your mouth. Lastly comes the sudden shot of espresso as the mess of flavors is finished. You hand the cup back to Harry after putting the lid on and say, “Coffee is gross.”

“That’s not coffee,” He offers, “If you were to try a black coffee you would see.”

“Black coffee is gross,” You tell him, giving him your full attention. “I’ve had it and it’s all bitter.”

He tilts his head to the side for a moment, “Can I ask you something?”

“You’re going to whether I say yes or not.”

“Why are you here?”

“You asked me that last time.”

“Not here like, in town.”

You’re surprised, “Oh.” You cough and then say, “I needed a change of scenery.”

“To write whatever you’re writing?”

“Yeah,” You eye him right back, “What are you doing here, aren’t you supposed to be a world famous pop star?”

He leans back into his chair, “I think of myself as more of a rock and roller.” He folds his hands together on top of the table, “I needed a change of scenery too,” He says earnestly.

You click your tongue and turn back to your computer, “Something tells me that’s going to be the only thing that we have in common.”

He shakes his head, “There’s more than you think I’m sure.”

“Oh yes,” You say sarcastically, “Harry Styles and the mysterious girl at the cafe he frequents, i'm sure we have a lot of shared life experience.”

“You’re so contrary.”

“You’re so hopelessly optimistic.”

He taps his fingers against the table, “I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“Good for you,” You shoot back. You can’t see it, because you’re trying to focus your attention back on the computer but he’s smiling at you in a way that he hasn’t before. It’s not a smirk, or something sarcastic or even patronizing. If you were looking you would know that he sees something in you, but you’re not looking. When he gets up and leaves you turn to him and say, “Until next time then.”

He looks at you curiously and then nods.

The next day you’re still at your spot but noticeably without your computer or your piles of books. Quite simply you're stumped on your writing, you don’t know where to go to what to do and although you wouldn’t say it outloud it makes you incredibly angry. The reason why you don’t have your computer with you is because you’d gotten so mad at the thing the night before you thought you might break if you didn’t take a beat of separation. Even though the entire situation obviously isn’t the computer's fault, it’s your fault.

So you sit, mindlessly scrolling through tik tok, trying to think of something to do to keep your mind off the fact that this whole trip could've been for nothing and you’ll never get it finished. Unfortunately the best thing you can think of is the thing that you're already doing, sitting in the same shop that you’ve been sitting in day after day. You wonder if the employees have begun to get annoyed with you, or if they talk about you on their breaks and wonder why you’re always covered in papers or why you type vigorously on your computer keys.

Harry walks in and you look at him immediately before just as quickly moving your eyes back to your phone. He does the same thing he does everyday, gets his order (this time the regular black coffee), and then sits down across from you.

“What happened?”

“I seem to have hit some writers block,” You say, “I had to extricate myself from the work or I would’ve committed computer murder.”

“Computer murder?” He repeats with a small sly smile.

“Do you want to get out of here?” You say suddenly, then correct yourself, “Like talk a walk by the beach or something.”

He looks surprised but he says, “Yes,” right away. Then he pauses and says, “But you have to tell me your name, or what you’re writing.”

You stand up from the table, tea clutched in your hand. “I will do you one better,” You hold your hand for him to shake, “I’m y/n.”

“That’s a pretty name,” The smile on his face seems immoveable.

You roll your eyes, “Flattery will get you nowhere with me.” You start to walk out of the door and he follows you right out onto the sidewalk. The town is small, and the main street is very close to the beach. It only takes a minute or two to get onto the beach and when you do you turn to him and say, “I’m writing my graduate school thesis.”

“Huh,” He says, clearly thinking about something.

You shove your hands into your pockets, “What did you think I was writing?”

“A novel,” He answers quickly.

You laugh out loud, “Seriously? What kind of book?”

“I don’t know,” He laughs a little too, “One of those steamy romance ones.”

“Oh my god,” You say, laughing again. “You thought I was writing one of those honry romance books that gets made into a movie that makes everyone uncomfortable? I don’t know wether to laugh or cry that you would think that about me.”

“Well you wouldn’t tell me, so I had to get creative.”

“Just to make sure that you don’t have to get creative anymore,” You start, “I am writing my master's degree thesis on aerospace engineering.”

He stops walking and just stares at you, “Fuck. You’re a genius.”

“If you read the thesis you would not think that,” You shake your head, “And before you ask if you can read it no you cannot.”

He laughs, “Darn.”

“I’m not a writer,” You say as the two of you continue to walk, “I am a builder, and a math person, this is literal torture.”

“So you came all the way out here to-?”

“Try and see if getting away from the pressure helps at all.”

“Is it working?”

You shrug, “Why did you come out here?”

“Writer's block,” He says, and for a moment you think he’s mocking you but then you see the look on his face.

“Really?” You say.

He sighs, “Usually the ideas just come to me, but I’ve not nothing.”

“So you decided to disappear to a small coastal town?”

“Don’t sound so contrary,” He says, “You did the same thing.”

“Is the word contrary on your word of the day calendar or something?” You accuse him, “Or do you just like the way it sounds coming out of your mouth?”

He turns to you, for a moment, doesn’t say anything and just licks his lips. “I think that you like the way it sounds.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure that you're used to thinking that every girl you’ve ever met has been in love with you, but for the record I am not.” You continue, “And not in the way that I don’t date because no one has ever loved me before, just in the way that you live a different life than me.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just nods slowly and the two of you walk in silence for a while. After a while, he clicks his tongue and says, “Aerospace engineering, huh? Do you want to work for NASA then?”

You dig your foot into the stand, hands still clenched in your pockets, “I have an offer from them, but I can only go to work with them if I graduate and to graduate I have to finish this godforsaken thesis.”

He stops walking and steps in front of you, almost causing you to run into him. “The only thing standing in between you and your dream is one essay.”

“One monster essay,” You correct him, “One monster essay that then has to go through edits after I finish seventy five pages.” You cross your arms over your chest when it’s clear that he’s going to stand in front of you as he thinks about something.

“That’s something,” He says, and narrows his eyes at you briefly. You wish you could know what he’s thinking about, because you’re not sure what he means by what he just said.

You roll your eyes again, “Nice to know my personal life makes interesting fodder for your songs. Am I going to be the next Carolina?” You turn on your heels and start walking the opposite way down the beach, you start walking pretty fast and it seems like he’s still in thought because it takes him a while to catch up with you.

“You’re reading too much into it,” He says.

“Am I though?” You don’t even look at him, you just keep walking. “It’s your MO isn’t it? You like girls, or maybe you don’t, they fall in love with you and one way or another they end up immortalized for a bunch of teenage girls and the recording academy to listen to.”

“And you think you know everything about me?” He offers.

You spin around and plant your feet in the sand, causing Harry to run right into you. He barrels right into you, and sends both of you falling onto the ground. Suddenly you're in the sand, with Harry on top of you. You very much regret stopping for dramatic effect as you roll out from under him, leaving him face first in the sand. You sit up and dust sand off yourself as you sit on your knees.

“Do you always have to be so dramatic?” He says, exasperatedly, as he sits up and brushes sand out of his hair.

“Yes,” You sigh, “I study engineering, it's pretty much the only entertainment I have.”

“So you were joking? Back there?”

“No, I was being serious.”

“You really think that just because I’m into you I’m gonna go off and write songs about the aerospace engineering major who has stars in her eyes and perfect hair falls into place everyday the same way? There’s going to be a billboard hit about the girl that who drinks the same tea I don’t understand every single day, and pours over her little computer with diagrams of rocket ships trying to will the words to appear?”

You stop and just look at him. He looks back at you with a deer in headlights expression, and lays back down into the sand like he wishes he would disappear. You sit in the sand, as a breeze blows across the beach. The waves behind you crash against the sand with a sound that you just seem to notice, as Harry seems to have his little crisis, you suddenly notice nature all around you. And you notice the fact that you hadn’t paid any attention to any of it, because you were too busy looking at him.

“You have been watching me,” You say suddenly.

“Not in a creepy way,” He says from his place on the ground, “I have just noticed things.”

:”Well I’m not going to go off and design rockets that are shaped like Harry Styles but-” You sigh, “I have noticed things too.”

“By which you mean?”

You get to your feet and walk over to him, holding out your hand for him. Harry looks up at you and takes your hand, using it to pull himself up until you're standing looking at each other. “I mean, maybe the version of you I've created in my head isn’t the real you. And I would be interested in finding out who Harry is.” He smiles, “And also,” You cup your hands around his cheeks and pull him in for a kiss. He kisses you back immediately, and it goes on until you pull away. “I have to get back to work.”

“Oh so now you can write?”

“What can I say, I think you cured the writer's block.”

You spend the next two weeks actually getting to know Harry. He’s a bit like the person the general public thinks him to be, but there are things about him that he’s never shared in any interview or any tweet. You feel lucky to get to know these things, to get to have these little pieces of him to keep. You know the taste of his lips, his exact coffee order, the way he laughs at jokes that are not funny, the little smile that crosses his face whenever there’s a commercial with dogs or babies, and the fact that if left unattended he will wake up and eat leftover cake at two in the morning.

You like him, you like him a lot, but you don’t allow yourself to fall in love with him. Well maybe you do, in the small ways, the ways that are so easy to push down and not think about. Everytime you think about yourself having some kind of future with him beyond the four walls of the apartments you're both renting you think about something else. You think about how you have your own dreams that couldn’t include him even if you tried, you think about all the things that could go wrong and all the reasons why his life can’t be your life, and you think maybe that’ll be enough to stop you from loving him the way you want to.

One of those things you try not to think about? How good you are for each other. You kissed him one time and it was like your brain lit up somehow you had the energy to work on your thesis and get close to finishing it. Harry helped in his own way, he sat with you in the coffee shop and on the couch as you wrote, telling you that it looked good even though he had no idea what you were talking about. And everyday when you were working he would sit on the floor of your small apartment with his guitar, strumming and singing and creating music finally. You didn’t really understand what he was getting at either but you thought it sounded nice anyway and you liked to see him happy.

None of that makes it easy to leave by any means. That’s the biggest reason why you can’t love him, because you know and you’ve always known that you were going to leave. At the end of the month you both pack up your bags and get ready to go back to Washington DC, and Harry gets ready to go back to London. Both of you knew deep down that it was going to be this way, and so you just push ahead. No crying, no confessions, no big dramatic moments that both of you had become accustomed to, you just kiss one last time and head off your separate ways.

You realize once you're on the plane, leaving the whole thing in the past, that you actually don’t mind if he writes a song about you. Something should come of your time together, you decide because it meant so much to both of you.

Almost a year later, Harry has released another album and he’s coming on tour to Washington. Your thesis is done, and you're working your dream job for NASA, helping to design rockets and other technology. You don’t know why, but you revolve to go to the show. Half of it is because you genuinely like the album, and because you’ve heard that Harry Styles concerts are something that everyone should experience, but half because you want to see him in person because it’s been a long time.

You could tell him that you're coming, but you don’t. You don’t know what to say and most of all you don’t know what you want him to do with it. All the barriers to the two of you having a serious relationship are still there, especially now that he’s going to be on tour for the time being. You don’t tell him you're going, but somehow despite all the doubts that appear in your mind the hours before the concert is set to start you make it all the way there.

You actually enjoy the concert like a normal fan, up until the point where he plays Sunflower Vol 6.

You’ve known Sunflower was about you since the album was released. On the day Fine Line was released, Harry sent you a text that said: I know I said that I wouldn’t write a song about you but I couldn’t help it. Don’t be mad. It’s called Sunflower.

You weren’t mad, and you actually ended up loving the song. Hearing it made you a little emotional however, because it just made you think, think about the time the two of you had spent together and how you wished it could've lasted longer.

You don’t know why, but you text him while he’s playing. You know he won’t see it until after the show and that’s kind of the point. You sound great tonight. Sunflower is beautiful.

Eventually the concert ends and you end up staying in your seat for a little longer than everyone else, just to steer clear of the crowds trying to get out of the building all at once. When mostly everyone around you has cleared out you leave your street and start the walk back to the metro station. You’re walking down a long and mostly empty hallway when you suddenly hear the sound of someone running right behind you. You turn around and see Harry running after you, in a way that reminds you so much of that day on the beach.

“Woah,” You say, suddenly. “Where’s the fire?”

He stops a foot ahead of you, out of breath.

“Did you run around the whole venue?” You ask him.

“Not the whole thing,” He says, finally able to catch his breath. “But a good chunk of it.”

“All for me?” You tease him lightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” He asks.

You shrug, “What would you have done if you knew?”

“You could’ve come backstage and met the band and-”

“-and what would you have introduced me as,” You reply, a question that you both know means more than just the words that you’ve said.

He tilts his head to the side and says, “My old friend.”

“Uh-huh,” You say.

“You’re being contrary again,” He says.

“And you're being overly optimistic.”

The two of you stand there for a minute, just getting a good look at one another for what you both think will be the last time for a while.

“I mostly came to hear the song live,” You say, “I’m glad I got to hear you play for real, instead of just on the kitchen floor.”

He laughs, “Personally I think I do my best work on the kitchen floor.”

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree about that one.”

“So you’re just going to go home, then?”

You put your hands into your pockets, and say, “Yeah, I am.”

“Can I at least walk you out then?”

You pause, but then say, “Yeah, you can.”

He smiles, and the two of you start to walk side by side down the hallway.

#will I ever stop writing harry fics based on taylor songs?#probably not omg #especially not if she keeps writing songs that emcompass such specific emotions #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #my writing

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purrincess-chat · 3 years

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH5

Aaaand it’s finally time. Surprise! Work has been kicking my butt the past couple weeks, so I’ve been really tired and writing has been slow. But we are still plenty ahead of schedule on this project, so don’t worry your pretty little heads! You’ll still get a chapter every Friday! We’re getting closer to the big shifts. Only a couple more chapters until the real fun begins >:)

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Previous First Next AO3

Chapter 5: when the party’s over

“Good morning, sweetie.”

“Morning, Mom.” Marinette made her way down the stairs, carrying her boots in one hand. She yawned and stooped to kiss her mother’s cheek.

“How was the concert? Did you all have a good time?” her mom asked.

“I had an amazing time! We got to stand backstage for the whole performance, and you’re not gonna believe it! I fixed Jagged's jacket, and to thank me, he invited me to sing a song with him!” Marinette relayed as she grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl.

“Oh, how exciting!” her mom said. “I always knew you would do something amazing.”

“If Eliott hadn't suggested that I ask for tickets, Jagged would have canceled the show. It was really lucky that I was there,” Marinette said, ripping the peel.

“So, I take it everything is going well at your new school?” Her mom took a seat across from her.

“Yeah. I'm making new friends, and I helped someone with their bully,” Marinette answered around a bite.

“Are you happy?”

Marinette slowed her chewing as she mulled over an answer, and sensing her hesitance, her mom placed a hand over hers.

“I know there are things you don't tell me, but I can tell when you're upset,” she said. “You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. All I care about is that you're happy.”

“It's just that…” She took a deep breath before spilling everything. Following Lila and Adrien, the situation with seats, Lila's threats in the bathroom, Alya's akumatization.

Everything.

Once she started, she couldn't stop. Words tumbled from her mouth in a rapid current until hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Her mother moved to hold her, rubbing her back and kissing her hair.

“When you said you wanted to transfer to this new school to focus on your talents, I had no idea you were leaving behind so much,” her mom said. “You've been carrying all of that weight for so long.”

“I didn't know what else to do,” Marinette whimpered. She sniffled against her mother's shoulder.

“Look at me.” Her mom lifted her chin. “You do so much for other people, and that’s wonderful. But I think it's time that you focus on what makes you happy.”

That was the understatement of the century, but Marinette wasn't going to say as much.

“Your father and I raised you to always help others when you can, but we never wanted it to be at the expense of your own happiness. Sometimes it's okay to do what's best for yourself, and I think that changing schools was a smart decision.” She brushed a tear from Marinette's cheek with her thumb. “I know you're hurting now, and if you ever need anything, Papa and I are always here for you.”

“Thanks, Mama,” Marinette said.

She hugged her mother tightly, her worries washing down her face in thin streaks. For once, she wasn't a superhero with the weight of the world on her shoulders—she was a young girl, abandoned and hurt by the people she once trusted. There wasn’t a clever solution to fix everything. No lucky charm to get her out of a messy situation. It was the hardest lesson she'd ever learned. That sometimes there was no magic to reset everything. Some wounds didn't heal, and some bonds stayed broken.

For the first time since she became Ladybug, Marinette didn't have to carry anyone's burdens but her own. For once, she could just cry.

♪♫♪ When I’m Gone ♪♫♪

“Well, class, by an overwhelming majority, I’m happy to announce Lila as our new class representative!” Mlle. Bustier said.

“Mlle. Bustier, I would like a recount!” Chloe demanded.

“You only had two votes, Chloe. I don’t think a recount is necessary.” She gave her a sympathetic smile.

“What? That’s ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!” Chloe folded her arms over her chest.

“Can you blame us?” Alya asked.

“Yeah, Lila is way cooler than you.” Alix shot back, a sentiment echoed by several others.

Chloe slouched in her seat, seething. “Well, at least Sabrina recognizes my natural leadership,” she said, but her bff averted her gaze. “Don’t tell me you voted for her too?”

“Sorry, Chloe.” Sabrina shrank when Chloe gasped in disbelief.

“Are my ears deceiving me? How dare you!” Chloe slammed her fist on the desk as the whole class erupted into laughter.

“Wow, even Sabrina is tired of you,” Nathaniel said.

Chloe’s jaw clenched, cheeks burning angry and hot. Even the shrimpy comic book nerd was laughing at her. What had the world come to?

“I don’t want to cause any trouble, but I did win fair and square, Chloe. I hope you aren’t too mad at me.” Lila curled her shoulders. “The last thing I want to do is make another enemy like I did with Marinette. I just want to do my best to make your lives as easy as possible here.”

“See? Now that’s natural leadership.” Alya smirked.

“You’re all so lame. I wouldn’t want your votes anyway.” Chloe glared at Lila as class resumed and clicked her stylus pen. Lila wasn’t some nobody like Marinette. She was going to be harder to push around. Regardless, if there was something Chloe wanted, she always got it.

♪♫♪ I Don’t Care ♪♫♪

“Congrats on winning class representative,” Alya said at the next class change. “I can go over all of your duties with you this afternoon if you want. Marinette and I used to discuss things over ice cream.”

Lila suppressed an eye roll. The sooner Alya stopped talking about that brat, the better. Things were working out in Lila’s favor already now that she was gone. Pretty soon she’d own this school, and no one would even remember Marinette’s name.

“Actually, I’m recovering from tonsilitis, so my doctor said I’m not allowed to eat any dairy.” Lila touched her throat delicately. “Besides, you and I should pick our own rituals and forget about Marinette.”

“True, I guess.” Alya pursed her lips, and Lila placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I know it’s hard to move on, but honestly, Marinette is nobody,” Lila said. “Though not many people can say they saved an entire village from a stampede, so I guess I shouldn’t be one to judge.”

“Not all of us can be so amazing.” Alya chuckled good-naturedly. “I guess part of me just wishes that Marinette could have gotten to know you and seen how cool you are.”

“Her loss.” Lila shrugged as they entered the locker room.

“Did you see-”

“Is that for real?”

“No way!”

“What’s going on?” Alya asked Adrien and Nino.

“Marinette sang with Jagged Stone last night at his concert here in Paris.” Nino explained, tilting his phone toward them.

“What?” Lila snatched it from him.

“Miraculous, yeah I got this! I gotta confess I feel so strong!”

“She asked him for tickets yesterday on Instagram, and he gave her backstage passes,” Mylène said.

“She looks so happy and confident,” Rose cooed.

“Wouldn’t you be if you got to sing with Jagged Stone on stage?” Alix said.

“I miss her.” Rose slumped, and several classmates followed suit.

“Yeah, me too,” Max echoed.

“Hey, Lila, since you’re such good friends with Jagged Stone, do you think you could get us tickets to his next show?” Kim asked.

Every eye turned to her expectantly, and her annoyance flared. Of course Marinette wouldn’t go quietly. That stupid brat was causing her problems even after she was gone. Lila wasn’t worried though. This situation just needed a little precision…

“Well, I would love to, but celebrities like Jagged really don’t like to give stuff away for free. It’s kind of taboo to even ask. I’m sure Jagged only complied this time because he wanted to save face. He cares about his fans so much, but it’s actually very rude to ask someone for special treatment,” Lila said. “I feel really bad for Jagged being put on the spot like that. She could have ruined his reputation.”

“Wow, I guess I didn’t realize…” Kim rubbed the back of his neck. “I’d hate to put you in that position.”

“I can’t believe Marinette would do such a thing.” Nathaniel glared down at his phone.

“Yeah, way uncool.”

“Everyone, please don’t make a fuss and blame Marinette. She isn’t used to dealing with celebrities. I’m sure she meant no harm.” Lila assured them. “If only she were still here. I have so much I could teach her.”

“We’re so lucky to have you, Lila,” Nino said. He draped an arm across her shoulders.

“Yeah, thanks, Lila!”

“You’re the best.”

Lila smiled as the bell rang, and everyone shuffled off to class. Marinette wasn’t going to get ahead so easily. Everyone was still exactly where Lila wanted them, and she’d make sure it stayed that way.

♪♫♪ Primadonna ♪♫♪

Later that afternoon, the girls gathered in the bathroom to comfort Mireille who was crying over some stupid argument she’d had with her boyfriend, not that Chloe cared. All she wanted was to find dirt on Lila, so she slipped in unnoticed and hid in an empty stall to listen.

Nothing was right in her school anymore. Lila was stealing away everything she’d worked for, and while everyone was too busy paying attention to her, Chloe barely had anyone to boss around. Something needed to change. Fast. She would have to be smarter if she wanted to dethrone this queen, but she’d have order restored in her kingdom soon enough.

Chloe peeked through the crack in the door as Alya and Lila entered. She was going to find Lila’s weakness, then she was going to take her down.

“What’s going on?” Lila asked.

“Mireille and her boyfriend got into a fight, and she’s pretty upset,” Mylène said in a hushed tone.

“Marinette used to give advice to everyone and help them stay positive.” Rose glanced up at Lila. “Since you’re the new class representative, you can help, right?”

“Well, Mireille isn’t really in our class,” Lila said, but when Mireille let out a loud sob, she scrunched her nose and knelt beside her. “Hey, there’s no sense crying over some boy. I’ve had my heart broken before too, so I know how it feels. Boys are dumb. He’s not worth your tears,” she said. “If he really loved you, he wouldn’t have argued with you, and if he doesn’t love you, then you shouldn’t waste your time crying over him. I think you should move on because there’s no better revenge than finding someone cuter.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…” Mireille sniffled and ran a hand across her cheek.

“We can get some ice cream later if you want.” Alya offered.

“Thanks, girls.” Mireille smiled. She turned to the mirror to fix her face as the bell rang.

“See you later.” They all waved goodbye, shuffling to their next class and leaving Mireille alone.

Drat. Chloe would have to figure out another way to get to Lila. Everyone had a weakness, and Chloe would find hers if it was the last thing she did. But first she needed to get out of the bathroom stall.

She peeked through the crack in the door, but Mireille was still pouting over her lock screen—a picture of her boyfriend hugging her lovingly. Too preoccupied with her sadness, she didn’t see the little black butterfly land on her charm bracelet.

Chloe gasped as Mireille transformed before her eyes, closing the stall door before she could be noticed. She hated to admit it, but she actually missed Maribrat Dupain-Cheng. At least with her around giving pep talks to every miserable face she came across, akumas had reached an all-time low at their school. Where was Ladybug when she needed her?

♪♫♪ Listen ♪♫♪

“So, you really saved his whole show?” One of Marinette’s new classmates asked as everyone crowded around her.

“I’m sure they would have found another solution but-”

“Oh, don’t be modest!” Eliott cut her off with an eye roll. “She totally saved the whole show.”

“Yeah, Jagged Stone adores her.” Macy added with a giggle.

“I still think it should have been you up there, Macy. You’re a much better singer than I am.” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck.

“You have such a cute voice! We should sing a duet together for our next art project,” Macy said, and several classmates agreed, much to Marinette’s chagrin.

“Alright, class, everyone take your seats,” Mme. Allard instructed as she strolled into the room. To Marinette’s relief, the group surrounding her dispersed. “Today we will be discussing themes in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. Now, who can tell me-”

When Marinette’s phone buzzed in her bag, she checked it under her desk. “An akuma alert!”

“What’s that?” Eliott leaned over.

“Is something the matter, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng? M. Chasse?” Mme. Allard paused her lesson and quirked a brow.

“Uh, there’s an akuma loose in the city, ma’am. Shouldn’t we evacuate?” Marinette held up her phone.

Mme. Allard removed her glasses to read the report. “It says here that lockdown orders are only for the area surrounding Notre Dame. We will continue our lesson until it becomes a threat on this side of town,” she said. “Now, put your phone away. They are prohibited during instruction.”

“Yes, Mme. Allard.” Marinette tucked her phone back into her bag and exchanged a nervous look with Tikki. “Actually, Mme. Allard?”

“What is it, Marinette?”

“Can I be excused to the bathroom?”

“You just went before we got here.” Macy gave her a quizzical look.

“Do you have a documented medical condition that requires you to frequent the restroom, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?” Mme. Allard asked.

A few classmates giggled, and Marinette’s cheeks burned.

“No, ma’am,” she mumbled.

“Then I think you can hold it until the next class change. Now don’t interrupt my lecture again.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She lowered her head, shooting Tikki an apologetic wince.

Her foot tapped the entire lecture, fingers drumming, pen tapping, eyes watching the clock. Part of her hoped the akuma would make its way to their side of town, but she wasn’t so lucky. When the bell rang, Marinette jumped from her chair and stuffed her tablet into her bag.

“Uh, I’m not feeling too well, so I’m gonna go see the nurse,” she said.

“Do you want us to walk with you?” Eliott offered, but she shook her head.

“I, uh, think I might be getting the flu, and I don’t want to infect you guys, so I’ll see you later.” She raced up the hallway.

The third-floor bathroom was empty when Marinette burst through the doors and ducked into a stall—her first stroke of luck all day.

“Your new school is so strict,” Tikki said.

“We can talk about it later. Transform me!”

Dashing across the rooftops, she hurled her yoyo as far as she could. She just hoped Chat Noir managed to show up and keep things at bay. When she made it to the school, she swooped down just in time to deflect an attack before it hit Chat Noir.

“Oh, nice of you to finally drop in,” he said dryly.

“Sorry, kitty, I got held up,” she said. “You okay?”

He relaxed and offered her a wink. “Better now that you’re here. You had me worried.”

“I’ll try not to make a habit of it.” She vowed, readying her yoyo. “In the meantime, I think we could use a little luck to get us out of this mess.”

“Be my guest.” Chat Noir bowed.

Her magnifying glass made quick work of Heartbreaker, and Mireille blinked in confusion as Ladybug purified the akuma.

“What happened?” Mireille asked, dazed.

“You were akumatized.” Chat Noir explained.

“Oh no!” She covered her face. “I got so angry…Now Jean will never take me back!”

Ladybug placed a hand on Mireille’s shoulder with a reassuring smile. “Hey, arguments in relationships happen. I’m sure you both said things you regret, so why don’t you try talking to him now that you’ve both calmed down?” She advised. ��I’m sure you can come to an understanding.”

“I will. Thank you, Ladybug.” Mireille smiled. She waved as Ladybug and Chat Noir vaulted off.

“Thanks for your help, m’lady.” Chat Noir kissed her hand.

“Sorry it took me so long, kitty. I’m glad you were able to manage,” she said. “I’ll see you next time.”

“Don’t be late,” he called as she swung off.

Landing back in the bathroom, she leaned against the wall with a sigh. That was too close. She’d have to figure out a better way to escape to fight akumas, but at least she made it in time for this one.

She slipped into her desk in physics quietly and leaned over to Eliott. “What’d I miss?”

“I thought you had the flu?” Eliott recoiled.

“False alarm, just allergies,” she said.

“Oh, we should go to the spa later! The sauna is really good for your sinuses,” Macy whispered.

“Uh, sure.” Marinette nodded, shifting in her seat as they tuned back into the lesson. She relaxed when no one seemed suspicious of her.

Being a superhero just got a lot more complicated.

♪♫♪ Delicate ♪♫♪

“How is your new school?” Adrien asked that afternoon over tea and cookies.

“I’m…adjusting.” Marinette pursed her lips. “How is the old school?”

“Well,” Adrien drawled. “Lila is the new class representative, and she may have convinced people that you almost ruined Jagged’s image.”

“What a brat.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “She’s really class rep?”

“Don’t look at me, I voted for Chloe.” Adrien held up defensive hands.

“Somehow I don’t feel like that’s better.” Marinette leaned against her fist with a smirk.

She fixed her gaze on her cup with a sigh.

“Rose said she misses you.” Adrien offered. “Before Lila convinced her you were clueless about dealing with celebrities.”

“I miss her too,” Marinette said. She traced the rim of her cup with a finger. “I miss everyone, but…”

“I know.” Adrien winced. “For what it’s worth, I thought your performance with Jagged was awesome.”

“It was pretty awesome,” she admitted with a giggle. “And I got you an autograph!”

Adrien pressed his palms together appreciatively as she retrieved a signed poster of Jagged’s face from her desk.

“You rock, Marinette!” he said in his best Jagged impression, then more sincerely added, “I’m glad that you’re doing what’s best for you. If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word.”

“Thank you, Adrien.” Her cheeks warmed as he held her gaze, her mind clouding into a lovestruck haze. She almost got lost in his gorgeous green eyes, but footsteps pounded up the staircase, breaking her trance.

Marinette jumped as her trapdoor swung open, and a familiar pair of icy blue eyes poked through. It was Chloe Bourgeois, and she was pissed.

#mdcspr #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #my writing

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bbdaydreams · 3 years

Text

Courage My Love// Semi Eita x Reader

Series Masterlist•next>

Chapter One: Late

You and Semi were assigned to sit next to each other in your English class during your first year which is how you initially met. About a quarter through the year Semi noticed you had the letter “X” in black marker on the back of your hand which led him to ask if you went to a show the night before. You said yes and told him what band you saw which made him light up and show you his hand as proof that he was there too.

“Dude, let me know when you go to a show! We could go together,” Semi told you with a grin on his face.

“Will do, bro,” you smiled back at him.

Since then, you’ve been concert buddies and best friends. You weren’t afraid to run up to tackle the other from a distance. Semi’s lent you multiple sweatshirts that other students immediately have identified as his considering the size difference. You’ve gone into his personal bubble many times, mostly to bother him by squishing his face. Other’s believe there’s more going on between you two but you’re both quick to shut down those comments, even if in reality you did harbor feelings for him.

You were both currently in his dorm fiddling with tunes on your guitars. “Y/n, you’re going too fast. Slow down,” Semi laughed while holding your wrists in place on the guitar.

“Dammit! I got nervous,” you responded setting the acoustic guitar down next to your body before using your hands to rub your face.

“It’s just me here. You don’t have to be so nervous.”

“I know, I know. I’ve got to get over this fear.”

Semi picked up his electric guitar and put the strap over himself so he could play properly. “I mean, I get it. It’s not easy playing in front of people, let alone perform. Did you see where I put my pick?”

“How do you do it? You honestly make it look easy. Also, dude, you have like three still stuck on your face.”

“Oh shit,” he responded before feeling his forehead remembering the guitar pick war you guys had. He grabbed one and wiped it on his shirt to take off your saliva for a better grip. “Uhh, I don’t know actually. I definitely do get anxious sometimes but I think I get so caught in the moment that in the end I don’t care who is watching. I’m just having fun, ya know?”

“I’m so focused on what others think, I don’t think I could ever perform how you do.”

“Well, you better get over it. You gotta hold up your end of the deal since you wanted me to do the talent show so bad.”

After Shiratorizawa lost to Karasuno, Semi had more time to focus on his band, which had formed the summer of your second year. They try to put on a show every other week at a local café and managed to gain a decent amount of attention but it definitely wasn’t enough for them to break out. You wanted to push them in anyway you could which led you to annoying Semi to sign up for the talent show.

“Eita, you should sign up for the talent show!”

“Nah. Too many preps. They’re not gonna be interested,” Semi responded in between bites of his lunch.

“Don’t think like that. Your guy’s music is good okay? I’m not just saying that because I’m your best friend I’m saying it because I legitimately mean it. Eagle Thorns is my favorite band. I know you guys will make it big and this can help!”

“They’ve got a good point, Eita,” their bassist, Ranmaru, said.

“I think it’ll be fun,” the drummer, Subaru, added on.

“We’ll do it,” Jiro, the lead guitarist, responded as he smiled up at you.

“Thank you, boys. I’ll sign you guys up-“

“Nope. Nope, no, no, no,” Semi spoke up, leaning over to take the pen from your hand.

“What do you mean no? Everyone else said yes.”

“I didn’t agree. I’ll agree to it if you do it too. I’ll even write your name on the list for you,” Semi stated with a smirk.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Guess we’re not participating then. Sorry boys-“

“I’ll do it. I want you guys to perform.”

“I don’t get why you want me to participate. I’m not the one with a band,” you told him.

“I know, but you want a band of your own. This could help you too. And even if you end up not finding members, it’ll help you get over your stage fright.”

“You have a weird way of showing you care,” you laughed while pushing his shoulder.

“Oh yeah?” Semi responded while pretending to square up.

“Yeah,” you immediately bucked back standing on your toes to help you get closer to his face.

“Ranmaru, the love birds are at it again!” Subaru spoke when he opened the door to Semi’s room.

“Oi! Eita, stop flirting! It’s time for band practice,” Ranmaru scolded.

“How many times do I have to tell you? We’re just friends,” Semi retorted turning his back to you.

You made eye contact with Jiro and he gave you a sorry look. Jiro was the only one that knew of your feelings and you planned to keep it that way. He was a year younger and didn’t speak to many other third years so you felt you could trust him.

“Yeah guys, c’mon. How many times do we have to tell you we’re just friends? It’s getting tiring at this point,” you added on with a fake happy smile on your face.

“Whatever. You get a song ready, y/n?”

“Still working on it. I’ll leave you guys alone and head back to my dorm. Have fun!” And with that you excused yourself and headed off.

When you got back to your dorm, you immediately sent a text to Tendou asking him to come over so you could vent to him. While waiting you came up with a plan. You decided you were going to play a song that expressed your feelings and then once you came off stage you were going to walk up to Semi and confess, hoping that the high from being on stage walks off with you.

“He said that?” Tendou asked as he sat on your bed with a large plush in his lap, watching you pace around your dorm.

“Yes! I don’t know what to do! Graduation is just around the corner and I wanna tell him before we go out separate ways after high school. Tendou, I’m so scared what if we don’t talk to each other again after graduation?”

“No, that’s not happening. You guys are best friends. I doubt he’d stop talking to you after we graduate.”

“Ok, but what if I confess and he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Trust me he feels the same.”

“How do you know that? Does he ever talk about me?”

“I can just tell by how he looks at you! And I’ll be honest he doesn’t bring you up but when someone else does he immediately tells them to shut up. Incase you didn’t know, I understand guy code. That means ‘don’t talk about my girl’.”

“Okay, okay. That puts me somewhat at ease.”

“Good. Now all you have to do is play that song without fucking up.”

“Ugh, Tendou! That just made me sick to my stomach!” You exclaimed before jumping on the bed and tackling him.

“It’s the truth! Just picture the audience in their underwear!” Tendou retaliated as he grabbed a pillow to hit you with.

“It’s not that easy!” You said while lightly hitting his chest.

“Why do you care so much as to what people think?”

“I don’t care about what others think I just care about what he thinks!”

“Shit, you have it BAD, bad,” Tendou laughed while putting the pillow behind his head for support. “Y/n, he’d be an idiot to reject you. And I’d remind him daily if he did. You are such a catch, it’d be a shame if he let you go to waste,” he told you earnestly.

“I-, thank you, Tendou. It means a lot-“

“Oh shit, I didn’t know you guys were in the middle of something,” Semi voiced when he let himself into your dorm, a reoccurring scene he’s noticed.

“Eita!” You greeted him, immediately getting off of Tendou to go hug the setter.

“Semi-Semi, I thought your practice was going to last longer,” Tendou said, taking note of the small glare Semi gave him.

“Stop calling me that and we finished early,” the ash blonde responded before turning to you. “What about you? Did you manage to pick a song?”

“I did!” you told him with a smile.

After two weeks of practicing it was finally the night of the talent show. You had your guitar in a soft case, that Semi had given you, across your back. Were you nervous? Yes. Of the crowd? Not exactly. What you told Semi and Tendou wasn’t a lie. You didn’t care about what people thought of you, unless they were people you cared about. You cared about how your friends would react. You cared about what Semi’s band members thought. You even cared about what the members of the volleyball team would think, even if you’ve only met them a few times. But most importantly, you cared about what Semi’s opinion of your performance was.

You and Semi have sang along to numerous songs in different settings, even taking turns to do karaoke in the car. All those times you didn’t care about what he thought because you were so comfortable being around him, but now that it matters, that’s when your self doubt kicked in.

“Ready?” Semi asked you from behind, making you jump.

You took a deep breath after the scare before smiling up at him, “Nope, but I’m up soon.”

“Indeed you are. You’ll do great. I know you will.” Semi’s honesty was something you always admired about him. In your three years of friendship, he’s never lied to you. He’s always evaluated the situation and told you his thoughts without a single waver in his voice. Him believing in you, gave you all the confidence in the world.

You guys were standing side to side watching the other acts perform their talents from side stage. As your turn neared closer, he raised an arm over your shoulder, rubbing it to help ease your nerves causing you to lean your head on him.

“Hey, I gotta tell you something later,” you spoke, avoiding looking at him.

“Tell me now,” he responded gently.

“Nah. After we perform.”

“Alright,” he laughed. “Ima go find the guys, we’re up after you. Good luck, don’t fuck up or else you won’t hear the end of it from me.”

“Ha, ha, ha. Okay jackass. Good luck to you too. Tell the boys I wish them luck too.”

As soon as Semi left your side, the announcer spoke up to announce it was now your turn to perform. You took a deep breath before shaking each of your limbs to make sure they were working. Once you concluded that they were, you made your way to the center of the stage.

“Good evening, L/N, the stage is all yours,” the announcer spoke before placing the microphone on a stand and adjusting it to your height while you grabbed the chair left on stage for you to use. You gave him a silent nod before he left the stage.

“Thank you,” you spoke while grabbing the mic to tilt it a little more towards you. “I’m going to be singing a song by a band called ONE OK ROCK. This song is called ‘Wherever You Are’. Please enjoy.”

Wherever you are, I'll always make you smile

Wherever you are, I'm always by your side

Whatever you say, kimi wo omou kimochi

I promise you "forever" right now

You were almost done with the song and decided to look up and scan the crowd. You were quick to notice Tendou and Ushijima sitting in the crowd, Tendou looking more impressed than the latter. When your eyes connected with the judges you remembered situation you were in and closed your eyes to put all your effort into the last three lines. It went quiet in the auditorium after you finished which only made your eyes stay shut until loud clapping and hollering commenced, one voice sticking out from all the rest.

“Wooooo! Go y/n!” You could hear Tendou yell. You looked up to make eye contact with him again. He was grinning from ear to ear while talking to the people beside him, most likely telling them he knew you.

You grabbed the microphone again and gave a small chuckle before speaking, “thank you, everyone.”

The announcer came back into the stage and gave you a hand to help you get up from the chair. While you put the guitar away he put the chair away and spoke into the microphone as you waved the crowd goodbye. “Beautiful wasn’t it? So passionate. Thank you so much for blessing all of our ears with your voice. Now, up next we have another musical performance. This next one is a group and they call themselves Eagle Thorns! Please welcome Eita, Ranmaru, Subaru, and Jiro to the stage!”

Subaru walked up first with his drum sticks in his hand and made his way to his kit. Once he got to his seat, he raised one arm up waved to greet the crowd. Jiro and Ranmaru walked up together with their instruments and waved to the crowd as they went to their spots. Semi followed them from a couple feet behind with his guitar and made his way to center stage. “Hope you guys still have some energy after all the performances you’ve seen tonight. We are Eagle Thorns and if there’s any parents in the room, I hope you brought some ear plugs,” Semi joked.

You were standing off to the side of the stage watching them. It was funny to you because they were really acting how they did for any other gig. You’ve been to almost all of their shows and we’re still amazed every time they took the stage.

“This song is an original. It’s called ‘Late’.”

I can't stop thinking it, thinking it

That it's a little too late, a little too late, a little too late, a little too late

“Here we go!” Semi yelled into the mic. What followed was Ranmaru sing the first part of the hard vocals while Jiro did the second part which made you realize why Semi made his joke directed towards the parents earlier. In true Semi fashion, he found a way to include some spice into the band’s performance.

What kept bothering you was his use of the word ‘mistake’. All it did was make you question who he was talking about. You went down the list of people you thought it could’ve been but as far as you knew, Semi didn’t talk to a lot of people regularly. He preferred to keep his social circle small.

“Thank you so much for giving us a chance to play tonight. Before we leave the stage I’d like to ask someone very special to come up to the stage. They already know who they are,” Semi spoke into the mic.

A couple of performers that had gone up before were whispering amongst themselves.

“Is he doing what I think he’s doing?”

“Super bold move of him if he is.”

“Oh my god! He’s gonna ask someone to be his date for the dance next week!”

After that last comment you could feel a bunch of gazes landing on your form. The small group of students were now encouraging you to go up, but all you could do was grip into the strap that was across your body for comfort.

“Y/n! He’s talking about you!”

“Y/n go up there! What are you waiting for?”

“It’s not me guys,” you spoke. You knew you weren’t that special someone the moment Semi turned to the direction that was the opposite of where you were. “After all, we’re just friends.”

The group around you grew very confused from your response until they looked forward and saw someone else walk on stage towards the lead singer.

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Would you go on a date with me and accompany me next week to the dance?” Semi asked the girl, who you knew nothing about. He was asking out someone you had no idea existed.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you excused yourself from the people surrounding you and bolted to the closest restroom. When you made it outside the door, you slid off the guitar and placed it on the ground so you could run into a stall. You immediately took out your phone and started texting Tendou asking him to come to your dorm so you could have a shoulder to cry on since the one you normally rely on isn’t an option at the moment. Tendou responded immediately, encouraging you to at least wait until the event is over for the awards ceremony. You were about to text him back but froze when you heard foot steps.

“I think she’s in here,” a soft voice spoke.

“It has to be this one, who else’s guitar would this be?” another voice spoke.

“Hmm,” a third girl spoke. “Hi, we’re looking for L/n Y/n! We-“

“Shhhh! You don’t have to be so loud, Izumi,” the second voice spoke.

“I don’t think it was a good idea to come looking for them now.”

“You’re probably right, but we wouldn’t have another opportunity to talk to them.”

What could they want with you? What could some strangers possibly want to talk to you about? You quietly leaned forward on the plastic door to look through the crack to judge the situation. There were three girls total, and one of them looked mean. As much as you didn’t like judging people based on their looks, the other two girls appeared to be nicer which made you take a chance.

“You’re looking for me?” You asked, stepping out of the stall while wiping your eyes.

The girl with the soft voice immediately took notice of your state and turned to grab a paper towel and wet it before handing it to you. “Here you go,” she said with a small smile.

“Uh, thank you,” you responded awkwardly.

“Sorry we’re meeting like this but we wanted to ask you a question. Would you be interested in being in our band? We’d love to have you,” the girl you were on edge about asked.

“You want me in your band? I only know how to play acoustic guitar, I’m an amateur at best,” you responded honestly while dabbing your face with the wet paper towel.

“Okay but you sing amazingly! We need a lead singer and your voice matches our vibe! At least think about it. Please. Let’s change information,” the louder one spoke as she handed you her phone.

You gave a genuine smile to the girls before accepting the device and started entering your information as you took yours out so she could do the same.

“Award ceremony is starting! All performers please make your way to the stage!” Someone yelled from the hallways.

You were about to speak but the leader of the girls spoke up for you. “Guess that means you, girly. Good luck!” She handed you your guitar back and ushered you out of the bathroom so you’d be able to make it where you needed to be on time.

When you made it back to the stage, Semi quickly made his way towards you, leaving his band behind, with a smile on his face. “Hey! Where’d you go?” He asked, completely unaware that you ran off to go cry.

“Not important,” you told him dryly.

Giving you a confused look he decided to continue the conversation. “Alright... well what was it you were gonna tell me?”

Now you were having an internal battle within yourself. Do you actually confess to him after he technically just confessed to someone else? Do you tell him something else? Or, do you just not tell him anything?

Knowing the last option would just cause him to bug you until you told him something you decided to go with the second option.

“I was gonna say that there’s a big name in the crowd tonight. Someone from a record label is here to scout out a new artist but I don’t know who.”

“Oh shit. No way! Hope they liked us.”

“Yeah.”

At this point you didn’t know what to do. You were upset that he’s never spoken about this person to you before. You thought you were closer than this. Don’t best friends tell each other about their crushes? Don’t best friends tell each other about things like this? Did you see Semi more as a best friend than he did for you? Were you putting in more effort into the relationship than he was this entire time? Were you so stuck in your fantasy that every small task he did for you mean nothing to him? Was he just being nice to you?

“Semi, who is she?” you asked trying not to cry for the second time in the past hour.

“Semi?” He asked taking notice of how you used his last name instead of his first name. “She’s someone I’ve been seeing on the low for about a month now.”

A month. He’s kept her away from you for a month.

“Why haven’t you ever introduced me to her?”

“I didn’t think it was important.”

“Why would you think that?” You asked with in a louder tone.

He looked at you even more confused as to why you were acting the way you were. “Sorry, I didn’t know I needed my friend’s approval to date someone?” Semi responded with the same tone you did, but with a little more bite.

His answer left you feeling as if you’ve been stabbed in the front. Out of all the ways he could’ve said, he chose to respond like that? Not wanting to draw attention you guys you decided to end the conversation before it got out of hand. “Don’t talk to me Semi,” you told him before turning to walk away from him.

He tried to reach out to grab your arm and ask you what the hell your problem was but the announcer spoke up.

“Alright, now that everyone is here and the judges have counted their votes, it’s time to announce the winners! In third place we have the dance duo! Congrats you guys!”

You were walking behind the line of performers so that the crowd would hopefully not see you walk off the stage as the announcer spoke.

“And in second place we have Eagle Thorns!” You froze at the loud cheers that erupted and the arm that you recognized belonged to Jiro as the hugged you from excitement right when you walked by.

“And in first place, drum roll please... we have L/n Y/n! Congratulations!” Now you can’t help yourself. Being too overwhelmed with emotions is never a good thing because now here you are, letting tears fall in front of a whole room of people. Jiro immediately picked you up and spun you around before putting you down and encouraging you to walk to center stage to accept the fake trophy that you weren’t expecting. You wiped your tears for a second time that night and gave a slight wave to the crowd before speaking into the microphone that the announcer was holding for you.

“Judges, thank you so much. I honestly didn’t think I’d win this but from the bottom of my heart thank you so, so, much!”

While you were giving your thank you speech, all Semi could do is question why you were so upset. As far as he knew, you had a thing for Tendou and Tendou had a thing for you, so why were you so invested in his relationship?

#haikyuu!!#haikyu #semi haikyuu #semi x reader #semi eita x reader #semi eita #haikyu x reader #haikyu angst

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goldenchan-fx2thepeacock · 3 years

Text

Quick AU where Danny stays in town during Girls Night Out

Yeah, random thoughts spring into brain. Danny is trans. I think that's enough background info. Also, Tumblr got a new post editor, so I'm betaing it right now.

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Danny was supposed to go fishing with his dad. But something came up. AKA, Vlad wanted him to go visit him without Danny. So Danny was in Amity Park when he was supposed to be having dad bonding time. What could he say? His dad got that dumb book and everything. It was gonna be epic. Except stupid Vlad had to go and ruin everything. Whatever. Dad said they would go next weekend.

The first big issue was when Tucker disappeared. And he didn't. Might've been a dumb ghost thing. So he and Sam went to find stuff out. Except all the men in town were gone. It was glaring. "I-I'm sure it's nothing Danny!" Sam said nervously. "Yeah. It's gotta have been a stupid mistake. Maybe I'm immune cause I'm half ghost," Except there weren't any male ghosts either. "Yeah, that's gotta be it!" That when they heard Ember. "OH YEAH! NO MORE PESKY GUYS! IT'S A GIRL'S NIGHT OUT!" "Yes. You know, I'm surprised that worked. I was afraid it might've been a ghost only thing," Spectra drawled. "Of course it worked. The superior gender always prevails," Kitty replied. "And that's obviously female," Every vein in his body was pounding. "I think you might've confused sex for gender ladies," Sam said patiently. "We're not having sex!" Ember laughed. "You do realize how invalidating this can feel for trans people?!" Sam shrieked back. "If they're still here, that means it's a she," Spectra grinned. That was the last straw. He ran. As fast as he could. And for a half ghost that was fast. Once he got home, he slammed the door.

Sam saw Danny run off and knew how this was looking for him. "Isn't this rich? The ghost boy is really a girl," Kitty grinned. "I'm surprised I didn't notice sooner," Spectra laughed. Ember stayed oddly quiet for someone who was normally boisterously loud.

Danny curled in on himself. Herself. NO! Don't second guess yourself. It change the fact that it hurt. "All the men in town are gone!" He heard Jazz yell. "I realize that Jazz. Thank goodness your father is out of town," Mom sighed. "Wait, but Danny isn't! I really hope..." She was standing in his doorway. "FUCKING GHOSTS!" Jazz didn't swear. She never swore. "What is it Jazz? Oh. Danny, I'm so sorry," Mom pulled him into a hug. "I'll be fine," He grumbled. "Do you know which ghosts?" Jazz decided to change the conversation. "Spectra, Kitty and Ember," "Great. Spectra is going to use this horribly," Jazz grumbled quiet enough that only Danny could hear. "Listen, we have to get the guys back first," "Wait, if you're, that means any trans women in Amity are stuck there," Mom said. "Can we not talk about that? I'm seriously not in the mood," "At least pesky Phantom won't be here to get in the way," Jazz and Danny exchanged a look. Sam came bursting in. "Danny! Okay, I am going to make them even deader than before," Sam cracked her knuckles. "I'm fine Sam. Let's just find a way to fix this," "I have an idea!" Jazz said. "No," Danny, Sam and Mom said in unison. "Oh come on. Don't be like that. Not all my plans are bad," Jazz protested. "Speaking from experience (of being trapped in a thermos way too much for one night), that is completely untrue," "What was that about thermoses Danny?" Mom said. "Jazz put soup in my Fenton Thermos!" "I couldn't tell them apart! We really need to label things," "Like with a massive sticker that say Fenton?" "All our stuff has those!" "Fair enough," Danny conceded. It was the plan if anyone caught them talking about getting trapped in thermoses. It made sense because it actually happened. "Well, since Jazz's plan is out, I opt that we figure out how this whole thing happened," Mom said. "It's a combo between Kitty and Ember. Kitty has this thing that makes men disappear into another dimension. And Ember must've used her guitar to make it cover all of Amity. If we don't get them out in twelve hours, they'll be stuck there forever," "And I will have to resign to a life of raging dysphoria," "You were gonna have that anyways," "Times ten. This won't help anyways, but it won't be all bad," "Let's stop talking about you being trans. Danny, you're staying here," Jazz winked. He knew what that meant. They would get all the men back and Danny would keep the ghosts at bay. "Okay. So, from what they were blabbing, all we have to do is get them to do it again," Sam said. Once they had a plan in place, all they had to do was implement it. They left and Danny quickly transformed. Praying that Spectra wouldn't find a way to use this against him, he sped off. "Hey! Poo faces! I'm not gone, and it semi pisses me off!" He screamed. "Oh now sweety. Why would you want to leave behind the superior gender?" Spectra said. "Because it makes me feel horrible and like I was born wrong," "You were, weren't you," Don't let Spectra sink her claws in Fenturd! "Yeah, maybe I was, but if I work hard enough I can fix it," "How is Danny Phantom still here?" He heard Paulina say. Nope, not listening. "They're all going to know. You can't do anything about that," Spectra laughed evilly. "Now girls, follow the recipe! You too now," "I'm. NOT A GIRL!" The wail was probably ill planned, but Danny wasn't thinking straight. Shit, humans. He cut himself off. "Oh come on now. No matter how many times you tell yourself that, you still have to cover parts of yourself. Don't tell me you don't wake up every morning and wish you were a real boy?" "I am. I am a real boy. I just have to take a few extra steps to get there," "Oh come on now. Stop lying to yourself. Maddie, how can you possibly call these eggs? They're green," Okay, maybe dealing with Spectra first was a bad idea. But she was also taunting his mom. Deal with Ember. She must be better than this.

So he flew to a stage. Ember was rocking out with a bunch of girls. Sam was in the background. This was probably one of the less dangerous problems. "Listen, if you're going to taunt me for the fact that I'm still here, do it already," "Hey, listen kid. I'm not actually going to taunt you. Kitty and Spectra are being complete jerks, but I'm not going to judge you for being trans," "Y-you're not?" "Heck no! I'm doing this because I wanted to have a fun night without guys. You included. I'll just have to take a few extra steps to get rid of you!" Danny dodged the guitar strum easily. "Are you planning on bringing them back at the end of the night?" "That's really up to Kitty," "I guess," Sam could deal with Ember.

Next up was Kitty. Oh great, makeup. (I honestly forget what Kitty was doing, so makeup works) "Now girls. All you gotta do is apply the bronzer like so!" "Kitty! How would Johnny feel if he knew you were doing this?" "Oh come on now Ghost girl, you can't be serious. Johnny is having a guys night in all due time," "HEY! Don't you dare. Transphobia doesn't help anyone," Jazz yelled. "Oh stop complaining. She knows she doesn't belong with the guys. From the looks of it, Spectra's already gotten to you. This'll make this so much easier,"

The plan backfired immensely. Danny and Mom were a mess, Sam didn't manage to get the guitar, and Jazz just got in a debate with Kitty. Danny, having to keep up a facade, came downstairs. "How'd it go?" "Terribly. Though, I did learn the Ghost Boy is trans," Mom said. "Fascinating," "It's, well it's oddly human. Why would a ghost even bother?" "Turns out gender dysphoria comes to the grave," "Danny, this is no time for one of your morbid jokes," Yeah, maybe it was morbid, but it wasn't a joke. "Whatever. I guess we get to use Jazz's plan," "All we gotta do is convince them that a cis guy is still in town. Like wandered in after the disappearing act," "Great plan. Sam can't pretend to be me though," "How did you know I was going to do that?" "Lucky guess,"

So that's how Jazz ended up wearing a baseball cap and a pair of men's jeans into Ember's concert. "Did we really have to use a pair of dad's jeans? These barely fit," "You know, the fact that they fit at all should be surprising. Dad was skinny at one point in his life. Which means that one of us could be on his end of the gene pool," "It's probably you," "Don't make me think about that. Hiding what little chest I have is hard enough. If I got dad's genes, I'd honestly be terrified," "We haven't seen the women on his side of the family. And besides, you got the blue eyes black hair thing," "You are honestly scaring me. Now, I gotta scram before someone sees me talking to you. Mom or the ghosts," "Fair,"

And thus, the plan worked. Kitty, adamant that no men be left in Amity, blew another kiss. Ember amplified it. The men came back. The three got thermosed. Jazz laughed at their faces when they honestly though she was from out of town. Danny once again didn't get taken, even in ghost form.

Tucker and Sam found him curled up in his bed. "Hey man. I know this has gotta be tough for you," Tucker said. "Spectra had no right!" Sam continued. "Thanks guys. But I think I'm gonna take a few days off school," The trio heard Dash's voice outside. "Hey mom. I know what happened was scary. And I know it must've felt really bad, but I still see you as my mom," "Thanks Dash. I can always count on you to make me feel better," A woman's voice rang out. Danny looked over the window sill. "See Danny. It's not horribly weird. Just a few transphobic ghosts," Tucker laughed. "A couple," "What?" Sam and Tucker said in unison. "Ember isn't," "How do you know that?" "I talked to her," "Hey Fenturd! Don't you dare tell anyone about my mom! And don't be mean to her! I'm sure you wouldn't get it," "You'd be surprised Dash!" He grabbed his trans flag and hung it out the window. "I get it more than you seem to think!" Dash's mom smiled at him. "Y-you're trans? I thought you were just a loser!" "Yeah, and I had to talk to the transphobic ghosts. So I won't invalidate your mom!" Dash stared up at him. "Holy shit,"

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Praying that this uploads, cause I've got shoddy internet rn. And I'm working on my Gravity Falls crossover fic. I just had this pop into my mind. Prolly just gonna be a oneshot. I might make another fic about Jack's side of the family later, that's connected to this one.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #dash baxter #trans!danny #trans!dash's mom #maddie fenton #kitty (ghosts)#ember mclain #phic #penelope spectra #tw:transphobia #tw: gender dysphoria #jazz fenton

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casuallyimagining · 3 years

Text

Mutual Feelings

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook is nervous because you haven’t told him you love him; you have an important question for him. Genre: fluff Notes: Part of the Long Term Couples series. Read more here

If, last year, someone had asked Jungkook if he was cool with being in a relationship with someone who seemed physically resistant to saying the words ‘I love you’ in a meaningful way, he would have said absolutely not. Jungkook’s a patient man, but even he has limits. He likes to feel solid in his relationships, likes to not have any questions left on the table. He thinks he’s an open book, and he likes his partners to be the same way.

When he let those three words slip out not even a month into your relationship, he had mentally kicked himself. He had thought it was too soon, but he was trying to reassure you and they had tumbled out of his fat mouth before he could stop them. As it turned out, he hadn’t stopped saying them since.

You, on the other hand, had somehow gone from the cheerful ‘I love you’s whispered between friends to not saying it at all, not even after he had said it, and not ever since. He had grown so used to them during your six years of friendship that going six months without felt a little empty.

You weren’t ready. It was a big step for you, and he understood. He just wished he knew if there was any way for him to help you want to take that step. That, coupled with the fact that intimacy beyond kissing was off the table meant that Jungkook was more unsure in this relationship than he had ever been before.

This was all so new. He’d had girlfriends in the past, but in the years of knowing you, he’d never heard you talk about anyone significant in your life. He wasn’t sure if you’d never dated anyone, or if you’d never dated anyone that mattered, but at this point, he wasn’t sure that was important. Your friendship meant the world to him–you meant the world to him–and he was just so worried about losing that.

So he was second guessing himself constantly. Was he wrong to tell you he loved you so soon? Did he make a mistake in assuming you would want to see him both at work and at home every day? Had he been too forward when he drunkenly asked you out? Not forward enough the next day when you confronted him about it? Did he make enough time for you? Was he letting you know how he felt often enough, or was he smothering you?

Jungkook had thought that he had known you so well back when you were still just friends, but now… he had trouble reading you. He supposed that it was because you wouldn’t outright tell him how you felt.

Although, it wasn’t like you didn’t love him. Hearing the words would be nice, but the fact that you didn’t say them didn’t mean you didn’t feel them. And Jungkook definitely felt loved.

He felt it when he pushed himself too hard at rehearsals and performances. Not only were you there to take care of him, you scolded him for not taking care of himself. He knew you appreciated his work ethic and dedication, but the fact that you could hold an ice pack to his neck, pet his hair, and yell at him all at the same time honestly made his heart swell.

And he felt it when he screwed up his heel in London. You were there, distracting him from the pain before the concert, and helping pick him up when it was over. He had been devastated to not be able to perform, to be confined to a chair on stage, but having you dote on him afterwards almost made it better. And while you weren’t dating at the time, Jungkook knew that you wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing again, since every time there was even the threat of an injury, you were at his side.

It was there when he had showed up on your doorstep with a dog and you had just gone with it. He had rightfully expected some pushback, but he hadn’t quite expected just how quickly you had agreed. He prepared a speech! He had rehearsed that speech the whole way from the pet store to your apartment! But he loved that you trusted him enough to take in his dog, he loved that you were comfortable enough around him to be spontaneous like that, and he loved that, even in just the couple weeks that you had Kimchi, you had fallen in love with the puppy. He may have paid the adoption fees, but you both knew that Kimchi had quickly become your dog.

He felt it when you jumped to defend him, like his own personal knight in shining armor, fighting for his honor. It didn’t matter if it was something you saw on Twitter, one of the other guys, or even himself–you got heated about it all the same. You had a secret account on almost every social platform just to yell at people on his behalf. You would playfully scold the guys when their teasing got a little too intense. And you always stopped him when he got too down on himself. In fact, you had been the one to first introduce him to the “you shouldn’t be mean to my best friend” rebuke.

He even felt it in how fiercely competitive you could be. Jungkook loved that you could go from defending him in one breath to threatening to smother him in his sleep in the next. He had gotten you into Overwatch, and he had expanded his gaming repertoire based on your tastes, and honestly he was never happier than he was curled up in bed playing video games with you, and at this point, he was convinced that you felt the same.

It was there in the late night texts you sent him when the two of you spent the night apart, and in the early morning phone calls he received the following morning. It didn’t matter if the two of you were in different timezones, you always texted him goodnight. And while he might not always be awake enough to respond, he had started looking forward to those short messages. And then the next morning, he was always happy to answer the phone when you called, even if you woke him up with the call. There was something about your cheerful ‘good morning!,’ especially if he knew it was three in the afternoon for you.

So while he definitely would prefer to hear you say it, Jungkook supposed that he could wait a little longer, because your actions spoke louder than any words.

He thought about this as he worked, the task of washing that night’s dinner dishes mindless enough that he could safely let his mind wander without risking too much. You, too, were in your own little world, drying the dishes and bopping around to the music blasting out of the little bluetooth speaker you kept in your kitchen.

Dinner had been tense that night. Not because anything was particularly wrong–or, at least, Jungkook didn’t know of anything that was wrong–just because you seemed incredibly nervous, and he wasn’t sure why. But the entire time you helped him cook and while the two of you were sitting in front of the tv watching YouTube videos and eating, he could feel the nervous energy rolling off you. He wanted to ask, but every time it crossed his mind, it didn’t seem like a good time.

The song changed, Jungkook smiled at the opening notes to “My Time” wafting out of the speaker. He loved that you loved his music. You grabbed the wet skillet off the counter as you started to hum along, and he watched you out of the corner of his eye. Once it was dry, you placed the skillet on your stove–you used it for everything, so he supposed you never saw the need to properly put it away.

You continued to hum as he let the water out of the sink, the dishes finally complete. With a sigh, you tossed your towel down on the counter and leaned against the cabinets below, watching him rinse the last of the bubbles down the drain.

“So I’ve been thinking.” Jungkook noted the hint of nerves in your voice. “And, I mean, you’re totally allowed to say no to this, I just figured I’d ask-”

“Babe. Breathe,” he joked, flicking some water off his hands in your direction. You giggled, leaning away slightly from his attack. He placed a hand on your hip, tugging slightly and pulling you closer. His other arm snaked around your waist as soon as you were close enough, holding you loosely against his body.

“I was wondering,” you started again, placing your hands on his chest and playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt. “If maybe you wanted to move in?”

Jungkook could feel his heart start to pound in his chest. He was sure that you could feel it, being as close as you were. Was this what you were nervous about earlier?

“I mean, you’re over here most of the time, anyway. And Kimchi’s here.” You glanced at the brown and tan dog napping under your breakfast nook. “I know the dorm’s convenient, so if you want to leave some stuff there, that’s fine. But I wanted to offer.”

He couldn’t help the goofy smile spreading across his face. Honestly, Jungkook hadn’t expected your relationship to move this far this quickly. But he wasn’t complaining. At this point, a good majority of his clothes were at your apartment–he still had the bag tucked into your closet, but he had also lost count of the number of hoodies and sweatpants and t-shirts he had left here that he just hadn’t bothered to take back to the dorm. His laptop was here, his PS4 was here, his dog was here, you were here, and really, that’s all he needed.

“Sure.” He nodded, his eyes meeting yours. You looked happy, which only made his smile grow. He could feel his face start to heat up, and for a second, he felt like a teenager again, confronted by his noona crush. It was weird–and a little fitting considering the song that was still playing–for him to realize that he had never had that experience in school. “I would like that a lot.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook nodded, his hand covering yours on his chest. “We’re going to need new furniture.” Your eyes sparkled as you said it, and he couldn’t tell if you were joking.

“Please tell me you didn’t just ask me to move in so you had an excuse to get a new couch.”

You hummed, one of your hands tangling in the long hair at the back of his neck. You smiled at him–it was innocent enough, but he could see mischief in it, too. “Not at all.” Your lips brushed against his softly. “But if we could celebrate the occasion with a new couch, who am I to argue?”

Jungkook laughed and buried his face in the crook of your neck. He felt it then, too, standing there in your kitchen, your arms wrapped tightly around him. You didn’t need to say it, not yet at least. He knew.

You loved him. And the feeling was absolutely mutual.