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hops-hunny · 3 years

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Girls Like Her

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Black!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7k

Request: N/A

Summary: In which Kyoya is smitten and not afraid to show it.

Warnings: None! Fluff.

A/N: this is so self indulgent and I don't even care I NEEDED some Kyoya with a black girl bc where's all the color in the ouran community??

Kyoya had a fine eye for spectacular things. Running the host club with Tamaki required it. He was always looking for something of interest that he knew the guest would like and that would bring in a nice bit of money as well. That's why he was mesmerized when he saw (Y/n). Sure, Kyoya had seen girls that were deemed "beautiful" by whatever measure of beauty the rest of his high class socialite peers thought. However, he had never put much thought into what he personally found beautiful but now thanks to her, he didn't need to.

Sure he had seen women with nice skin. It wasn't very uncommon. Going to school with girls whose parents made most people's yearly salary in a day meant they were well cared for. They took care of their skin with the finest of products, as did he. However her skin was unmatched. Nice hues of brown which glowed beautifully in the soft daylight of music room 3. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. Smooth and brown all over like a bewitching goddess. And sure other girls had hair. It was all a blur to him however, nothing he could point out or was anything but ordinary. All of it was the same straight hair in the same bland style. But hers however?

She wore some of the most elaborate styles he had ever seen. He didn't know the proper names for them at first but the more she visited the host club, the more he'd overhear her speak about them to the other guest. Box braids, goddess twist, faux locs. Each style suited and complimented her well. Anytime she'd change it up he'd observe it carefully, viewing every bump and turn on the art that was her hair. His favorite though was when she'd wear it naturally.

God was it a sight. A large, picked to perfection afro atop her head like the crown a princess, no, a queen of her caliber should have. It reminded him of the clouds in the sky he'd see on a nice summer afternoon except far more eye catching and far more mesmerizing.

"Tamaki?" Kyoya questioned, looking up at his blonde friend. The last few of the guest had trickled out by now.

"Yes mommy dear?" He quipped, walking over to his raven haired friend.

"Is there a reason we don't see Lady (L/n) any time other than the host club? How come I've never seen her in any of our classes?" He asked, trying to ignore the stupid look Tamaki had on his face.

"Kyoya, are you in love?! Oh how amazing! I always knew this wo-"

"Forget it, this is a waste of time." He began to head to the door but stopped as Tamaki stopped his path.

"Wait! (L/N) as in (Y/n) (L/n) right? She's a year below us, that's why you probably never see her outside of class. We don't have any classes with her except lunch if you count that." Kyoya hummed at the man's words before walking to the door, opening it.

"Thank you." He said, giving him a nod of acknowledgement.

"No problem, dear friend."

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

Kyoya stood behind his podium, greeting guests as they came through. He offered each of them the same fake smile he'd give, confirming their host choice for the day. He never cared too much to remember faces, just the different things they'd enjoy and how he could make profit off of them. Well everyone except-

"Kyooo! What's up? How ya doin today?" She chirped, leaning close to him as she offered him a bright smile from behind her supple plump lips. He smiled down at her, a genuine one (not that he'd ever let anyone know that).

"Ah, lady (L/n). A pleasure to see you as always. Your usual I presume?" He said, searching for the twins' names as he went to check the mark.

"Actually I thought I'd switch things up today!"

"Really? Who will it be then?" Whoever it was would be so lucky to be graced with the girl's presence. Her smile grew wider at his question as she leaned even closer.

"You! You do host right? I haven't seen anyone come to you for some time." She mused, resting a brown hand on his arm. Normally he'd remove himself from anyone's touch but for her he didn't mind so much. He'd even go as far as to say he enjoyed it. "Any excuse to stare at that nice face of yours longer."

'The same could be said even more so about you, darling.' Is what he wanted to say but consumed by his own nerves he let them get the best of him. "Usually I find myself too busy to," he started, noticing her face drop, "However I can always make exceptions for ladies of such high beauty as yourself, princess." She smiled, heading over to the empty table that Kyoya rarely hosts at. She sat on the couch across from him, fiddling and moving around as usual. (Y/n) was an unusual energetic girl who found that she couldn't sit still for more than a few seconds, which was a trait that usually drove him up the wall but when it came to her he found it to be quite cute.

“You’re not going to eat or drink anything?” (Y/n) asked, shoving her mouth with the tiny tea cakes that sat on the silver cake stand. Kyoya let a soft smile take his face as he watched her. He always kept them hidden in the back because he knew they were her favorite and they were far more expensive than anything else they served. The cakes themselves were imported from France daily which was obviously a pretty penny but, he didn’t mind. The smile on her face made it worth the extra bit of cash.

“I’m not much of a fan of sugar, it’s bad for your skin.” he stated, looking down at the little black book in his hands. She hummed processing his words before wiping her mouth off with a napkin.

“Well what do you usually drink? I wanna have the same thing as you!”

“I’m a fan of earl grey served black. No sugar, no cream.” he said. She eyed him carefully before giggling. She leaned in close, looking into his dark eyes as he stared back.

“Yeah you seem to be quite the fan of,” she cleared her throat to hide a giggle. “Black things.” Kyoya set his cup down, choking on the liquid. (Y/n) sat back in her seat satisfied, laughing loudly as she threw her head back. A few of the guests stared at her with angry eyes, upset by her mild disturbance. But, she didn’t care. She never did. Once his choking died down, she sent him a wink. “I’m only messing with you, Kyo-chan! Lightin up will yeah? Anyways I’d like to have a cup of what you're drinking. It couldn’t be too bad, right?”

Wrong, she had been deeply wrong. Kyoya smiled in amusement as she sputtered out the tea, coughing dramatically. “Is it not to your liking, dear?” he asked in a sarcastically cheerful tone.

“Like hell it is! This shit is gross.” she began to pout, pushing the cup away from her. “I’d like my usual back please.” she said, looking up at him. He felt his face heat up slightly as he nodded his head, grabbing her cup before heading off with it. He searched the shelves carefully before finding her usual and preparing the way he knew she liked it. Too much sugar and too much cream. He chuckled at the thought, 'it suits her.'

(Y/n) smiled as he returned with her cup taking a sip as she let out a sigh of content. "As much as I'm enjoying my time with you today, my lady, I'm curious about your sudden shift. You always without a doubt choose the twins." He questioned, watching as she delicately set her cup down on the wooden table. He admired her presence. She was graceful but in a way he had never seen before, unique just like everything else about her.

"Do you want the real answer or the fake answer?" She questioned, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. Kyoya had a split second of a confused look before offering her another smile.

"Honestly is the best policy, my dear."

"Well- you see- ugh!" She huffed, slouching back in her seat. He couldn't help but find it adorable how the big ugly yellow dress swallowed her whole during that action. "I always wanna request for you Kyo-chan but you always seem so busy, so distant. I figured I'd let you have your own peace." She leaned forward on her hand as she rested her elbow on the table. "And besides, I've seen you reject to host much prettier girls so why would you host me?"

Kyoya's eyes widened at the (h/c) haired girls announcement. Prettier girls, than her? Too busy, for her? He chuckled some catching the girl's attention. Before she could ask him what was up he began to speak. "I don't mean to laugh in your face princess but I think you've got it twisted." He stood up, pulling the girl close to his chest. The other host watched with wide eyes and their mouths open at Kyoya's uncharacteristic behavior. "There are no prettier girls nor is there anyone I'd rather spend my time with," he tilted her head up bringing his face closer to hers, "Than you." (Y/n) stood there breathless at his words. Her eyes gleamed brightly at his confession.

"Are you busy this weekend?" She asked him faintly.

"Well, I'd have t-"

"Well now you're not. Take me on a date." His eyes widened at her forwardness before laughing softly. She did have a way of doing that, leading the way in any conversation no matter what the topic.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" He teased, pulling back from his hold to push his glasses up his nose. "Either way, alright dear. How could I say no to you?"

Tamaki watched from a far with a hand over his heart, genuine tears falling out of his eyes. In all his time he had known Kyoya, he had never seen him passionate about much of anything. To see his friend so sure of himself, so content in his emotions moved him. Thank god for the sun that had taken away Kyoya from his rainy days.

#kyoya x reader #ohshc kyoya #kyoya ootori #kyoya x you #kyoya x y/n #kyoya ootori x reader #black!reader #black reader #poc!reader #poc reader

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a-supernatural-writer · 3 years

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hcs for poly! tlb with a fem! s/o who’s style is dark academia and is really blunt/logical and smart. she basically gives off a ‘mysterious, quiet, dark, critical’ vibe (she also doesn’t really know how to handle people who are extremely emotional and she doesn’t know how to soothe someone. she’s just really oblivious/clueless when it comes to others feelings). i’m so sorry if what i requested doesn’t make sense or if it was too much. i am seriously incapable of writing anything without making it look like an essay lmao. love your work btw 💕✨

Dark Academia Fem! S/O

Poly Lost Boys x Fem reader

I had so much fun writing this! I love the dark academia aesthetic! And it made perfect sense and it wasn’t too much! Having a lot actually helps me expand and write more so thank you. And I’m the same, once I have an idea, I write a lot, so you’re all good! And awww!!! Thank you!!! 💗💗✨✨ I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy!

Okay, so you are very different compared to the large number of characters on the boardwalk. Your style consisted of button shirts, sweaters or turtle necks, dress pants or a plaid pleated skirts, cardigans or waistcoats, oxford shoes or even wire framed glasses if you wore them for seeing or just for the look.

To say that you caught the boys attention would be an understatement. You seemed to stand out amongst the crowd and they became curious. You were a mystery to them and they love the challenge.

Somehow, someway, after days or weeks later, you became good friends which soon lead to you dating four trouble making punks. It was tough on both parts, but it happened, and hey, you weren’t complaining.

You were very blunt when you first met them, not really interested in them and more or less interested in the book in your hands. It took a lot of “accidental” run ins to even get you to hang out with them.

You slowly opened up when they offered to take you out for dinner at a local diner. They’re constant joking soon had you letting out small, almost whisper-like giggles and tiny smiles that sent them into a frenzy.

When you would start talking about yourself, your ideas of fun were different from theirs. You liked museums, opera houses, bookstores and going to theaters to see plays. The games you played were chess and cards, and the music you listened to was old. You were pretty sure they thought you were boring but you actually peaked their interest.

After a while of being friends with them, they asked you out. You liked them and the only logical step was to see if you liked them the same way they liked you was to date them, so you said yes.

In general, them having a girlfriend with a 1940s/1950s dark prep look was fun. David and Dwayne like it the most. Paul next, then Marko.

David actually really likes picking out your clothing on most days. You have an extensive collection of clothing with material from cashmere to linen, all the colors consisting of browns, black, cream and even a little dark green.

His favorite thing to put you in is trench coats. Doesn’t matter what color it is, he just likes seeing you in them. Also, there are a handful of times that he has MADE you wear his trench coat. Yeah it almost swimmed on you, but he thought it made you look cute and it fit in perfectly with your look.

Dark academia isn’t only your style, but it’s your way of life. David is the one that plays chess with you. You had to reteach it to him and pretty soon, the two of you had your own little set up in the cave that was always ready for a game of chess.

David is sort of like you… in a way when it comes to others feelings. But deep down he knows that he really likes you and tries to show it the best he can. He took you to a theater to see a play that you were constantly talking about and so he took you on a date. You being you, didn’t realize that’s what it was until he told it straight to your face. Let’s just say you were speechless for the next hour.

Also, when it’s just the two of you, deep inside the cave where your nest is, classical music is playing from your record player. It could be Beethoven, Tchaikovsky or Mozart. Whoever it is, David is the one that will listen to it with you the most. I think he really enjoys classical music and he enjoys it even more if the two of you are cuddling in your bed.

Occasionally Dwayne would join the two of you. You would be sitting in between David’s legs as Dwayne sat in between yours, his head leaning back against your chest. It was like a cuddle pile… cuddle train?? Whatever you wanted to call it, it was cuddling while the three of you relaxed listening to classical music. And it was darn cute.

Dwayne loves listening to you go on and on about any books you were reading at the moment. Whether or not it was nonfiction or even about any type of history. He was down. He lived through a lot and he knew about half of the stuff you gushed on about, but for some odd reason, it never bored him when you talked about it.

He would be the one to get you new books, leaving you sweet little notes tied to them. Of course you thought it was just him being nice and thanked him for it without thinking there was any romantic meaning behind it. Yeah he was one of your boyfriends but it never really crossed your mind that way. He would just shake his head at your obliviousness and give you a small peck on the lips.

Don’t ask him why, but his favorite look on you is a light cream colored blouse with a plaid skirt and Mary Jane shoes. Dwayne is a leg man so… he’s very happy when decide to show off some skin if you decide not to wear knee-socks or stockings with it. Even if you did wear them, he would still be attached to your side the entire night.

Like David, Dwayne would bring you out to a lot of places that were opened late at night. If there was an art exhibition in town or even a museum that was open late, just say the word and he will happily drive you on his bike. Heck, David might even tag along.

Also, late night bookstore dates… oh my heart, it’s too sweet it hurts. There are times that he does have to throw you over his shoulder when the bookstore is closing and you're pretty much refusing to leave. When he does that, you just stay frozen over his shoulder, not knowing if you should be blushing or cursing at him for carrying you like a sack of potatoes.

If anything, you and Dwayne connect very well. You’re naturally very quiet and so is he. Not much is said between you two but there's a mutual understanding that can’t be explained. While the others are out causing trouble, you and him are on the sidelines watching hand in hand or your reading and he's just staring at you as you do so.

Paul and Marko kind of give you whiplash. They’re loud and rowdy and definitely 100% opposite from you. But they interested you. They had a very chaotic outlook on life which made you ask many questions.

Paul found your look sexy. He’s horny and you give off preppy school vibes, he’s living for it 24/7. Constant teasing of you giving him ‘private lessons’ which results with you whacking a book against the back of his head. But it doesn’t stop the reddening of your ears which doesn’t make him stop.

This man is also your designated jewelry expert. You only wear some accessories and they're very simple. So you are very surprised when Paul finds you jewelry that is your style and collects it for you. You like leather watches, guess what, he’s got it for you. You want some fancy victorian looking brooches, he’s got that too. Simple rings with a single jewel in the middle, expect constant ‘will you marry me’ jokes, but he gets you the best.

Also, he’s not overly big into your music selection. He does try to get you into his type of music, which you only like very few and far between. But when you do get him to listen to your type of music, it’s only if you agree to listen to his music the next night. You guys come up with a system and decide to switch every few nights.

Each of the boys have their favorite look on you and Paul's is when you wear a button-up of any color with a simple black tie, a pencil skirt and a pair of Dr.Marten boots. He especially likes the tie… for reasons. God damn it, you know the reasons, get out of here.

He’s a very affectionate boy and he finds your looks over confusion some of the cutest shit he’s ever seen. Probably the first one to tell you that he loves you and you honestly like glitched out. Did you feel the same way? Yes, but poor little thing you doesn’t say it right away, but Paul knows that you aren’t really used to saying things like that without warming up to it. Which is okay. He knows even if you don’t say it.

He definitely steals one of your blazers to put pins on it. Marko helps, putting a few patches on it that they both know you would like. It’s the one item that stands out in all of your clothing and you will wear it if they ask you to.

Marko definitely thinks the look is cute and it suits you very well, but why no color?! You wear dark colors but nothing bright like the colors that are on his jacket. He tries to slip in some colorful clothing into your everyday look, it never goes as planned but you give him an A for effort.

He loves how dark you can be at times though. You want to go to a local graveyard just because? Sure! Let’s go! He’s your designated graveyard buddy. You have many date nights there, looking at all the different gravestones and finding it interesting when you jot down some names in one of your notebooks.

Speaking of notebooks, you have many of them. They were filled with notes from books you’ve read, real life observations or even just some random poetry and short stories that you wrote. Marko would go through them a lot and even sometimes draw little doodles or rough sketches that were thought up from your writings.

When you spend nights down at the Boardwalk, your go to drink isn’t a slushie or a milkshake or even a soda. It’s coffee or tea. Yeah, and only Marko knows your drink orders by heart. None of the others seem to remember them correctly which you thank them for trying but Marko has got them all beat.

Marko likes seeing you in sweaters and in your trousers or linen shorts with chelsea boots. If anything, when the two of you are alone, just wearing a knit sweater and shorts were perfect for him. He likes how cozy and warm you look. He’s very happy when he cuddles you and you are warm.

Now when they tell you that they’re vampires, you think that they’re joking. Vampires aren’t real, they’re a work of fiction. Yes there was a real man named Dracula, but there was no way that they were actual vampires.

Then they showed you hard proof and then there was no denying it at that point. Instead of running away, you were fascinated. You wanted to understand your boyfriends vampire ways that lead to you conducting extensive research and a notebook dedicated to them.

They showed you everything about them, how they feed, to which you didn’t bat an eyelash of watching them feed one night. You were one morbid chick but they saw that as a plus that you didn’t react. You had graveyard dates for crying out loud, nothing really surprised them at that point.

Flying came next and they had a lot of fun showing you just how high they could go with you in their arms. You never screamed at the height, you were too caught up in seeing the overhead view of the town. You could get used to seeing a view like that every night.

Then came the other things; how they slept before you came along, what actually hurt them and what didn’t. There was one time that you stared at their vampire faces for hours because you were taking notes on how their facial features changed.

Soon you had to stock up on more turtlenecks because of the many bite marks they would leave behind from feeding on you if the weather was bad one night. It wasn’t tough adapting to their occasional feeding. A lot of your clothing already covered up your skin so it was easy to hide from people on your nights out.

Not too long after, they popped the question. Would you want to be a vampire? Live forever, never grow up? Be with them for all eternity? You didn’t really need to think about it for too long, you knew what your answer was and so did they even if you didn’t say it out loud. You loved your boys and not much would change.

When you did change, it was entertaining for them to watch. You soon started taking down notes about your progress, comparing and contrasting your experience to their own.

To the eyes of many, you became even more dark and mysterious. You had an aura around you that drew people in, it’s what got you your four vampire boyfriends, only now, it brought in your meal for the night.

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penguintransporter · 3 years

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Tiny Clouds (Serge Gnabry oneshot)

You need to ban me from here 😂 I don’t know if it’s the fact that I am on my holidays, or if it’s my mum’s homecooked food, but I have been writing and updating more than ever before. Anyway, you should all thank @disneydaddyevans for giving me the idea to write this little piece that is so cheesy, but I couldn’t help myself. Inspired by his fashion sense and the overall cuteness that the man oozes. Read, heart, reblog, and tell me what you think about it. Also, I wasn’t sure if I should use to name for my OC or just “Y/N”, so I stuck with the way I usually write.

“Max… Max—Maximillian,” Dolores hissed quietly, stopping dead in her tracks, barely fifty meters away from where they were heading. “That,” she pointed her index finger at the outside of the Museum of Urban and Contemporary Art with a horror-stricken face, “it doesn’t look like a regular exhibition opening. Look at all the press. Are you sure they will let me come in wearing this?”

“There is nothing wrong with your outfit, Lola,” her friend replied, using her nickname – a deep chuckle escaping his throat. She couldn’t help but glance down at her attire, narrowing her eyes at the worn-out jeans and a woolly pullover she had knitted for herself, some two years ago. It was already losing its shape and growing lint on several spots.

When Maximilian asked if she would like to join him for an exhibition opening, Lola agreed without thinking twice, not expecting to be thrown into the middle of what seemed to be a huge media fuss. If she was being frank, she could have googled what the exhibition was about or what the artist’s name was, but with her long shifts at work and three papers due for her night courses at the university, Lola completely forgot to do so.

“If you say so,” she mumbled back, glancing once again at her outfit – eyes narrowing at the stubborn stain on her Converse high-tops. For a moment she contemplated licking her thumb and trying to rub the dark spot away, but she decided against it once she realised that it was highly unhygienic and probably a very weird thing to do in front of all the people that mingled around her.

It wasn’t like she hated or didn’t like fashion – on contrary, she thought it was fun, but Lola found comfort in being practical rather than being stylish, and the older she got, the more overwhelmed she felt with the fast pace of fashion and trends in general. There were too many terms, too many weird combinations being pushed in the foreground, so she decided that it would be the best for her if she stood on the sidelines of it all like a spectator rather than participant.

“I am being honest,” Max added as she caught up with him and they slowly made their way towards the entrance – camera flashes that tried to capture very important people hurting Lola’s eyes. “Moreover, I think that jumper is incredibly cute with its tiny clouds. Or are those sheep?” Max asked, grinning down at her as he adjusted the collar on his trench-coat.

“Tiny clouds,” Lola remarked, “better than your Inspector Gadget coat though, if you ask me,” she joked back, making her friend laugh out loud before he placed his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the crowd.

The main exhibition room wasn’t as packed as Lola had expected it to be, and once they were ushered inside by an artist friend of Max, they made their way around it - slow-paced and without any rush or pressure. They stopped ever so often to read the description, comment or even chuckle on some of the art pieces that they didn’t find very interesting.

Lola had visited the museum only a handful of times before this, but whenever she was here she enjoyed the look and feel of it. From the minimalistic approach to the main rooms and furniture, to the small and narrow hallways that led to different rooms with unique art exhibitions and graffiti on the wall.

“Maximilian!” a deep, mature voice called out from across the large room, and Lola reflexively turned her head in the direction of it before seeing a tall and a lanky man in a pressed suit trousers and white button down striding towards them. She could vaguely recognise his face as one of Max’s artist friends, but she couldn’t remember his name. “Maximilian,” he repeated as he stepped closer, blocking Lola’s view of the art installation in front of them, forcing her to look away from it, “there is someone I want you to meet,” he breathed out as both, Max and Lola curiously peered at him. “He doesn’t have a lot of time, but he plays for your favourite team, so I thought you’d be happy to meet him.”

“Maximilian, this is Serge. Serge, this is Maximilian, and…,” the artist friend trailed off, looking down at Lola with an awkward smile, “sorry dear, but I don’t remember your name.”

Lola smiled back nervously, shifting on her feet a little. “Dolores,” she answered, looking first at the man in front of her before glancing at the good-looking athlete only to find him looking back at her curiously, “or Lola for short. Nice to meet you.”

“It’s lovely to meet both of you,” Serge replied politely, sticking both of his hands in the pockets of his wide trousers, and Lola couldn’t help but glance at his well-put outfit that looked very expensive and taken care of. “Are you an artist too?” Serge asked looking in Maximillian’s direction.

“No, no,” Max replied, mimicking Serge’s posture, “just enthusiast. By the way, great season with the team...”

Next to them, Lola was wringing the exhibition brochure she picked up on the entrance in her sweaty palms - bits of the paper sticking to her skin. She wasn’t shy or easily intimidated by other people, but there was something about being in the crowd that made one stick out like a sore thumb with her outfit. It was turning her into a nervous wreck even if she didn’t want that.

Having Serge Gnabry in front of her didn’t help either.

“And what about you, Lola?”

Lola felt her heartbeat quicken at the sound of Serge’s voice saying her name, and when she looked up at him, slightly confused, he had a gentle smile on his face, patiently waiting for her answer. His brown eyes were focused on her face and her eyes, and she suddenly felt at loss of words.

“Lola is not an artist either, but an avid knitter instead,” Max interjected with a grin, and Lola looked away from Serge’s eyes and up at her friend – her eyes narrowing a little. “She’s once knitted an entire winter scarf on her way to Hamburg,” he added as Lola felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but she managed to push it away casually.

“It was a nice scarf, though,” Lola sheepishly smiled, feeling the insides of her stomach flip excitedly when Serge chuckled before the silence fell upon the three of them. To keep her thoughts straight, she looked down at her smudged Converse, knowing that Serge probably waited for her to elaborate or keep the conversation going. The only problem was that her mind was blank, her palms sweaty, and all the words she wanted to say seemed to be stuck inside her throat. “I real—really enjoy knitti—,”

“—Serge!” a middle-aged woman wearing a shapeless dress and thick, white-rimmed glasses approached them in a hurry, interrupting Lola in the middle of her sentence. “We have Thibaut from Revver magazine outside. It would be lovely if you could just answer few questions for him.” The woman sent an apologetic smile towards Lola, and Lola only smiled back weakly, not really knowing what else to do.

She looked away to mask her disappointed for ruining her chance of talking to Serge, not noticing the lingering gaze he gave her before he walked away.

An hour into the evening, Lola found herself walking along one of the walls covered in graffiti on her own after Max excused himself to go outside for a “much needed smoke”. Rather than just standing alone and waiting for her friend to come back, Lola continued to walk along the painted walls before seeing another room that was adjacent to the main room, and which seemed to be empty.

Smiling at the several people who quietly talked among themselves outside, Lola pushed her way inside, quickly being mesmerized by the colours and style of the art that occupied the tiny space she was in. It was a collection of the tall yet narrow murals – each one describing a different story that captivated Lola’s curiosity, and she found herself forgetting about the time.

“You don’t like to talk much, do you?”

Lola looked in the direction of the voice before shyly smiling once she realised it was Serge who stood behind her. Quickly, she looked away, feeling her cheeks redden at his words. He moved closer, stepping mere few meters away from her before interlacing his fingers behind his back as he observed the same mural as she did – his lips curled into small smile.

Lola breathed out a short breath before opening her mouth to speak. “It’s actually difficult to shut me up once I get started, but I easily get intimidated around people who…,” she trailed off, unsure in how to phrase her ridiculous insecurities, “nevermind,” she finished, glancing towards Serge for a brief second.

“Are you intimidated by flesh and blood, Lola?” he asked before stopping for a second, “That’s your name, right?”

She nodded, stepping closer to the wall, reaching out to touch it, as if that would help her figure out what kind of materials did they use for it.

“Flesh and blood in trendy, expensive clothes. I will be honest with you,” Lola shook her head a little, pointing at the large museum room where the actual exhibition was presented, “I felt so out of place over there, so I came here.”

“Well, maybe they are expensive,” Serge commented with an amused smirk, “but how many of us are actually wearing a knitted pullover we made ourselves. That’s the real style, if you ask me.”

Lola felt the warmth evade her face yet again as she moved away from the wall, straightening her back and looking at him. “How do you know I knitted it?”

“Pure guess,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “Did I guess right?”

“Yeah,” Lola admitted, “And these are tiny clouds, by the way, not sheep,” she quickly added making Serge chuckle a little. “It’s the confidence and courage,” she muttered, and Serge muttered a small ‘mhmm’, urging her to continue. “I wish I had the courage to experiment a bit more. For example, I like what you are wearing. It’s very,” Lola stopped for a moment, thinking of the word to use for his immaculate outfit, “…fashionable.”

Serge laughed a little at her words, and she curiously peered up at him, waiting for him to speak.

“I don’t think there is anything wrong with what you are wearing,” he responded, looking down at her, “but here…” he trailed off as he turned around to face her before untying the neckerchief he was wearing around his neck and holding it out for her. “May I?” he asked, taking a step closer, and Lola felt her heart start beating faster because of his proximity but she nodded slowly. Serge nodded as well before putting the scarf around her neck, tying it in a loose knot. “There you go,” he mumbled.

Lola smiled, looking down at his hands as he adjusted the ends of the scarf, folding them so that they sat nicely against the curve of her neck.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, touching the neckerchief with her fingers – the silky material soft against her skin.

“Now you’re wearing something fashionable,” Serge commented, emphasizing the word ‘fashionable’ with air-quotes.

“Fashionable, I guess,” Lola smirked, “but you should take it back. It feels so wrong to wear it,” she added with a small and nervous laugh.

“Wear it tonight, and you can give it back to me some other time,” Serge replied, sticking his hands in the pockets of his loose trousers, turning around so that he was facing the wall again. “That’s if you want to meet up, of course.”

Lola was quiet for a moment, trying to stop the butterflies in her stomach from going crazy, but she couldn’t stop the smile that made its way on her face.

“I do,” she answered, moving so that she was standing next to him – her eyes trying to focus on the tiny details on the mural. “I do want to meet up.”

They stood next to each other in silence for a few seconds – neither of them looking away from the wall. “Friday maybe? Sunday afternoon works too. We don’t have to dress up.”

“Friday works for me,” Lola answered, “but if we wait on Sunday you might get a pair of knitted mittens as a thank you gift for making me look,” she stopped to raise her hands in air-quotes, “fashionable.”

“Only if they come with tiny clouds,” he stated, looking at her at the same time as she looked up at him.

“If you want,”

Serge nodded – his eyes never leaving hers. “Then it’s Sunday afternoon.”

“It is,” Lola nodded.

“Perfect.”

Thank you for reading, and this really needs some editing. I apologise.

#serge gnabry #bayern munich #football fanfic #football fanfiction #football imagine #serge gnabry imagine #serge gnabry fanfiction #football oneshot #bayern munich fanfiction #german nt

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coeurdastronaute · 3 years

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Essays in Existentialism: Plus One, Ch. 2

Previously on Plus One

It oscillated every other minute between being an amazing idea, but also being the worst idea of all time, and Lexa was mostly exhausted of bouncing back and forth. It might be easier, she decided, if she just got herself on board with it being a good idea, but a deep, gnawing hole seemed to manifest itself in her gut at the very thought of seeing her ex.

As she went through the motions of finishing the day, of doing inventory because it was Wednesday, Lexa tried not to distract herself with the thoughts of her impending trip. In just forty-eight hours, she’d be face to face with Costia, who she hadn’t seen in months, who she avoided before occasionally running awkwardly into each other at mutual friends’ events. She’d come face to face with her ex who was getting married.

And she was going to do it with a complete stranger on her arm.

With a heavy sigh, Lexa tossed her clipboard on her tiny desk in the storage closet and plopped down in the squeaky chair, tipping it back with a wail. Her sister was the worst.

It was quiet in the shop, closed for just a handful of hours, Lexa always took a day to inventory and repair the damage of the week. She enjoyed the late evening work, when her workers were gone, and the shop was empty and full of dreams. No one knew how the cabinets stayed so clean, or how the scratches on table tops got sanded and fixed, or how the wobbly table by the window was miraculous cured one day, or how the ceiling fans got dusted, just that it all happened, and Lexa was off, meaning she didn’t come in until at least ten, the following morning.

But Lexa sat in the chair and let her brain do the same mental gymnastics it always seemed to do in the new quiet she found herself craving. She opened her laptop and ignored the awaiting spreadsheet, and instead opted to look over the answer Clarke had given her to the “Know your partner” quiz Clarke googled and made them both do. A mix of basic information and Newlywed Game style innuendos, Lexa filled hers out after a bottle of wine and anxiously waited for Clarke’s.

That was what started the daydreaming. She scrolled through Clarke’s answers and furrowed, doing her best to memorizing all that she could, as if she’d be tested on it all, as if it’d be impossible to believe she could be happy with someone like Clarke.

And when those thoughts started to seep into her brain, Lexa leaned back again and dug the tips of her fingers into her eyes.

In a week it’d be over.

And with that and a deep, heavy sigh, Lexa looked at the screen again and went about learning Clarke.

She started professionally, of course, looking at her corporate page and resume, because this was, if not anything, simply a business transaction and Lexa thought it was easier to parse a person if she didn’t actually have to fall for her.

A graphic designer at Anya’s firm, Clarke held accolades and a long list of references. The link to her work showed a wide range of commercial campaigns and a certain amount of talent evident by her list of upcoming projects. A graduate of a small, private, liberal arts university, her academics leaned heavily scientific, which was a surprise until Lexa read some of the answers in the survey about a degree in physics given up for art.

Lexa promised that she wouldn’t have looked at Clarke’s Instagram if Clarke hadn’t requested her first. She wasn’t someone who lurked, or at least she thought she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be someone who snuck around, digging through someone’s past, analyzing every filter and caption like a private investigator. But then Clarke appeared.

And there were pictures of Clarke with friends getting drinks on a rooftop. And then the one with her laughing and baking. Or the Christmas party where she was on a corporate Santa’s lap, smiling so wide her eyes were shut. Despite herself Lexa found herself smiling along with the girl in the pictures. The one who went hiking with a pack of dogs, and the one who seemed to always be eating something. The one who had a lot of friends and enjoyed making them smile and laugh. The girl who posted storie about her morning run, and the girl who seemed to have a healthy work life balance.

Lexa closed the webpages and stared at her inventory for exactly two seconds before curiosity won again and Lexa started looking at Costia’s account. There were the standard pictures of her pre-wedding planning. There was Costia working out. There was her new bride-to-be, happy and smiling at a gift for her birthday.

And then a throwback that made Lexa’s stomach drop as she stared at a familiar image of Costia smiling in a bikini on a beach. It was from the last trip they took. Lexa was the one behind the camera.

Three weeks after that picture was taken, Lexa walked in on Costia and a girl in the middle of the afternoon. Right in their own bed. Only to then discover it’d been going on for months. And it wasn’t the first. And then, Lexa didn’t remember much except that she moved into the apartment above her coffee shop and woke up one morning alone on sheets that weren’t familiar, in a room full of boxes.

It seemed even more difficult to start inventory after that shot to the gut.

But her phone went off, and Lexa leaned back in her chair after shutting the laptop again, wondering if that sinking feeling ever went away when it came to someone you love, or loved, or once loved, even for a moment. She didn’t have anything to compare it to, and she didn’t have any idea what love really was.

It felt like a deep wound was scratched open, the scab pulled back, and a burning numbness gnawing at the bottom of her spine. It felt like it would swallow her whole, and Lexa hated, more than anything, giving anyone the power to do anything as such over her.

Hey! Do you think this will go with your outfit?

An image came next, of Clarke in a dressing room wearing a very pretty dress, with very messy hair with her tongue sticking out. Lexa didn’t notice the gnawing feeling disappear.

We don’t have to match completely.

We do! Don’t you know how to date?

Not really.

Another picture of another dress came a moment later. Clarke was pretty. She was happy and silly and kind. It felt oddly normal, for as crazy as the whole scheme actually was.

I like that one, Lexa wrote, making sure to add a heart-eyed emoji to emphasize her point. Maybe that was flirting. Maybe she was allowed. She definitely needed more rules.

Good, I do too. It matches your tie, you know? And these heels will still leave you a little taller than me.

Sounds good to me!

Kind of excited. I guess I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow.

I’ll be the one at the bar.

I’ve heard it’s possible to find your soulmate at the airport. Something about the crossing of paths and time and space.

If my soulmate is a bottle of wine, then I reckon I might.

A love story for the ages.

Lexa smiled once more at her phone before tossing it to the side and letting her head drop to the desk. With a groan she growled into her hands and broke it down. She just needed to make it seventy-two hours. That was it. She could sleep for about twenty of those. She could drink for another twenty or more, if she really tried.

But this was it. This was the end.

And regardless of the weight of everything else, there was something satisfying about knowing it was almost over.

XXXXXXXXXX

The airport was absolutely teaming with bodies and people, weaving their way through the swelling crowds, loading and unloading the terminals at a constant, steady thumping rate, so regular one could set a watch to the heartbeat of the building.

Clarke adjusted her bag on her shoulder and tapped the ticket against her thigh as she moved through the security line. The nerves were coming for some reason. That was why she was at the airport three hours before the flight. She was anxious and needed a stiff drink and a few moments to catch her breath. She needed to escape the whirlwind she’d allowed herself to create.

Carefully, she made her way through the airport, checking the boards and finding her way to a seat in the empty waiting room. Not even an attendant waited at the kiosk.

Once again, she let herself awkwardly scroll on her phone, learning everything she could about her future date and weekend plans.

Lexa was nearly non-existent online. She didn’t have any pictures of herself. She rarely posted anything on her personal account, and when she did, it was just a book or a coffee or from a trip. She wasn’t one to enjoy being the center of attention, but when it came to her shop, she made sure to post almost daily, highlighting her employees and their recommendations, she made share to highlight events, she made sure to be as active as possible.

Anya had already warned Clarke that her sister was devoted to her work. She’d poured all of her effort into being successful and part of the community, and Clarke admired it, she just wished that there was more for her to see.

And so, once more, she flipped back to the long line of questions they’d filled out before giving up and gazing out the window at the planes coming and going.

For a moment, she allowed herself to think that she was doing something nice and good. It was an act of charity. It was the shake up Clarke needed and was selfishly trying to package as benevolent.

“You beat me, and I’m usually the first one here for a flight,” Lexa observed, walking up to Clarke, stealing her from her reverie.

“I like airports. Just waiting for true love to stroll up and introduce themselves.”

Lexa shoved her hands in her pockets, her bag balanced on her shoulder as she cautiously looked around, surveying the empty terminal slowly. Clarke watched her look around, smiled at the innocence of it. Enjoyed the way she ran her hand through her hair, mussing it up a bit and tossing it to another side.

“No one likes airports,” Lexa shook her head before taking the seat beside her.

“I do. They’re romantic.”

“Romantic?”

“You can get onto a plane, and a few hours later, you’re hundred of miles away, and it’s different weather, and it’s a different time zone. You can go to sleep in a different state. How can you not be romantic about that.”

“It’s a tin can filled with recycle air.”

“But there are peanuts.”

That did it. Lexa cracked a smile to herself and relaxed a little.

“I was going to be the first one here. Surprise you with coffee, but you beat me to it.”

“You are quite a good girlfriend. Someone clearly trained you well.”

Lexa shook her head, somewhat bashful, somewhat reserved. There was always something right there, just below the surface, obfuscated by a kind of resolve to never give anything away, not at any price. Clarke read it between words in their texts and emails, a glaring finality in the simple pixel of a period.

“Can I get you a coffee? Two creams, two sugar right?”

“You don’t have to--”

“It’s early and I’m trying to be charming. Allow me to somewhat repay you for this whole endeavour.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, darling.”

With the term of endearment, Lexa nodded, grinning into her chest as she stood and made her way across the terminal in search of sustenance. Clarke watched her take out her phone, texting her sister no doubt.

Once more, Clarke resumed the digging on her own, scrolling on her own phone at old pictures on Lexa’s profile. She was ready for fun, and she was ready to crack at that facade.

“I don’t know if this will help,” Lexa sighed as she sat down. “I didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Oh this won’t be good for me either,” Clarke said as she took a sip. “I’m a fairly nervous flyer.”

“And yet you let me get us both coffee.”

“You made a good point, and I’m prepared to be paid back all weekend.”

With another grin, Lexa leaned back, her arm going on the back of the chair that Clarke inhabited, naturally, with ease, with a level of comfort.

“Are you ready to tell me the story?”

“Which one is that?” Clarke turned to look at her date, returned from an absent moment.

“How we met.”

“How we met,” she nodded, her smile bordering on mischievous. “That’s simple. Don’t you remember? It was a very blustery Tuesday, and I was trying to escape the wind and rain. I almost tripped coming into your coffee shop, but you happened to be sweeping, and were kind enough to catch me.”

“You’re severely overestimating my reflexes.”

“Fine. I ran you over and we both ended up on our asses in the middle of the coffee shop. Coffee everywhere.”

“Sounds pretty likely.”

“And I knew right there, I was hooked. Those eyes, all angry and annoyed at me for not looking where I was going, despite my persistent defense that I’d been assaulted by the weather.”

“Why do I have to be the angry one?”

“Wouldn’t you be though?” Clarke returned, daring her to be contradicted.

“Maybe,” Lexa agreed over the lid of her cup, fretting with it nervously.

“So I crashed into you, and you bought be a coffee. I turned up every day after that until I finally asked you out. You took longer than I would have liked to answer me, but I accepted it anyway, and we’ve been madly in love ever since.”

“And when was this?”

“About eight months ago.”

“How’s it going so far?”

“Splendidly. I’ve already met your sister, who it happens that I work with, which is super convenient for everyone.”

Quietly, Lexa sat there, going over the story, going over all of the past eight months of apparent bliss in her head. Clarke watched her furrow before softening, her eyes not seeing, but rather looking through the window as a plane took off and another landed. The softening of her features was soon met with a perplexion, a slight, gentle contortion of the brow and the lips, a tightening as a kind of confusion overtook the ease of the entire story.

“Is it that easy?” Lexa asked quietly, turning her head toward her date. Clarke cocked her head, waiting for more. “Is all of it… just… a wind? Waiting for someone to just ask you out? Is it that easy? Does that happen to people?”

“It can. How does anything happen in the world? It just… does. The universe is just a series of things happening, all of the time, right?”

“But is it that easy?”

To her credit, Clarke thought about it. She flexed her jaw and took a deep breath before slowing letting it go as she wondered if it really was.

“I don’t know. Maybe it can be.”

“How?”

“I guess there has to be a balance to making things happen and letting things happen.”

“I don’t know if I’m good at either of those things,” Lexa confessed. She sat up straighter a moment later, afraid of her honesty, and surprised more by how easily it came out.

“I think you can be.”

“That’s probably too kind.”

“We’ll see.”

Clarke rubbed Lexa’s shoulder, rubbed the middle of her back between her shoulder blades until she reached the collar of her shirt, where she massaged her neck. She tensed before relaxing, and Clarke didn’t stop, just rubbed there gently, slowly until she knew it was enough and she trailed her palm back toward the seat.

It was right there, they just didn’t know it.

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kpopaddicted06 · 3 years

Text

The Neighbour – one shot

Summary: I didn’t knew moving would bring so many changes in my life.

pairing: ATEEZ Wooyoung x reader

genre: highschool au

type: fluff, angst

words: 8k

warnings: mention of - panic attack, anxiety, drugs, gang, violence; school bullying (kind of)

A/N: I hope you’ll like the story; have a wonderful day & thanks for reading it

I just moved in Seoul with my family yesterday. We came to this city because of my dad’s job promotion. He’s now a manager at a financial company here, my mother is working as a chef at a restaurant here too.

It’s saturday, my father is currently at work to meet with his boss and discuss some things before he’ll start working on monday. Me and my mom are at home unboxing our stuff when we hear the doorbell.

"Baby, can you open the door?" My mom yells from the second floor.

"Sure!"

When I open the door I’m greeted by a woman about my mom’s age. Her hair is black and she’s giving me a beautiful smile.

"Hello, sweetheart!"

"Hello. Can I help you?"

"I'm your neighbour, Mrs Jung. I just came to welcome you into our neighbourhood and invite your family over tomorrow for dinner, so we can get to know each other." Just when she’s done talking, my mom arrives behind me and answers her.

"Oh, hello! My name is Mirae and this is my daughter Y/N. We would love to come over for dinner, thank you for the invitation!" My mom smiles sweet at the lady in front of us.

"Great, I’ll be waiting for you around 7PM." Mrs. Jung responses delighted.

"Alright, see you tomorrow!"

We bid our goodbyes and I close the door.

"She seems really nice. We’re already making friends here Y/N." My mom is more than happy to make new friends already, since she’s a social butterfly, totally the opposite of me. I'm a shy introvert that becomes anxious around strangers or big crowds.

It's already sunday afternoon so we’re getting ready for the dinner with our neighbours.

I choose to wear a black blouse and a grey skirt with black boots. I let my hair down and put some light makeup on. After I take a final look at myself in the mirror to make sure I look good, I head down where my parents are already waiting for me.

When we arrive at our neighbours’s house, Mrs. Jung opens the door for us with a smile on her face just like the first time I’ve met her.

"Welcome! Please enter."

"Good evening, Mrs Jung." I say smiling back at her.

"Hi. Thanks again for inviting us. This is my husband, Hyungsik."

"Hello, it’s nice meeting you." My father says after my mother introduces him.

"Hello, I'm glad you could make it. My husband and sons are in the living room, that's straight ahead. I have to go back into the kitchen now or I’ll burn the dinner." She laughs a little then leaves through a door on the right.

In the living room the rest of the Jung family are sitting on a couch. Mr. Jung sees us first and comes to introduce himself, followed by two boys. He then presents us his sons and the older one, Wooyoung, scans me head to toe, then makes eye contact with me with an expressionless face and I can feel how my cheeks are getting warm from the blush, because I don’t like it when someone gives me attention. After a moment he averts his gaze from me.

He’s wearing a red hoodie with black sport pants, his hair is black and a little long, he also got a lot of piercings and rings. He looks really handsome and seems to be around my age.

We all wait in the living room for Mrs. Jung to finish the dinner, while my parents are discussing about their jobs with Mr. Jung. Wooyoung is on his phone sending messages to someone and from time to time I can see a little smile on his face. His younger brother is watching a show on TV and I'm thinking about how would be at my new school tomorrow. I hope someone will approach me first and I’ll make a new friend, because I’m very shy around people, especially strangers.

"Dinner’s ready! Please come and take a seat at the table." Mrs. Jung announces us happy.

At the table my mom sits to my left and Wooyoung is at my right.

Mrs. Jung prepared a feast for this dinner. The food looks and smells so good so we start to eat right away.

The dinner goes without any big events taking place, except Wooyoung's little brother making a fuss that he wants to eat while playing games on his phone, but his mother scolded him saying it’s not nice to play while eating, especially when guests are over.

After having the dessert, we head back in the living room to continue the chat.

"So, Wooyoung, how old are you?" My mom asks him.

Everyone turns their attention to Wooyoung, who didn't pay any attention to us the whole night and continued sending messages on his phone. He locks his phone and looks at my mother now.

"I'm 17 years old."

"Oh, you’re one year older than Y/N then. That's great, I hope you can become good friends then. You see, she's very shy and it’s hard for her to make friends." Wooyoung looks at me for a second and sees that I’m embarrassed because of what my mother said.

"What school do you go to, Y/N?" Mrs. Jung asks me.

"I go to The High-School of Arts."

"That's where Wooyoung goes too. Then you can go together tomorrow morning and he can show you around and help you." His mother's suggestion makes Wooyoung click his tongue in annoyance but doesn't say anything.

"That’s not necessary, but thank you. I can manage by myself, plus he may be busy and I don't want to bother him with this." I say hoping she will drop the subject.

"That's nonsense. He isn't busy and has enough time. Right, Wooyoung?"

"I will give you a ride tomorrow and help you out." He says without looking at me.

"See, I told you he'll help you."

"Thank you..." I say shyly in his direction but he doesn't acknowledge me.

After a little while, I announce that I’ll head back home to prepare my stuff for tomorrow.

"I will head home first to get ready for my first day at school tomorrow. Thank you for inviting us over for dinner, I had a great time."

"You want to leave already? Wait until I take my purse, I think I left it in the kitchen earlier."

"No, mom, you don't need to come. I will go back first, you can enjoy the rest of the night."

"Then let Wooyoung accompany you back." His dad suggests.

"It’s not necessary..."

While I was speaking Wooyoung got up from the couch.

"Let's go." He says and starts leaving already.

I quickly go after him while saying a "Good night." to his family at the same time.

He opens the door for me and I thank him.

The walk is only a few minutes but it’s awkward as neither of us talks.

He opens his mouth to say something only when we are in front of my house’s door.

"We’re leaving at 7:20 AM, so be ready by then."

"Ok. Thanks for coming with me and driving me tomorrow too, but you don't have to help me at school, I’ll manage by myself." I say smiling a bit while he has his cold gaze on me. He doesn't say anything, just turns around and leaves.

The next morning I wake up at 6:00 AM to make sure I have enough time to get ready so I won’t make Wooyoung wait after me.

I take a shower and then get dressed in my new uniform for school. The uniform consists of a white blouse, a grey skirt and a black jacket. I pun on some black shoes to go along with it and apply a natural makeup. I tie my hair in a ponytail and finish my look with a pair of earrings and a necklace to complete my look. I take a look at the clock too see it’s 7:15 AM.

When I get out of the house, Wooyoung is already waiting for me. He’s leaning against his black car looking down at his phone screen. He doesn't seem to notice my presence yet so I take a better look at him. He’s wearing his uniform, a white shirt with a black tie, black pants and a black jacket. His hair is parted in the middle, it’s a wet hair style that really suits him. He’s also wearing a lot of earrings and rings just like last night. When I move my attention to his face I observe he’s looking at me with a smirk on and a raised eyebrow. He caught me staring at him.

"Let's go if you’re done checking me out."

I widen my eyes at his words and I can feel the blood rushing to my face already, making me blush. I only nod in response.

He goes to passager’s side and opens the door for me. I get in saying a "thanks" and avoiding his gaze, still embarrassed.

When he gets in the car too, we put on our seat belts and he starts driving. Soft music is playing through the radio.

"We have to take three of my friends with us. They can be very loud so I'm sorry if they make you feel uncomfortable."

"It's ok." I say even if I'm already feeling a little anxious to meet new people.

We stop the car in front of a big house and I see three boys coming out. They are laughing loud enough to hear it from the car. When they spot me inside the car, a confused expression takes place on their faces. They get in the back seat and look at me then at Wooyoung, waiting probably for him to introduce me.

"She's my new neighbour, she’s going to our school too. Her name is Y/N. My mother asked me to drive her."

They all look at me smiling and say "Hi!" in unison.

"My name is San, pretty." The guy in the middle with black hair says and gives me a wink that makes me blush. He smiles at my blushing face and I can see a cute pair of dimples showing.

"Please ignore him, Y/N. That's how he is with everyone." The boy on San’s left says with an eye roll and San pouts at his statement. "My name is Yeosang." His hair is blonde and he has a mullet.

"My name is Jongho." The last one says with a polite smile.

"It’s nice too meet you all."

After that Wooyoung starts driving again so we won't be late. After a minute or so, San starts speaking again.

"Y/N are you in our class?"

"No, I'm a year younger than you guys."

"She's in Jongho’s class." Wooyoung says without moving his eyes from the road.

"Oh, I can help you with our classes then, and I will give you my notes so you know where we are currently with our lectures and catch up." Jongho tells me excited, probably because he found out we are the same age.

"That would be great, thank you so much." I smile back at him. I thought I will fell anxious with so many strangers but they are really friendly so I feel kinda comfortable with them.

Jongho is telling me about how are the teachers for the rest of the ride and some other school related things.

When we arrive at school, Wooyoung parks his car next to another black one, where four boys are standing beside it. When we get out, they came to greet the boys from our car. When they land their eyes on me, San starts talking first.

"She's Wooyoung’s new neighbour, Y/N. She's in the same class as Jongho."

"Hello. My name is Seonghwa." He's taller than the others boys I was in the car with, his hair is blonde and he has a kind smile. "I'm two years older than you, so is Hongjoong." He gestures to his right to a guy with blue hair. He has even more piercings than Wooyoung and is wearing a lot of other accessories.

"Nice meeting you." He says with a polite smile like Jongho did.

"I'm Yunho, it’s nice to meet you." He looks like a cute puppy with bright eyes. His hair is blonde with some pink strands too. He's the tallest among all of them.

"I'm Mingi." A boy with almost the same height as Yunho says. His hair is a light shade of brown and he’s wearing a pair of sunglasses. He has a cute smile.

"Yunho and Mingi are the same age as me." San adds.

"It’s nice meeting you all!" I say with a big smile. They all seem like nice people and unexpectedly I don’t feel anxious around them, considering we just met.

I didn't expect that I will meet so many people on my first day. Wooyoung seems to be a social butterfly, and all his friends are really good looking, just like him.

"Let's go to our classes or we’ll be late, and I'm sure Y/N doesn't want that on her first day." Hongjoong says gesturing for Jongho to lead the way for me.

We all part ways and leave to our classes.

"I will come with you guys." Wooyoung says taking the lead.

Me and Jongho follow him and after we’re in front of our class Jongho goes straight inside. When I try to enter too, Wooyoung stops me by grabbing my wrist.

"I will give you a ride back too after we finish classes. Just wait for me beside my car." He then leaves, not waiting for my response. I look after him a little then go inside the class where I take a seat next to Jongho.

All the classes are a bit boring, but Jongho is making small comments during them, funny ones, and also helps me catch up so I feel a little better about them.

It’s lunch time. Jongho and I are seated at a table in the middle. He said it’s their group’s table. When I sit down I see the people in the cafeteria looking with confusion in my direction.

"Jongho?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are they all looking at me?"

Jongho opens his mouth to answer but a voice behind me beats him first.

"Maybe because it’s the first time when another person besides us eight sits at our table." San says smiling at me and taking the free seat on my left.

"Oh... and why is that?"

"Well you see, we don't really have other friends beside each other." He chuckles a little and scratches the back of his neck.

"Why?" His answers only leaves me more confused. Yeosang replies to my question as he sees San is not helpful.

"Because they all think we are some kind of gang or something like that. But that’s not true. They’re all just rumors."

"Ok, but you had to do something for that rumor to go around." I say a little surprised to hear that, because they seem like good guys. I see them exchanging a strange look between themselves before Seonghwa answers me.

"Well, we actually got in some trouble one night at a club, it ended up with us fighting some other guys. We got in some trouble at school too, because we used to skip a lot of classes last year and had some little fights too. We were friends with some kids that graduated last year, and because of them we ended up doing all that. They kind of had a bad influence on us but now we are trying to study hard, avoid problems and we have a full attendance too. Unfortunately the rumors don't die that easily."

"Oh... Well you are doing great then, because I would have never thought you did all that if you wouldn't have confessed." I say a little lost in thoughts, trying to process all of this.

"Are you going to leave us too after what you heard?" San asks searching for an answer on my face.

"Why would I? You clearly changed and I'm sure you weren't that bad last year as you make it sound." I say with a little shy smile as all of them are looking at me. My guts tell me they’re good guys, even if I only met them today, because they didn't make me feel anxious being around them. I find it easy to talk with them, which is unusual for me to do with new people.

"If you still want to be friends with us don't expect other people to talk to you." Yeosang tells me.

"I'm good with being friends only with you guys. I never had a lot of friends anyway, so I won't lose anything." I say sincerely.

"By the way, where are Wooyoung and Mingi?” I see all of them tense a little at my question.

"They had something to do. Let's finish our lunch." Hongjoong says with a dark face, so I don't continue the subject anymore as I don't want to get in their business.

It’s already the time to go home and Seonghwa, Yunho, San, Yeosang and Jongho left with Seonghwa’s car. Hongjoong left one hour earlier. The boys told me he had some problems to solve. I'm beside Wooyoung’s car, waiting for him as he told me to do this morning.

As I wait for him to come I start thinking about how today was a pretty good first day. Thanks to Wooyoung I made a lot of friends. I never had such a large group of friends.

After a little while I hear Wooyoung and Mingi talking so I look in their direction. Mingi waves at me as a goodbye and leaves.

"Did you wait much?" Wooyoung ask as he unlocks his car and opens the door for me.

"Just a few minutes."

He nods his head and gets in the car too. The drive is quiet but I don't feel awkward in Wooyoung’s presence this time. When we are at a stop he turns to look at me.

"So, how was the first day?"

"Pretty good. The teachers were boring but I had fun thanks to your friends, so thank you for introducing us." I say shyly a little as he keeps his eyes on me.

"I'm glad you get along." He says and then turns his head and keeps driving.

The rest of the drive goes by in silence, none of us saying anything anymore.

"Thanks for driving me today, Wooyoung."

"I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 7:20 AM."

"You will drive me again? I don't want to be a burden."

"I will drive you everyday. It’s not a problem for me, plus we’re going to the same destination." He says without letting room for any arguments.

"Ok.. Thank you. Bye Wooyoung."

"Bye, Y/N."

The next two weeks Wooyoung drives me and his friends to school everyday. We got closer and it’s fun hanging out with them. I’m starting to like it a lot here.

This morning there’s only us on the way to school as he told me his friends are going with their own cars today and Jongho is going with San, because he doesn't have the age to drive yet.

Today the boys seem to be in a bad mood when I meet them at school and I don't know why. When I tried to ask Jongho, he said it’s nothing and to not worry about them.

I'm on my way to the classroom when I hear Wooyoung calling my name, so I stop and turn around to face him.

"I can't drive you back today. All of us will leave earlier since we have to go somewhere."

"Are you starting to skip your classes again like last year?" I ask in hope they don't pick up their bad habits from last year.

"No. We just have something to solve." He is a little frustrated by my question.

"What?"

"That's none of your business Y/N." He says narrowing his eyes at me and in a dark tone.

"O-oh... Sorry for asking." I turn around and leave fast. Now I can see why the others might be scared of them. Wooyoung looked pretty intimidating just now as he got mad. This is the first time I see him look so dark and I didn't like it.

I spend the rest of the day alone as they all left. When I hear the ring, I pack my things and get ready to go home.

Right before I try to leave, some girls gather at my desk and stop me from doing so.

"Do you need something?" I ask biting my lower lip as I'm becoming overwhelmed by their presence.

"How did you became friends with the boys?”

"I'm Wooyoung’s neighbour and he introduced us."

"So are you close with Wooyoung?"

I’m thinking what I should respond her when it hits me, she probably wants something from me.

"What do you want?"

"I want Wooyoung’s phone number." She says restively.

"Then ask him for it." I say quickly as I can feel by heart starting to beat faster than it should. I can feel my breath getting a little irregular too.

"He refused already, but I won't give up. So you have to give it to me." Her voice is irritated.

"I can't do that, if he didn't wanted to give it to you then he doesn't want to talk to you. Sorry but I need to leave now." I say and I start running past them to the bathroom. When I enter I take a deep breath and try to calm down. After that I leave to the bus station.

When I arrive home I feel a little tired so I take a nap before I start working on my homework.

The next day Wooyoung isn't waiting for me to go to school together. Maybe he’s mad at me..

When I arrive at school, Jongho is nowhere to be found, he didn’t attend any of the classes today.

I write a message in our group chat to see if something happened but nobody answers me... They still don't answer for the rest of the weekend and I start thinking if maybe something happened to them or I if I did something wrong so they’re ignoring me on purpose. They don't answer any of my calls either.

I ask my mother if she met Mrs. Jung and if she saw Wooyoung. She tells me that Wooyoung is staying at one of his friends for the weekend. Something is telling me that this might not be the whole truth. Something feels off and I have to find out what is it.

On monday, Wooyoung is waiting for me in the morning to give me the usual ride to school like he didn’t just ghosted me the whole weekend.

"What happened? None of you answered me and I was worried. Are you ok?" I ask concerned.

"We are fine. You didn't have to worry about us. We just had a full weekend, that's why we didn't answer. Now let's get going or we’ll be late."

"You could have at least tell me you’re alive..." I say pouting and looking at the ground.

I feel a hand ruffling my hair and I look up meeting Wooyoung eyes.

"I'm sorry. I will answer you next time. Don't be upset Y/N." He says smiling at me. It’s the first time I see such a big smile on him, and that made me smile too.

"I'm glad you’re smiling now. You’re more beautiful when you’re smiling rather than pouting." He says with a look that I don't really understand what it is.

I try to avoid his eyes and pass through him to enter the car trying to hide my blushing face and I think I hear him saying "It makes me want to make you happy." My heart skips a beat at that.

For the entire car ride to school none of us speaks. Unfortunately we were alone today as San drived Yeosang and Jongho.

At school all of them come and apologise for making me worry about them and we get back to our normal routine.

I go to my third class without Jongho, because it’s an optional class I choosed. After that is over, I go to meet with the boys for lunch. On the hallway I hear a voice calling my name, and when I turn to see who’s calling me, I see the girl that wanted Wooyoung’s phone number coming my way.

"I don't like it when people run away in the middle of a conversation." She says annoyed.

"Sorry... I needed to be somewhere."

"I don't care." She rolls her eyes at me. "Now give me the number while I'm asking nice."

"I still can't do that..."

"Then arrange me a meeting with him."

"Why don't you go and talk with him yourself? He's in the cafeteria now."

"Good plan. I will tell him you invited me for lunch with them. That will be my chance to ask him out."

"That’s not what I meant. I was just saying you can go and say whatever you want directly to him, not me."

"I like my plan better. Now let's go."

She grabs my arm and drags me in the direction of the cafeteria. She doesn't let go of me until we are at the table where the boys were chatting. When they spot us both, they look at me, ignoring the girl beside me, the one I don't even now the name of..

"Boys this is..." I trail off looking at her to say her name.

"I'm Yuri, but I'm sure you already knew that." She says smiling at Wooyoung. They still look at me, not Yuri, so I speak again.

"She's here to eat with us..." I say a little uncomfortable and the boys notice that.

"We don't have enough space for another person. You can leave." Yeosang answers irritated by her presence.

"But you still have an empty space." She says sitting down, next to Wooyoung.

Wooyoung looks for the first time at Yuri and speaks.

"That's Y/N’s chair. Now get up." I could sense the anger in his voice.

"Why would I? She can find another place to sit. I want to stay beside you." She flutters her lashes at him trying to look innocent.

All the boys are now looking with disgust at her.

"Leave already. Don't you get it that we don't want you here?" Mingi snaps at her.

"Hey! Let's all calm down. I will just take another chair." I say fast before they get angry, because I don't want to see that. But before I can manage to take another chair Wooyoung gets up and takes Yuri by her arm to make her stand up from her seat.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!" She says a little scared of him and the dark look he’s giving her. He doesn't listen to her and makes her get up and pushes her a little to the side away from the table. Then he takes my hand gently and makes me sit down instead.

"Let's eat now." He says like nothing happened and all the boys start eating. Wooyoung puts his tray with food between us and motions with his head for me to eat. I can hear Yuri scoffing from behind.

"Why would you want her instead of me? I don't understand. She's ugly and doesn't even talk much. She's dumb and..." But she doesn't get to speak more because Wooyoung rushes up and heads towards her. Seonghwa and San get up quickly too and try to stop Wooyoung from doing anything reckless. I also get up surprised.

"Say something bad about Y/N ever again and I will make your life a living hell." Wooyoung growls at her. I never heard that tone from him. His voice made me shiver.

"I suggest you to leave before you regret messing with one of us." San speaks this time and if looks could kill, Yuri would be six feet under.

"But-" Yuri tries again but she's cut off by Seonghwa this time.

"Leave or I will take you out personally and you won't like that." He says in a cold tone and I can see the fear growing on Yuri’s face. She gulps and leaves in a hurry.

I look around us and all the students are staring at us. I feel my heart rate going up quickly so I run out of the cafeteria. I can hear the boys calling after me with concern in their voices.

I run on the hallway but I don't make it far as I lose my balance and almost fall, but a pair of arms wrap around my waist catching me before I hit the ground. When I look up I see Wooyoung’s concerned gaze on me.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"I just need some air..." I say softly hiding my face in his chest as I don't want to see anyone right now.

He takes me out by the back door of the school. The rest of the boys come quickly too, having concerned looks on their faces. After a few minutes when I start to feel better, I decide to tell them what’s actually going on.

"I have anxiety... That's why I ran outside the cafeteria. It was too much for me..."

"You should have told us that earlier, Y/N." Seonghwa says.

"Yes, we would have tried to avoid that kind of situation if we knew." Wooyoung tells me a little disappointed.

"I'm sorry..." I murmur looking down.

"It's ok. We know now, so we will take care of you. You don't need to apologise for something like this, Y/N, you did nothing wrong." Hongjoong tells me softly.

"Thank you for helping me and for understanding." I say with a little smile on my face.

After our classes are done, I say my goodbyes to the boys and I head back home with Wooyoung.

The next few days the boys constantly made sure that I was feeling ok and took care of me. Wooyoung wouldn't leave me alone any second, so he would walk me to all of my classes, even though Jongho was already with me.

I’m really grateful for having such good friends. I’m truly happy for meeting them.

On friday night we all gather at Seonghwa’s place for a movie night, since his parents are leaving the town for the weekend.

I’m staying between Wooyoung and San on the couch, and we watch ‘Frozen 2’ at Mingi’s request. He said the first one was really good and needs to see the second part too, so we all agreed when he started whining.

I’m feeling a little tired, since last night I had trouble sleeping, so I start dozing off in the middle of the movie. My head falls on Wooyoung’s shoulder. He sees I’m asleep and tells the boys to keep quiet not to wake me up, then makes sure to cover me with a blanket and that I’m in a comfortable position.

I wake up feeling a little bit too warm, so I try to remove the blanket from me when I feel a hand is placed on my waist. I look behind me and I realise it’s Wooyoung’s hand. We are still on the couch at Seonghwa’s place. I try to remove his hand and get up without waking him too, but he only tightens his grip on me and comes closer. I could feel his soft breath on my neck as he nuzzled his nose in my hair.

I instantly start to blush and my heart starts beating like crazy.

I try to get up again but he wakes up this time, still not letting me go from his grip.

"What time is it?" He asks with his raspy morning voice, causing me to get shivers down my spine as he’s still breathing on my neck.

"I d-don't know..." I curse in my head at my stuttering. "We should get up, we’re still at Seonghwa’s place..."

"Five more minutes." He says getting even closer to me, not leaving any space between ourselves anymore.

I gulp and attempt to calm down my heart. I won't be surprised if he can feel it too considering how close we are to each other right now.

After a moment I hear a ‘click’ from a phone, announcing a picture being taken and I look up to see Seonghwa doing just that.

"Hey! Delete that!"

"Not a chance. You both look so adorable. I’ll send it in our group chat for the others to see it too."

"Noooo!! Seonghwa please!" I start whining at him.

"Too late, Y/N." He says laughing at my pouting face.

"You are mean." I say narrowing my eyes at him.

"Seonghwa don't upset her or I’ll kill you." Wooyoung says from behind me with a threatening voice.

"Easy tiger, I was just teasing her. I have to be careful around you now Y/N, or Wooyoung will attack me." Seonghwa smirks while saying this and then gives me a wink. Making me wonder what he means by that.

"Let's go Y/N. I will drive you home." Wooyoung gets up from the couch, helping me too.

It's been a week since the movie night, and since then Wooyoung began to act different around me. He was beside me all the time, excepting my classes and at home. Even then he would send me a lot of messages or call. He would always sit beside me and even suggested another family gathering for saturday. It was better than the first one we had when I just moved there.

It’s been already two months since I moved here, time flied fast. I’m feeling really good being here. Me and the boys became really close, and they didn't do anything strange anymore since that one time when they disappeared without any explanation for two days. They helped me be less shy than before. I also don't feel as anxious anymore since they’re always with me, making me feel relaxed and safe just with their presence.

It’s sunday morning, and Wooyoung just called me asking if I have any plans this afternoon. The answer was no, so he told me to be ready by three because now I have and he’ll come get me by then. He didn't say where we’ll be going but he mentioned that it’ll be just the two of us.

It's been a while already since I started to realise I might have feelings for Wooyoung, but I could never bring me to tell him that. We’re friends, so I tried to get over it to not ruin our friendship, but being around him all the time and getting all the attention he was giving me just made my feelings grow further.

It's already three. I'm wearing a cream blouse with a grey plaid skirt and I got some gray high boots to match. I‘m opting for a natural make up look, put on some accessories, I did my hair in waves and I got a matching purse to complete my look. I glance at myself in the mirror when I get a message from Wooyoung, announcing he's waiting for me outside.

When I leave the house, my eyes land on Wooyoung. My breath gets stuck in my throat, he’s breathtaking. His outfit is composed of a white shirt and white pants, that he paired with some sneakers. This is totally the opposite of his usual black outfits. He made his hair into a ponytail, wears a white bandana and got some accessories to finalise his look. This style suits him a lot. When I look at his face, his mouth is slightly open, but he closes it when he realises I catched him staring too.

"You look gorgeous." He said with a big smile that made my heart skip a beat.

"You look very handsome too." I say avoiding his gaze.

"Let's go. I want to show you a place." He says excited while opening the car door for me.

After an hour of driving, we finally reach our destination. We stop in front of a huge park. Inside it, cherry blossom trees are welcoming us on each side of the main path, and further into the park there’s a lake surrounded by benches. The wind makes it rain with cherry blossom flowers and the whole place starts to feel magical. I’m overflowing with joy seeing the beautiful scenery around us.

"Thank you for showing me this beautiful place." I tell Wooyoung and hug him out of excitement.

He wraps his hands around my waist too, hugging me back, then says: "Let's go seat on a bench. I have something to tell you." with a nervous tone.

After we take a seat on one of the benches, he turns his face and locks his beautiful eyes with mine, taking my hands into his. My heart pounds faster at the small gesture.

"Y/N, I don't know how to tell you this, or when the perfect moment to do it would come, but I think waiting for the perfect moment won't take me anywhere, so I decided to make one by inviting you here. I didn't really mention it, but this is actually a date."

"Really? A date?" I ask surprised by his words.

"Yes. Now the important thing I wanted to tell you." He takes a deep breath to calm his nervousness. "I like you, Y/N."

I look at him surprised, thinking I might have heard him wrong.

"Are you being serious right now?" I can see him getting sad after my question.

"Yes... Well, if you don't feel the same it’s fine, but I’d like us to continue being friends, if that’s not too uncomfortable for you and- " I cut him off.

"I like you too, but I couldn't believe what you just said, that's why I wanted to make sure I didn’t misunderstood you." I say with the biggest smile on my face.

He looks at my face like he’s trying to capture this moment in his memory.

Then he comes closer, coups my face with his hands and kisses me. I’m taken by surprise by his sudden move but I soon start kissing him back, and I could feel his lips turning into a smile against my mouth. His lips are soft and move gently against mine. I put my hands on his chest while we deepen the kiss. When we break apart, we rest our foreheads together.

Wooyoung takes my hand and intertwines our fingers, bringing me to stand up.

"Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"Ok. Let's go eat something."

Wooyoung took me at a restaurant where we eated some pasta and cheesecake for dessert.

"Wow, the food was amazing. Thanks for the dinner."

"I'm glad you liked it. This is my favourite restaurant, so we’ll probably come here often on our next dates."

"Next time I want to try their tiramisu."

"Already planning what to eat next, sweetheart?" Wooyoung says laughing a little at me and my love for food. I hear him saying an "adorable" under his breath and I blush.

He drives me home and walks me in front of my door.

"I had a great time. Thanks for today, Wooyoung."

"I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Goodnight, princess." He says then kisses my forehead and turns to leave.

"G-Goodnight..." His pet name made my heart flutter. I head inside fast to hide my pink turning face. If he keeps being like this my life span will get shorter.

The next morning Wooyoung greets me with a kiss on the cheek and a big smile.

After we arrive at school, all the boys are already there, waiting for us. When I get out of the car, San comes and hugs me.

"Congratulations!"

"For what?" I ask confused.

"For your new relationship, of course!" Yunho says on his way to hug me too.

"You already told them?" I turn and ask Wooyoung.

"We knew he likes you, and also his plan on inviting you out and confess. And we kinda guessed you might like him too after we saw how you act around him." Yeosang explains, giving us a teasing grin.

"We need to celebrate!" Shouts Mingi.

"After school. Congratulations, you both deserve to be happy." Seonghwa says while smiling with affection.

We all leave to our classes and after school we go to celebrate, as Mingi suggested.

We came to a pastry to have some cake, and of course a lot of teasing from the boys, to Wooyoung for being a coward with his confession and for me because I was being so obvious about liking him. Although I think I did a good job since Wooyoung didn't knew about it. Unfortunately I have to cut this happy moment, because I need to ask them something.

"Guys... Remember when you left without any signs of being alive that weekend?" I can see them sharing a look.

"Yes... Why?" Hongjoong responds.

"What did you do? Why did you avoid answering my question back then? I need to know the truth. I don't like to be lied. After so much time together you can trust me, I hope you know that..."

"It’s not about trust. We do trust you, Y/N." San says softly.

"Then?"

"It’s just... If we tell you, maybe you’ll look at us in a different way..." Wooyoung says a little sad.

"Whatever it is, I don't think that would change how I see you." I try to reassure them.

"You know that we said people think we are a gang?" Hongjoong asks me sighing.

"Yes, I remember."

"Well we kinda were one, because we used to ..” he takes another breath before finishing his sentence “..sell drugs… That’s what we did that weekend too. We went to sell the last drugs we had left, so we’d finally be done with this whole thing. We wanted to change, so we stopped after that day. It was the last time Y/N, we promise, and we didn't want you to find out because we are ashamed about it.." After Hongjoong is done talking, all of them let their heads down, being unable to look at me.

“Did you consume too?”

“No, we didn’t.” San answers firmly.

I get up from the chair, all eight heads now turning to look at me.

“I need some time to process all of this. I will leave first.”

Wooyoung gets up too and reaches for my wrist, grabbing it.

“Can I drive you?”

“I would like to be alone right now... And some fresh air will help me think better.” I say as I remove his hand and leave.

On my way home I’m lost in my thoughts, thinking about what they said again and again. I can’t believe they sold drugs... Even if they stopped, they still did something wrong... I just got together with Wooyoung and I find this about him.

The next two days I told Wooyoung I will take the bus to school, and I avoided them. I feel guilty avoiding them, because everytime I met them in the hallways, they would look at me with pain in their eyes…

On the third day, Wooyoung is waiting for me outside my class room. It was time to go home, so I tried to avoid him and leave but he called my name, so I stopped on my tracks and turned to face him.

“Y/N... I know I messed up and I’m really sorry. Please stop ignoring us... I know what we did was wrong and illegal, but we stopped now. I swear we won’t go near any drugs ever again... Just please forgive us...” He says with a pleading face and my heart breaks at the sight.

“I’m glad you understand that what you did was wrong... but I don’t know what to do right now... Woo, let me have some space for a few more days, ok?”

“Take as much time as you need. I won’t put pressure on you. I just wanted you to know you mean a lot to us, to me.. and we miss you already.”

“Thank you for understanding, Wooyoung. I’ll leave now, bye.”

“Bye...” He says in a small sad voice.

On Saturday I write them a message in our group chat, saying that I want to meet up.

We’re all gathered in a park. The boys look at me with what I can only describe as hope.

“What you did was wrong.” I start off. “Still, you seem to understand that and you’re trying to make things right now. I appreciated this and I want to be by your side in this process and help you.”

“Does this mean you forgive us and still want to be our friend?” San asks excited.

“Yes, San.” When the boys hear my answer, they quickly envelope me in a big group hug.

“Thanks for coming back to us, Y/N.” Wooyoung says, giving me another hug, and I hug him back tightly as I’ve missed him.

After a month, everyone at school found out about my relationship with Wooyoung. We also told our parents, and they were extremely happy for us.

We’re really happy together, he’s so good to me. He’s caring, understanding, and helps me a lot when I have any problems. Thanks to him I’m also getting more open and comfortable around people I don’t know. He brings out the best in me and I’m grateful for this.

We’re on a date at the Amusement Park. We’ve been on almost all the carousels, the only ones left are the big ones, as I'm scared of heights.

Wooyoung won me a cute puppy plushie at one of the games. We also ate a lot of food, especially coton candy; everything went great today.

"Hey, I want to ride one last thing before we go."

"Which one?" I ask as I look in the direction that he's looking too, only to see The Big Whell. My eyes are widening at the sight of it.

"No! No! You said you’re fine if we’re not going on the big rides." I say shaking my head, not wanting to even get close to that thing.

"I am, but I want to enjoy the view from up there with you, baby. Please, I promise nothing will happen to you. Don't you trust me?"

I sigh in defeat seeing his puppy eyes. He knows I can’t refuse him if he does this and he smirks at me, proud he won me over so easily. He then starts dragging me excited to the queue of people.

We wait in line for about 30 minutes until our turn to get in one of the boxes comes. We sit down and I grip Wooyoung’s hand as we start moving up. I hide my face in his chest and he laughs a litter. I could feel his vibration through me.

"It’s not funny..."

“Baby, please look at me.” He says softly, but I don’t look up, so he frees his hand out of my grip and coups my face with both of them, bringing me face him.

“We are already up, please look at the view, I promise you will regret if you don’t, it’s really worth it. I want to look at it together with you.” He says pleading me with his eyes and I nod my head in response. His face breaks into a beautiful smile at this.

I look out the window and my mouth opens a little at the sight that hits me. He was right. It’s so beautiful. It’s already dark outside so the city is illuminated. Everything looks so small from here.

I turn to face Wooyoung and he looks at me too.

“I love you, Y/N.” He just tells me this for the first time.

“I love you too, Wooyoung.” I say and he kisses me gently. He tries to pour all his love for me in the kiss and I respond back with the same amount of affection.

masterlist

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vindicatedvirgil · 4 years

Text

art is (not) dead / analogical

inspired by an idea brainstormed in a discord server i’m in.

art critic logan!!!!! give him art rights! immediately!!!!

[masterlist]

---

Logan adjusted his glasses, eyes focused on the abstract painting in front of him. When it came to artwork in that style, he either appreciated it or it confused him, and this piece fell into the latter category. It was a white canvas with cloud-like shapes in various shades of purple, gray, and black. Logan wanted to understand what the artist was trying to convey, but he only felt perplexed. As he stepped up to read the information about the piece, a man stood to his left.

“Priced a bit high,” Logan muttered, gripping his pen a little tighter. He scribbled down the title, price, and artist of the piece, then straightened back up. He spun on his heel, and the man who was standing there was looking at him, frowning. Logan observed the badge on his black coat, denoting him as an artist. The name… “Oh, this is your piece,” Logan said, recalling the name he had just written down.

“Is there something wrong with my art…” the man, named Virgil Storm, narrowed his eyes onto Logan’s badge, explaining that he was the critic at the show, “...Mr. Crofters?” Logan sighed, glancing back to the large art piece.

“I do not understand why you have titled it ‘anxiety’,” Logan explained, “and the colors don’t… bring any certain emotion.” Virgil rolled his eyes, inhaling sharply. He was used to this by now, critics claiming they knew what art needed to be, but he was sick of it. The art represented how he felt, no matter how abstract it was.

“Look, you don’t need to understand art for it to be worth something,” Virgil explained, gesturing to all of the art surrounding them. “It means something to the artist. But you wouldn’t understand that, you just like critiquing and judging the things that people put countless hours into, hmm?” Logan frowned at this, and felt a pang of unease. “Yes, Mr. Crofters. I’ve heard of you and your… critiquing. You caused Roman Prince, one of the greatest artists in the area, to have a mental breakdown because you didn’t ‘understand’ the piece that he dedicated to his brother.”

“Look, Storm. This is what I studied. I know art-”

“You know what you like, and I don’t care if you think my art is overpriced. You couldn’t create something with half as much heart or emotion, I’m sure,” Virgil started to step away, but Logan stepped in front of him, eyes dark.

“I can paint,” Logan informed him. He thought he was no good, though, which is why he became a critic. He hadn’t painted in years.

“Oh? Prove it, then,” Virgil fished a business card out of his pocket. “The address for my studio is there. Come by tomorrow and prove to me that you can do art.”

Logan stared at the brick building, the wide windows startling him. He considered turning back, going home, because why did he need to prove himself to a cocky artist like Virgil Storm? Except he didn’t turn back, he gripped the paints that he had dug out of his closet a little tighter in his hand and stepped to the door, knocking only once. If Virgil didn’t hear him, then he could say it wasn’t his fault-

Of course, Logan was not that lucky. The door swung open, revealing Virgil with a stained button-up lavender shirt, paint-splattered black pants, his long hair pulled into a bun. “Ah, the critic,” Virgil smirked, stepping aside to let Logan inside. “Didn’t think you’d have the guts to show after my painting sold for higher than the listed price.”

Logan glanced around at the bottom floor of the lofted building; it was covered with full, half-full, and blank canvases and plants, and he could see that on the second level there was a full bedroom. There were two easels set up, one with what Logan assumed was Virgil’s current work in progress, the other with a blank canvas. He glanced down at his own clothes; his polo shirt and tie and slacks, and wondered if he should have worn something that he didn’t mind getting paint on.

“Need an apron?” Virgil asked, strolling over to the easels. He pulled an apron from behind one of them, paint splatters and charcoal stains coating most of the fabric. “You can use this one,” he tossed it at Logan, who nearly dropped his paints in the process. Virgil lifted a paintbrush from his easel, and Logan noted the bright colors he was using with the current piece; yellows, pinks, and teals in a pattern that almost resembled a sunset.

“Thanks,” Logan set his paints down on the bottom of the easel and slipped the apron over his head, then got out his brush. He glanced over at Virgil, who seemed to be deep in thought, lips pursed as he splattered some orange onto the canvas. Logan began with black paint, outlining a figure, and the two painted in silence for a while, until Virgil set his paintbrush down and stretched his arms up, his shirt riding up to reveal a pierced belly button. Logan blinked, then returned his focus to the silhouette he was painting.

“Want anything to drink? I’ve got about twenty types of tea, but there’s also wine…” He ran a hand through his hair to fix it back up into a bun, not realizing that there was yellow paint on his fingers, and Logan bit back a grin when the paint streaked Virgil’s dark hair.

“Um, tea’s fine. Whatever kind you’re having,” Logan responded. He had loosened his tie earlier and his glasses were situated on the top of his head, and he felt more relaxed than he had in years; painting was something he enjoyed so much, but with his work schedule and the discouragement he faced from those around him… he had stepped away from the thing that he was so passionate about.

Logan refocused on his painting; it was a silhouette of a man standing outside, and he had decided that he would paint the night sky around the frame of the man’s likeness. After a few minutes, he felt Virgil standing next to him, and noted that the artist had placed a mug of tea on the table between the easels.

“Wow,” Virgil breathed out, his eyes focused on the painting. “Your silhouette work is incredible,” he murmured, and Logan glanced at him, wondering if he was being mocked, but the expression on Virgil’s face only showed admiration.

“Oh. Um. Thank you,” Logan grabbed the mug of tea, holding it up to his lips to distract from the blush that had coated his cheeks. The aroma of roses and jasmine wafted into his nose, and he felt a bit calmer. No one had ever complimented his art; he didn’t know how to react to Virgil’s kind words.

Luckily, he didn’t need to say anything more, as Virgil stepped away and back to his easel.

By the time they had both finished their paintings, the sun had gone down and Virgil had flipped on the lights of the loft, revealing several sets of fairy lights in the windows. It was almost… magical, Logan thought, and as he pulled the apron back over his head, hanging it off of the easel, he wondered if he’d be allowed to come back and paint another time.

Virgil stood beside him, hand on his chin, looking at Logan’s painting closely. Perhaps unconsciously, Logan had given the silhouetted man a bun and a paintbrush, and he wondered if Virgil would notice.

“Well, it looks like I owe you an apology, Mr. Art Critic,” Virgil finally said, turning to glance at Logan. “You can paint, and you’re good. You should enter in the next show.”

“It’s really not… that good,” Logan muttered, closing the case with his paints. “It’s been a long time since I painted. I don’t think I’ve touched a paintbrush since college.”

“Why is that?” Virgil asked, eyes focused on the way that Logan’s face was turning a pale pink.

“I was… discouraged often. My parents didn’t think that painting was a worthwhile endeavor, but I didn’t want to step away from the world of art,” Logan’s eyes followed Virgil, who sat down on a plastic-covered couch, then beckoned the critic over. He sat down next to him, and Virgil pulled his legs under him, his elbow on the edge of the couch and his chin in the palm of his hand.

“You realize that’s what you’ve become, don’t you?” Virgil asked incredulously. Logan raised his eyebrows, frowning. “Roman hasn’t painted in weeks. If I wasn’t familiar with my own self-doubt, your words could have stopped me, too. Art isn’t meant to be judged, it’s meant to be appreciated and encouraged, and you should be aware of that, if that’s what you went through.”

“I… I’m sorry.” Logan didn’t say anything else, he wanted to run and never come back, but he felt like he could trust being around Virgil. “Do you… have Roman’s phone number? I would like to apologize to him.” Virgil nodded, but made no other movements, except to flutter his eyes shut. “I should go.”

“Do you want to take your painting with you?” Virgil asked, glancing over at the easels. Logan glanced, too, and shook his head.

“No. You can keep it,” he wanted to ask Virgil if he could come back the following day to paint some more, but he didn’t want to impose. Or be annoying. Logan often found that people didn’t want to spend time with him, so he began to favor being alone. “It was nice to paint again, if only for a bit.”

“You’re not going to get back into it?” Virgil’s hand was on his forearm, and Logan sucked in a deep breath, then shook his head.

“I have no reason to,” he explained, wanting to pull his arm away. Virgil grimaced at this.

“Yes you do. You love it. You’re good at it. Don’t give up on it again,” Virgil’s voice was nearly pleading, and Logan looked away from the man, because the emotions were too strong, and he couldn’t bear to feel them. He didn’t want to feel anything. “Logan.”

“I can’t. I don’t have an easel or canvases or…” Logan trailed off, and Virgil squeezed his arm gently. “I can’t get back into it. It’s not… serious enough. I want to be taken seriously. I need to be.”

“Why?” Virgil’s voice was calling him back, his long fingers warm against Logan’s skin, and the critic resisted the urge to run again. “Why do you need to be taken seriously? Because of your parents? Logan, your skills speak for themselves. You can be taken seriously as an artist.”

“Does your family take you seriously?” Logan asked, and Virgil’s eyes opened. He chewed on his lower lip, then sighed before responding.

“I haven’t spoken to my family since I was seventeen. There was a lot more than just my art that they didn’t accept me for,” Virgil’s voice was low, and Logan just nodded, understanding. “You can come back to paint whenever you want, Logan.”

And so he did. The following morning, he showed up at Virgil’s loft, bagels and coffee in hand. Instead of his normal professional attire, he was wearing an old pair of jeans and a NASA t-shirt that had bleach stains. The door was open when he approached it, so he peeked in to see Virgil already at his easel, a new painting in the works, dressed in the same outfit as the day before.

“Um, good morning, Virgil,” Logan said, announcing his presence. “I brought some bagels and coffee,” he said, stepping over to set the food and drinks on the kitchen counters.

“Thank goodness, I’m going to need caffeine. I didn’t finish the painting from yesterday until three in the morning,” Virgil groaned, stepping away from the easel temporarily to grab the coffee Logan had brought for him. “You’re my hero.” Logan turned bright red at this, looking down at his feet. “Oh. I talked to Roman. He actually started painting again. Let me get my phone to show you the picture,” Virgil stepped away, and Logan had to hold back again. Standing close to the other man was intoxicating, but he craved it. Even though he had only known the painter for two days, he was entranced, and had never felt the need to gravitate around another person in that way.

When Virgil stepped back over to him, phone showing a picture of a painting of a throne. Logan smiled faintly at it, remembering Roman’s penchant for theatricality and royalty. And then Logan realized just how close he was standing to Virgil. The artist seemed to notice, as well, because he stepped away, clearing his throat. Without saying anything, the two went to their easels, and painted in silence for some time.

Virgil had given his canvas a thorough once-over with black paint, and allowed it to dry before starting to add colors on top of it; dark blues and purples were swirled on. Logan found himself pause what he was doing to watch the way that Virgil arched his wrist in a precise way to allow for different points of pressure from the brush. He wondered if Virgil had studied art, and glanced around the room to see if he could locate any degrees. None were visible, though, and he didn’t want to ask and break the comfortable silence they had entered.

They painted in that space of tranquility for a few hours, until Logan heard his stomach grumble. Virgil chuckled a bit at this, setting his brush down and stepping back from his own easel. “I’ll order us some lunch, is Chinese takeout alright?”

“Sounds delicious. Kung Pao Chicken, please,” Logan responded, setting his brush down to look at his painting as a whole. It was a silhouette again, but this time there were two figures, and it looked like they were dancing. He hadn’t done the background yet, but he wanted to do something similar to the galaxy he had painted the day before. He heard Virgil finish making the order for takeout, and then felt his presence next to him.

“Are they dancing?” Virgil asked, letting his hair out of its bun. Logan ignored the way that his dark hair framed his pale face, and instead just nodded. “You must be familiar with dancing, I can almost see the movement in them.”

“I’m not much of a dancer, but my cousin Patton is,” he explained, remembering the times when, as teenagers, he and Patton would learn different styles of dance, even ballroom dancing. A smile crossed his features, and he barely noticed that music started playing from a speaker. Then he felt arms on his, pulling him into Virgil’s arms so they could move to the music. “Virgil, I-”

“Shh, just dance with me,” Virgil’s voice was calm, and Logan leaned into the touch, his head resting on the other man’s shoulder, Virgil’s hands settling on his waist. They moved around the empty space of the room until the doorbell rang, and Logan felt as if he had been pulled out of a dream. The two ate their takeout in silence, though the quiet was not as pleasant as it had been prior; there was now this tension spread out in front of them, and neither of them knew what to do with that.

By the time they had both finished eating and returned to their easels, Logan knew that he was visibly rigid, but his hands shook with every movement. He could barely press his paintbrush against the canvas without needing to pull away for fear of making one wrong move. Of course, it was the fact that he was afraid of all of his past wrong moves and the fear that if he made a false choice now, the progress he had made and the confidence he had built up with his painting again would fade away.

Virgil could practically feel the unease dripping from Logan’s body, so he left his painting to dry (at this point, all he wanted to do was add some white borders to the swirls), and stepped over to Logan, taking the brush from his hand. “You want to talk about it?” Logan wouldn’t meet his eyes, but nodded, and the two moved to sit on the couch, Virgil leaning close into the cushions, watching Logan with those dark eyes of his.

“I want to learn how to be okay with the things that I tried to push back,” he finally said, and Virgil knew it wasn’t just the painting he was talking about. “But… I don’t know where to start.”

“You already have started, Logan. You’re painting again, and you need to keep painting, no matter how hard it is or how conflicted you feel,” Virgil’s voice was soft as he scooted a little closer to the critic, and his fingers pulled Logan’s face to look at him. “As for the other things… take your time. Be open. It’s… hard. But… I think that everyone deserves a second chance, and I’m happy to help you on your journey.”

Logan stepped into the building and walked up to the table with badges, scanning the rows until he found the one he was looking for: Logan Crofters, Artist, Dancing Under the Stars. A faint smile crossed his face as he pinned it to his jacket, and then he wandered to where he knew the canvas was hung.

On his way there, he passed Roman, whose throne painting was hung proudly as the center of the show, and they shook hands, exchanged friendly greetings, and made promises to see each other at the after party. Then Logan went to stand by his painting, the lights from up above illuminating the silhouettes in a way that no natural light could.

Logan felt a presence to his left, and glanced over to see Virgil beaming brightly. His sunset painting was on display a few exhibits over. Their hands linked together, Virgil’s thumb brushing comfortably over the back of Logan’s hand, and Logan leaned up to press a kiss to Virgil’s cheek.

“I put in my notices,” he informed Virgil, who nodded, still smiling. “No more critiquing. No more boring apartment.” He hadn’t been spending much time in his apartment over the past several months, anyways. Each morning he’d find himself waking up in Virgil’s warm embrace, the fairy lights of the loft illuminating their way, and each afternoon they’d paint side by side like they had at the start, except now when they needed a break, they’d fall into each other’s arms, cascading across the room, lips brushing together like paintbrushes on a canvas.

#amanda writes sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfiction #analogical #ts analogical #romantic analogical #ts virgil #virgil sanders #ts logan #logan sanders #ts sanders sides #sanders sides #art critic logan #painter virgil

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maries-gallery · 3 years

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Match up for @leonardhoee

Match ups are closed

@leonardhoee

Wow, so first you literally seem so cool ?? And I actually relate to a lot of things you said (crazy how you doing match ups makes you discover new things about yourself too...) Anyways !

I match you with Leonardo !

SFW :

- Okay, the two of you would click together so well. He knows how to read people and wouldn't be taken off by your intimidating aura at all. He actually sees it for what it is, a first impression. This would make him curious about you though and he'd certainly approach you right the day after your arrival. And he is really pleased with what he discovers ! You are actually very easy going and agreeable to talk to ! He is actually very amused by your cocky exterior (especially if you are to interact with Theo) but once again Leonardo is smart and mature enough to know that arrogance is only another name for insecurity. Overall he just really likes your company and the more time you spend together, the more he learns about you, the more he finds himself carried away by your energy. He is a bit taken aback by your punches though, not that it irritates him or anything but he just isn’t used to it, he’d laugh though. You are so small and he is so tall and it is laughable how he becomes a big teddy bear in your presence.

- At first the two of you would probably be very good friends and nothing more. The both of you are just very passionate and both knowledge seekers and huge curious bugs. He loves to talk with you and spend hours rambling about anything he learned or hearing you talk about any theories you may have; all with the flicker of passion in your eyes. Luckily for you, he is also well informed on most things and very eager to answer any of your questions. This dynamic thus leads the two of you to share very long conversations in the library, often stretching out throughout the night and until dawn (Sebastian would often find the two of you napping in the library during the day as a result). You just have so much fun together and you marvel at how easy it is to be yourself around him, he just makes you comfortable beyond belief. He never judges you about your rambles, or your weird research and theory or anything truly. And gosh is this a breath of fresh air ! On the other hand he loves to have someone he can talk and have fun with, someone at his side who matches his energy to a T.

- But as your relationship evolves and as time passes he gets to see new sides of you which only spurs his blossoming feelings on. You start to open up and so does he. Leonardo is in love. He loves how supportive and caring you are when it comes to your friends and to him, he is often the one taking care of others and it is honestly cute and heartwarming how you, a human, take it upon yourself to care for him, a pure blood. Then there is your smile... How he loves it, honestly he’d take any chance he got to put a smile on those lips. It’s just so bright and light, so expressive and yet so natural for you. He also finds your temper quite cute, of course he takes your irritation seriously, don’t get him wrong, but he just loves to know that you are able to stand up for yourself ! And honestly, your banters with Theo are just hilarious. Then he always thought you were beautiful but when you tell him about your modelling experience he is just whipped and so very admirative ! He doesn’t know what modelling is but he understands it as you being a muse of art of some sort (which is kinda the case), so you might have to explain to him what it is. But regardless, this doesn’t change how he feels, you are amazing. But then again modelling isn’t the only thing you do, no you are kind of a whirlwind when it comes to your hobbies and that is amazing ! From martial arts (which reassures him in a sense, you have some ways of defending yourself and he couldn’t be more glad) to drawing, reading and singing... He’d ask you about all of your hobbies and experiences. He just wants to know everything.

- Once you get in a relationship nothing really changes between the two of you, you are still the best of partners and friends, you still laugh together and ramble on and on about whichever topics you find interesting. What does make a difference is how you are both more affectionate towards one another though. Leonardo loves to cuddle with you and nap around with you in his arms, it is just the best way for him to unwind. He is also very flirty and loves to fluster you as he knows your flirting abilities aren’t the best (he finds the blush on your cheeks so adorable, he could flirt with you all day).

- Dates ? Probably shopping trips around town or explorations of new places. He also loves it when the two of you just sit down in the library and talk for hours or read silently. He also loves when you sing to him and would accompany you with a violin or the piano. Then he’d probably ask for you to model for him as he sketches you in one of his many notebooks. But honestly, the two of you could do anything together and he’d be all for it.

- But then the two of you are also more open and more vulnerable around one another, you tell him about your past, about your social anxiety (which he had picked on) and your tendency to overthink. Now, Leonardo makes sure that you know that you can talk to him, he wants you to come to him if you one day doubt his love for you. But honestly with the way he looks at you, completely love drunk and how many words of affection he throws your way there won’t be a lot of days you’ll find yourself doubting. And if it is about something else you are overthinking, he is ready to listen and sort things out with you, to help you through it and care for you. He also wants you to know that these sides of you and your emotions are not a burden. He noticed how you tend to hide your emotions or swallow them and bury them, but he’ll have none of that. You have the right to be emotional and to lean on someone every once in a while, this does not make you weak but human. Honestly he’ll never see you as any less of a strong woman because of some tears trailing down your cheeks. So yeah, expect him to be your very own emotional coach. When it comes to your social anxiety he is also very protective of you in public, and ready to whisk you away from crowds or events if at some point it is too much for you.

- Really your relationship is just wholesome. You’re both very supportive of each other and fiercely protective of one another, Leonardo is always there to reassure you and communication is very fluid between the two of you. You made it a point to be honest to one another and speak up in case of an issue between the two of you and problems are dealt with efficiently and maturely... It is just very safe and very comfortable for the both of you, and you won’t have it any other way. You balance each other perfectly too, him being very laid back and relaxed and you being more anxious and on point. You help each other out and bring out the best in one another.

Song :

Ophelia, The Lumineers

Scenario :

The shuffling of fabric came from the dressing room, golden eyes flickering under the lights of the shop as a certain brown haired man observed the dresses around him, foot tapping at a steady rhythm in the wooden floor. He leaned back in the plush armchair, a smile curving his lips as the curtains finally drew back to reveal your form.

The two of you had been strolling down the streets, enjoying the warm sun on your skin and the cool wind caressing your cheeks when you spotted a shop down the main street. Leonardo could still remember the excitement bubbling in your eyes and the huge smile adorning your lips as you took his hand and walked to the small boutique. The two of you had spent a few minutes outside, looking at the vitrine and the shop itself. From what you could see they had a very wide range of dresses and outfits, all coming in different styles and different shapes and colours. A real candy store for the eye.

“Can we stop there ?” You had queried, eyes looking back at him, bright as the sun above you. And of course you could, he couldn’t refuse you anything, not when you looked at him like this, not ever. Plus, he really loved shopping with you and seeing you try on new outfits.

Fashion had never been his priority, comfortable and effortless looks suit him to a T after all. But when you had told him about your job back in the 21th century and your love for fashion he slowly started to look into it and found himself liking it ! Of course he didn’t have your knowledge on the matter but he enjoyed every time the two of you would enter a shop, trying on things and making your very own runways in the middle of racks and dressing rooms. This was just like you.

You walked out of the dressing room, sporting a long black dress, elaborate and breathtaking. But whether it was the dress in itself or simply your own charm, Leonardo could not tell. You looked good in everything.

You approached him, eyes holding his as you walked confidently.

“So, what do you think ?” You questioned, a side grin curving your lips. To be honest you really liked this dress.

“What can I say, Cara Mia ? It looks gorgeous on you.” He said, standing up from the armchair and walking up to one of the racks before retrieving one of the outfits hung there.

“Though you also looked ravishing in this suit.” He grinned holding up a black suit you had tried on beforehand.

And he was right, it suited you very well too and was very comfortable as well. But women in suits didn’t exactly crowd the streets in 19th century Paris...

“I agree.” You replied, a hand to your chin as you observed the fabric, it felt nice to the touch, silky and light. “Though this would earn me some glares.” You said with a chuckle.

And that’s when you saw it, his trademark smirk and the mischievous glint in his eyes. “Cara Mia would certainly shock the whole of Paris with that.” He admitted, “Though eyes are on you wherever you go already.”

He slowly approached you, arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you against him gently, eyes holding yours captive and your breath hitching in your throat. You could see the admiration he held for you behind those golden irises, the adoration and love flowing through his veins, all for you.

His lips pressed down on your forehead in a light and reverent kiss, the touch like velvet gliding over your skin. He pulled away and offered you a loving smile, your heart swelling in your chest.

“Shall we buy both ?”

NSFW :

- Leonardo is definitely dominant in bed, though he wouldn’t mind if you wanted to take the reins one day (he’d actually find it quite sexy and exciting), but yes generally speaking he is on top. He just loves having control over your body and your pleasure, loves hearing you whimper and see you writhe on the sheets as he brings his fingers here or there, his touch lighting your skin ablaze and setting off raw passion in your bloodstreams. But even so, Leonardo is playful and he loves teasing you so his favourite position has to be cowgirl. He gets to hold onto your hips, his favourite part of you, and to enjoy the view of you pleasuring yourself on him. But don’t be mistaken, he is the one in control here. He is the one to control the circles you draw with these ravishing hips of yours, the one to control your pace and movements, the one to thrust up into you, the moans you let out and the pleads for him to go faster like melody to his ears. A close second would be missionary though, he gets to see your flushed face, kiss and suck on your neck and jaw as you reach your peak.

- Pace wise sex with Leonardo is always passionate and intense, the man being both himself. And most of the time he starts out with slow languid thrusts and movements, to get you warmed up but also to tease you and have you begging for more. Then he is rough, filling you up perfectly and hitting all the right places, hands gripping your hips in a tight hold to keep you steady and in place as he pleases the both of you. Same when he goes down on you (gosh, is he good at it too), his tongue would flicker over your clit and lap at your entrance with so much fervour you actually lose your mind. He is just very skilled and sex with him never leaves you unsatisfied.

- When it comes to kinks, Leonardo is very adventurous and... kinky. So he is willing to try anything with you as long as you talk about it first and both agree on the idea. But his top favourites are overstimulation and bondage. Leonardo loves to take care of you and to pleasure you... But he also loves to ravish you and you bet one orgasm from you isn’t enough for him, he’d pull them out of you like music from a finely tuned violin, eyes drinking in the way your skin flush and your eyes scrunch close as another wave of pleasure crashes onto you, how you lose your mind over the number of times you’ve fallen over the edge. As for bondage, he loves to tie you up and simply tease you to no end, hearing your moans and pleads and seeing your body writhe under his gets him so very hard. Then he also has a non negligible daddy kink and loves to take care of his princess, or punish her, in function of how you behaved. Finally he is one for nice lingerie, a black or red set gets him on his knees for you, ready to pleasure you and give you all of him. You just look so beautiful the breath is knocked out of his lungs.

- Leonardo isn’t particularly one to moan (though the occasional times he does let some moans out of his filthy mouth these are the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard). But he grunts and sighs in your ears, his breath caressing your skin and sending blissful shivers down your spine. Though his favourite thing ever is to talk dirty in your ear, let you know all the things he’s going to do to you, how good you’re doing for him and how much he loves you. He is very confident in his ability to get you off with his words alone and rightfully so. However if you are to talk dirty to him he loses his mind, a flush immediately taking over his cheeks and eyes wide and brimming with unabashed desire. On another point, when he comes he tends to hold your hand and lace your fingers, head buried in your breasts or shoulder as he whispers how much he loves you against your skin.

That’s it ! I hope you enjoyed it and that it was worth the wait ! Take care of yourself :)

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

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When Our Hands Next Meet

Series summary: Soulmates are given memories of their past lives when their hands touch. For Virgil and Logan, each memory is happier than the last.

This series was created for @analogicalweek and made in collaboration with the lovely @birdsongisland! Please go look at the wonderful art that inspired this work and support them with reblogs so their work can be seen!

Credit to birdsongisland for beta reading this as well, they helped make it flow a lot better.

Chapter 6: Mirror Our Past with a Better Future

Chapter Summary: Virgil didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky being able to work with Logan in stars tailoring shop. All he knew is Logan made him feel beautiful, inside and out.

Day 5 Prompt: Past/Future

Warnings: none. If there are any please let me know!

WC: 1918

AO3 link

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @logans-library @im-an-anxious-wreck @edupunkn00b

Logan leaned back in stars stool, a quirk to stars lips as star eyed the newest frock up and down. It wasn’t a style star usually went for- elegant and flowing as it was star much preferred a lot more poof and edge when it came to dress design. Carefully taking the pins from stars mouth back into the container star took another look at stars sketch. Long, delicate looking fabric swung off the hips and just barely brushed the floor. star hadn’t added color but star knew that it faded from a rich purple to a smoky black at the bottom, trimmed with a slight frill that made it swirl across the floor. The medium scoop neck flared out into puffed sleeves that gathered at the ends to grip the wrists. star had already made the deeper purple corset covered in a delicate lace, with shining false buckles lining the front and black ribbon that actually laced it in the back.

Looking down at stars own slightly oversized jumper paired with a medium length skirt and boots laced up to stars knees star couldn’t help but laugh softly. This was definitely a far cry from what star ever thought star would wear, let alone make. Somehow though, star knew star wasn’t going to be the one wearing it, and thankfully working alone in the shop meant star could afford a side project without tripping up anyone else. Typically with more elaborate projects like this star would make a prototype first, of a slightly less fancy design, and make sure all the kinks and possible uncomfortable spots were worked out of the design and made into something star could be proud of selling. Ever since star had taken over the tailoring shop star had been working towards a single goal- making things people could feel comfortable in. But with this- it had sat in stars brain for not even a day before star had finally relented and sketched it out and set to work immediately picking out the perfect fabric for it.

Taking the needle back up star leaned close to gather the waist as carefully as star could, quick fingers moving skillfully to the tune star was quietly humming. This would certainly take a while, but star had a feeling it would be worth it.

-----

Virgil leaned back in his stool, a smile on his lips as he looked the newest frock up and down. It was stunning like everything Logan made was and he found himself caught by how grateful he was to be sitting with stars, listening to stars quiet humming as star worked diligently. He knew star used to work here alone so he was always grateful to be allowed to sit with star. It was a simple thing, far from his usual somewhat dramatic style but Logan had assured him it would look nice so he had eventually resented. Folding his legs underneath him he only smiled further at the concerned look he was given, waving it off but putting one leg back down as a compromise. He assumed the quiet huff meant he had won and settled down even further to continue admiring the other work.

The skirt was gathered at the waist and slightly poofy from the petticoat layer underneath purple plaid dominated the pattern with black accents that broke it up nicely. Swinging his current jean-clad leg he began softly humming along to the tune Logan had been repeating, harmonizing low so it wouldn’t be too much of a distraction. He beamed as Logan shot him a smile- Virgil never could resist it- and looked away with a small blush to observe the rest of the shop. It was quiet today thankfully, the emptiness being a welcome reprieve from the chaos of yesterday. There had been a slight scheduling error which meant nearly everyone had come to get their orders at the same time, clamoring for places in line while the two frantically ran back and forth trying to shove everything in boxes as neatly as they could before shooing the clients out the door and tending to the next. As good a business day as it was they had been exhausted afterwards and the day spent with just the two of them was helping to melt away the lingering anxiety.

His smile turned soft again while watching Logan carefully pin along a seam, admiring the years of skill built into the movements. He remembered the first time he had walked into the store- not realized Logan had made nearly everything there- and being awestruck at the realization of how much time and care was put into every project. This one would most likely still take a while but he had a feeling it would be worth it.

-----

Logan perked stars head up as the bell chimed at the door, managing to get one last stitch in before standing and making stars way out of the workroom. Stepping out star could just barely see a shock of purple hair moving between the racks, piquing stars curiosity enough to smooth down stars choppy, self cut mullet and make stars way over. star caught the other’s eye as star approached and star made sure to offer a kind smile to the obviously uncomfortable customer. They were gripping a couple different dress sleeves and worrying the fabric between their fingers as they shuffled their feet awkwardly.

star offered stars hand to shake, trying valiantly to be polite and not suggest a fidget cube instead for the nervous tic. “Hello, I’m Logan, star/stars pronouns please. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Virgil...he/him.” He didn’t take stars hand so Logan retracted it easily. Some people were weary of soulmates, preferring not to touch anyone’s hand before they were ready and Logan could respect that. “I uh- I like your skirt. I kinda miss wearing them so I was just browsing.”

“Is there a particular style you’re looking for?”

Licking his lips Virgil nervously glanced through the various styles on the rack, mumbling low enough Logan had to strain to hear. “No...I’m not really sure I should be wearing them anymore- just wanted to look.”

Oh. Logan knew where this person was coming from, star had felt the same way when stars pronouns had changed- wanting to pass as...well decidedly not feminine but missing the garments star had made and worn nearly all stars life. Offering an understanding smile, star turned and began sifting through the colors to try and find something simple he might be comfortable trying. “You just have to find something you’re confident in.”

-----

Virgil slid off the stool as he heard the bell chime, motioning to Logan that he could take care of it and making his way to the front of the store. Blowing his purple hair out of his eyes in a vain attempt to make it look more presentable he caught sight of someone's back to him as they browsed the racks nearest to the front of the store. Leaning against the counter he made sure to make a bit of noise before speaking up so as not to startle them. “May I help you find something?”

Throwing a smile over their shoulder they held up a comfortable looking blouse triumphantly and made their way over. “Already found it!”

Smiling at the cheerful customer he quickly rang them up and handed them their bag, waving as they left as he thought back to when he had first stepped foot through the doors. He wished he had had even half of that person’s confidence back then, instead if he remembered correctly he had nearly had a nervous breakdown over a skirt. Screwing his mouth to one side he turned on his heel and walked back into the workroom, hands on his hips as he stood next to Logan and leaned his head on stars shoulder. “You’re gonna go cross eyes if you keep squinting like that.”

Rolling stars eyes only to wince immediately after star consented and stuck the needle in a safe spot where it wouldn’t fall out. “I’m almost done anyway. Just need to patch up this side, I didn’t cut it straight enough to lay right.”

Pressing a kiss to stars cheek Virgil looked at the garment with barely contained excitement. “I love it already.”

“I just want to make you something you’ll be confident in.” Virgil smiled hearing the phrase he had heard so many years ago, remembering the effort star had gone through to find something he would like.

-----

“Come out when you’re ready.” Logan called as star hung the already discarded pieces back on the rack. Biting stars lip star glanced at stars workroom in thought. Technically the dress was done and star was sure Virgil would look beautiful in it but star wasn’t sure he’d be comfortable in something so fancy right now. Looking back as Virgil came out with the skirt hung over his arm the decision was made for stars.

“Wait here.” Shooting him a smile star left to quickly tie off the last of the stitching and tug the dress off the mannequin, grabbing up the corset as star passed through the door. Virgil’s eyes blew wide when he saw the dress, immediately going to protest but getting quickly shushed as the pile of fabric was shoved into his arms. “Go change it’s fine! I need someone to model it anyway!”

A few minutes passed during which Logan nervously worried at the skin around stars thumb, hoping star hadn’t pushed the man too far. When star finally heard the door creak and turned towards virgil however, all the nervous tension drained away leaving nothing but quiet awe.

“Oh,” star said simply.

The realization earned star a puzzled look but the brief confusion did nothing to wipe away the brilliant smile on his face. The dress fit perfectly, the ends of the flowing skirt hitting the floor just so and the deep purple contrasting nickel with his pale features. The corset smoothed out his curves while still framing him wonderfully and Logan could swear there was air in the room just a moment ago but all star could do was gape stupidly at the radiance before him.

“I must have been making that for you,” star said quietly. “You look stunning.”

Blushing profusely, Virgil raised one of his hands. “I couldn’t get the buttons…”

“Allow me.” Logan was careful to avoid making contact with his skin as star looped the buttons. Pausing suddenly as memory after happy memory flooded stars thoughts star looked down to see one finger curled tentatively around stars own, glancing back up to see Virgil smiling softly.

“I had a feeling.” He offered sheepishly.

Logan smiled, squeezing his hand in stars. “So did I.”

-----

“Come out when you’re ready!” Virgil heard Logan call for him and gave himself one last once over before deeming himself presentable. He ducked out of the dressing room giddily and twirled for his audience of one, cheeks aching from the wideness of his smile as he rubbed the fabric between his fingers excitedly.

“It fits perfectly!” He watched as Logan smiled and reached for his hand, happily taking it and squeezing.

“You look absolutely stunning.” Blushing at the compliment he leaned forward to rest his head against the others chest, drinking in stars presence and relaxing against stars.

“I love you.” He offered quietly.

Smiling, Logan enveloped him in a gentle hug. “So do I.”

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#false writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #analogicalweek #analogical week #analogical #logan sanders #virgil sanders #trans!virgil #nonbinary!logan #logan sanders uses neopronouns #fluff #collaboration

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