I've got a nice smile and I can walk around in heels

perfectly imperfect (baby, that’s love)

You don’t know how long I have wanted
To touch your lips and hold you tight

“I like you too, Todoroki-kun.” Midoriya smiled at him, bright and beautiful.

Not like that, Shouto had to remind himself. He tried to smile back, swallowing the words that were on the tip of his tongue. Not like that.

But… this was good. This was enough.

“Should we get some ice cream on the way back?” Midoriya asked. “There’s this new place Uraraka-san mentioned a few days ago and I’ve been wanting to try it since.”

“Sounds good,” Shouto agreed.

Before he knew what was happening, before the thought even registered in his brain, Midoriya was taking his hand, locking their fingers together, scars against scars, and pulling him towards the door. Like a lunatic, Shouto followed without conscious effort, one foot after the other. He kept looking down at their hands, knowing that Midoriya’s fingers would retreat soon, but he couldn’t help wanting to burn the sight into his retinas.

It didn’t happen. Their hands remained locked as they walked: when they left the school grounds, when they stepped on a bus, when they left it. When they got their ice cream and even later, when they finished it off and continued to just walk around like two normal boys would after school.


Midoriya noticed him looking. Of course he did.

“S-sorry!” Midoriya flushed, letting go of Shouto’s hand as if it burned. Even if it was his left side, which made it physically impossible. “Was– Was that too soon? I should’ve asked, I’m so sorry for assuming!”

Shouto simply looked at him, more confused than before. “Asked what?”

“To, um, to h-hold your hand?”

Midoriya’s blush darkened. He couldn’t look Shouto in the eye anymore, but all Shouto could do was stare at his face: pink and freckled and shining with sweat from the summer heat.

“You want to hold my hand,” Shouto said, more than asked, and watched how Midoriya fidgeted in place, wrangling his scarred hands nervously. “Are you too hot? Is it the cooling thing again? I’ve told Yaoyorozu to stop spreading these rumours–”

“No, no, that’s not it!” Midoriya quickly denied. “I just… when you confessed before, I thought that it could… be nice?” He chanced a glance at Shouto. “It’s alright if you don’t want to, we can take it slow!”

“I confessed?” Shouto asked, dumbfounded.

He did. He did, but–

“I mean, before? In the classroom?” Midoriya looked just as confused for a moment. And then his face turned white. “Oh my god, please tell me I did not just assume you liked me like that and made a fool of myself.”

“Like what?” Shouto repeated after Midoriya like a broken record, but he just couldn’t find his own words at this point.

Not like that, his mind whispered once more, insidious, nasty.

“Like, um, like?” Even Midoriya’s ears were red now and he refused to look anywhere but his shoes. “As in, I want to go on a date with you and hold your hand while we’re getting ice cream after school?”

“Oh,” Shouto said very intelligently.

Midoriya shifted in obvious unease. “I’m gonna… um, go? For now? Yes. Bye!”

He turned on his heel and before Shouto could as much as think through the words that had left Midoriya’s mouth just seconds ago, Midoriya was already bolting down the street.

Shouto stood there, staring after him with wide eyes. It took him a good minute or two, but then he flushed, as deep a red as Midoriya’s own face had been. He hid it in his hands, fairly sure that his fire side was steaming lightly, but it didn’t matter to him in the least. What mattered was Midoriya: his hand, his smile, his blush and the hesitant words that confessed the feelings that were more than returned.

And now Shouto knew he had to fix this silly idea he unwittingly allowed Midoriya to believe in, because there was no way he wouldn’t want to date him. No way. He’d waited for far too long, thinking it was hopeless, but… no longer.

Shouto breathed out an excited puff of icy steam and then turned to chase after Midoriya.

Exactly like that.

anonymous asked:



So let’s say Harry’s a police officer. And at his police station, there’s a rather cute secretary girl who is in charge of organizing meetings, the filing system, and things of the such. They’ve known eachother for a while now, being in the same friend loop since she’d met Niall in college and he knew him even before college.

They’d gone out for drinks together, movie nights, eachother’s birthday parties– the whole shabam. They’re pretty close, to say the least.

And Harry has this crush on her that he can’t shake, but he’s too shy to ask her out. She’s really adorable, he finds. Kinda clumsy and really sweet. The kind of sweet where she brings him, Niall, Liam and Louis coffee almost every Friday as a gift for “keeping our streets free of psychopaths and, even worse, teenagers breaking curfew.”

And he sense that she might return his feeling because out of all the coffees she brings, his is always special. All of them are usually plain old black coffee, except for his. Sometimes he’ll taste hints of nutmeg and cinnamon. Sometimes vanilla chai. And in the winter, his favorite hot chocolate from the cafe down the street. She always puts in a little extra effort for him, without saying a word about it. It’s their own little secret.

And one Friday night, after getting of his shift, still in his uniform since he takes it home at the end of the work week to wash it, he decides to stop by his favorite farmer’s shop halfway home. It’s a dainty little shop run by a nice elderly woman named Rue, who always knows exactly what herbs and tea leaves he likes to buy. He’d decided to stop by because he was about to run out of chamomile and he knows she closes at 9 PM.

He pulls up to the store at 8:49, rushing in just as she’s starting to close down shop. But she’s too fond of him to send him back out so she rings him up while tutting at him over the brim of her bifocals.

Next to the little shop is a small pub– one he’s been to a handful of times with some friends. And as he’s walking out, someone else is too.

And sure enough, it’s Y/N, wrapped up in a long coat in a pair of uncomfortable looking heels with an empty expression on her pretty face. Harry had noticed she’d left earlier today than usual, but hadn’t paid much attention because it was non of his business.

But he can’t help but want to talk to her.

“Y'know, it’s kinda dangerous for a girl to be out and about all on her own so late at night.”

She turns to him startled, but then gives him a playful eye roll. “Oh, yeah. 9 PM on a Friday night is most definitely the witching hour.”

And basically she tells him that her and some girl friends had planned to go out tonight and have some fun bar hopping, but that she wasn’t really feeling it much anymore. “I was excited today when I left but for some reason, it just went away after one drink. And since Valery is the one in charge of getting us all home, i didn’t bring my car and so she has to stay, meaning I need a taxi.”

“Well, i can give you a ride.” Harry immediately volunteers, signaling his car by lifting his hand towards it, grocery bag bouncing from his wrist.

“That’d be amazing, Har. Thank you so much.”

Harry gives her a small smile, thanking the universe that it’s dark out so she can’t see him blushing at the use of “Har.”

And when they get to her apartment complex, she gives him a tiny smile over the rolled down window. “Do you wanna come in for something to eat? I’ve got Domino’s leftovers that are just screaming to be eaten.”

She claims it’s a thank you for the trip, and Harry doesn’t mind at all. His Friday night is going better than he expected. He can’t say how many times he’s dreamt of spending time with her alone, just the two of them, even if it’s something as simple as munching on veggie pizza.

They entertain themselves with leaning against her kitchen island and counter, across from eachother, chatting and somehow they end up messing around by picking off the veggie toppings and trying to get them into eachother’s mouths by tossing them.

The game is going swell until Harry misaims, a piece of green olive ending up on Y/N’s eyelashes.

“You did that on purpose!” She claims, chucking a piece of pineapple at his nose and laughing when it disorients him.

“No I didn’t! But you sure did.” Another olive ends up on the top of her cheek.

After a few more chucks of food, they’re a giggling mess, picking up stuff from the ground and sticking their tongues out at eachother playfully. Harry sees a slice of green bell pepper has ended up in her hair, alerting her.

“Hold on. You’ve got a little…here, I got it.” He untangles the food from her locks, scrunching his nose as he chucks it into the garbage bin.

“Thanks.” She smiles up at him softly, her eyes big and bright, probably from that one drink she’d had.

“Yeah, no problem. Saving the day is kinda what I do,” Harry taps his name tag, the words “Officer H. Styles” written into metal. “Not to brag or anything.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay. You’re definitely bragging now.”

“I mean, officer of the year is a pretty big deal. Especially since I’m the youngest.”

She gives her eyebrows a quirk, not noticing how much closer she’s gotten to him. “Really, now?”

But Harry notices. She’s so close that when he tilts his face down to look at her, his chin presses against the center of his collarbone. He gives his lips a cocky smirk, eyes flirting over her own tinted one’s and fighting the urge to surge forward and bite them. “Yep.”

“Well, Mr. Officer of The Year…You have anything else worth bragging about?” And now her fingers are playing at the clasp of his belt buckle and he feels like there’s fire lapping at his back.

Y/N looks down at her fingers, then back up at him, eyes questioning, wanting to make sure this was okay. Wanting to know he wants it too.

And, fuck, does he want it. “Sure do. Care for some visual evidence?”

And then he’s slamming her back against the kitchen island, her hands fiddling with his leather belt as one of his hands cradles her jaw to bring her lips to his, the other shoving down the front of her jeans and toying at her clit over her damp undies, a needy whine leaving his mouth as he feels one of her hands tug harshly at his freshly-trimmed curls.

She unbuttons his uniform shirt but begs him to keep it on, saying he looks incredibly hot in it.

“Y'gonna punish me, Officer Styles? I pelted you with food, after all. Isn’t that an act of aggression?”

“You’re into that?” He breathes out heavily into her mouth, biting her bottom lip roughly and grinning into the kiss when she let’s out a tiny whimper. “God, where have you been all my life?”

anonymous asked:

heir!jimin being a total a-hole to you when you first meet, building a love-hate relationship until you learn he is totally crushing on you and leaves you speechless when he kisses your cheek

Blame It On My Confidence

Summary: the heir of Bangtan Enterprises is a major pain in your ass, and yet, as much as you try to fight it, you can still feel the inevitable happening (heir!au)

“So that’s the guy who’s going to inherit the company when his dad kicks the bucket,” Taehyung says, craning his neck to peer through the blinds of the staff break room to get a glimpse of the man who’s just walked into the office in a suit that could probably be bought with three of your monthly paychecks.

“Yeah. What an asshole,” you say, not looking up from the book in your hands. Beside you, Jungkook lets out a strangled noise, almost spitting out his mouthful of food.

“Oh my god, noona. What if he hears you?” he says, fixing his glasses where they’ve slid down the bridge of his nose as he puts his chopsticks down.

“He’s all the way over there, Jungkook. How’s he gonna hear me?”

“I-I dunno. What if he decides to check out the security camera footage today while he’s checking out the building? He’s gonna fire your ass.”

“Doubt it,” you scoff. “They’d never find another secretary willing to deal with his ungrateful ass. And his dad’s demands on top of that.”

“What’re we all talking about?” Seokjin says as he walks into the break room, dropping himself into the seat beside Taehyung.

“_____ just called Park Jimin an asshole,” Taehyung answers; Seokjin’s eyes grow wide.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

(Pt. 1) So I've been thinking. In Episode 1, Yuuri performs Viktor's free skate in Hasetsu. And once the video is touched on, we see a few characters watching it. And I noticed, Yurio, Mila, Geogi, and Yakov were at the rink. And Viktor was at home on the couch. And he looked like he was in comfortable clothes. Which got me thinking... That was prior to Viktor announcing his retirement. And Viktor doesn't seem like the person to skip out on practice for no reason at all.

(Part 2) don’t get me wrong, the clips we see could be at different times. But it looked like Victor’s apartment was a bit dark, but there was still outside light. what if Victor was home sick. And not just a simple headache or head cold. No i’m talking about incredibly sick. Fever, aches, tiredness, dizziness, nausea, and possibly spending a better part of the previous night throwing up, maybe the rest of the day except for what we see. Could you make this a fic if it’s not too troubling?

Wow, my first two-part ask (I hope that I formatted this right)! And of course it’s not too much trouble! I’m happy to write it for you. Also, I’m aware that I’m all out of order with my requests, but Megan from @feelingalittlesick wanted some sick Victor, and I love her so here it is!

Victor’s dim, empty apartment looks like heaven after traveling for so long. He lets his bags drop with a heavy sigh, thoroughly exhausted from traveling. Makkachin, upon hearing her master’s arrival, comes bounding over to the front door. “Hey, girl,” Victor says cheerfully, scratching behind her ears and bending over to rub her belly when she rolls over. “You’ve been holding down the fort while I’ve been gone, huh?”

Georgi has been looking after her; Victor should probably thank him. And he needs to start planning for next season. But first… He drags himself to the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and the refrigerator. Of course. They’re all empty. Well, he has been away for awhile. He needs go grocery shopping. Maybe he can do that tomorrow. He could always order takeout, except that he’s not really hungry right now.

Heading towards the bathroom, Victor settles on just showering and going to bed. He can always go to the store in the morning. Casting a glance at his discarded luggage, he decides that that can wait as well.

He feels a bit strange, but it must just be the jet lag. The sore muscles, too, can be blamed on traveling; even first class seats will make you sore if you’re sitting in them for too long. He just needs to get some sleep, and readjust to being at home.

The shower is nice and soothing, and Victor finds himself almost falling asleep on his feet. Fortunately, his nose bumping the wet glass wakes him up, and shaking his head at his own foolishness, Victor finishes washing up. He’s reluctant to leave the cozy warmth of the steam-filled paradise, but as soon as he’s in bed he has no complaints. It’s a wonder to be back in his own bed, in his own home instead of a hotel room. Victor is asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Unfortunately, his blissful rest isn’t the cure-all that he was hoping for. His muscles still ache, and his joints are stiffer than before. He’s also still exhausted, despite getting twice as much sleep as usual, and he’s strangely dizzy. He blames that on low blood sugar, and after another fruitless search through the kitchen, he drags himself out the door, Makkachin in tow.

The market is within easy walking distance, and Victor figures that it’s a good way to get some food for the apartment and let Makkachin get some exercise at the same time. Makkachin is ecstatic to be outside, and sniffs inquisitively at every rock and bush they pass. He smiles at the dog’s antics; the worst part of traveling, in his expert opinion, is not being able to take her with him. The morning is crisp and clear, not too cold or too warm. Perfect walking weather.

It’s not a very long trip to the market and back, but Victor is completely drained by the time he arrives home. He’s still a bit woozy, but strangely enough, he still doesn’t really have an appetite at all. He forces himself to nibble on some of the fruit he brought anyway. The dizziness abates a little, but doesn’t completely disappear.

Groceries put away, Victor wanders aimlessly around the apartment, looking for something to do. Makkachin follows closely on his heels as he unpacks his suitcase and reorients himself to his flat. Normally he wouldn’t bother to try to find something to do, and would just head to the skating rink, but Yakov had made it very clear that he didn’t want to see Victor until tomorrow (there might have been some threats involved). He settles on watching his past routines in an attempt to find some inspiration for his new routines. At some point during the afternoon, Victor dozes off mid-video, Makkachin curled up beside him.

A jolt of nausea forces him back to wakefulness. Victor sits bolt upright, one hand clapped to his mouth. Outside the windows, the sky is still pitch black. It must be the middle of the night. A bitter taste in the back of his mouth disrupts his train of thought and has him bolting for the bathroom.

He doesn’t quite make it to the toilet in time, and instead he’s forced to pause in front of the sink as the little bit of fruit he managed to choke down earlier forces its way back up his throat. Victor heaves violently into the sink, bringing up a wave of vomit that burns his esophagus and makes his eyes water.

There’s a small reprieve after he pukes which he seizes to situate himself in front of the toilet. What Victor had originally thought was jet lag had actually been the stomach flu, and he’s not about to be caught off guard again. The rest of the night passes painfully slowly, with Victor curled over the toilet, holding on for dear life and cursing his own existence. He didn’t think that he had anything left in his stomach to throw up, but he’s apparently wrong.

When he the vomiting finally stops, Victor is left curled up and shaking on the tile. Eventually, he pushes himself shakily to his feet and stumbles back over to the sink. He turns on the water to rinse the mess out, and rinses his mouth out. After a few cautious sips of water, he debates the merits of making the long trek back over to the couch.

The idea of relaxing into the comfortable cushions wins him over, and Victor painstakingly makes the journey back to the living room. He snags the trash can from the bathroom, in case of emergency.

The couch is beckoning to him, and he collapses onto it with a contented sigh. He closes his eyes for a moment, before a problem suddenly occurs to him: he’s freezing. And there aren’t any blankets within reach. Victor lets out a frustrated whine, and almost jumps when there’s a nudge at his hand. He opens his eyes to see Makkachin next to the sofa, looking at him imploringly. He pats the cushion next to him and she jumps up eagerly, settling next to him.

Warmth seeps into his frozen legs from the dog lying next to them, and Victor moans in relief. He pulls Makkachin so that she’s lying alongside him; her warmth is better than any blanket. Finally warm and relatively comfortable, he dozes off as the sun begins to peek over the horizon.

His restless sleep lasts for most of the morning, and Victor only wakes up when he hears his phone buzzing. He’d forgotten that he’d left it out here.

He enters his passcode and goes to his texts, expecting a “Where the hell are you?” from Yakov. Instead, there’s a link to a video from Yuri.

That’s unexpected. Frowning, he shoots a message to Yakov explaining the situation before opening the text from Yuri. “You’ve got to see this,” is the only text accompanying the mysterious link. “Cryptic,” Victor murmurs to himself, before hitting the play button.

As soon as he sees just who is starring in the video, Victor lets out a shocked gasp, his blue eyes going wide with astonishment. He’s transfixed, unable to take his eyes off the screen the entire time. Watching Yuuri skate is entrancing, and when the video ends, Victor immediately presses the replay button, determined to burn this into his memory forever. His mind is already swirling with ideas, plans to fly to Japan. Because this means that…

“My Yuuri,” Victor whispers. “I knew that you hadn’t forgotten me.”

Already Seen

[Repost] Original post date: 23/01/16

CH4: Per Se

Kilgrave waves down a yellow cab after your walk together and without a word takes the magazines from Malcolm who was scurrying behind the two of you. You watch Malcolm slide out a yellow package from inside his coat and hands it sheepishly to Kilgrave. Kilgrave exchanges it for a smaller package before shooing him away. Before leaving, Malcolm makes eye contact with you. You notice his dark bloodshot eyes, chapped lips and the worried look on his face. It was as if he was going to say something but decides against it and leaves. You watch him stumble away before being ordered to get in the cab.

“Go on get in” the purple man orders. Kilgrave’s free arm is leaning on the cab door holding it open, waiting. You hesitate and look back to where you last saw Malcolm but he was nowhere to be seen. You were lost in thought and ignored Kilgrave as you tried to figure out what Malcolm’s expression could mean.

“Hurry up” He snaps. You glare back at him and get into the cab and slide over to the farthest seat. Kilgrave joins you and tells the cab driver not to small talk and go to a store you’ve never heard of.  The magazines are plopped down in the space between you.

“You’re awfully quiet…” Kilgrave remarks as the silence lingers for too long. You look over to him and raise your eyebrows. “Oh. Right right, my fault completely. I slip sometimes. You can speak again now.”

“What do you want?” You were becoming more and more agitated from the amount of time this was taking.

“I want to know more about you _____, and your powers. They may come in very handy.”

“How? I’ve tried figuring it out for 20 years and I’m still not sure how they work. I don’t really want to share something so personal with someone I barely know either.” You turn away to watch the city whiz by the window.

“That’s why we’ll have dinner. Get to know one another. Properly. It’ll be less invasive,” Kilgrave was trying but you were uninterested and continued to gaze out the window.

“…if all else fails I’ll just make you tell me.” He said in his annoyance.

“Fine. Just do that so I can go.”

Kilgrave exhaled sharply. “Go back to what exactly? A shitty apartment? A shitty job? I’m trying to be nice here. Being new to this city, anyone else would be bloody grateful!” You let the words sink in during the harsh silence that followed. You were kind of being a dick. He was like you after all. Gifted. You’d never met anyone else who had a gift. Plus he was offering you a free meal.

“Look, uh Kilgrave. I’m sorry.” Kilgrave reached his large hand over and placed it on top of yours that was resting on the seat beside you. Seeing his hand reminded you of that vision. How you’d seen and felt his hands all over you.

“That’s more like it.” He gave your hand a squeeze.

“I’ll tell you about my abilities, what I know of them anyway, if you tell me about yours too. I’ll be as detailed as you’re willing to be. Deal?” You pull your hand away from underneath his warm one.

“Seems reasonable. How detailed are we talking exactly?”

“Like, when was the first time you found out you could do whatever it is you could do, were you born with it blah blah blah”

“We’ll see.” The cab came to a stop.

“That’s $22.50” remarked the cabbie.

“It’s free. Thank you goodbye” His bluntness made you laugh. Kilgrave was reaching for the door before you grabbed his arm and pulled him back. He looked back at you confused.

“You’re gonna pay him.” You protest. Kilgrave shot glances between the cabbie and yourself.


“Because he provided a service for us and he expects to be paid. He most likely needs the money, what if he has a family?”

“I don’t give a toss.” Kilgrave stared you down. You stood your ground so he quickly gave up. “Jesus. Alright. Here.” Kilgrave threw some cash at the cabbie then grabs the magazines before leaving the taxi. You exit the other side so you’re standing on the pavement. You look up at the store. The sign read “New York Dress”. That’s a creative name.

“Not the most creative name I know,” You look at Kilgrave shocked that you thought a similar thought. “but apparently they make one hell of a dress.”

“What are you expecting me to buy from here? I don’t have the kind of money for a place like this.”

“Here.” Kilgrave hands you a black credit card. You look down at it and back up at him. “Look I have some stuff to do, so can I leave you pick out a dress? It’s a four and a half star restaurant, tell the people who work there that and they’ll help you if you’re not sure. I’m sure they’ll find something for you.”

“Thanks.” you remark sarcastically. “How do I know you didn’t command someone to give you this?”

“You don’t” He says with a smile. You weren’t impressed. “For god’s sake, it’s mine ok? Scout’s honour.” Kilgrave held his hand over his heart and flashed you big puppy dog eyes. That was more convincing.

“Give me your phone.” You handed it to him and he began to enter his number into your phone. “Text me when you’re done, I don’t care how much you spend, get shoes and a bag or earrings or whatever I don’t know. Then go back to your place, take however long it does to get ready. I’ll be knocking your door at quarter to 7 so we’ll be there for the reservation at 7.” You could see the excitement in Kilgrave’s face growing. “Tell me your apartment number.”

“My apartment number is 151. I’ll text you when I’m done. Then go back to my place get ready by quarter to 7.” You repeat with a blank stare.

“Yes.” Kilgrave brushes off your robotic tone and kisses you lightly on the cheek. The same pleasant smell filled your nose. You remember it from that vision. He turns and you watch him walk down the street. With his back still turned he raises his hand to wave you goodbye and then answers his phone.

You push the glass doors and enter the shop. It was immaculate. Huge chandeliers hung from the ceiling and glass worktops sparkled. The carpet looked too expensive for you to set foot on and you were afraid you’d get snubbed from a place like this so you proceeded with caution. Not long after you were admiring the beauty of the place, a store colleague emerged from seemingly nowhere and asked if you needed any help. You hated when they did that. Especially when you were just browsing, but this time you actually did need some assistance. You explained the circumstance to the unsettling cheerful worker and she showed you their range of cocktail dresses. You weren’t sure of any of them. They all had price tags of $150 and upward. Holy crap that’s about £100… on just a dress? Finally after an hour of trying ones on you thought you liked but didn’t sit right on your body, you spotted one. You prayed to all the gods that it would look nice on you. It was subtle yet stunning; a long sleeved black cocktail dress with green jewels covering the bust area. You examined the dress and felt a presence next to you.

“Ah yes. A beautiful choice. This one is part of our Sherri Jill collection. The neckline and bodice are my favourite things about this piece, adorned with twinkling accents of green emeralds which really adds to the stunning style of its bib neckline. The empire waist also gives the wearer a slightly fitted feel to the skirt so you can show of those legs,” You stop the store assistant before she trails off again, you were impressed with her product knowledge but needed some time to think. The assistant perks up again. “Unfortunately madam, this particular dress has sold out and is for display only at the moment. I’m very sorry. We do have the same dress in a different colour. Instead of green, we have one with jewels in a wine colour”

“Can I see the wine one please?” You ask biting your lip.

“Certainly madam.” She walks off to another part of the store to get the dress and presents it to you. You thanked her for her help and went to try it on. It was gorgeous. It wasn’t too tight but showed off all your curves elegantly and the wine colour complimented your complexion beautifully. The wine colour was only noticeable in a certain light because it was nearly as dark as the black material that made up the rest of the dress. All you needed now was a clutch or some earrings. You decided on a simple, shiny black box clutch and some black strappy velvet heels. You pay for your items with Kilgrave’s credit card not worrying about the insane amount of money he’d just spent and text him to tell him you’re finished. He replies almost immediately which makes your heart beat a little quicker for some reason as you make your way to your apartment.

You’re surprised to see the elevator in full working order as you enter your building. Since all that dress shopping tired you out you decide to take the lift. The doors creak open and inside is Malcolm, sprawled out on the floor. You drop your bag on the elevator floor and check if he’s breathing. Thankfully he is. You’re unsure of what to do until the doors open again to reveal Jessica standing there waiting for the lift. She sees you squatting next to Malcolm and she rushes in concerned.

“Is he breathing?” She asks squatting down.

“Yes. I think so. I think he just passed out. Should we take him to the hospital?”

Jessica sighs. “No. I’ll put him back in his apartment. You wanna grab that arm?” She presses the button for the same floor number you’re currently stopped on and the doors squeak open again. She hoists most of Malcolm’s weight up and you grab your bag and try to help while you two lead him to his apartment.

“I’m _____ by the way.” You smile politely.

“Jessica.” She didn’t look at you.

“I know. ” She looked at you curiously. “I-mean-I gathered that, from before. When you threw Kilgrave through your door” You always got so nervous around her. You weren’t really sure why that was. She gave off strange vibes; you weren’t sure where you stood with this woman. You were worried to say the wrong thing and she’d end up punching you in the nose or something.

“Oh yeah. Wet-tshirt-girl” She smiled back at you. You felt a rush of relief and reciprocated a smile. Jessica fumbled around in Malcolm’s coat pocket for his keys and unlocked his apartment door. The both of you flopped him onto his couch.

“Hey thanks for that.” Jessica slid her silky black hair behind her ears as she stood up straight.

“No worries.” You were trying not to show how out of breath you were in front of Jessica.

“He’s a good guy y'know. He’d appreciate this and probably tell you if he were awake.” Jessica explained while placing his keys on his coffee table. You nodded. The two of you left Malcolm’s apartment. You noticed Jessica’s door now had cardboard where the glass should have been. You approached the door to see the faint scribbling that read “Alias Investigations”.

“So you’re a cop then?” You remark. Jessica approaches you on your side. She was the same height as you.

“Private Investigator” She corrects you and focuses on the door.

“Cool.” You reply.

“Not really. But it pays the bills and I get to make a difference” Her gaze didn’t leave the door.

“That’s really nice.” It was so difficult to keep a conversation flowing with someone who was so distant and short with their responses.

“Was Kilgrave a bad client of yours?” As soon as your words left your lips you regretted every syllable. You were only trying to make small talk. Jessica was now standing in front of you wearing a very serious look on her pale face.

“No he wasn’t. He’s an asshole. STAY AWAY FROM HIM. If you see him again, run in the other direction.”

“Ok.” You laughed awkwardly and dismissed her very serious warning. You began to walk away to leave the conversation then Jessica grabbed your wrist.

“I’m serious _____. Stay away from Kilgrave.” Her glistening green-brown eyes were wide and staring you down intensely. She had a very strong grip which was starting to make your hand go cold.

“Why? What happened between you two?” You ask as your blood supply was cut off to your hand.

“He’s dangerous and his only concern is himself. Just believe me.”

“Alright.” You nod convincingly. Jessica lets go of your wrist and smiles politely then retreats into her apartment. Obviously you can’t stay away because you’ve got to get ready for the dinner reservation he has planned for the both of you, that you don’t want to attend. He’ll be knocking your door at quarter to 7. You make your way to you apartment and close the door. After dumping your shopping bag on your bed you receive a text from Kilgrave.

“Will you be wearing that purple underwear tonight?”

You reply with “No. I have to get ready now.”

Kilgrave then replies rapidly which surprises you. “No? Will you be wearing any underwear tonight?”

You try not to grin and think about replying with “shut up” before changing it to “We’ll See.” Your heart races as you wait for the word “Send” below your text, change to “Read✓3:50pm”. You lock your phone and tell yourself not to check it again until after you’ve gotten ready.

The stereo plays your favourite music as you begin with a shower then quickly moving on to styling your hair in the way you love. You decide to wear your best pair of lacy underwear and matching bra before sliding into your dress. You then apply some make-up and your favourite perfume. You have no idea if this is too much or too little, you’ve never been to a 4 and a half star restaurant. Even though you were reluctant to go to dinner with Kilgrave, you were sort of excited but weren’t sure why. Probably eager to see more of the night-life the city has to offer. You grab your clutch bag you’d packed earlier and place it next to your heels on the sofa. You check your phone for the time. 6:17pm. Your phone buzzes making you jump. It was a reply to your earlier text from Kilgrave.

“I’ll see you soon.” His reply made you feel anxious. Your music eases your worries for 20 minutes or so before you hear a knock at your door. You’re surprised and a little impressed, 6:45pm on the dot. You spring up and walk over to your door and turn the knob. There he was. He always looked so smart. He was wearing a full suit and tie, the works. You couldn’t help but admire his flawless image. His thick dark brown locks were styled to perfection.

“Going barefoot are we?” His voice snapped you out your trance of admiration and you paused to make sense of what he’d just said. Kilgrave nodded his head in the direction of your feet and you look down at them. You were so eager to open the door and let him in you’d forgotten to put your shoes on. You become flustered and without a word you dart back to your sofa and start to pull on your heels. Meanwhile Kilgrave has entered your apartment and is watching you fasten your strappy heels. When you’re finished, you run your hands up your legs unintentionally. Kilgrave enjoyed it. You remain seated and looked up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“…what?” You watch his large dark eyes scanning you up and down. He sighs quietly before replying.

“Nothing. Are you ready?”

“Yep.” You grab your clutch and slip your phone inside. Kilgrave is waiting for you in the doorway and invites you to link arms. You do so and are grateful for the support. He’s leading you to the elevator and you glance back at Jessica’s door and recall her warning. Kilgrave squeezes your arm to draw your attention back to him.



“Don’t be. It’ll be fun, you’ll see” Your urge to retreat back to your apartment disappeared and your body became less shaky. This was probably down to Kilgrave’s words but you didn’t mind. Your arm remained linked to Kilgrave’s until you both were outside and were greeted by a black Jeep. You noticed there was a driver and quickly broke the bond.

“This better not be some random guy you “persuaded” to be our chauffeur for the night.“

“It’s not. I mean he is our chauffeur-” You gave him an unimpressed look. You were about mouth off before Kilgrave interrupted you. “Don’t misunderstand. Hank’s here because he’s paid. A lot.”

“You pay him a lot to drive you around the city?”

“Amongst other things.” You were about to question his vagueness before being ordered into the vehicle. When the car was in motion you watched Kilgrave searching his pockets to reveal a small grey box. He handed it to you.

“I got you these. Not sure if they’re your style or if they go with the dress” Kilgrave acted like he wasn’t interested in your reaction and shrugged a whole lot. You opened the box and inside where a pair of earrings. The exact style you adore. You held one of them up delicately and the light from the city outside made it twinkle beautifully.

“They’re gorgeous, thank you.” You lean in to lightly peck his cheek. His skin was very soft. You remove the earring from the box and struggle to get it in your ear.

“Give them here” He protests, and instantly you place the earrings in his hand and his fingertips brush against yours as you slide your hand away. You tilt your head away and shift your hair to the other side, leaving your neck exposed. You hear him swallow and then feel his warm breath on your neck. He cups your chin to turn your head back toward his so he can get to the other ear and your lips are inches from his. You watch his focused expression whilst you enjoy the sensation his fingers are making on your earlobe. You dig your teeth into your lip to trap a moan of pleasure and hope he doesn’t notice.

“There. Done. You smell lovely by the way.”

“Thanks.” You reposition your hair and play with your new earrings. You and Kilgrave bask in the silence before shortly arriving at a restaurant named “Per Se”.
[<-CH3] | [CH5->]

Descriptions of the Shadowhunters Characters
  • Clary Fray: A smol child. Lost her mother b/c her dad was lonely and decided to steal her. Her hair is fiery like her little heart bless her and is goals af. Very talented she can make 3D objects 2D much wow. May or may not be in love with her brother????? Is a sweet summer fairy. Her dad is v evil and totally insane but her mom's best friend and practical hubby is a cop and is cool af so he's her dad okay. Best friend is in love with her but she's like lol what. Protect her please. Pure of heart and intention. The whitest girl to ever white.
  • Jace Wayland: (or whatever tf his last name is if you read the books): V blonde and v sassy. But also a puppy that needs to be cuddled?????? Has a v dark past and his siblings are badass just like him. Is v conflicted. Thinks he's evil when he is not. Very nice to look at very cute very handsome. May or may not be in love with his sister???? Has daddy issues. Parabatai is in love with him but he's like lol what. May be afraid of ducks. Is so pretty. Please don't be evil. Be good so you can come back home to your friends and family. Cares about the people he loves. Is a beautiful baby boy. My heart and soul.
  • Simon Lewis: Too precious for this world. Too pure. Did not deserve any of this. Jewish Vampire. Could kill you but would rather kill you with hugs and kisses instead of sucking ur blood. Has a rly hot vampire boyfriend who pretends he doesn't care but rly does. Is in a band. Likes Star Wars. Loves The Graduate and is first mate to the Malec ship. Is shippable with just about every character. IS TO DIE FOR LIKE I WOULD TAKE A BULLET FOR SIMON MY SON.
  • Alec Lightwood: A precious cinnamon roll who has the face and body of a Greek god. Daddy AF. Voice so deep I feel it in my freakin' soul. Is literally gorgeous and sassy and me on a daily basis. Is tall af and is literally sex on legs. Hair porn. Is also gay af and is finally becoming comfortable about his sexuality around other people bless my child. Currently checking out the booty of a bisexual warlock. Kissed said warlock at his own wedding oopsie. Pretends not to care but does. Smile is rare but could stop wars. Loves his siblings. Would die for his friends. Mother is a bitch. 1/2 of the Malec ship. Eye roll is on point. Wears leather jackets a lot aka my weakness. Shoots arrows. Probably is Cupid because I've been struck by an arrow of love. God bless Alec Lightwood.
  • Isabelle Ligthwood: Is a queen. Is sexy and beautiful and confident. I would date her. Literally the person everyone wants to be. Is also a cutie. Outfits are on point every single episode. Body is to die for. Loves her siblings. Is outspoken and won't let anybody tame her my beautiful daughter. Stands for equality. Is supportive of her brother aka the reason for my tears. Has a whip which makes sense because I'm whipped for her. Slays demons while in freaking heels. AU version is also cute af. Captain of the Malec Ship. Is my mom and my daughter and my girlfriend and my bride I cannot decide. May or may not date a certain vampire?????? Basically the loml. Best friend and sister goals. Face goals. Body goals. Hair goals. Everything goals. Slay.
  • Magnus Bane: Glittery af. 400 years old. A freewheeling bisexual. Is fabulous and wears make up and stylish outfits. Literally slays everytime he walks into a room. Is sassy af and has beautiful hands. Has magic and does a floruish when he conjures spells Is beautiuful. Can be intimidating but also soft and sweet ugh. Has had many relationships and got his heart broken by a bitchy vamprie my bby. Met Alec and was like imma climb that like a tree. The other half of the Malec ship. #FallinginlovewithAlec b/c they are perfect together. Is shunned for being a warlock my poor bby he doesn't deserve this. Is so lonely. But not so much anymore my heart. Drinks lots of alcohol. Owns a club. I want to kiss him or cuddle him I cannot decide. A kind soul. Wonderful to look at and fall in love with. Has many different colorful streaks in his hair aka my sexuality. Understands and listens to others. Has two cats in the AU. I'm so proud of my son. Walk walk fashion baby.

i-am-emerald-dust  asked:

I've currently been feeling like literally everything I do is wrong and it makes me incredibly terrified of screwing things up potentially - even small things like cleaning the dishes, idk - it just sucks and has been clogging up my mind a lot lately... for the pairing gajevy would be nice, but gruvia or jerza would be absolutely fine with me too, I'll let you pick. Thank you for doing this btw, it's really kind of you and the world needs more people like you imo <3

A/N: These are taking longer than I hoped they would, and I’m so sorry I didn’t get to them sooner. I’ve just been in a really bad mindset and couldn’t find the drive and I didn’t want to do these half-assed.

That being said, I know exactly how you’re feeling and let me tell you you aren’t doing everything wrong. It’s okay to be scared of screwing things up but remember a lot of it you can fix, and a lot can be forgiven <3

I know it’s been a few months. I hope you’re feeling better.

(Levy isn’t my forte. I’ve never written her before, so I hope this is okay!)

It’d been about a month since Laxus’ rampage on Fairy Tail, and Levy still hadn’t really said anything to Gajeel.

Aside from defending her the once, he didn’t interact with people much. He got on Natsu’s nerves, and once in awhile Levy would see him talking to Juvia, but for the most part he kept to himself and went on jobs alone.

Until a few days ago, things around the guild started getting a little weird.

There was a small fire that charred one of the pillars that Juvia had to put out. Erza had gotten food poisoning from a piece of strawberry cake and had been forced into bed for a few days. Lucy had used a new pen that’d exploded onto a new chapter draft and ruined days worth of work, and Happy had been…less than himself when eating a mysterious fish.

Odd occurrences like these weren’t uncommon around the guild and normally Levy would’ve thought nothing of it…

If Gajeel hadn’t been around before every single one.

Unfortunately, this meant that Levy would have to say something and confront Gajeel about it, and maybe even go to the Master about it.

This was not something she was looking forward to.

It was nighttime, and everyone had either headed home or to the Fairy dorms. Levy waited outside the back of the guild, listening for the telltale klunking footsteps of the dragonslayer.

She didn’t have to wait long.

He didn’t notice her, which in itself was weird with his enhanced hearing. His shoulders were hunched, hands deep in his pocket as he slunk away toward the tree-line.


He spun around, arm already morphed into a club and Levy swallowed at the sight of it. The last time she’d seen that look, she’d ended up pinned to the trunk of that tree.

She steadied her breathing.

“Shorty…” he grumbled, shaking out his hand and straightening up, “what’re you doing here?”

“I was waiting for you,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “There’s been some weird things going on around the guild lately.”

She’d been expecting a lot of things when she thought about talking to Gajeel.

She’d maybe thought he would get defensive and walk away. She thought he’d get angry and tell her to keep her mouth shut. She’d thought he wouldn’t react at all if he hadn’t done it. 

She hadn’t expected him to blush.

He scratched at the back of his neck, gaze downcast, “You saw that…huh?”

Levy had no words. She just stared at him, slack-jawed.

“I was trying to bring Salamander some fire from a job,” he said softly, hand now stilled on his neck, “but I tripped.”

Levy raised an eyebrow, “Erza?”

“I left the cake out too long before getting it into the fridge,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.


He shrugged, “I didn’t think that pens could explode like that.”


Gajeel straightened, “Misinformation from a marketplace.”

With each reason, Levy found no deceit and all that was left was confusion.


Gajeel met her gaze, arms now crossed.

“Was just try’na be nice,” he looked away again. “Wanted to make up for trashin’ the guild, but I keep fuckin’ up,” he raked a hand through his hair, “and can’t do shit-all right.”

Levy blinked and couldn’t help but smile at the expression on his face.

He was embarrassed.

He’d been trying to help, but everything had gone wrong and nobody knew. He never meant anything wrong by it…it was the exact opposite.

Levy walked over to him and boldly rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Keep trying, Gajeel,” she smiled. “We all make mistakes, and that’s okay.” She gave him a squeeze. “Keep trying, you’ll get it.”

He just stared at her blankly as she headed in the direction of home.

She noticed him walking behind her a little later.

“What’re you doing?” Levy asked, eyebrow raised.

Gajeel looked away form her, scuffing the heels of his boots on the gravel. “It’s late,” he muttered. “’m not lettin’ a girl walk home alone in the dark.”

Levy’s eyes narrowed, “I can take care of myself, Gajeel. I don’t need you to keep an eye on me because I’m a girl.”

“I know ya can, shorty,” he told her, eyes darting up with a weak smile. “I just want to make sure anyway.”

The next day, Mira gave Gajeel a bowl of pure iron bits for breakfast.

It was the purest he’d ever tasted, and one glance in Levy’s direction told him everything he needed to know.

Walking her home. His first step to making things right that hadn’t backfired.

Hopefully everything else would now follow.

DeanCas Halloween husbands.

“C’mon, Dean!”

Castiel marches up the driveway, past the distressed-looking jack-o-lanterns and fake spider webs. Though he’d normally be terrified by the grotesque heads hanging from the tree up front and the scary mannequins dotting the path to the door, a husband is brave.

So Cas is brave, too.

He adjusts his blue tie and holds tight to the little bucket in his hands, fingers turning almost white. There’s a witch handing out candy, but she looks nice enough, and Castiel sets his four year-old shoulders before continuing on.

He’s almost at the door when he notices his husband is missing.


Keep reading

Stars Shine Bright, You Shine Brighter

Jongyu / nc-17

Jinki blushed again. “I really ran into you. Like… ‘bam’” He exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

“To be fair, I wasn’t paying attention either.” Jonghyun corrected him with another friendly smile. “So… are you going to your class or did you want to get lunch with me?” He asked. “You know, since you swept me off my feet and all.”

This is actually one of my favorite things I’ve ever written and I’m really happy with how it turned out c:

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    Otherwise known as I met Billie Piper yesterday, andI’ve been sitting in bed for the past 21 hours thinking about it. I am the legitimate example of the expression “I can’t”. I keep feeling like I’m seriously f l o a t i n g on air. I’ll get back to that though, because thebadddestwolf wanted to hear about my Billie experience. Hear we go.

      I got to Boston at like two in the afternoon even though I left at noon-ish because traffic was h e l l. There was a Soxs game, so that’s probably why but still. By the time my mom and I find parking, it was like two thirty. We walked in, and I nearly passed out because the first place I see walking in is the autograph sessions. Then there, right in front of me (well behind a bunch of people), was the goddess herself. 

     I took some pictures from behind the barrier before hopping in line because I really wanted to document this moment in my life.  These are the best ones. They were all really blurry…

   She looked like an angel of sunshine and happiness, and it took all of my being to not start sobbing. I saw Hayley as well, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Billie. So my mom had to physically drag me into the line. I had my copy of her autobiography in my bag, and I was going to get that signed. 

   We get to the beginning of the line finally. I was like three people away from meeting Billie. I cannot stress enough how pretty she is in person. I don’t even know how it’s possible to be that gorgeous. We walk up to her, and this is EXACTLY how the conversation goes.

Billie: Hiiii!

Me: Hi! 

Billie: Hi Darling! How are you doing? Nice to see you! (I start trying to hold back tears) Hey!

Me: You’re such a huge inspiration to me, and I just wanted to say hi!

Billie: That’s so kind of you! (Seeing her book) Oh my God.

Me: My mom got it for a surprise once like “Look what I got you!”.

Billie: Oh my gosh! And have you read it?

Me: Yes I read it twice. It’s really great!

My mom: The first time she read it, it took her a day and a half.

Billie: Really? Aww.

Me: The second time was for school too. I ended up using it for a project.

Billie: Oh that’s so cool! Aww that makes me feel really good! That it’s been somehow useful and beneficial at school as well. 

My mom: We listened to your music the whole way in!

Billie: Oh my God, you got all revved up!

My mom: Yeah we were in traffic, so it was good to listen to music!

Billie then asked where we were from and how far away it was. I answered, and she said: “And are you going tonight? Back home?”

Me: Yeah. I’m going to the photo op too!

Billie: Then I’ll see you there! See you there darling!

   Words cannot even begin to describe how I felt. She was so sweet and genuine and really made you feel like she was interested in everything you had to say. I can’t even describe it more than that it was just so B I L L I E.

  So we walked away from the autograph tables, and fangirled briefly with the two people who had been behind us. They were a shaking mess too, so I didn’t feel quite as alone. We started to head towards the place where the photo ops were, but got slightly detracted by booths along the way. But that is for the better in the long run.

   So we finally get in line, and in this room we’re in its H O T. Behind us were this nice couple who we complained about the heat with, a couple who were dressed as Ten and Rose (DON’T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON HOW ON POINT THEIR COSTUMES WERE AND HOW CUTE THEY WERE BEING THE WHOLE TIME.), and someone I thought looked really familiar. She asked the cute couple if she could take a picture with them, and I leaned over to my mom and said “Oh my god I think I follow that girl on Twitter”. I had been talking to her earlier that day online about what to expect at the con and stuff, and she had been really helpful. So I go on my phone, and ask if she was behind the Tenrose cosplayers. She said yes, and after some confusion, I said hi to Sam ( peggyscarters )! It was such a huge coincidence, but it was so cool!

  We all start moving in line from one “air conditioned” (complete bull) room to another. The line was so long! But finally we got to the front! I walk into the little booth/tent thing, and go up to Billie.

Billie: Oh hello Darling! I just met you! 

  I had no idea how to respond. She recognized me oh my god. I do not have a rememorable face, like I look like a trash can. But now that she’s not sitting I can see she’s wearing a long velvet skirt. I felt so bad. She was in lights, in a hot room, on a 90 degree day. But she also had on her red heels, which looked amazing in person. 

  She pulled me in next to her, and put her arm around me, so I did the same. I barely had time to smile before the picture was taken, and I had to go. But before I did, Billie pulled me into a hug, and said “Bye Love!”.

  I cannot stress how sweet that was and how much it meant to me. I’m not even going to try to describe it. 

I waited for Sam over by the pick up area, and those cosplayers walked out. They had had Billie hold a bunch of bananas which I’m still not sure of where they had kept?? and 3D glasses. That picture is up on Twitter here as I found out : https://twitter.com/Twin_Alchemist/status/627657465644122112  It’s so cute.

  So Sam walked out, and we freaked out about how nice and perfect Billie was. We also took a picture together (at my mom’s request oh my god)

God I look so freaking tall. We went to grab our pictures and Sam’s was really cute! It was of her and Billie hugging which was really sweet. She wrote about her experience, and she’s going to be posting about that so go check it out!

  Then I got my picture, and oh my god. Billie looks so much taller than me ( and I’m 5′7 so she looks tall). She is also doing the tongue thing oh my god. I look fat and like shit, but whatever  because she looks great, and that’s what matters here.

 No, but honestly yesterday was the best day of my life. Ever. Period. 

  So since the car ride home I’ve been either to unstable to talk, crying, pondering if that actually happened, and sending that picture to everyone I know. I was laying in bed all day certainly not marathoing everything I have with her in it that’s for sure until I decided to type this. Thanks for reading this!

. Long \\\ Michael Clifford Imagine.

Description: Michael is a big fan of your height. Actually, he’s a big fan of your long legs, but he’s a bit jealous on account of them too. And honestly, you love it.

Requested: Yes! But as I said before, 5’6 isn’t really that tall, so I imagined Y/N being taller than that, ok? (request here).

Word count: 1181.


You first notice it when you walk together down the corridor of his hotel. His hand is secure between yours and he talks nonstop about the game he streamed with his friends last night, but you’re not really listening. You’re watching intently as his black shoes make movement after movement against the impressive flooring, smiling to yourself when you realize how effortlessly you can trail behind, the same pace falling easily into your own footsteps as you both head to the elevators. Being tall was never an off thing for you, but it puts you so much more at ease knowing it helped you be on the same place as him. And you never felt so secure as when you realized he’ll always be right next to you, walking the same step, never leaving you behind.

He catches you smiling and squeezes your hand, a questioning look on his green eyes.

“What’s with you tonight? Is my face looking funny?”

“Not at all”, you answer, drinking him in not for the first time since he appeared on your door to pick you up. The leather jacket he decided to use for the award night is making him look just a bit too good, and it’s driving you insane, you can’t lie.

“I know I look good, but you don’t have to stare”, he mocks, a small smile now taking form on his lips.

“Weren’t you all insecure about your face just a second ago? Go back to that. I don’t like cocky Michael”.

“Yes, you do”, he says, a knowing smirk taking all of his features.

“Oh gosh, I hate him. Make him go away”.

You say with your better dramatic tone, and he laughs, the strong sound echoing on the walls.

“That’s how we got together, come on. I was cocky, you were having none of it. Perfect match”.

“Not really. It was more because you were sweet like a child. And very cute”.

“Way to make a boyfriend feel like a man, Y/N”.

It’s your turn to laugh, and Michael presses the buttons of the elevator sulkily. When he turns back to you, he’s pouting.

“What, don’t be like that”.

“You just said you went out with me because I was cute! I was going for mysterious. Rockstar. Sexy. Irresistible”.

“Those all came later on, don’t worry. And then I just knew I couldn’t keep myself off of you”, you say as you lean against him, the heels making it extra easy to throw your arms around his neck. He doesn’t move, but you can see his eyes getting dark in a too familiar way. You peck at his lips tentatively then, and he can’t help but smile in return. “Now, are you really mad at me?”

“Hmm, I guess not”, he hums, but his face is contorted into a small frown when he shrugs, not wanting to press the matter.

“Not the answer I want to hear. Do better”, you say as you suddenly let go of him, walking backwards until you hit the wall. Your face stuck into a sweet smile as you let Michael drink you in, the fence on your dress becoming more evident now that you are across the corridor.

“Not fair”, he says, weakly. “You look too good for me to resist”.

“I know, right? I tried to impress this time. Make it worth”.

He shakes his head, beaten.

“I’m not mad. I can never be mad at you for more than 30 seconds, apparently”.


“Also, what with the legs?”, he asks, staring at the fence as he just noticed it was there .

“What, don’t you like it? I thought it was nice. Sexy, but composed. I chose this dress specifically because you and the boys are always saying I have 2 feet of legs only, I thought I should put it to use”.

“Oh, I like it”, he says, and the rough laugh that escapes through his words make you smirk. “I’m just not sure on the showing it off to all the other guys around the world. All the eyes will be on you as soon as we hit the red carpet”.

You blush, and it seems to be too much for him. He darts towards you, his eyes hungry, right at the same time the elevator doors opens. You smile nervously and slides inside it, not wanting Michael to have a chance to get all your make up smeared even before you get to the party. He follows you into the small box, but you can see the frustration on his green eyes when he catches your hand again, threading your fingers with his own almost aggressively.

“You’re angry now”.

“Not at all”, he retorts as the elevator descends to the hall where the boys are supposed to meet you.

“Are you horny?”


“Sorry, it just looked like”.

He keeps himself silent, but he’s looking at your legs again. You giggle and he eyes you weirdly.

“What now?”

“You’re staring again”.

“Your own fault for putting them off like that”.

“Let’s just say that was exactly the reaction I wanted to achieve here”, you say innocently while you pull off your phone from your purse to snap a picture of you both. The door opens and you both walk out seconds after, stopping in a corner of the hall so you can wait for the rest of the boys to join you.

Being just a few inches taller than you, he can’t really do the “resting on your head thing”, but he leans into your shoulder anyway, watching as you choose a filter on Instagram to post the picture you just took. His eyes go wide when he sees it though, and he snatches the phone away effortlessly, looking cross.

“You’re not posting that”.

“Oh, c’mon, Mikey”, you starts, but he interrupts.

“No way. Too sexy. No one should see you like that, but me”.

The words simply falls from his mouth after he tries, without success, to keep your phone away from you by holding it above his head. Normally, you’d have to stand on your toes to reach that high above his head, but today you’re wearing heels, so you just simply grab it back, and he pouts, feeling cheated.

“That’s not fair. You’re already tall, your legs go forever, you don’t need heels”.

“Hell yeah, I am tall. I have been among the tallest kids of every group since I was 13, so…”

“Don’t get me wrong, I love that you’re tall. Makes kissing easier, if I can say so. But how am I supposed to keep you from doing stupid things that will make me jealous if you can reach basically all the same places that I can?”

“Oh well, I guess you’ll have to find another way”.

And he does.

When the boys finally come down, your lips are glued and his hands are on your waist and your nice hairdo is ruined, hair falling flatly on your shoulders, but you couldn’t care any less. For Michael, you’re always looking perfect, anyway.