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finnyboywolfhard · 3 years

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Shut Him Up

Richie Tozier x Reader

Aged up 5 years after fight with IT so they are 18 :)

summary: The Losers Club has a movie night and Richie doesn’t know how to shut up.

warnings: cursing, fluff

word count: 2.1k

Popcorn popped loudly in the vibrating microwave, Y/N maneuvered around the kitchen gathering the various snacks and drinks that the Loser’s requested. She grabbed a large bowl for the popcorn as a knock pounded against the door.

“Hold on!” Y/N dropped the hot bag and rushed over to the door, pulling it open with a huff, delighted to see Beverly Marsh behind the door. “Oh thank god it’s you.” Y/N said wrapping her arms around Bev.

“You sure are happy to see me.”

“Because I know you’ll actually help me get everything set up and not just goof off. If Richie was the first one here one more time I was gonna go crazy.” Y/N explained as she walked to the kitchen, handing Bev a few bags of chips and a tray holding drinks. Y/N poured the popcorn in a bowl and grabbed the packages of candy from beside her and ushered for Bev to follow her through the corridor to her Living Room. They dropped the snacks onto the table. Y/N looked down to see she was still in her “nicer” clothes.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get changed real quick, open the door if any of them come.”

“I need you to know I’m gonna snoop.” Bev yelled out as Y/N began bounding up the stairs.

“You always do!” Y/N yelled back. Once inside her room, she rummaged through her drawers to find an old t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. She put on a pair of socks, grabbed a few blankets from her room and came back down to a room full of teenage boys. She looked around at how the chairs and couches filled up, to see that she was once again stranded on the loveseat with the chatterbox himself Richie Tozier.

“Hey Bev! I think you might have left something in my room last week, can you come with me for a sec?” Y/N yelled, just peering around the corner. All eyes looked at her.

“What did she forget?” Ben asked as Bev passed by him.

“A girl thing, there’s a reason I didn’t say what.”

“Oh so a Brassiere!” Richie said in the annoying British voice before switching back to his own. “You could have just said Y/N/N, we all know you both have tits.”

Y/N simply flipped him off and grabbed Bev’s hand to go upstairs. The two got inside Y/N’s room and Y/N just crossed her arms and looked at her.

“What? Why are you mad?”

“How the hell did I end up next to Richie AGAIN?”

“We practically have assigned seats at this point…” Bev said trying to play it off.

“Bullshit. Last week you sat in the La-Z-Boy with Bill and this week you’re on the big couch with Ben, Mike and Stan. What is up?” Y/N stared at Bev until she finally broke.

“Okay, he has a crush on you and is too scared to tell you so he keeps asking to sit next to you and showing up first.” Y/N’s jaw hung slack for a few moments before she snapped it shut and ran her hands through her hair. She collapsed backwards onto her bed.

“Beeeevvvvvv. This can’t be happening to me.”

“Oh please, like you don’t feel the same way.” Bev said grabbing Y/N’s hands and pulling her to sit up.

“What are you—“ Y/N looks at Bev who just cocks her head as if to ask ‘are you serious?’. “Fine, maybe I do. But he NEVER shuts up during movies. It ruins the experience.”

“Just ask him to stop, he’d do anything you ask, I’m sure of it.” Bev said. “Now, we have to get down there or else they’ll know this was definitely a lie.”

The two giggle as they leave the room and go back down the stairs. Y/N hip bumps Bev as Bev goes to her seat on the couch and Y/N puts in the movie.

“Kay Stanley, what did you bring us on this fine evening?” Y/N said as she glanced down at the CD.

“Forrest Gump. It was released in theaters a few months ago, the woman at Blockbuster said that it is a must see. It has Tom Hanks.”

“Oh that’s the dude on the poster in the Arcade!” Richie piped in.

“Yeah it is Richie! Doesn’t it have umm…the woman who played Princess Buttercup…umm Ro—“

“Robin Wright!” Stanley finished her thought. “Yeah it is, so you’ve heard of it?”

“Yeah my parents saw it, they loved it. I guess we’re in for a treat.” Y/N flashed her smile to the Loser’s as she tiptoed her way to beside Richie. She couldn’t help but notice that there was only one blanket on the seat.

“Hey guys? I thought I brought down a blanket for each of us?” Y/N looked around the room, the sound of previews playing. Her eyes finally landed on Bev, who had a curious smirk across her face.

“Oh…huh…when I was distributing them there was only seven…I guess you didn’t.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab another.” Before she could leave, Richie grabbed a hold of her hand.

“Don’t worry about that, just take this one. I don’t get cold.”

“Yeah, okay, sure. We all know that’s true.” Y/N said sarcastically, dropping onto the seat. The movie had only been playing for about 15 minutes and Y/N swore that Richie was leaning over and whispering something for 14 minutes of it.

“Psst…Y/N/N…” Richie leaned over to whisper once more.

“What?!” Y/N whispered back with force.

“I actually am cold, can we share?” She looked over, he was giving her puppy dog eyes and her hard exterior was being broken with each second she held eye contact.

“Fine.” She untucked the blanked from under her and threw it across Richie’s Lap. She had to scoot closer in order for the blanket to comfortably cover them both.

“Oooh, awfully close there sweetheart. It’s almost like you like me or some shit.” Richie teased. Y/N just rolled her eyes and kept her focus onto the movie. The blanket and close proximity kept Richie quiet for a bit, but not too long.

“Y/N/N.”

“Richie, please, can you just shut the fuck up?” Y/N/N plead to him in a whisper. She looked toward him, unaware of how close they were, as their noses nearly grazed. Richie took in a breath.

“Make me.” He said, softening his frame. Y/N didn’t know what took over her. Maybe it was the fact that she wanted to actually watch the movie. Maybe it was the fact that she’s had a crush on Richie for the past two years. Maybe she’s using it as ammunition against his crush. She didn’t know for certain, but she leaned forward and kissed Richie. At first gently--longingly. But then she pulled his head closer to her for a more passionate kiss for a few seconds and then she pulled back. She sat back firmly against the couch. Richie sat dazed for a second, glancing between Y/N and his own lap before sitting back just as Y/N did.

The credits began to roll when Mike leaned over and flicked on the lamp in the room. Everyone did the usual stretching and readjusting to light. Stan and Eddie started to small talk about the movie but their attention was piqued by Bev.

“Y/N, did you break Richie?” Bev asked, looking towards the boy who was sitting back against the loveseat, with love struck eyes and a confused look across his face. Every so often he would just look over towards Y/N and then immediately just back to his lap. Y/N glanced over for the first time since and giggled to herself a little bit.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said just for the ruse.

“Look at him! He’s like…glazed over.” Eddie said flailing at the boy sitting there.

“Yeah, and I haven’t heard him in like 45 minutes, that’s not normal.” Stanley agreed. Suddenly, Richie snaps out of his daze and cockily turns to Y/N.

“Come on, Y/N/N. Show them what you did to me.” Richie smirked in the cockiest way he ever has. As much as she hated it, she kinda loved it too.

“Fine, I will.” Y/N declared in the same tone, making glaring eye contact as she pulled Richie in for a kiss. It lasted for a few moments before they pulled apart. They looked at each other for a few moments.

“What just happened?” Mike said blankly bursting the bubble the two were in.

“That was so…” Eddie pauses to gag. “So fucking nasty.”

“Wow thank you Eds for those touching words.” Y/N sarcastically said.

“Are you gonna explain or are we just gonna sit here?” Bev asked.

“He wouldn’t shut the fuck up during the movie so I asked him to, and he said ‘make me’, so I kissed him. It worked.” She said, maintaining eye contact with Bev, who then started to giggle. Richie’s eyes moved between the two girls, piecing things together.

“Fuck you Bev. You fucking told her.” Richie said standing up angrily, gathering his stuff up, clearly about to storm out.

“Richie I—“Bev started to answer.

“I don’t want to hear it. You both embarrassed me, I…I gotta go.” Richie tried to get past Bill and Mike who had now formed a barrier in front of the door.

“R-R-R-Richie, just listen to th-th-them.” Bill said.

“Why should I?” Richie said. Y/N nervously stood from the love seat and turned to face the doorway.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

“You’re fucking in love with me?” Richie asked shocked.

“Let’s go upstairs, shall we?” Y/N laced her hands through Richie’s and pulls him up the stairs. She slinks through her door and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to her for Richie. He sits down, and starts wringing his hands. The silence is deafening. “Hey.” She said as she leans to bump into him.

“Y/N/N…” he said dishearteningly. As she looked at him, her gut told her to just say ‘Fuck it’.

“Richie I have had a crush on you since that day two years ago when you found me crying in the clubhouse. You just sat and listened to me, and you made me feel so…safe. It was a side of you I had never seen before. And I liked it. And then suddenly I started liking everything. Except for when you talk through movies, but everything else.” She giggled, and looked at him. She loved the way his curls framed his face and the way his brown eyes still sparkled unlike any other. She loved the way sometimes his mouth looked too big for his face. She loved the way he would overcompensate with his jokes. She loved the way he would tease and treat all of the Losers the same way, and that he cared about spending time with each and every single one of them. He was so loyal, and funny, and handsome, and he was just so utterly Richie.

“You were even pretty when you were crying.” Richie joked back. “I’ve liked you since after the fight with IT, when you asked me if I was okay. No one ever asks me that. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on to this whole fucking crush thing sooner.”

“I’m surprised you were such a pussy and didn’t make the first move.” Y/N responded back.

“Ouch, Y/N, getting me right where it hurts.” Richie pretending to stab himself through the heart and fell back onto the bed. He pulled a dead face, only for a second before he opened one eye and turned to her to see her reaction. Through breathy laughs, she leaned down to hover over the boy. His hand found a base at the nape of her neck and pulled her in for a gentle kiss. It started off sweet and soft but as they realized the position they were in, Y/N flipped her leg over his waist in order to straddle him. The kiss began to pick up speed and passion. The two started to really get into it, only to be cut off by the Losers slamming the door open.

“Oh gross! You guys! We were right down stairs!” Eddie shrieked. Y/N climbed off of Richie.

“As if I would fuck him the very first night we’re dating.”

“We’re dAting?” Richie’s voice cracked with excitement. Y/N turned to him, gave him a peck and a smiley nod yes. “Oh Fuck yeah!”

“Does this mean we’re gonna find y’all making out during movie nights now?”

“God no!”-- “Hell yeah!” Richie and Y/N responded in unison, there were definitely a few things they still needed to work out, but they were happier than ever before.

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x you #it x reader #finn wolfhard x reader

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stylesunchained · 3 years

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Playing House (Part 2)

Hello hello, my loves!As promised, here’s part 2 of my little new year gift to you guys! Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think. Mwah, B xx

If you’d like to read more of my recent works, you can subscribe to my Patreon by clicking here x

It’s been a week.

Seven days, 168 hours, 10,080 minutes and 604,800 seconds since you had last seen Harry.

Seen, though, seems like an understatement and “been under” is more suitable to what actually happened.

It’s been a whole week since you and your good mate Harry had sex. It’s been a week and you still get goosebumps thinking of it - the sight of him standing naked in his kitchen, every detail your eyes registered as they followed the length of his body, the way nerves ate at you while he went away to get dressed but most of all, you got goosebumps remembering how easily it was for you two to get naked and fall into each other. So easy, you didn’t even think - like riding a bike, the two of you had given in to instinct and the instinct told you to get naked and let him fuck you senseless and that’s exactly what you did.

You had sex with your friend, your good mate Harry, the one person you never thought anything could ever happen with. Being with him was so utterly unimaginable to you a week ago that for the past seven days, your brain seemed to be stuck on a loop to convince you that it happened - yes, you saw him naked; yes, he kissed you; yes, you fucked each other. Hands and tongues and body parts had gone places and you now know what his tongue tastes like and what he looks like when he’s overcome by ecstasy - you know his cock twitches when you kiss his neck and you know he squeezes his eyes shut when he’s just about to spill. You know moans rumble from the very center of his chest when he starts to cum and you know his mouth drops around a needy, weak, pathetic little sound when he’s finished and you know he likes it best if you scratch the back of his neck when he’s done.

You know all of those things and you don’t know what to do with them other than go clinically insane. You’re sure any doctor could attest to it if they only talked to you. Every time you caught yourself longingly thinking about the taste of his lips or the heat of his hands, you felt a little piece of your sanity being chipped away and that’s the sole reason why it’s been an entire week of you continuously lying through your teeth (or better yet, through your fingertips) to avoid him.

A deal was a deal - you had house sat for him, so he would help you move - but every time his name had popped up on your screen for the last seven days, you had come up with a new lie. When he asked if you were still up for next Monday, you told him you weren’t sure. When he asked why you told him none of your appliances had been delivered to your new house. When he said that was a shame, his text went unanswered and you stared at it like it was a ticking time bomb and it would explode any minute if you kept the conversation going.

But, as much as you avoided him and pretended you weren’t doing so because of the feelings digging roots into your heart and your belly every time your brain conjured up a new memory from the night you spent together, Monday still rolled around and your moving day with it. Even though you had hidden away like a coward for the past week, ass parked firmly at your friend’s couch to avoid being anywhere he could easily find you, you still made your way out of bed and into the shower and then comfy clothes before you headed down to your old place to get your things.

Relief washed over you upon arriving at your place and having found no signs of Harry - he wasn’t parked outside or waiting for you at the door and, although it pinched a little, you felt more at ease. If he forgot it (or decided he didn’t want to do it) it meant you were on your own and safe from spending any time near him and his very strong arms, the same ones you had clung to while he fucked you senseless.

Lost in your thoughts, you had been digging through your purse in search of your keys when, after seven days, 168 hours, 10,080 minutes and 604,800 seconds, Harry practically materialized in front of you. The same broad shoulders you sank your teeth into a week ago covered by the soft white cotton of his tee, the words “women are smarter” splayed across his chest while long, yellow shorts that are the complete opposite of the very short ones he had the last time you saw him dressed and sneakers that showed only the tops of his socks. It was like your eyes couldn’t stop themselves as they gave him a once over but when you found his eyes, you gasped - all the facial hair, every bit of scruff you had loved feeling against every inch of your skin was gone. Instead, he was clean-shaven and the only part of his hair you could see were the ends that curled by his ears, the rest of it hidden by the cap he had shoved over his head.

You should’ve known he would show up. You should’ve known he wouldn’t break his promise and you should’ve prepared to deal with the hoard of butterflies that were now fluttering in your stomach, making your hands tremble and your heart hammer in your chest.

“You shaved,” breathless, you reach out for his cheek and it’s only a mere centimetre away from his skin that you realize what you’re doing and you pull away.

Fucked him once and now you think you can touch him that freely? Yes, apparently you do, but you squash down the urge, shoving your hand deep down your purse, pretending to look for your keys again.

“Bit scruffy,” Harry says, hand awkwardly reaching up to scratch against his jaw. “Thought I’d clean up a bit.”

The “I like it” sticks to your throat and instead you just nod, eyes catching his quickly before you look away - you can feel the heat on your chest, neck and cheeks burning like the sun shining above you bright and warm and you swallow hard, focusing on his feet. You can do this. You’re a grown woman, for crying out loud, and you can do this.

“What are you d--” your head shoots up again and you start to speak but he cuts you off.

“‘S moving day, innit?” His thick accent makes your heart squeeze in your chest and your knees go weak. “Deal is a deal and ‘m a man of my word.”

Eyes on his, you stare each other down silently, tension hanging in the air as the elephant in the room places itself between the two of you. You had sex. With each other. You had sex with each other and you had avoided him after it because you had been naked together. You had sex with Harry and you let him touch you like you belonged to him. You had sex with Harry. Your very good mate Harry.

“I meant to c--”

The words tumble out of you but before you can dig yourself into a deeper grave, the door to your place swings open and your previous roommate greets both of you with a cheery smile, saving you the dance around the painful awkwardness that only comes with casual sex with your best friend. Harry mumbles an “after you” and while you cross the door, his hand presses to your lower back as he guides you towards your old bedroom.

Brain fuzzy and body boiling hot, you pray you won’t lose it - it seems your sanity is hanging on by a thread as the two of you navigate your space, exchanging awkward smiles and murmuring quick and breathless “sorry’s” every time you bump each other on the way in and out.

Words were strictly business - where do you want this? Aren’t you forgetting that? How many more? And that was that until the two of you were safely tucked into his car along with your things, where you turned on the radio as loud as you could without it being annoying to distract yourself and avoid any and all types of conversation like the coward that you were.

...

Everything you owned and everything you were, had been packed neatly into boxes and now most of it had been neatly unpacked into cupboards, shelves or dressers at your new place. Everything had its perfect little spot in the apartment except him - no matter how hard you tried to distract yourself or shove things down, you couldn’t seem to find a box big enough to fit him and everything that happened between you inside without it overflowing and taking over every inch of space in your brain.

Explaining to him that all of your appliances had, in fact, arrived was easy - something about a mix-up delivery you came up with on the spot that seemed to satisfy his curiosity. Explaining to him why you were running out of the room to check for more things to unpack every time it seemed you were done was an entirely different story. You did it until there were no more boxes to unload and then you were trapped inside your new home with your old friend that was now a new … something.

He looked good - covered in sweat, hair sticking to the back of his neck under his cap and sleeves rolled up, you watched him lifting up all the heavy things and hanging up your wall art while you pretended to be too busy organizing books on your shelves. He looked so good. Good enough to make your thighs clammy as you remembered how heavy he felt between them and how tightly he gripped them while he pressed his cock inside of you. Good enough to make you dizzy when he walked past you to grab another box and you smelled his perfume mixed with sweat, the smokey vanilla scent dizzying and not unlike the smell of his skin when you were “playing house” under his sheets. Good enough that all you can think about is how the hell you’re getting under him again just so you can feel the stretch of his cock when h--

“Where d’yeh want me?”

His voice breaks the silence that had downed into the room, catching you off guard. His words make you choke on the water you had been sipping on and your eyes sting with tears. Setting down the bottle on the counter, you inhale deeply and look up at him - arms slick with sweat, he stands at the door, chest expanding with every breath he takes as he holds up your rolled-up rug, the plastic crinkling in his fingers.

“I’m--” throat tight, you cough again, sipping on some water to clear it before you look up at him with watering eyes. “What?”

“Where d’yeh want me?” Patiently, he repeats while his hand taps the sturdy piece and even though his eyes remain void of any other feeling but expectation, you can see the way the corners of his lips tick up while you fumble with your words.

“Just in the living room…”

“A’right then,” he nods, lifting it up again, arms bulging under the weight. When he’s far enough away, you can’t help but let out a whimper, face contorting into a tortured expression - why couldn’t he be a bad friend, the kind that breaks their promises and runs away at the mention of carrying boxes? Why couldn’t he just have forgotten or found something else more important to do instead of being here, actually playing house with you like a devoted boyfriend? And worst of all, why couldn’t you just be normal and stop feeling like your heart was about to explode in your chest every time you landed eyes on him?

It was one time. It was one time and nothing more otherwise he wouldn’t be here, acting as if nothing happened and he hadn’t just been inside you a week ago. He wouldn’t be smiling and laughing at your awkward jokes and he wouldn’t be touching you so casually because he’d feel awkward, too… wouldn’t he? It was one time and it didn’t mean anything to him, that’s why he’s okay with all of this. Right?

Following him into the living room, you work along with him to rip off the plastic and together you unroll the big rug, laying it across the floor - it’s the only piece of decor in your living space beside your bookshelves and a couple of floor lamps. Like the universe heard you, your lies came back to bite you in the ass - scheduled to be delivered today, the couch company never showed up and as the hours clocked by, your hopes of having somewhere to sleep in had diminished considerably. Now, the sun has set and the clock hit 8 pm and it’s only when you stop to admire all the work you’ve done that you realize how long you’ve been working.

“How is it 8 already?” You ask dumbfounded, watching as he drops down on the rug, sitting down for the first time in the day.

“Dunno,” Harry shakes his head, leaning back on his elbows, legs stretched out onto the rug. His shirt clings to spots on his chest where sweat has taken over and you can see a few drops of it on his neck and forehead. “Bit hot in here, innit?”

“Bit hot” was an understatement. The breeze coming in through the window was warm, a reminder that there were still a few days of summer left but you, you were boiling and it was not from the weather. If seeing him naked had put you in a tizzy, seeing him clothed after having had sex with him was like burning you at the stake. Like flames licking at your feet, you felt it under your skin and running all over your body, coiling in a tight knot low in your belly and burning in the very center of you. Was this what it was like? Hell? Was this what it was like to be punished for having sex with your best friend or are you just genuinely going mad?

“I think I have a fan somewhere…” you trail off, looking around the room - you’re sure you do because you remember unloading it off the car. That and the prospect of having something, anything to do that’d allow you to escape him is making you breathe a little easier.

Your hopes to make a run for it though are shot to hell when, sitting up, Harry’s reaches for you, hand grabbing yours and tugging it. “C’mere a minute,” he tells you softly, eyes urging you to leave the fan for later. “‘S take a little break, darling. Been working all day.”

The pet name makes you weak enough at the knees that you give in, worried you’d fall over him if you didn’t sit down. The two of you lay on the soft rug side by side, the hand of his that had grabbed you never leaves yours. Silence falls upon you and your ears tune in to the way he breathes in and out, slow and steady - it reminds you of last saturday when the two of you finally had exhausted yourselves and he’d fallen asleep with his head on the same pillow as you. His breath was hitting the side of your face and neck while you lie there quietly, taking in the last few hours - the crushing feeling of doubt hit you then and it had been in that fleeting moment that you had regretted what happened.

The silence had allowed you to think and overanalyze to exhausting detail everything that happened between the two of you and in that small moment, you had been sure you had made a mistake. Being under the weight and heat of his body was another factor that hadn’t helped matters much, sending you into a downward spiral of guilt and fear that kept you up through his peaceful looking slumber. Had you made a mistake? Had you ruined things that could’ve stayed exactly as they were hadn’t you been taken over by impulse? Had you managed to fuck up the bond the two of you had and caused him to see you as just another name on a long list of people that only wanted sex from him?

Those doubts and fears had been erased when he woke up again later that day, sleep painting his features and a glint in his eyes that told you he had something in mind. That something had been you - you remember vividly when Harry rolled on top of you, apologizing for sleeping before his hands were on you again and he was quietly but surely whispering into your ear how badly he’d like to get in you again. It was okay - he wanted it, too - and the relief you felt would have brought you to tears if you weren’t distracted by his cock spreading you open once again. But that had been a week ago. And feelings and desires, no matter what they are, can change a lot in a week.

“D’yeh wanna eat something?”

His words are paired with a squeeze of his fingers around your hand and even if soft, his voice breaks the silence and pulls you back into the present and its present fears. Your stomach is fluttering with nerves and you don’t think you could actually eat anything but maybe you should - you don’t remember the last meal you had, which means it’s been a while ago, so instead of shutting him down, you nod.

“What d’yeh want?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket, hand abandoning yours to type in his password. You try not to look too disappointed by the loss of contact between you when he turns his head towards you, green eyes waiting expectantly for an answer that’s taking ten seconds too long to come.

“Pizza,” you breathe out the first thing that pops into your mind. “Pizza and wine.”

Nodding, he goes through options on his phone, both of you discussing toppings and if you’ll need an appetizer before you settle on something you both like. His thumb hovers over the “order” button when he turns to you with a frown, a hand abandoning the phone to rest on your thigh. “D’yeh even know where your plates are?”

He laughs and you gulp down the gasp that had crawled up your throat when his hand was on you again and, doing your best to breathe, you shake your head no. “Not the plates,” you tell him and, rolling over before getting on your hands and knees, you crawl towards the nearest box. “But I know where the glasses are.”

You feel it before you see it - like you’re connected, you know he’s looking because you can feel your body heating up, from the very center of you up to your cheeks even though your eyes are focused on the box in front of you as you open it to dig one of your wine glasses out. Turning around to show it to him, you find his eyes on you - more specifically on your backside, that had been up and on display as you crawled away - and then he looks up, eyes finding yours as his cheeks redden.

Licking his lips, he clears his throat, eyes suddenly darker, mouth opening and closing around silent words before he coughs again, fingers running through his hair. “‘L tell them to send napkins,” he says absentmindedly.

Pulling out another glass, you set to work on washing them, abandoning him alone in the living room while you hide in the kitchen, taking an abnormal amount of time to wash two wine glasses and pop open the bottle of wine he’d given to you earlier as a moving in gift. Chest still tight and stomach still fluttering with nerves, you curse yourself for how appallingly you’re dealing with the whole situation - why can’t you just relax? He hasn’t brought it up and you’ve been alone for a whole day. He would’ve said something by now if he wanted to talk about it, right?

Maybe you’re the one making things worse and more awkward for both of you. Maybe you’re the one imagining things and feelings where there were none and if you kept this up… well, if you kept this up, you knew what would happen. You had seen it more than once with him - first, he’d try and ignore it. Then, he’d talk to someone about it - “d’yeh think they have...feelings?”. More than once had you been the person he talked to about these kinds of situations where a fling got confused and thought he wanted something more and more than once had you advised him to be clear about his intentions. Talk to them, you’d tell him. Explain why it’s not what you’re looking for right now and that you hope they understand. And if nothing works out, you can always blame it on work, you reminded him. He’d do as you told him and, at first, everything would work out - they’d say they understand and they know how it is with him but months later, when you asked him how this and this were, he’d give you the look. The forced smile and defeated shrug paired with a throwaway line about how he hadn’t talked to them in a while. And you? Well, you’d pat him on the back and press a kiss to his cheek and tell him how sorry you were that it hadn’t worked out.

The awkwardness generated distance and the fear of the distance that awkwardness might cause is the reason why, after much dwelling, you decide it’s time to breathe and put it past you - whatever it was, it had happened and it was behind you. Both of you. You had seen this movie before and you refused to be a part of it. You were a grown woman and he was a grown man - you two could work it out. Right?

Marching back into your living room, glasses in one hand and wine on the other, you sit down by him, setting everything off to the side before you get on your back and ask him how long until the food. Laughing, he checks the app and you watch as his fingers work - the gentleness of how he slides his thumb across the screen is a stark difference to how strong and demanding they had felt on your skin. Closing your eyes, you can’t help but let out a defeated sigh - you couldn’t go five seconds without thinking about it, how could you let it go long enough for the two of you to get back to your normal friendship?

“Harry--”

You’re saved by the bell, no pun intended. It rings through the room and before you can push up to answer, he’s doing it for you. Arms bulging out under the soft fabric of his shirt as he pushes up off of the ground, you smash your lips together, willing your brain to shut up about how strong he looks - you’re friends and friends don’t check out their friends when they’re pushing up off of the ground to go answer the door. And friends don’t smile at their other friend like they’re happiest now that they’re sitting closer together and friends most certainly do not scratch another friend’s hair while kissing their cheek as a thank you. It happened before you could stop yourself - when you realized it, you were already leaning in, lips pressed to his cheek and hand over the back of his neck while you mumbled a “thank you”.

“I should be the one buying you dinner,” you let out with a little laugh, pouring him a glass and you another glassful - if you’re going to get through this, you’ll rely on booze and the hope that he thinks you’re just being thankful for his help.

“Course not!” Harry argues, popping open the box. “We’re celebrating — you’re celebrating. S’a big thing, yeh know. Living alone fo’ the first time.”

“You helped,” you push back after taking a sip of your wine and he shakes his head. “You did all the heavy lifting.”

“Wasn’t that much,” he says with a sheepish smile, cheeks a little pink. He’d helped a lot - more than anyone you know ever would. “Jus’ trying to help.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you mumble with a shrug and a thankful smile that spreads over your lips when he clinks his glass with yours. “So thank you. And next time, I’ll buy you dinner.”

Harry shakes his head, sipping his wine - his cheeks are a bit red, from the wine or the heat or something else you don’t know and you watch, mesmerized, as his tongue slips out to catch the few droplets left on his lips. “You don’t have t’ do that…”

“Course I do!” You exclaim and in a brave move you didn’t even know you could pull off, you reach for his hand and squeeze his fingers between yours in an affectionate gesture that makes your heart nearly crawl up your throat. “You did everything and I owe you one.”

“We had sex, darling,” he laughs, squeezing your hand back. “Think ‘m the one who owes yeh some wining and dining.”

Silence falls into the room and your hand freezes on his as your brain registers the words. So you weren’t insane and your paranoia was justified - he was thinking about it, too.

“I’m--”

Voice shaky and breathless, your hand drops from his and you set down your glass, both your hands dragging over the top of your thighs as you try to calm yourself down. What could you say? What should you say? Whatever it is that comes out of you and breaks down the silence that’s hanging heavily between the two of you will determine how your relationship with him is gonna go from now on and the weight of that realization squeezes in your chest.

“There’s no--” Breathing out again, your eyes shoot up to his quickly before you look down at the rug again, fingers picking at the soft fabric. “You have no obligation… just because we had sex, doesn’t mean you have to be romantic or take me on a date, I--”

“Was it bad?”

The way he asks this makes you pause, shock going through your system - was it bad? Of course it wasn’t, does he not remember the way you— “W-what?”

“Was it bad?” Harry repeats, abandoning his wine glass off to the side, leaning back onto his hands, eyes focused on the ceiling so he can avoid you. “Was I a bad lay? Cause ‘s the only reason I could think of to justify yeh avoiding me all week…”

“Harry, no,” Voice soft, you inhale deeply, cheeks heating up. “Didn’t mean to avoid you, I just… wasn’t sure.”

“If it was bad?” Still avoiding you, you watch his throat bob as he swallows harshly, one of his hands abandoning the floor and reaching up to flick the tip of his nose. From here, you can see how tightly his jaw is set, lips in a thin line while he waits with bated breath for your verdict.

“It wasn’t,” you sigh, defeatedly. “It wasn’t bad at all, I—“ loved it. Because you did. You still remember the wobbly feeling on your legs when you got up to leave later that day and your belly still tugs in a bone tingling pull whenever you remember how he felt inside of you. “We were acting like horny teenagers and I just wanted to be sure you didn’t… regret it.”

The silence makes your ears ring and your body heat up with nerves - this is it, then. This is when you ruined everything. All the angst and rolling around in your bed trying not to think about how good it felt to be with him, how well you fit together, how wanted he’d made you feel and failing miserably, even if you told yourself you couldn’t and you shouldn’t feel like this. All that time and energy trying so hard to make sense of things so you could keep him in your life wasted because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut as you should.

“‘M a grown man,” his voice stuns you - closer than before and deeper, too, it sends goosebumps down your body and when you look up, his face is close to yours, eyes earnest as he stares at you. “‘M a grown man and you’re a grown woman and I don’t regret it.”

“But we’re—“ Staring at him, your mind swims in memories of the last week and your stomach swirls with nervous butterflies. The last time he was close to you like this, he’d kissed you.

“Friends, yes,” he nods, humourless laugh leaving his lips as he looks down to where your hands nervously tug at your carpet, disappointment painting his features. “‘F that’s all yeh want then I’ll leave yeh be but… wasn’t just “playing house” t’ me.”

Unlike last time, you see it when it happens - the shift in both of your bodies as they look for each other and finally, after a whole week of torture, your lips meet again. Your hand slides over his cheek and when he looks up at you, you lean in, mouth slanting over his while you let out a sigh of relief that seems to untie every knot of tension in your body.

Slowly, you open your mouth and nudge forward, urging him to deepen it - you want to feel it again, the heat of his touch and the taste of his tongue and when he finally slides it into your mouth, teasingly massaging yours, you whimper, gripping the back of his hair to pull him closer to you. He tastes like wine and it’s even more intoxicating when you taste it on his tongue - rich, deep and all-consuming, it makes you dizzy with need and shaky with want.

“Do you—“ pulling away, the loud sound of your wet lips parting making you gasp, you press your forehead to his, noses bumping and breaths mixing. “Would you like to?”

Harry pauses at that, frowning and before he can say anything you giggle, pressing another kiss to his parted lips. “Would you like to see me naked?”

His eyes shine with mischief and he records the words he’d used against you a week before and your heart skips a beat when he nods, index finger sliding under the spaghetti strap of your top and dragging slowly over your skin. “‘M a curious man…”

Clothes seem to evaporate from both of your bodies as the two of you work together, more and more skin revealed and each piece slips away. The first thing to go is his hat - you knock it off his head with a flick of your wrist and before you get to work on anything else, you bury your fingers in the soft strands you had daydreamed about all week. Nails dragging over his scalp, you lean in and let your mouth drag over the skin of his neck before you suckle on his pulse point, pure adrenaline coursing through your body when you hear Harry’s low groan turn into a moan right against your ear. Your tongue drags over his goosebump filled skin and you inhale, revelling in the smell of his skin - rich perfume and a bit of soap, sweat adding to the mix and you wish you could find the words to explain what it does to you.

Lost in your search for more of him, you only stop when his hands pull your shirt up and you have to pull away so he can pull it off. Your shirt, his shirts, his shirt, your shorts - one by one they go until he’s got you naked and down on your rug, all six foot of him resting heavily and utterly naked between your thighs.

His hand is on your cheek and his forehead pressed against yours, Harry’s warm breath hitting your lips every time he lets out a shaky exhale. This is different - his touch feels less impetuous and more intentional. Where before his hands had curiously studied your naked body to figure out what made you sigh, now he knew. His naked body over yours was familiar, warm and inviting and something you had missed achingly for the past week, which has you clinging to him tighter as he positions on top of you, a hand leaving your cheek to spread your legs so his fingers can dip between them.

“Didn’t get t’ do this last time…”

What he meant by this had your eyes rolling back and your jaw dropping against your will - teasingly, his index and middle finger dragged over your slit, slowly until he dipped both into the wetness of your entrance before dragging them up again and circling your clit. Eyes half-lidded, you watch him as he watches you - green eyes focused where his fingers spread you open, his lips parting with a gasp as you get wetter with every flick of his digits and you sigh, thighs parting wider.

“Thought ‘bout it,” Harry confesses, looking up at you and leaning in to press a kiss against the swell of your breasts. “Thought about every opportunity I missed… what yeh’d sound like if I—“

One, then another, his fingers dipped inside of you shallow at first then deeper until his index and middle fingers were in to the knuckle and you let out an incredulous giggle that melted into a moan.

“Fuck—“ gulping, you let your hands drag over his arms and into his hair, pulling him away from your breasts so you can press your lips to his.

“‘S good,” Harry whispers against your lips and you nod - yes, yes it’s good. He’s good - his fingers are good, so good, with the way they move in and out of you in the perfect rhythm and the way he presses them deep, making your hips bucks and your neck roll, thighs threatening to snap when his thumb brushes your clit. “‘S a good girl…”

“Yes,” Nodding, you whimper his name when his mouth drops to your breast, soft wet lips plucking at your nipple and making your belly quiver with shaky breaths. “Fuck, yes, I’m—“

The heat and wetness of the muscle over and around your sensitive nipples makes your skin sing and mixed with the way his fingers work you up and the feeling of his cock against your naked thigh is dizzying and more than enough to make you unravel around him. Thumb against your clit, he circles slowly until your thighs are trembling and your hands are flying to his wrist and all you can do is cry out unintelligible words that make him smile against your skin while you cum.

Instead of placating you, though, your orgasm ignited a bigger, wilder fire inside of you and still breathless, you pull him by the shoulders until he’s perfectly lined up to you, cock to your entrance and hands holding him up.

“I’ve got a c-condom,” Harry breathes out, eyes on yours, he wraps one of his hands around his cock and slowly drags it up and down your wet cunt. “‘S in my wallet o-over th— ah, shit.”

Neck dropping and eyes fluttering shut, he stutters on his words when the pink, leaking tip of him dips into the warm, dripping wet entrance of you.

“Can you f-feel…?” You trail off, hips shifting slightly down so he dips further in, both of you gasping for air. His arms give in and he does too - dropping his weight, his hips drop down flush against you and you feel as he presses in. Inch by inch of his cock spread you open, the stretch burning just as much as the last time - big and thick, he nestles fully inside of you and your legs squeeze around his narrow hips to keep him drill for a moment.

Pulsing, your cunt is pulsing - it’s the effect of having every bit of him pressed so deep inside you can feel him in your belly.

“Holy shit, you’re—“

“Right here,” Palm splayed across your stomach, Harry presses under your navel and you cry out loud, tortured. “‘M right here, can feel it— fuck me!”

Hips bucking at the same time as he pulls back to thrust in, the two of you fall into a rhythm that makes you both breathe loudly and your skins slick with sweat. You can feel the rug burns on your ass and the backs of your arms every time he pushes in a little harder, making you move against the fabric underneath you but you don’t care. All you care about is that he’s hard for you, bare and balls deep inside of you and you’re full. Filled to the brim with his cock and surrounded by his smell and weight and presence and sounds - oh, the sounds. Those are your favourites… the manly grunts that rumble right from the center of his chest, the wheezy moans whenever your cunt squeezes around him as you try to keep him in you, the breathless curses against your neck when your nails drag up and down his back and into his scalp and oh, the begging. You loved it when he begged. For your hands on his balls and your mouth on his neck, for you to “Please, darling, moan louder f’ me…”

And you did - whatever he asked, you gave him. When he pressed his hips against yours and stopped moving, your thighs parted wider to accommodate him, so he could slip that last inch of him inside of you. When he cried out, you bit and kissed his neck and when he asked you to move with him, you rolled your hips up and dug your nails into his was, meeting his thrusts and making the sounds of skin slapping against skin echo loudly around the empty apartment.

“G-gimme,” Gulping, Harry’s hand slides into the back of your hair and he pulls, making you moan loudly, tears stinging your eyes and making you heave for breath. “Gimme your mouth, c’mere…”

Head rolling, your lips find his and his tongue finds yours at the same time his other hand pushes your leg up and around his hips. Thrusts faltering, Harry cries out your name and you feel him twitching inside of you as he stills himself.

“I need,” teeth dragging over your bottom lip, Harry pressed his nose against your cheek, letting his hand drag over your chest and stomach until he can squeeze between you, middle finger finding your clit. “N-need you to cum…”

Whining, you cry out a sob, shaking your head no while you press your lips to his neck. “Not yet,” you beg, legs locking around him to keep him inside. “N-not yet, please…”

Nails dragging over the back of his neck, you kiss and suck and lick, hips rolling when he doesn’t move, shoulders tense. He looks tortured on top of you, a deep frown set on his forehead, hair sticking to his sweaty skin and the sight of him is almost as good as being stretched by his cock.

“Shit, shit, fu—“ His eyes roll back when you squeeze around him again and then his hand flies to your hip, pressing you down. “S-stop, yeh have t— ‘M not gonna last.”

“Don’t have to,” you gulp, head falling back against the soft fabric of the fluffy rug underneath you. “Want you to cum,” your lips press to his chin, his lips and the tip of his nose, hands pressing to his sweat-slick chest. “Cum in me, please…”

The moan that rumbles from his chest is downright animalistic and it sends goosebumps through your body. It’s deep, loud and paired with the way he bares his teeth before pulling back and thrusting forward, it makes your toes curl and your eyes roll. His rhythm is barely there - thrusts choppy, he barely pulls out of you before he’s burying himself in your cunt again. Balls slapping against you, you watch as every stroke against your walls drives him further into the deep end, your lungs burning for air but you don’t dare stop begging him. Please cum, cum in me, I need you to—

“Fuck me, fuck me, your cunt ‘s so—“ Words turn into curses that turn into loud moans that make no sense but that picture exactly the moment his orgasm takes over his body. Body tensing on top of you, his arms give in when his cock twitches once, twice, three times before he spills - its thick and warm and it drips out of you when, instead of stopping, he fucks you through it. There’s so much you feel it pool inside of you and you ravel in the way his face melts into sheer bliss, lips parted and cheeks ruddy, chest red and slick with sweat.

Both of you are breathless when he goes dead weight on top of you but instead of arguing, you just wrap your arms around his torso and allow your finger to drag through the strands of sweaty hair atop his head that rests on your chests. It’s hot and sticky and you’re still pulsing but when he tries to pull up and off you, you squeeze him tighter, foot dragging over the back of his leg and lips pressing soft kisses to his eyelids.

“You’re pretty when you cum,” you confess with a giggle and Harry grunts, squeezing your waist.

“You’re prettier when yeh cum,” he tells you, lips wrapping around your still pert nipple and making you gasp. “Have t’ let me make it up t’ you…”

“Nuh-uh,” Shaking your head, you scoot down until your faves are aligned and you can drag your nose over his, pressing quick pecks against his lips. “Not yet.”

“Trying t’ prove ‘m a bad lay?” Harry mumbles and you laugh, sighing when he rubs against you.

“Maybe,” you shrug, kissing him deeper.

“Can do better than this,” he tells you earnestly and you huff when he rolls on top of you again.

“Know you can,” nodding, you spread your legs open when he taps your hips, arms wrapping around his neck.

“Gonna let me?” Hopeful and sweet, you watch him as he watches you - green eyes filled with light, he’s waiting for an answer like a kid for his presents on Christmas day. The uncertainty of if he’ll get what he wants still holding him back but the excitement at the possibilities clearly urging him forward, making the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“Are we playing house again?” You ask, uncertain yourself of what exactly he wants from you - is this enough? Is there more? Does he want more?

“Think ‘s a bit more than just playing...”

#harry smut #harry styles smut #harry fic #harry styles fic #harry fanfic #harry styles fanfic #harry blurbs #harry styles blurbs #harry imagine #harry styles imagine #harry x reader #harry styles x reader #harry x y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry writing #harry styles writing

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mikauzoran · 3 years

Text

Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Twenty-Seven

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Twenty-Seven: Goodbye

“G Flat. Sup?” XY greeted, leaning on the frame of the door to his flat.

“Hey, Xavier-Yves. Sorry for coming over so early,” Adrien apologized guiltily, gaze downcast as he scuffed at the marble tile of the apartment building hallway.

XY shrugged. “It’s whatever. Something wrong? You look all…floppy.”

Adrien winced, meeting Xavier-Yves’s eyes with a grimace. “I’m kind of rough lately, actually…but I came because I need to talk to you about something. May I come in?”

With another carefree shrug, XY straightened up and stepped back out of the way. “Yeah. Sure. Come on in and make yourself at home. You want some soda?”

Adrien shook his head as he made his way straight to the couch. “I’m fine, thank you. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Meh. Suit yourself.” XY went to fish a bottle of orange soda out of the fridge as he prompted, “So what did you need to talk about?”

Adrien swallowed, shifting anxiously. “Luka.”

XY paused, looked back over his shoulder at Adrien, and cursed in English. “Is that why you look like they ran out of those nifty little umbrellas they put in your drink?”

Adrien could think of at least a dozen more fitting analogies for his current countenance, but he decided not to squabble over word choice. “Yes.”

He took a slow, measured inhale. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop the other day, but I accidentally overheard that song you wrote for Luka.”

XY quirked an eyebrow, taking a long pull from his bottle of soda as he came over and sat down in the armchair across the coffee table from Adrien.

Adrien dropped his gaze to the ugly chartreuse area rug as he confessed, “I heard you tell him you loved him, and I saw you guys kissing.”

“Did ya see what happened afterward?” Xavier-Yves hummed.

Adrien shook his head and forced himself to look up.

He searched his rival’s eyes. “…Are you and Luka…dating?”

The word was almost physically painful to get out.

A smirk in miniature turned up one corner of XY’s mouth. “No. What gave you that idea?”

Adrien opened his mouth to reply but then shut it again to more carefully consider his response.

“…It just seemed like the obvious outcome,” he finally answered. “He really likes you, you know? I don’t think he knows how much he likes you, but he does.”

Xavier-Yves nodded, sinking back comfortably into his armchair and spreading his knees wide. “Yeah. I know…but he picked you.”

Adrien’s eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. “…Sorry. What?”

XY lifted his right shoulder and then let it fall. “He picked you.”

“I don’t…I don’t understand,” Adrien replied, heart quickening, chest tightening.

XY rolled his eyes. “Okay. Look. I’m going to do you a favor, G Flat, and tell ya something good. Don’t tell Luka I told you, but he’s in love with you. He’s been crazy about you since you faceplanted on his deck or whatever. Okay? So, he picked you.”

“Luka loves me?” Adrien breathed, gripping the arm of the couch to keep himself upright.

Xavier-Yves let out a loud snort of laughter. “And they say I’m dense. Yes, Adrien. Luka’s over the moon about you.”

Adrien’s jaw nearly skimmed the floor in his astonishment. “Really?”

“Really,” XY sighed, quickly tiring of this little game. “So go out with him already. Make him happy.”

Adrien’s expression suddenly tightened into a tense ball of confusion and suspicion. “Wait. Why in the world would you tell me that? Isn’t it against the bro code or something? Nino would never tell me about Marinette’s crush on me, and he didn’t say anything to his girlfriend about my feelings for Marinette. I don’t think you can just say stuff like that.”

Xavier-Yves looked utterly unimpressed. “Okay, look. If I don’t say anything, you and Luka are never gonna get together because you’re both dumb and like to make yourselves suffer. I don’t really have friends besides Luka, so I’m not so sure about this ‘bro code’ thing, but I think I’m doing you both a favor, telling you Luka’s in love with you.”

“You are,” Adrien agreed, still skeptical. “What I can’t figure out is why you’re doing this.”

With another sigh, XY rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion. “Duh. You’re my friends. I love Luka, and I want him to be happy, and you’re what will make him happy. Plus, the sooner you two start dating, the sooner you can screw everything up and get Luka to break up with you. Then, I can swoop in and sweep Luka off his feet. Super romantic.”

Adrien burst out laughing. “Xavier-Yves…you’re really something.”

XY gave a lopsided, pride-filled grin as he shot finger guns at Adrien. “You bet I am.”

Adrien slowly shook his head from one side to the other, a nascent smile taking form on his lips. “Thank you.”

XY made a shooing gesture. “Don’t thank me. Go ask Luka out or something already. My genius plan only works once you either make Luka happy or screw up and get dumped so I can make Luka happy.”

A grateful grin settled on Adrien’s lips as he stood. “Thank you, Xavier-Yves. Seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah.” XY took another swig of his orange soda. “Maybe we can have a threesome sometime or something. You two still have to hang out with me once you’re a couple, you know.”

“We will,” Adrien promised, a spring in his step as he rushed back to Luka.

Luka looked up from where he was preparing chestnut paste crêpes for brunch as Adrien came around the corner into the main cabin.

The nerves didn’t hit Adrien in full force until he saw Luka; then, it was all fluttery sensations in his chest and butterflies in his stomach.

Their eyes met, and Adrien nearly swooned.

“Hey. Everything okay?” Luka tentatively inquired. “You were gone when I woke up.”

Adrien ran a hand through his hair and swallowed before he managed to compose himself enough to answer. “Yeah, no. It’s fine. I’m fine. I just…I needed to get some fresh air?”

Luka nodded, making a neutral sound of acknowledgement. “Did you eat already?”

Sheepishly, Adrien shook his head. “Food was kind of the last thing on my mind this morning.”

Luka beckoned Adrien over with a tip of his head, indicating the crêpe he had just made. “Go ahead and take this one. It’s still hot.”

“I’m not going to take your food, Orpheus,” Adrien scoffed, coming around into the kitchen.

“I have enough batter to make another one. It’ll only take a minute, but you might as well eat this one because it’s going to be cold by the time I finish this second one,” Luka reasoned.

“Or you could eat that one, and I can make one for myself,” Adrien countered, giving Luka’s hip a little bump with his own, encouraging Luka out of the way of the stovetop.

With a chuckle of amusement, Luka stood down, leaning back against the counter as he ate his crêpe and longingly watched Adrien work.

“I’m really good at making crêpes,” Adrien bragged. “It’s one of the first things Tom showed me.”

“I have no doubt about your abilities,” Luka assured, eyes tracking Adrien’s graceful movements.

Before long, a nearly perfect crêpe took form, and Luka had to applaud his crush. “That looks even better than mine. I should have you make me breakfast next time.”

“I’d be happy to cook for you,” Adrien easily agreed, eager to please. “I like it a lot. Mostly, Tom’s been teaching me down in the bakery, but Sabine’s showed me recipes from time to time too, and I’m finding that I like cooking about as well as baking.”

“Well, if you want to take some of my family meal cooking shifts, I’m not going to stop you,” Luka half-joked.

“Maybe I could join you for some of your shifts and we could cook together,” Adrien suggested. He always had a good time in the kitchen with Luka.

“I mean…if you really don’t mind. I don’t want to put extra work on your plate,” Luka responded tentatively.

“I don’t mind,” Adrien stressed. “I like cooking, and I like spending time with you, so…win-win, you know?”

“So long as you think so,” Luka chuckled, a slight blush building on his cheeks.

“I do,” Adrien replied decidedly.

He then bit his lip, his confidence abandoning him. “…Hey. So…would you want to go on a walk with me after we clean up here? Are you busy?”

Luka shook his head. “I didn’t have anything planned for today. Where did you want to go? Anywhere in particular?”

“The Parc Monceau?” Adrien asked uncertainly. “Sorry. I know it’s kind of out of the way.”

“It’s fine,” Luka assured with a calming smile. “The Parc Monceau sounds nice.”

While not completely free from tourists, the Parc Monceau was definitely more of a spot for locals than some of the better-known parks of Paris.

Luka and Adrien took the motorcycle up to the eighth arrondissement, parking outside of the gates and beginning their stroll around the grounds.

The scent of damp earth from the previous day’s storm still lingered in the air.

“I’ve always wanted to come here on a date,” Adrien remarked as they walked past the semicircular, eighteenth-century colonnade at the northeast end of the pond that had been made to look like Roman ruins.

“Oh, yeah?” Luka hummed, trying to keep his expression and voice neutral.

Adrien nodded as they made their way onto one of the main avenues that ran through the park where many a Parisian was walking their apartment-sized dog.

“I’ve done a couple photoshoots here, and I always thought the atmosphere was romantic,” Adrien explained. “It’s kind of whimsical with all of the miniatures of exotic architecture and the pond and the trees and flowers and everything…don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Luka agreed. “It’s—”

He abruptly lost his train of thought as Adrien slipped his hand into Luka’s.

Luka stared in bewilderment at Adrien, and Adrien responded with a shy smile.

Still wondering what the hell was going on but not wanting to jinx it, Luka returned the smile and laced his fingers through Adrien’s.

Adrien’s smile grew, gaining confidence as it morphed into an effulgent grin reminiscent of that day in the Jardin du Palais Royal.

It was so good to see Adrien smile like that after two weeks of feigned cheerfulness and cloudy, distant eyes.

“Come on.” Adrien gently tugged Luka over to the footbridge. “I want to show you my favourite spot.”

They ascended the steps and moved over to one side so that others could pass behind them as they gazed out at the man-made pond and the classical columns through the foliage.

“Sorry,” Adrien chuckled, releasing Luka’s hand and placing his own on top of the bridge railing.

“Why ‘sorry’?” Luka wondered, suddenly uneasy.

Adrien turned his head to give an impish grin. “I feel like I tricked you into coming here.”

A small frown creased Luka’s brow. “I seem to remember agreeing to come of my own free will.”

Adrien shook his head. “Under false pretenses. I brought you here because I wanted to talk to you.”

Luka gave a snort. “Because it’s not like I would ever consent to that knowingly.”

Adrien pursed his lips.

Luka’s levity instantly faded. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

Adrien shook his head, training his gaze down into the murky water.

“…Is this about what happened yesterday?” Luka hazarded a guess.

“Kind of.”

Luka winced. “Adrien, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“—May I tell you something?” Adrien cut in, needing to get it over with.

“Uh…sure.” Luka couldn’t help but feel off-kilter as he struggled to follow what was happening.

“And could you maybe let me talk without responding until I’m done, please?” Adrien requested through a grimace. “I’m sorry. I just…I need to get this out, and I’m not sure I can do it if you interrupt me, so… Sorry.”

Luka gently rested his hand on Adrien’s shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze. “Hey. You can tell me anything, okay? I promise I’ll let you finish.”

Adrien shot Luka a grateful smile before taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. He tightened and loosened his grip on the bridge railing, swallowed, and then began.

“You know how I’ve been acting even crazier than usually these past two weeks?”

Luka frowned reprovingly. “Okay, I’m not going to stand here silently and listen to you talk down about yourself, so—”

“—I saw you kissing Xavier-Yves,” Adrien blurted out, needing to continue before he lost the courage to do so. “and it completely crushed me because I’m in love with you.”

Luka stared, blinked, and finally found his tongue. “You…what?”

“I’m in love with you,” Adrien repeated more slowly as the most vulnerable smile spread over his lips in complete surrender. “I’ve had a crush on you pretty much as long as we’ve known one another, but, recently, I’ve realized that, somewhere along the way, I really, truly fell in love with you. I’m not sure when exactly…but…here we are.”

Adrien shrugged and then awaited Luka’s response.

It took a minute, but Luka finally pieced together the words. “You’re sure?”

Adrien’s head cocked slightly to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Sorry.” Luka shook his head, mentally kicking himself. “I just mean… Not that I don’t believe you, but…”

He took a slow inhale and tried again. “Adrien, I don’t need to tell you that you’ve been through a lot this past month, and I know I’ve kind of been there supporting you through this. A lot of times, in that kind of situation, people can start thinking they have feelings for the person taking care of them, and I don’t—”

“—Luka.” Adrien reached out to cup Luka’s cheek. “My feelings for you aren’t new. You triggered my sexuality crisis, after all.”

Heat burned in Luka’s cheeks, and he gulped. “O-Oh?”

Adrien nodded, his smile returning. “Yeah. I’ve always known I had a crush on you. It’s just that I recently realized that my feelings weren’t just a crush. I don’t think they have been for a while, so you don’t have anything to worry about. I’m not going to improve mentally or emotionally and suddenly realize my feelings for you were fake or anything like that.”

“Oh,” Luka repeated quietly, gaze getting caught on Adrien’s eyes and the way their glittering green was perfectly set off by the trees and the water and the sky.

“So…I love you…Middle C,” Adrien whispered, angling his body to face Luka.

Instinctively, Luka stepped in, his hands going to Adrien’s hips. “I love you too, Perfect Fifth. From the moment I saw your eyes light up when you spotted that keyboard the day we first met.”

“Luka,” Adrien breathed as their eyes slipped closed and their noses gently bumped.

A shred of his higher brain function remained as he cautioned, “I don’t know if I should be doing this. I still need to talk to you about—”

“—Please,” Luka pleaded. “Adrien, please kiss me.”

He did, and it was sweet and slow and perfect, a gentle nibbling of Adrien’s lips against Luka’s.

Luka kept his eyes closed for a moment after Adrien pulled away, and when he opened them, he found Adrien searching his face apprehensively.

Luka blinked. “Everything okay?”

“Perfect,” Adrien sighed. “Only, now, I’m going to ruin everything.”

“I promise you that there’s nothing you could do to ruin that kiss,” Luka scoffed lightly.

Adrien winced. “What if I tell you we can’t kiss again for a long time?”

“Well, that wouldn’t ruin everything,” Luka assured. “But can I ask why?”

Adrien pulled back, looking out at the pond and the columns again as he explained, “I don’t want to keep you in limbo. I need to be completely honest with you: I can’t date right now.”

Luka stepped in closer so that his shoulder brushed Adrien’s.

Adrien tentatively peeked up at Luka. “I’m sorry. You know about as well as I do that I’m not in good shape at the moment with everything going on. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us to try to start anything right now.”

Luka gradually began to nod. “I think that’s a really mature decision. I don’t necessarily like it, but I’m really proud of you for being able to come to that kind of conclusion.”

Adrien sighed, a melancholy smile hovering on his lips. “I’m serious about you, you know. I don’t want to mess this up, so…I think I need to wait until I’m healthier. I don’t want things to always be the way they’ve been the past month.”

He met Luka’s eyes as he elaborated, “I can’t express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but healthy relationships are partnerships. I need to be able to pull my own weight.”

Luka opened his mouth to respond, but Adrien shook his head, insisting, “I can’t always be needing you to help and comfort me. That’s not right, and it’s not fair to you.”

Luka’s eyes widened.

“You deserve a partner who can be there to support you too,” Adrien stressed. “I think I could be that person someday, but right now…”

He shook his head sadly.

“I can wait however long you think is necessary,” Luka assured.

Adrien shook his head again. “I’m not asking you to. If you want…I mean…Xavier-Yves is actually a great guy, and you like him, Luka. You shouldn’t have to wait around while I get my stuff together.”

Luka rolled his eyes. “Okay, yes. I will admit that Xavier-Yves is an attractive prospect, but…Adrien…my heart chose you.”

Adrien’s mouth fell open in surprise.

Luka leaned in and pressed a kiss to Adrien’s temple. “I’ll wait for you.”

Still taken aback, Adrien stammered, “I’ll do my best to be worthy of you.”

Luka pulled Adrien into a side hug. “You already are, P5.”

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stevesnailbat · 4 years

Text

fear of the (un)known | steve harrington

chapter seven : happier

summary: Grace, or 007 as she had been called, finally escaped Hawkins Lab after seventeen long years. But, freedom is a lot harder than she thought it would be to maintain.

warnings: pining once again, a little angsty

word count: 2.0K

a/n: this chapter took forever so my bad!! but there’s a time jump and everything is about to get a lot more interesting after this one!! hopefully I'll be more consistent with chapters 8 through 12 :) gif by @harringtown

read the rest HERE!

-june 1985-

“So you’re telling me that you didn’t even know when your birthday was until you were sixteen? Like, not a single 'happy birthday' or any kind of celebration during the whole time you were there?” Lucas implores, plopping down next to Max on Hopper’s couch.

“They were in a lab, dipshit. It's not like they were at some fun summer camp or something.” Steve quips, shoving Lucas' shoulder lightly as he leaned against the back of the couch.

“The most fun I ever had in the lab was when they’d let me stay out of my room for the day, if you’d even call that fun. I found my own fun in messing with people’s minds when I was younger.” Grace retorts, a small smile passing over her face for a moment.

“What about you, El?” Max asks, facing the girl sitting next to Mike on the couch. “Did you ever get to celebrate anything?”

El only shook her head, looking from Max over to Grace, a sad look on her face. Grace rubs her hand along El’s shoulder for a moment, knowing that she hated thinking about the small details and bad memories of being in the lab.

“So, it’s settled then.” Max says, a smile lighting up her face as an idea crossed her mind.

“What’s settled?” Mike interjects snidely, making Max’s eyes narrow in his direction.

“Grace just said that her eighteenth birthday is this weekend, right?” Max snaps, watching the rest of them nod. “El said she’s never had any birthday celebration either. So, let’s give them both a birthday party!”

“You guys really don’t have to—“

“Oh c’mon, Grace! It’ll be fun!” Max pleads, and Mike, Lucas and Will nod excitedly.

“I don’t need a party, I can assure you that.” Grace insists, shaking her head while smiling kindly at the redhead. “But we can celebrate El’s birthday in place of mine.”

El’s eyes light up at the thought of celebrating with all of her friends, which warms Grace’s heart. She gives her a look as if to say ‘thank you’ for giving them the idea, and Grace ruffles her hair lovingly.

“Alright, enough talk about this, we can work out all the details later. Right now, I need to get you all home before I get yelled at or accused of losing you all.” Steve interjects, throwing his chin up as he points to the door, motioning for the kids to get up.

Everyone says their goodbyes and the kids head out the door to go towards the BMW in the drive. Steve shoots a small smile and wave in Grace’s direction before turning to leave the house, closing the front door behind him. Grace could feel her heart skip a beat merely because of the eye contact they just had. She knew she was in too deep to lose the crush she had on him to simply be his friend. She stared at the spot that Steve last stood for a little longer than anticipated, only breaking from her thoughts at the sound of El’s giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Grace asks, quirking her eyebrows questionably at the smiling girl next to her.

“You like Steve.” she replies simply, making Grace’s eyes go wide momentarily.

“Only as a friend, El.” Grace says calmly, trying not to blush at her blunt statement. “That’s it.”

El gives her an incredulous smile, as if to tell her that she’s not very believable. Grace huffs quietly at El, chewing on her lip as she wracks her brain for something to say to cover up her feelings. She didn’t want everyone knowing what she was feeling, even though it was quite obvious to everyone around.

“Even if I did like Steve, I would never do anything about it.” she said weakly, biting back the feeling of sadness she felt at the words she spoke. “He thinks I’m just the crazy girl who showed up in his backyard and got into his mind a few times.”

The look on El’s face showed that she didn’t believe a word coming from Grace’s mouth once again. El knew that there was some kind of feelings between the two of them. She’d seen the way Grace would sneak long, admiring glances at Steve while he was reading to her at the table, and she’d noticed how willing he was to do almost anything to help her. They kept coming back together, but neither of them wanted to admit why.

El only shook her head at Grace’s answer before standing up from the couch, heading towards her room without a word. Grace didn’t have the words to describe how she really felt, but she knew that, in her mind, El did.

For the next two days, Grace and El didn’t hear much from the party. Of course, El talked on the phone with Mike and would visit with him—with supervision by Grace or Hop—at the cabin, but that was the extent of it. They were both becoming a curious about the sudden disconnect. Little did they know, Steve and the kids were planning a birthday party for both of them throughout the course of those two missing days.

When the Saturday came, El got a call from Mike around 3 p.m., telling her that he was leaving his house to ride over to the cabin. She was excited as usual, just the thought of seeing Mike bringing a smile to her face. Seeing the way El lit up around him made Grace’s chest ache, but her heart swell. She wanted something like that, something that would make her smile the way seeing Mike made El smile.

Thirty minutes passed and there was a knock on the front door. El rushed past where Grace and Hopper were sitting in the living room, hurrying to open the door with a smile on her face. The smile on her face faltered slightly when she opened the door to see how many people were there. The party and Steve stood on the other side of the door, balloons, gifts, cake and pizza boxes in tow.

“Surprise!” the kids say in unison, making Grace and Hopper turn to see what was happening at the door.

They all walked inside, setting everything down as they piled into the living room and kitchen area. Grace stood from the couch as she looked over to Hopper in the recliner next to her, who had a small smile on his lips. She walked over to the kitchen, heart filling with warmth at the sight of El’s grin. Max looked over to her and El after setting the balloons down, watching as El skipped past her to talk to Mike. Grace had noticed that El ignored the girl, but had never brought it up. She pulled Max into a quick hug, a smile still stuck on her face.

“Thank you for doing this for her, I’m sure she really appreciates it. Even if she doesn't say it to you directly.” Grace says thankfully.

“Don’t thank me, thank Steve for putting all of this together.” she says, pointing at Steve, who was already digging into the pizza they brought. “He planned it all and even put your name on the cake and got you a present.”

Grace’s stomach was in knots now, the thought of Steve putting in that much effort for her making her feel nauseous. She looked over to him, locking eyes with him for a long moment. Steve smiled at her, completely skipping past the pain in her eyes as she smiled back. She walked towards him, reaching for a plate to grab some pizza too.

“You didn’t have to do that, y’know.” Grace says quietly to him, peering over at him with a hesitant gaze as he furrowed his brows. “You didn’t have to make the party for me too, I told you it should just be about El.”

“It’s no big deal, Grace. It is your actual birthday after all. You’re an adult now, you’re free. You deserve some kind of celebration.” Steve insists, nudging her shoulder as he continued to eat.

The pain in her stomach grew deeper as Steve said that she was free, because she knew she was far from it. She was far from being able to celebrate anything. But, she forced a smile onto her face to show appreciation for the nice gesture. Grace was truly grateful for everything he did, but knew it wasn’t just out of the kindness of his heart. She knew he was forcing his feelings down too. It was better that way. They both knew it.

The celebration continued with bubbly chatter and laughing. The kids carried on happy conversations about comics and new movies coming to theaters soon while Grace and Steve listened passively, neither of them saying much to the other. The scene in front of Grace was enough to make her smile, really. Seeing them all happy and content made her feel at home, like she was finally growing into a normal life again.

Steve couldn’t help but notice the smile on her face, and couldn’t help but stare at her longingly. He felt himself getting lost in her smile for a moment, a feeling of adoration spreading through his body as he did. A rough hand on his shoulder shook him from his thoughts, Hopper had noticed the trance he was in and had to break him from it. Steve’s cheeks grew hot at the thought of getting caught, but Grace didn’t notice the interaction at all.

“How about you bring over those presents you brought?” Hopper suggests to Steve, making Grace and El snap their heads in their direction.

“Oh—Right, yeah. I’ll get those.” Steve stammers, standing up from the chair abruptly to grab the gift bags.

Steve handed the bags to Grace and El, and each of them dug into them quickly. El’s smile grew even wider—if that was even possible—when she saw the comics and mixtapes inside the bag from her friends. Grace pulled out several movies and some mixtapes, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the mix of presents in front of her.

“You said Hop wasn’t too fond of you reading so much, so I thought you’d like some movies and music instead.” Steve says, picking up one of the movies from the table to look at it.

“You really didn’t have to do this—“

“But I wanted to do it. So, just accept the gifts, Grace.” Steve laughs bitterly, raising his eyebrows at the frown that crossed her face. “This is what friends are for.”

“Thank you, Steve.” she says, pulling him in for a quick hug. “You’re a great friend.”

There was something about hearing the word ‘friend’ slip from her lips that made Steve nauseous. Of course, he had just called her a friend, but it seemed all too real when she said it to him. He forced a smile as she pulled away, watching as she let her eyes flicker from his quickly to avoid his gaze. Steve felt like his heart was being ripped out by the thought of never being able to find out what life would be like with Grace, it was all he wanted. But it was better that way, things were better with them as just friends.

So, he sucked it up and hid his emotions, like he always did. He watched her from afar, seeing the smile on her face as she talked about the movies he bought with Max and Will. The only thing he wanted was for her to be happy, and this was how it had to be for that to happen.

tags: @sourapplebaby @harringtown @jxnehxpper @charmed-asylum @daddystevee @queenofthehairharrington @heart-eye-harrington @hystericalmedicine @a-magey @lemonypink @karasong @batbatsupermanme @used-avocado @letscici @igotmadskills @mikariell95 @anerroroccurrrrred @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @ilovebucketbarnes @bravest-at-heart

#fear of the (un)known #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x lab escapee!oc #steve harrington x lab escapee #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things x lab escapee!oc #stranger things x original character #stranger things x oc #stranger things x lab escapee #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst #stranger things fanfic

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smileyoongle · 5 years

Text

I Really Really Like You (Kim Taehyung One Shot)

Requested by @adsku

So I am actually working on all your requests side by side. Don't worry, I'll definitely be doing all of them in case you thought I've only been focusing on all my series.

Summary: A one shot where Taehyung ends up setting his eyes on you during a fan meet. Oh but wait! You aren't actually a fan.

Taehyung sighed, kicking the empty bottle that laid on the floor behind the stage that had been set up for the fan meet. He was exhausted with all the promotions that the band had been doing since the comeback. He wasn't complaining though, he loved this life, minus the lack of privacy that came with the job, of course.

"Up in 2 minutes!" The manager yelled, sending all the make-up artists into action as they did the last touches on all the members' make up. Taehyung stood still, drowning in his thoughts while his make up was being perfected. He practiced his smile again and again, stretching his lips to get that boxy grin that the fans loved. They were very predictable and this left no element of surprise in Taehyung's life. He craved that. He wanted someone to catch him off guard and take his breath away. He wanted someone to look at him and pay him no attention. He wanted to fight for someone and chase her till the end of the earth, getting too tired of being chased himself.

"Tae, you alright?" Taehyung snapped out of his thoughts, Jimin's voice pulling him back to reality. He looked at his friend, smiling and nodding, covering up any traces of misery from his face. Jimin squeezed his shoulder, mirroring his smile before turning back towards the entrance of the stage, the manager's voice alerting everyone to take their positions. Taehyung inhaled deeply, pulling together his velvet pink suit jacket and stepping out on the set up stage, the fanchants overpowering his entire being.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Look, I'm not even a fan so you don't have to worry about me leaking any kind of organizational secrets or whatever. Just...please give me my phone back." You pleaded, narrowing your eyes in desperation. The old and scary looking woman only glared at you in response, making you groan. You were attending a BTS fan meet with your best friend, even though you weren't much of a fan. These guys were everywhere so it was almost impossible to not know them. Besides, you had never said no to your friend, especially when she showed you those puppy eyes. And now, you regretted your lack of selfishness. You could have been at home, binging a random show on Netflix but here you were, arguing with a manager because your phone had been confiscated soon after the BTS members had stepped up on stage. But what were you to do? You hadn't listened to a single song from their new album.

"Sorry, young lady, but the instructions have been made clear from the start. You are not to use your phone during the first fan sign for the album and you did exactly that. Now you'll get your phone after the event ends." She said, walking away as you stared longingly at your phone that was clutched between her fingers. What a bummer!

You rolled your eyes and headed back to where your best friend stood, glaring at her but she was too busy listening to what the seven people on the stage were saying. You cursed under your breath, crossing your arms and waiting patiently for the event to be over.

Taehyung smiled at the crowd in front of him, speaking and singing occasionally on the mic in his hand. He recognised a lot of faces, having a special memory associated with each one. Every single person in the room was all smiles and laughs, making Taehyung think that maybe he would forget about his worries for a while. Yeah, that sounded good.

But it's all good only while it lasts because the second Taehyung saw your annoyed face, he was back into his spiral. It wasn't because of how lonely he felt. It was because he witnessed what he could have instead. You.

It wasn't very hard to figure out that you weren't a fan, judging from the way your attention was fixed on the ceiling but Taehyung felt like his heart was gonna leap out of his chest. You were a sight for sore eyes, standing out of the crowd with your nonchalant eyes and restless gestures. As if things couldn't get worse, you slowly looked up at the stage, your eyes falling on his and Taehyung swore he was gonna pass out from the rush of adrenaline that ran down his spine. What was wrong with him?

You didn't know what was going on but you certainly knew that it wasn't normal for idols to just stare at someone without even blinking. For a second, you felt insecure, squirming in your place and looking around to avoid eye contact with the blue haired male but his gaze was too intense for you to ignore. So you ducked your head behind your friend's shoulder and began playing a game of hide and seek. Judging by his smile, he was enjoying this and you swore you had the strongest urge to wipe that stupidly handsome smile off his face.

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Your knees rested against the carpeted floor, your eyes looking everywhere but the man in front of you. Jimin, wasn't it?

You had already been past the other five members and now there were just two left. You weren't very nervous at first since all you had to do was get the album signed and make small talk but as you approached the blue haired guy, whose name was Taehyung, you started feeling anxious. You were still worried about getting your phone back but this seemed to be a bigger problem.

He made you nervous for no reason.

Jimin signed your album and passed it to Taehyung, smiling at you and talking to you as and when you gave him a response. You could sense their demotivation upon your lack of fruitful responses but you were trying your best. Telling them that you weren't even a fan would probably be worse. Jimin waved at you, making you gulp as you dragged yourself to Taehyung, his eyes burning holes at the side of your head.

You saw your album lying untouched in front of him, your eyes refusing to look at him.

"Hmm...you can look at me, you know? Don't worry about being awkward, I can tell you aren't really fond of us." His words had your eyes widening like saucers, your head immediately looking up at him. How? He gave you that sweet grin of his, making your heart swoon and your cheeks warm up.

Y/N. Stop.

You narrowed your eyes at him, scrunching up your nose to let him know that you were really annoyed. "Of course you'd know. That's what the staring was for, wasn't it?" You barked, your voice hushed as to not draw too much attention. Taehyung laughed, throwing his head back and you swore you had never seen a sight so beautiful. Damn it.

"Why? Can I not look at pretty girls?" Taehyung asked, his eyes showing clear signs that he was teasing you. And you just couldn't help the way your heart began racing. You crossed your arms, glaring at him in frustration. Taehyung frowned, not liking the way your eyes looked beyond disappointed. He was only playing around with you, with no intention of offending you.

"Is something wrong?" You looked at him, unsure. It was probably his manager or something that took your phone away. That's when you saw the woman standing behind him, her eyes fixed on you with a sour expression on her face.

"Time to leave." She voiced, making Taehyung quickly turn around and ask her for a minute more. He was absolutely not ready to end this conversation. It was fun flirting with you but by the looks of it, you hadn't figured it out yet.

"Come on, tell me. I won't sleep the entire night if you don't tell me." Taehyung whined, resting his chin on the back of his hands. You cleared your throat, glancing away from him to hide your flustered expression. "You should ask your...manager who has been holding my phone hostage." You nudged your head towards the woman, pursing your lips when she glared at you. Wow. Why so stuck up?

Taehyung looked back at the woman, one of the new managers who took her job absolutely very seriously. And that was a good thing, obviously. But she wasn't one for letting these things slide. If anything, Taehyung guessed you were just really unfortunate for having been caught.

It wasn't gonna be hard for him to get your phone back right at this minute but... where's the fun in that? If he stalled, he could maybe see you after the event too. And from there, things could definitely escalate in a good way.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, humming before speaking up. "What do I get if I help you?" You scoffed, looking at him in disbelief. What could he possibly get from you? A star idol and a normal girl. He was definitely mistaken about your status.

"What do you want?"

"A date."

You choked on your own spit, ducking your head down to hide the way your face was flushed in surprise. A date? Well, that was new. You patted your chest, breathing deeply to calm yourself down before looking at the man before you. He had an amused smirk planted on his lips, probably satisfied with the reaction you got. You shook your head.

"You know what? I'll just get it from her after the event, thank you very much." With that, you stood up and ran off the stage, your feet not being able to stop until you reached the exit. Finally, you looked back at him, his shocked expression sending waves of satisfaction crashing on you. He was crazy if he thought you'd actually fall for it, knowing that celebrities never took dates seriously until they were done with their starstruck lives. He was probably gonna fool around with you for a while before deciding that meeting you wasn't very fun. Or worse. Maybe he was gonna stand you up.

You turned back to the exit and left the place, concluding that you were going to wait outside until this stupid event was over. That was probably a bad decision because you ended up waiting for hours before people were finally going back for good. Your best friend's refusal to stay with you made you wonder if she really was worth your time. You came to this fan sign for her and this was what you got. You groaned and leaned against a wall, your back hurting from your uncomfortable posture. The day was just not going in your favour. You huffed and went back inside the building, huffing on seeing everyone gone, leaving the crew there, of course. You looked around for that woman, standing on your tippy toes to get a good look at the far end of the hall.

"Stop snooping around and get ready to pay the fine." You flinched, turning around to see the manager looking at you with an angry expression. But, did you hear her right?

Fine? When did that happen?

"What do you mean?" You asked, earning a shake of her head. Her eyes showed you just how disappointed she was and you wondered if she thought you actually cared. Because you certainly didn't. "You went around breaking rules so here's the consequence. Pay the fine and take your phone back." Your jaw went slack. Was this really happening? Maybe you should have just agreed to go on that stupid da-

NO! Absolutely not.

"Look, I don't have a lot of money on me, okay? So how about you give me the phone and I'll pay the amount some other time?" You suggested, mustering up your sweetest smile. Her eyes narrowed at you, staring you down like you were a piece of meat. She let out a sigh and took a step back.

"₩200,000 or you're not getting it back." Before you could protest, she was rushing back towards the other crew members, clearing up the equipment. You wracked your brain for things that you could do. Going home and getting the money was definitely an option but it was getting too late to be travelling back and forth. Leaving the phone here and just getting a new one was absolutely not acceptable. Coming back tomorrow, yeah maybe you could do that but you weren't sure you'd be allowed inside the company's building.

You sighed, squatting down due to the ache in your feet. You had been standing for too long and you were on the verge of crying. Why was this even happening to you? You should have really agreed to go out with-

"Instead of running away, you should have just listened to me." Your thoughts, exactly. You ended up falling on your butt with a yelp upon seeing Taehyung standing in front of you, his outfit no more a bubblegum pink. You blinked at him, watching as he stretched his hand out to help you stand up. Everyone else was busy with something or the other, your little interaction with an idol going unnoticed. You placed your hand in his, letting him pull you up as you dusted off the dirt from the back of your jeans. Not like there was any.

"I heard everything, you know." Taehyung gestured towards his manager, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. You sighed, rolling your eyes and placing your hand on your hips. You could tell he was here to throw this in your face. Who would miss this opportunity?

"Go on, tell me how I should have just accepted your offer." You snapped, Taehyung's teeth digging into his bottom lip. He narrowed his eyes, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Can't say that, the offer's pretty much still available." He shrugged, his hands resting inside his pockets. Your ears perked up at that. Still available?

If you were being serious, there wasn't much harm in going out with him other than the fact that this was absurd. As far as you knew, you hadn't heard of any of the members asking a fan out. This was probably a first.

"Why do you want to go out with me so bad?" You retorted, firing him with questions because you needed to be sure about this. Mainly, your priority was the phone but okay. A handsome guy was coming along so why not, right? Wrong.

Taehyung tsked and bent down to your level, his eyes looking right into yours with what you assumed was affection. Now that was just crazy. Your heart again picked up it's pace, your eyes looking down at the floor because he was just too intimidating. "You are one interesting person. And I want to deal with every single one of your moods to show you that I may or may not be fond of you already. So let me take you out."

You gaped at him, eyes slightly wider than usual. No one had ever said anything like that to you. This was too nice for your heart to handle. You noticed how perfect his face was. No wonder, millions of people loved him so much. "Fine. I'll go out with you." You mumbled, your voice smaller and much more delicate. Your strong facade was all gone, vanished into thin air.

Taehyung grinned, mumbling a 'yes' in accomplishment. You ended up smiling, your eyes crinkling at the edges and Taehyung had to stop himself from hugging you. It was a beautiful thing. Your smile. He realised this was the first time he had seen you smile since he saw you. He wanted to give you more reasons now that you were ready to go on a date with him. Taehyung was ecstatic. His first date with a girl who was definitely gonna make him chase her. Just like he had wished.

Taehyung pulled out your phone from his back pocket and held it out to you, wincing when you gasped out of shock. The fine thing was a lie that he had coaxed his manager into saying.

"You had my phone all this time?" You exasperated, throwing your hands up. Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. You yanked your phone out from his hand and walked away, your angry pout faltering on hearing him groan behind you.

"I hope you know you can't go back on your words now!" He yelled, making you shake your head. You had to suppress the smile that was threatening to take over. "You should have thought about that before!" You answered, leaving the building and peeking over your shoulder to see him crouching on the floor with his head in his hands.

"Why so cute?" You mumbled, your feet dragging you back to the bus stop and into your house.

Finally, you took a long shower and got into bed, unable to stop yourself from smiling. Everything was super bad but you thought it was worth it. You realised that an idol wanted the same things as any normal person. They wanted to travel, they wanted to fall in love, they wanted to have a family, they wanted to settle down and they just wanted to live. You felt honoured that Taehyung wanted to go out with you but in your eyes, he wasn't an idol. He was just a boy who lied so that he could get you to go out with him. And that was good.

Your phone dinged, your fingers immediately taking hold of it from the nightstand. It was a text, that too from an unknown number.

Unknown: Tell me, what do girls expect on the first date?

You chuckled, figuring out that this was indeed Taehyung. You saved his number before going back to reply to his question. That started a chain of replies throughout the night, you and Taehyung texting back and forth continuously. Things were bubbling in your chest but you had to soothe it down. Too soon to say you were a goner. Taehyung on the other hand, was pretty sure he likes you. He was more than excited to see you again. Of course, he had to listen to his hyungs warn him about all this but he didn't care. If the media was gonna find out then let it happen. He just wanted one day to do whatever he wanted to do. It was his life and he didn't want to think that he gave away every bit of privacy he deserved. It was gonna be you and him for a day. And he was determined to see you smiling the entire time. He wanted you to tell him that you wanted to see him again. Because he knew he was gonna say that to you for sure.

Personally, I think I didn't do a very good job with this one. Darling, I'm sorry if you don't like it but I didn't want to keep you waiting anymore!

-XX

#bts #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts request #kpop #bts v #smileyoongle #bts one shot #bts taehyung #taehyung×reader #kim taehyung #idol bts #idol V #idol Taehyung #bts fluff #bts kim taehyung #i haven't written an idol one shot in so long #sfw bts imagine

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crimsoncobaltblue · 5 years

Text

Joint Custody - Huebby (Alternate Meeting AU)

(Oof this is late but this is for Art! I hope you had a happy birthday @artproductionsofficial ! You had written a lil Huebby fic on Discord and that was kinda my inspiration for this. I hope ya like it! :3 Oh and this fic is kind of like Alternate Meeting AU I guess. Tbh I just randomly thought of this at like 1 am xD)

————————

Huey strolled up to the library, a stack of books in his arms.

He strained to see over the stack of books he had to return but, by some miracle, he made it to the book return box outside the building.

Huey sighed, relieved to have gotten rid of the heavy load finally. “Thanks for all the help, you guys.” Huey turned toward his brothers, sarcasm pouring from his voice.

“No problem.” Louie responded nonchalantly, smiling absently at his phone.

Dewey was simply just staring at the library, a look of confusion on his face. Huey guessed that Dewey never knew there was a library here.

“Do we have to go inside?” Dewey asked as he gazed longingly at the park a block away from here.

Huey sighed. It would be easier to look out for his brothers if they were all together in the same place. Besides it would keep Uncle Donald from scolding him. However, Huey noticed Dewey was literally bouncing on his heels, ready to run toward the park that he was still staring at.

Huey decided it would be better for them to split up. Huey would get in more trouble if he let Dewey run around a library instead of just letting him go to the park.

“No, Dewey, you can go to the park. Louie has to go with you though.” Huey said, with a nod, as if he were agreeing with himself.

“Aw, man! I wanted to sit in the nice air-conditioned library instead! Come on Huey!” Louie complained.

Huey shook his head. “I’ll just run inside and get the book I came for, then I’ll meet you in the park.” Huey said before he added, “That way we’ll all suffer together. Just as all families should.”

Dewey chuckled a little. “I don’t know what you guys are meaning, it’d be so boring in there! That would be where we’d truly suffer.” Dewey claimed.

Huey and Louie looked at each other with matching faces that read “Is he serious?”

Huey held in a sigh. “Alright, I’ll see you over there in a bit.” Huey turned away and started up the stairs.

“Hey, Louie,” Dewey asked and Louie glances up from his phone. “Wanna race?” Dewey asked.

“No.”

“Alright! Ready, set,” Dewey paused in his starting, looking at Louie expectantly.

Louie rolled his eyes, seemingly deciding to humor him. “Go!” He said loudly and Dewey took off. Louie shook his head, obviously smiling a bit at his brother’s ridiculous actions.

Huey smiled at that interaction. ‘I’m glad I stopped long enough to see that, those two seriously don’t interact enough,’ he thought as he turned and jogged up the rest of the stairs, past the big stone lions, and through the large wooden doors.

Huey breathed in deeply as he stepped inside. There was always something so great about the smell of libraries and bookstores. Something comforting.

Huey strode past the check-out desk and into the labyrinth of book shelves, like how Theseus did in search of the Minotaur. Only less dangerous and with books instead of whatever the labyrinth was made of.

Huey reminded himself he’d probably have to reread that myth since he couldn’t remember what the labyrinth was made of. Honestly he was slipping.

He paused as he finally found the biography section. ‘Another day, Theseus,’ he thought as he started looking for a specific biography. ‘I’ve got a different hero to read about this time.’

—————

Huey focused his thoughts on looking for the right biography: The Complete Life of Scrooge McDuck.

He had read many of Scrooge McDuck’s biographies but reading this book would help fill in some blanks made from skipping over some of his biographies since the library didn’t always have them all. He shook his head to clear away the thoughts. He hated that he skipped some of those books.

Huey gasped a little and smiled, seeing the enormous book right there in front of him. It had to be seven hundred pages at least! It was glorious! Huey reached for the book only to find someone else’s hand already there.

He turned to his right and saw a girl. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed her.

“How long have you been here?” He asked her.

She looked confused. “Um. I’ve been in this aisle longer than you have?” She answered hesitantly as she pointed to a mini throne made of books just a short ways down the aisle.

“Oh.” Huey said, looking her over. She was around his age and height. She had short hair with a pink bow in it. And her hair looked kind of ruffled, like she had been here and fallen asleep.

“Sorry.” He said, remembering his manners. “I’m Huey.” He held out his hand for her to shake.

“Hi, I’m Webby!” She said loudly and Huey retracted his hand and shushed her.

“Sorry!” She whisper-yelled and Huey made sure no one seemed disturbed. Thankfully no one was. He turned back to her kicking her foot at the hardwood floors sheepishly.

Huey blushed, suddenly realizing that this girl was actually kind of cute.

He shook his head. He couldn’t be thinking that way, otherwise he’d walk out of this library and his brother would see him blushing and tease him endlessly. He really didn’t feel like being teased right now.

“Anyways,” Huey said with a cough. “I’ll just take my book here and leave to your book throne over there... Your Highness?” Huey tried to be funny but it came off as weird. Huey wished he could slap himself.

The girl, Webby, thankfully laughed a little bit though. Huey smiled back, praying his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “No, I’m afraid you can’t leave with that book.” Webby said, still laughing.

Huey raised an eyebrow at her. “And why not?”

Webby pulled herself together and hefted the book into her arms from the shelf. “Because, I put my hand on it first. And I’ve been waiting here to read this book for my research.”

Huey gave her a questioning look. She had obviously fallen asleep in that book throne, and took the time to build a book throne so he doubted she was taking her “research” seriously.

“Well I’m sorry to hear that Webby, but I’ve been waiting for weeks to come and get that book.”

They both glared at each other for a minute. Huey despised the fact that he had thought she was cute earlier.

“There isn’t a second copy, is there?” Huey asked.

They both looked at the bookshelf and saw none even close to the size of the book Webby held.

“Why don’t we ask the librarian?” Huey suggested.

Webby thought for a moment before nodding. “Fine, I’ll have to persuade the librarian to become my ally in this fight.” She said seriously.

“Yeah, alright,” He said absentmindedly, already trying to make a case for himself.

———————

“Sorry,” the librarian, Janice, said as her intimidating assistant set the book on the counter. Jerry, her assistant was an enomorous bear and even he gave a noise at picking up the book.

Huey held up one hand. “Um, ‘sorry that there isn’t a second copy’ or ‘sorry, you’re afraid Webby here can’t have this book’?” He questioned.

Webby piped up. “Excuse me, I think it’s probably going to be ‘sorry, you’re afraid Huebert here can’t have this book but I totally can.’” Webby said while sending Huey a glare.

Huey looked at her surprised. “How did you know my name is Huebert?” He hadn’t told her his real name, and it wasn’t a common name either.

She looked at him like he was crazy before the librarian cleared her throat and that prevented Webby’s explaination.

“Sorry to all three of your guesses. We don’t have a second copy available and neither of you are allowed to take it home.”

“WHAT??” They both yelled, only to be immediately shushed by basically the entire library.

“Why not?” They both asked at the same time. Huey tried to pretend it wasn’t too weird.

Janice looked bored. “Huey, you have too many books checked out-“

“I put them in the return box today!” He interrupted.

“They aren’t technically checked back in until they’ve been brought inside from the book box.”

Huey felt an embarrassed blush rise up as Webby snickered.

“And you Webbigail,” Janice turned her ruthless words toward the girl duckling. “have a horrible habit of losing books and since this is our only copy, I can’t let you check it out.”

Huey started to chuckle at seeing Webby blush a bit.

“I told you, Janice! That manticore really did steal all those books-“ Webby started but Janice cut her off.

“I’ve heard your stories before, Webbigail. Now,” Janice settled into her seat. “You two are free to read the book here, I’ll even put it on hold so that way you two can come back tomorrow and finish it without anyone else checking it out. Find a way to share. Off you go now.” Janice turned away from them as her silent assistant Jerry the bear handed Huey the book.

Webby stormed toward the tables and chairs but not before calling back, “Why couldn’t you help a fellow book worm out?”

Janice the book worm didn’t look at her. “I would be insulted that you called yourself a book worm if I actually cared. Sorry.” Janice replied, adjusting her glasses with the end of her body.

Webby deflated with a sigh.

Huey was secretly impressed with Webby though. Janice had kind of intimidated him with her words but Webby’s yelling at her made him want to laugh in triumph.

“Let’s find a table to read at.” Huey said, heading toward a small table.

“Alright.” She said giving in. Huey sat down and Webby took the seat right next to him so they could read it. “Why do you even want to read this book anyways?” Webby asked.

Huey paused, trying to think of the best way to word this. “Scrooge McDuck is kind of my hero, I guess. He’s like a modern day version of those old Greek heroes only he never dies or gets tricked. He always thinks his way out of a situation and I admire that I suppose.” Huey explained, feeling a blush creep up on him again.

Webby smiled and nodded, obviously struggling to hold back her excitement. “That’s cool! Scrooge McDuck is my hero too! The way he can fight and all the adventures he’s gone on! ALL THE COOL MYTHICAL ANIMALS!!” She yelled and Huey shushed her again, smiling bashfully at passers by.

“Sorry!” She whisper yelled again.

“You really should work on your inside voice.” Huey said. Normally, he would be annoyed with that kind of thing, but with her, it was just plain endearing.

“What’s an inside voice?” She asked, tilting her head in an adorable way. Huey laughed a little bit.

‘Gosh what am I thinking? Endearing? Adorable? Really? Since when did you start crushing on this girl?’ Huey scolded himself.

‘Since the moment you met her. Duh.’ Huey’s mind whispered back and he rolled his eyes a bit.

‘Shut up brain.’ He retorted before realizing he was absolutely insane for arguing with his mind.

“No, seriously,” Webby’s voice brought him back to reality. “What’s an inside voice?” She looked very confused but Huey only shook his head.

“Never mind about that, let’s get to reading.”

Webby still seemed very confused but she simply shrugged and turned her full smile on the cover of the book, clearly excited to get to read it.

Huey understood that feeling, and he struggled not to smile at her awed gazed at the book.

——————

“Wait! Wait! Don’t turn the page yet!” Webby said loudly. Huey would’ve hushed her again but after an hour of reading with her, he gave up on trying to get her to quiet down. At least now the other people here had learned to just ignore her.

“I’ve been reading as slowly as I can, Webby. Why do you read so slow?” He asked.

“Because I have to absorb all this information for my research.” She replied, sounding very proud of her so called research.

Huey still had his doubts about how seriously she took her research.

“And just what are you researching?” Huey questioned and Webby’s eyes gleamed with excitement. Huey sighed, immediately realizing he may have just made a mistake.

“I’m researching the entire McDuck family.” She said in hushed tones.

This made Huey pay attention. This was the first time she managed to keep her voice down low.

“I mean, Scrooge McDuck is great for sure! And he’s my hero! But the rest of his family can be just as interesting once you start looking.” She explained in a mysterious way that made Huey want to start his own research.

“You’re joking right?” Huey said, trying to curb his hopes. He doubted Scrooge McDuck’s family is as interesting as she says.

“No way.” She looked serious as she spoke. She paused, thinking for a minute. “You see how big this book is?” She asked and Huey nodded, intrigued as to where she was going with this.

“This would probably be the size of the first volume in a set on all the incredible, interesting, mysteriously magical things the entire McDuck clan has done.”

Huey felt his heart leap at the thought of that many amazing stories. Scrooge had several biographies out about his adventures but there were none on his relatives. Huey hadn’t really cared to know about Scrooge McDuck’s relatives. Until now that is.

“Really?” He asked awestruck. Webby nodded, a huge grin plastered on her face.

“Really.” She said as she turned to the next page, her hand brushing his and Huey felt the red return to his face.

“Huey?” Louie said, standing a few feet away from the table.

“Louie!” Huey yelled and was immediately hushed by everyone, including Webby.

“What are you doing here?” Huey asked, his hands on the table as he stood from his chair.

Louie glared at his brother. “I had to use the bathroom and you’ve been in here for like three hours. Even Dewey was starting to get bored at the park.”

Huey winced, feeling bad that he forgot to meet them. “Sorry, Louie. I couldn’t check out the book so I started reading it here and lost track of time I guess.”

“Hi, I’m Webby by the way!” Webby introduces herself to Louie, walking up and shaking his hand.

Louie straightened up a little. “Good to meet ya.” He said politely before turning to Huey again. “We gotta go Huey. Uncle Donald is going to kill us.” Louie said and Webby gasped, but Huey ignored it.

“No he won’t. I’ll take care of it.” Huey sighed and Louie nodded.

“Alright, I’ll wait outside for ya,” Louie said before leaning in close to Huey and mumbling, “But try not to take too long with her this time, alright dude?” Louie said with a small evil grin.

Huey’s face went as red at his shirt. “Shut. Up. Go on outside.” He retorted back quietly and Louie laughed.

“As you wish, Huebert!” He teased before striding toward the door.

“Huey, are you alright? Your face is red.” Webby asked, making Huey’s face redder. She gasped. “OH NO! Do you have heat stroke?!?” She exclaimed and Huey shushed her for the billionth time. He was starting to get used to doing that.

“No I-I am fine. Perfectly fine. Good.” He stumbled over his words and Webby didn’t seem to believe him but she shrugged.

“Okay then.” She settled it. “Well, I’ll see you later Huey! Don��t forget we have to finish this book together!” She said with a smile and Huey couldn’t help but grin back.

Her happiness was pretty contagious, what could he say?

“I won’t, I promise. But I might be grounded forever if I don’t leave right now.” Huey said jokingly but Webby gasped seriously.

“Then get home Huey! OH WAIT!” She yelled before quickly finding a pen and a piece of paper. She scribbled something down.

“This is my address. I don’t have a phone so this is the next best thing.” She handed him the piece of paper with a smile. She seemed to smile a lot.

Not that Huey minded, of course.

“Thanks Webby, I’ll be in touch. Bye!” He said, feeling anxious to get home and try and talk Uncle Donald out of grounding him.

“Bye!” He heard her yell, only to be shushed again.

“Sorry!” He heard her say right before he pushed through the doors and out onto the sidewalk where he saw his brothers.

Both looked sweaty from being out in the sun for a few hours. Dewey looked the most bedraggled. He seriously looked like a hobo.

Louie looked like a guy that was very close to becoming a hobo.

Huey still smiled at them. They were his brothers, he couldn’t help it. They got on his absolute last nerve at times but he still loved them. Plus he was in a good mood now.

“There’s the lover boy! Making goo goo eyes at that Webby girl in there!” Dewey said, before turning around, hugging himself, and moving his hands up and down his back obnoxiously.

“Shut up Dewey! And Louie! You told him?” Huey demanded, embarrassed but not surprised.

“Naturally. Of course he beat it out of me. I came out of the library laughing so much that Dewey apparently couldn’t stand not knowing.” Louie explained with a smirk and Huey grumbled.

“Aw it’s alright Huey,” Dewey said with a grin. “If you’re feeling upset you can always talk to Webby about it.” Dewey made more obnoxious kissing noises.

Huey rolled his eyes and sighed, annoyed by their teasing. But at the same time, he didn’t mind it as much. Webby’s adorably goofy grin flashed in his mind.

“Look at that smile, Dewey,” Louie pointed at Huey while laughing so much he was basically wheezing. “He’s thinking about her! Oh, Huebert has it bad now!” Dewey started laughing along with Louie and Huey huffed.

“Alright you two idiots, you keep this up and I’ll just let Uncle Donald punish you how he seems fit.” Huey threatened and they quickly started pulling themselves together.

“Alright, alright, sorry Huey, we’re good. For now.” Louie said as Dewey was still trying to stop his chuckles.

Huey glanced at the address Webby had given him. Something about that address seemed really familiar.

Huey looked back up at his brothers and started walking. “Alright, let’s get home before Uncle Donald comes and finds us.” Huey said and he heard his brothers fall in behind him.

Huey pulled out his phone from his pocket and quickly typed in the address.

Huey held in the biggest gasp he had ever felt as the McDuck Mansion popped up as the address location.

Huey refreshes the page about thirty times and nothing changed. He triple checked that he had spelled it right. It was.

‘If this thing is right,’ Huey thought seriously. ‘Then apparently the McDuck family isn’t the only one with mysterious secrets.’

Huey put his phone and the paper into his pocket and smiled a little bit as his mind started to plan on he’d try to research on his own. Who knows? Maybe it might impress her if he managed to find out just who she is.

Huey glanced back at the library and he swore he saw a glimpse of a pink bow going down the steps.

He looked forward, completely ignoring the teasing of his brothers behind him.

He had at least one good mystery to solve now, and it mainly focused on a duck named Webby.

———————

(Ok so wow I didn’t expect this to end up the way it did but I actually kinda like it? I might continue this maybe XD Who knows? I certainly don’t but yeah, this is for Art! Happy late birthday Art!! Sorry I couldn’t get this to ya yesterday, let’s just say some incidents occurred lol x3 Hope you enjoy! Love ya my dude :P)

#huebby #huey #webby #ducktales #huey x webby #huey dewey and louie #library #books #huey duck #webby vanderquack #alternate meeting au #oof #my writing #HAPPY BIRTHDAY ART!!#:3

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littlelovelyspiderling · 6 years

Text

Cranky Cassie

Peter is upset about a bad test grade. Tony hosts an Avengers movie night to try to cheer him up. It does not go as planned.

I combined the prompts suggested by @kallani-ex-machina and @wigglingpandaboi into one story because I’m lazy! enjoy!

word count: 2,764

Peter Parker was a failure.

At least, that’s how he saw it. Stark couldn’t remember a time the kid looked more dejected than he did today. The day Brooklyn 99 was cancelled came in a close second, but that disaster was resolved in a matter of hours.

Peter had done really bad on a test. Something to do with ancient Roman history. He’d forgotten it was today, and hadn’t studied at all beforehand. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. That was the gist Tony had gathered before the kid stomped off in silence, isolating himself to the table in the corner behind a mound of books and papers. Stark assumed maintaining your schoolwork was hard when you were also trying to carry all of New York City on your shoulders.

Two hours later, and the kid still hadn’t budged. When Tony inquired what he was up to, Peter sighed without lifting his gaze.

“Extra credit assignment. It won’t save my massacred GPA, but I guess it’s better than nothing.”

“You know you don’t have to do this all tonight, kid. It’s Friday.”

Peter simply shrugged and kept working. Stark was certain he was punishing himself. The kid was his own worst critic.

“One bad grade isn’t gonna tank your whole high school career, Pete. I promise you. You’re a brilliant kid. You’ll do great on the next one, and everything will turn out fine. All right?”

Peter seemed to be tuning him out. His whole body was tense with concentration. Tony frowned, feeling unfit to deal with this sort of thing, and laid his hand on his shoulder.

“You want to take a quick break?” he asked. Peter shook his head. Stark let a breath ease from his lungs, then patted his back defeatedly. “Well, let me know if you need anything, okay? I got juice boxes, whipped cream, coffee, vodka—all the goodies. You know, brain food.”

The kid didn’t even crack a smile at his corny attempt at humor. Even on his grumpiest days, which were few and far between, Peter would at least acknowledge Stark’s attempts to cheer him up. But today, nothing. This was a whole new side of Peter that Tony had never encountered before. If he was going to succeed in lifting the kid’s spirits at all, he was going to need some help.

So with a few short texts to the Avengers group chat and a couple of phone calls to those less responsive, Tony got a solid chunk of the team to agree to come over and try brightening Spidey’s mood under the guise of partaking in a casual team-bonding movie night. If there was one thing all the Avengers could agree on, it was their mutual fondness of Peter Parker, regardless of who chose to admit it out loud. Plus, it had been a while since a good number of them had gotten together for something besides the end of the world.

Around six o’clock, people started arriving, popcorn, candy, and fuzzy pajama pants at the ready. The total headcount was Rhodey, Sam, Cap, Scott, Natasha, Clint, Barnes, and Thor. Stark had to admit, he was a little impressed. Peter looked up with a frown as more and more bodies filled the room. They began sandwiching together on the couch, some having to pull up chairs from the bar or nest in pillows on the floor.

“Movie night, kiddo,” Stark said, popping up behind him and ruffling his hair. “Wanna join? It’s a good one: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”

Peter stared at the group longingly but shook his head. “No thanks. I want to finish this tonight so I can start studying for next week’s quiz tomorrow.” He stuffed all his textbooks and notes back into his bag. “I think I’ll just go home.”

Tony’s heart cracked in his chest. He placed his hands on both of the kid’s shoulders as he tried to step around him. “Peter, hey,” he said. “Wait a minute.” The teen trudged to a stop and gazed up at him with tired, miserable eyes. Stark shook his head. “I get it. This test grade’s got you spiraling a little. You’ve set yourself on fixing it, and you will.” He turned him towards the couch across the room. “But look. We’re all here right now, and we want you to watch this movie with us. So why don’t you just relax for tonight, blow off a little steam, and you can pick up where you left off tomorrow with a fresh and happy head on your shoulders?”

The group of heroes piled on the couch, catching the signal, hollered and waved him forward. “Come on, Spidey!” Sam called. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud!” Peter hesitated, glancing between the jubilant faces, reeling through all of the things he needed to work on, but eventually caved to the peer pressure.

“Okay, I guess,” he murmured. He pasted on a smile as the Avengers cheered with outlandish enthusiasm, directing him to the space they’d reserved at the end of the couch. But as soon as the lights were off, and all eyes switched from him to the screen, the smile faded.

Ferris started rattling off his snappy signature jokes—the ones that normally left Peter in stitches. Tony shot quick glances in his direction to see if they were having any effect. While the rest of the team cackled and slapped their knees, the kid just sat with his head resting against his fist. He had a blank expression on his face and a glazed look in his eye. He hinted a smile when Thor elbowed him in the arm, snorting with hearty laughter, but that was it. The happy-go-lucky Peter they all knew and loved was gone, replaced instead by some sad, dead clone. Stark almost felt guilty for making him stay.

He worried he was the only one who’d picked up on the fact that their plan was failing. Halfway through the film, and still sans even one tiny giggle, Tony considered offering to drive Peter home. Then, out of nowhere, the movie paused. Everyone turned in surprise to see Scott holding the remote.

“Hey, what gives?” Clint whined.

“Sorry, guys,” Lang said, rising to his feet and holding his hands in the air. “I promise I’m not trying to ruin the movie. I just noticed we have a Cranky Cassie in our midst.”

All eyes immediately veered towards Spider-Man, who shrunk beneath the sudden onslaught of attention. He stared up at Scott.

“Huh? A what?”

“A Cranky Cassie,” he repeated. “I suppose, in your case, a Pouty Peter.”

A few of the Avengers chuckled. Peter grimaced and crossed his arms, burying himself into the corner of the couch.

“Oh.”

“It’s okay,” Lang assured him. “We all have our Cranky Cassie moments. A little crankiness is good for you, but too much for too long tends to turn you sour.”

“I’m fine,” Peter said, reddening a little. “Really. Just turn the movie back on.”

Scott shook his head. “Nope. No one is going to enjoy the movie until you start enjoying the movie. And no one can enjoy a movie as a Cranky Cassie.” He tossed the remote to Tony, who caught it in a startled jumble, then cracked his knuckles. “Fortunately, after years of research and analysis, I’ve discovered the one sure-fire cure to this devastating ailment.”

Scott approached him, and Peter’s confusion switched to nervousness. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't two hands seizing him around the middle and squeezing his belly and sides. Peter squealed involuntarily and grappled at Scott’s arms.

“Whaha! H-hey! Mr. Lahang! W-what are you—ehehaha!”

With the element of surprise on his side, Scott was able to tickle the majority of his midsection while Peter flailed hysterically in attempt to stop him. Everyone watched with disbelief and amusement as Ant-Man shattered the kid’s walls and drew squeaky laughter from his lips with nothing but a few well-placed pokes to his stomach. On a lucky blind grab, Peter managed to catch both of Lang’s hands, panting sharply and biting back giggles.

“Quihit it! This isn’t helping!”

“Oh, I see. We’ve got a particularly stubborn case of Cranky Cassie on our hands. I think it’ll take the whole team to work this one out of his system.” He lifted his gaze to the others, grinning smugly. “What say you, ladies and gents? Shall we commence the operation?”

When Peter looked up and realized everyone was looming towards him, flexing their fingers with evil smirks, his eyes went wide. Uh-uh. No way. He scrambled to break free like his life depended on it, but Lang slowed him down just long enough that two massive hands could catch his wrists and pin him to the couch. Thor grinned at the startled hero, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Do not take this personally, young one. It is for your own good.”

Peter shook his head, nervous laughter punctuating his words. “No it’s nohot! You know it’s not! Let me gohoho!” He kicked with all his might, but Cap wrangled his legs with his super-soldier strength and sat on them to keep him still. Having his arms pinned was bad; this was worse. He was completely immobile. It took mere moments for the pair to overpower him. Spider-Man was strong, but he was no match for the beefy blonde tag team. He squirmed and wrenched like fly in a web, knowing it was hopeless. Peter was trapped.

And seven other people were towering over him, armed with fourteen hands and seventy fingers. All of which were about to pounce on his defenseless little body.

“W-wahahait!” he cried. “This is so unfair! Oh my gahahad, this is so unfair! There’s nine of you and only one of me!” He searched through the sea of wicked faces in hope of one friendly one. “Mr. Stark, help! Tell them to let me go!”

Peter’s judge of character was very poor. Instead of doing what he asked, Tony stepped forward and immediately began scuttling his fingers all over his torso. Peter jolted and screeched, laughing like crazy.

“Sorry, kid,” Stark chuckled, “but you’ve been kind of a sour puss lately. I think you need this.” Starting at his hips, he kneaded his thumbs all the way up the kid’s sides, making him giggle and flinch helplessly. He switched to clawing at his belly with all ten fingers, which incited an even stronger, gigglier reaction. Tony had no idea Peter was so ticklish. Every tiny touch made him jump and shriek. It was kind of adorable.

“Stohohahap! Oh my gahahad! Plehehehease!” Peter had hoped he could hold out longer than two seconds before crumbling into a mess of squeaky laughter. Apparently not. He could feel the eyes of every Avenger looking down at his ridiculously giggly self, watching him fall to pieces beneath Tony’s tickly fingers, and his face started burning red. “All rihihight! I’m—I’m cured, okay? I’m fihihihixed! I dohon’t need any m-mohore—ahahaha shihihit!”

Someone had started tickling his feet through his socks, and from what he could tell, they had very long nails. “Oh, I think you do,” a female voice said, unmistakably Natasha Romanoff’s. “This is one of the worst cases of Cranky Cassie I’ve ever seen.”

She pulled off his left sock, grabbed hold of his foot, and began tracing his arch with a single finger. It was a softer kind of tickling, but no less unbearable. His laughter climbed when the rest of her nails joined in, skittering across his defenseless sole, stroking both sides of his foot, and digging between his toes. She knew exactly how to make him squirm. Apparently, so did Rhodey, who seized his right ankle, ripped off that sock, and started scribbling over every inch of that foot. Peter bucked and squealed, laughter pouring from him while his feet twitched helplessly.

“Nohohohahaha! Nohohot fahahahair!” He didn’t know laughing this hard was even possible. He didn’t know tickling could be so mean. Tony took his hands off his tummy for a moment, which Peter read as mercy. Again, he was wrong. He was just moving to let someone else take a turn at torturing him. Spider-Man shrieked when something ice cold slipped under his shirt and raked across his bare stomach.

“AHA! Holy crahahap, w-what ihihis that? it’s freeheeheezing!” He glanced down and realized it was Bucky’s metal hand, scratching and tickling his belly. The fact that is was cold made it so much worse, and the feeling of it kneading directly into his skin drove him insane. It was like being tickled by five wiggly ice cubes. He fought as hard as he could to squirm out of his reach. He did not succeed.

“Give it to me straight, doc,” Sam said over the kid’s laughter, feigning concern. “Is he gonna make it?”

Scott shrugged and puffed out his cheeks. “I’m not sure. The disease just won’t seem to budge.” He grabbed his shoulder firmly. “But keep faith, my friend. The treatment seems to be working, and I think we’re on the brink of a breakthrough.”

“Has anyone tried this yet?” Clint asked. Before Peter could even prepare himself, two hands started clawing at his underarms, burrowing into the hollows of eat pit. The whole time he’d been pinned to the couch, Spider-Man had been praying to the highest heavens no one would go for that spot, that they’d tickle him literally anywhere but there. The moment Clint’s fingers met the sensitive skin, Peter lost it.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA! NONONONOHOHOHOHO!” His hysterical reaction only affirmed the fact that Barton had struck gold, and he drilled his fingers into his underarms with merciless intensity. Well, guess I’ll die, he thought. Just the armpit tickling was enough to end him, but the the addition of six other hands attacking three more of his most ticklish spots all at the same time was insufferable. He whipped his head back and forth, pulled helplessly against Thor’s unbreakable grip, and arched his spine against the couch, all while laughing his ass off.

“I guess that’s a no,” Sam chuckled.

“I think he’s going to explode,” Cap said, experimentally squeezing the kid’s knees. Peter’s entire body was pink, and his giggling was high-pitched and endless, interrupted only by squeaky hiccups.

“I’d say he’s cured,” Tony proclaimed. “No Cranky Cassie could make that sound.” He turned to Ant-Man with a grin. “Do you concur, doctor?”

“I do,” Scott said, stony and serious. “It’s a damn miracle.”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” Peter begged. “STAHAHAHARK! CAHAHAHAHAHAP! SOHOHOMEBOHOHOHODY! HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHELP!”

Then, just like that, everyone stopped tickling him all at once. Thor released his arms, and Steve climbed off his legs. The relief hit him like a truck. He lied still, dazed with disbelief, then rolled on to his side, wheezing and giggling and loopy with laughter. His cheeks hurt and his sides ached. His skin felt tingly.

“Eheh…heheh…oho my…my gosh…” The Avengers stared at kid with amusement and affection. “Y-you’re all so…so mean…heheh…”

“Congratulations, Peter,” Scott cheered, unpausing the TV. “You are officially no longer a Cranky Cassie. You may now enjoy the movie.”

Spider-Man simply groaned in response. Thor sat beside him.

“And if you don’t,” he warned, pinching Peter’s side and making him squeal, “there will be consequences.”

He jerked away and hugged himself around the middle. “Okay!” he giggled. “I get it! I’ll enjoy it! Promise!”

“Good,” Natasha said. She threw him a bag of gummy worms. “Let’s rot.”

At first, Peter tried to play the part, giggling at every little joke or moment for effect. It took him about two minutes to realize that wasn’t necessary. Maybe it was because his stomach still felt full of fluttery, giggly butterflies, but the movie suddenly seemed ten times funnier than the last time he’d watched it. Without meaning to, he started laughing at all the one-liners, sometimes doubling over himself and choking on his soda. Everyone else was no exception. The room was filled with constant giggling. Tony kept slapping his leg and snorting behind his hand. He felt warm, sandwiched between all these cackling heroes who cared for him, even though they had a weird way of showing it. As he soaked in the joyful atmosphere, the bad grade didn’t seem to mean much anymore. Yes, it was a harsh blow to the goals he’d set for himself. That didn’t mean it defined him. But these people and their smiles and the moments they all shared together? Yeah, those did.

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riga789 · 6 years

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Complicated Mating Rituals

Work on chapter 8 of Won't You Dance With Me is in progress. Meanwhile, here's something else that's been sitting in my WIP folder for a while that should probably see the light of day.

Summary: Zay has been watching the pining and angst-filled drama between Maya and Lucas play out for three years. And though he’s generally a sucker for slow-burn romances, he has to admit it’s infinitely more frustrating in real life than it is in books or TV shows or movies.

In which Zay is sick of watching Lucas and Maya dance around each other, and wants to do something about it. But Smackle counsels patience and non-interference.

Meanwhile, there's one love life he didn't foresee popping into existence: his own.

Read on ao3 | ff.net

It’s the summer before junior year, and Maya, Lucas, Zay, Smackle, and Farkle are spending the last couple of weeks of their holidays at Farkle’s parents’ beach house in the Hamptons. Riley and the entire Matthews clan are vacationing in Maui, and Mr. and Mrs. Minkus are in Europe. So it’s just the five of them in the huge oceanfront mansion that has more than ten bedrooms, breathtaking views from every window, balcony, and porch, and a private beach.

In the week that they’ve been here, they have taken full advantage of the house and its amenities. They’ve devoted most of their days to the beach, lazing on deck chairs under big blue and white striped umbrellas or swimming in the sea, returning to the house for big, wholesome lunches made by the housekeeper-cook, Mrs. Grady (whose husband is the butler. The Gradys are the live-in caretakers at the beach house, and their chaperones for the duration of this vacation.).

The five of them have played video games, pool (where Maya kicked everyone’s collective butts), binge-watched TV shows and marathoned movies, tried their hand at tennis, relaxed by the swimming pool, and gone for midnight walks on the beach. Smackle has spent nearly all her non-group time in the library, Maya is on a mission to draw, sketch, paint, and photograph every view from the house, and Lucas, Zay and Farkle are halfway through a prolonged game of CoD involving a zombie invasion.

It’s exactly what they need: a nice, relaxing, uneventful holiday before the madness of school, classes, and extracurricular activities takes over their lives again for the rest of the year.

At least, it should have been a nice, relaxing, uneventful holiday. So far, for Zay, it’s been anything but. And it’s all thanks to his two best friends, Maya and Lucas.

Zay is usually pretty patient when it comes to his friends. He’s content to sit back and watch the shenanigans ensue, the drama unfold — and there’s no dearth of either with his group, especially when Riley is around. It actually makes for quality entertainment.

But he has been watching this pining and angst-filled drama between Maya and Lucas play out for three years. And though he’s generally a sucker for slow-burn romances, he has to admit it’s infinitely more frustrating in real life than it is in books or TV shows or movies.

So Zay is fed up. He can’t take it anymore. He’s reached the end of his tether. It makes him want to tear his hair out.

“You have mentioned that,” Isadora says, not looking up from the brick-thick book in her lap. “Fourteen times in the last nine minutes and forty seven seconds.”

They are in Mr. Minkus’s study/library, where Isadora ensconced herself a little while ago, and Zay came looking for her to vent his frustration after witnessing yet another bout of stare-at-them-longingly-but-look-away-before-they-catch-you-looking between Lucas and Maya.

Zay has spent quite a lot of time with Smackle in the recent weeks, especially after they arrived in the Hamptons. It’s mainly because Maya and Lucas are being Maya and Lucas, and Farkle is spending a lot of time by himself watching space documentaries. (Zay thinks this is because Farkle misses Riley, with whom he had some sort of a fight before she left for Maui, and now he’s feeling sorry about the fight and sorrier for himself because he and Riley aren’t exactly talking, while she and Maya call and text each other all the time.) In short, Isadora is the only sane one around, not to mention she’s quirky and funny and has a great sense of humour. Zay has always got along well with her, and lately they seem to be getting along like a house on fire, so he’s not complaining.

She looks at him and raises an eyebrow, and he realizes he’s been staring at her. He quickly looks away, thanking his stars that his blush doesn’t show on his skin, (though he’s not sure why he’s blushing), and returns to the topic of his pique: Maya and Lucas.

“That’s because it’s true!” He exclaims a tad dramatically. He stops his circular pacing around Mr. Minkus’s desk and chair (currently occupied by Smackle) to stand and gaze out of the large window behind her.

It’s drizzling outside — it’s been raining for the past couple of days — and after being cooped together indoors for so long, everyone has wandered off to spend the afternoon by themselves as they please. Which Zay is fervently thankful for because he doesn’t think he can handle another minute of Maya and Lucas’s charged silences and tense faces.

“I just can’t see them hurting like this anymore,” he says. “All I’m saying is we should lock them together in the pantry, or in a closet or something — god knows there’s enough of those in this house! — and not let them out until they tell each other how they feel.”

Giving up on getting any peaceful reading done when Zay is so worked up, Smackle sighs and closes the book, leaving her finger in between to mark her page.

“Did you know that when researchers, documentary filmmakers, and wildlife photographers study a natural habitat, they are not supposed to interfere or influence the flora and fauna? They must only observe the manner in which the subjects function and interact, because the deliberate introduction of any external factor will cause a change in their natural response — their normal behaviour — to the situation.”

Zay turns around to face her, hiding a smile. Trust Isadora Smackle to use a science analogy to present her argument. “Don’t you think the natural response of our fauna so far has only been to fuck up their situation worse?”

“They have had a significant amount of external assistance,” she reminds him. “I am sure you are aware, even if you were not present, that on New Year’s in eighth grade my former arch-lovesis and once again platonic arch-nemesis decided he knew the correct solution to the triangle based on the value of only one side, with complete disregard for the values — the feelings — of the other two sides of the triangle when he announced that Riley still liked Lucas.”

Zay winces at the memory of Lucas recounting that night to him. Well intentioned or not, that was definitely a pretty bad fuck-up on Farkle’s part.

“Or Riley insisting that Maya only liked Lucas because she had ‘become Riley’,” Smackle continues, curling her fingers to make air quotes.

There’s no missing the sarcasm in her tone.

“And that putting Maya ‘back in her place’—” (more sarcasm and more air quotes) “—would automatically solve the triangle problem. As a straight A student, Riley should have been aware that such a hypothesis has no logic, and no basis in fact and reality. No individual can become another person. Such a phenomenon is scientifically impossible, even when the individual is cloned, in which case they would be genetically identical but still different individuals. And Maya and Riley have zero genetic similarities. Of course, the only solution to the triangle Riley would have accepted back then was where Lucas chose her and not Maya. And since she correctly perceived that was an unlikely possibility, her brain constructed such an absurd theory.”

Zay has to really concentrate to follow what Isadora’s saying, but when he works it out, he has to admit she has a point. But— “Actions and problems based on human emotions don’t always have clear scientific solutions like a math or a physics problem, sugar,” he says gently.

“I am aware of that,” she replies. “Science does not dictate feelings. Emotions cannot be quantified into scientific equations. I am learning that more and more from you guys every day. But neither Farkle’s nor Riley’s actions in those two instances were correct, Isaiah. You do not disagree with me on that, do you?”

“No,” Zay admits.

“Which is why non-interference is our best and most favourable course of action.”

Izzy is right. Farkle and Riley’s meddling has caused enough trouble for Maya and Lucas in the past. And as much as Zay wants to lock Maya and Lucas together in a small confined space until they confess their feelings for each other, he knows it’s not the right thing to do.

Smackle pats his hand. “I am aware that this frustrates you. But just think of it as observing a complicated mating ritual. That is what I do.”

Zay snorts in laughter at the image her words create. But then he notices her tapping her finger on the iPad she carries everywhere to make notes and record observations, and suddenly he isn’t sure she meant that as a joke. And he’s even more unnerved by the fact that he finds the idea of Izzy carefully documenting their friends’ behaviour quirky and endearing rather than weird (and maybe a little creepy). He briefly wonders if she has a file on him too, and what it might say. Deciding he doesn’t really want to examine that line of thought right now, he turns his thoughts back to the more immediate matter at hand: Maya and Lucas.

It’s just difficult for him not to meddle, he thinks as he starts pacing around the desk and Smackle’s chair again, because he’s the only one who knows both sides of the story. He knows why Maya believes Lucas doesn’t have feelings for her, that he only likes her as a friend (all thanks to some carelessly thrown around words during their ski lodge trip back in freshman year). And he’s quite familiar with Lucas’s constant refusals (that usually have nothing to do with whatever topic they happen to be discussing at that moment) to tell Maya how he feels about her because he firmly believes “she doesn’t like me like that anymore, Zay”. No one can fault him for wanting to get his dumb-dumb friends together once and for all.

But he can’t say or do a thing because both Lucas and Maya made him promise not to tell anyone, especially Maya and especially Lucas, that they still have feelings for the other person. (On the same evening, at the same event, no less: the sophomore year school dance. But that’s another story.)

Since both of them had threatened him with bodily harm — Lucas had gone as far as to threaten to throw him into Tombstone’s enclosure, but Maya’s chilling “You won’t know what hit you, Babineaux!” was far more effective — Zay had agreed to keep his mouth shut even though it’s killing him. (Though he’s quite offended that they think he can’t keep a secret!)

He’s pretty sure the need for secrecy is redundant, though.

For one, neither Lucas nor Maya are anywhere near as successful at hiding their feelings for each other as they think they are. In fact, the only ones supposedly oblivious to the other one’s feelings are Lucas and Maya themselves. Even Mr. and Mrs. Grady, the live-in caretakers of Farkle’s beach house, have asked Zay whether Maya and Lucas are dating because of their constant flirty banter and all the not-so-secret glances.

And neither of their two genius friends can have missed the way Lucas’s jaw dropped when he saw Maya in a swimsuit on their first day at the beach. (And pretty much every other time after that.) Zay had to nudge his best friend to stop him from being so obvious. “Put your eyes back in your head, buddy.”

Lucas had snapped out of his daze. “I’m not staring at Maya.”

“Never said who you were staring at,” Zay smirked. “Also, close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.”

(He hopes no one noticed that he had pretty much the same reaction earlier when he first saw Smackle in that green bathing suit!)

A couple of afternoons later, they’d ended up watching The Longest Ride (okay, Zay had deliberately picked that movie when it had been his turn to choose). It hadn’t exactly worked the way he’d imagined, though. Instead of seeing themselves in the characters of Sophia and Luke, having an epiphany, and confessing their feelings for each other, Maya sat through most of the movie stony-faced while Lucas couldn’t stop fidgeting and glancing at her every two seconds.

But despite his subtle meddling (he can’t help himself! And yes, it was subtle!), Zay knows Maya and Lucas need to figure this out on their own. More importantly, they need to want to be together of their own free will, and want it enough to actively work towards it.

Or more accurately, as Zay sees it, this is mostly up to Lucas, since he was the one who screwed up by telling Maya at the ski lodge that he didn’t like that they tangled without clarifying what he really meant, leaving Maya under the mistaken impression that she’d misunderstood his feelings for her.

Maya isn’t going to believe Lucas still likes her — more than likes her, since by now Zay’s convinced his best friend is more than halfway in love with her — unless she hears and sees it from Lucas himself.

The worst part of Lucas and Maya’s refusal to declare their feelings for each other is the resulting unresolved sexual tension. It usually takes the form of relentless teasing and bantering, but sometimes escalates to sudden, heated fights, like the one they had just a couple of days ago.

Maya made a passing remark about one of Josh Matthews’ college friends being dreamy, which pissed Lucas off enough to make a snarky comment about it. (Lucas’s severe dislike of Josh — despite Maya being well and truly over him — is no secret.) This made Maya snap at him about how it wasn’t any of his business who she liked and to keep his opinions to himself.

Instead of wisely shutting up and changing the subject, (because Lucas is rarely wise when it involves Maya and his feelings for her), Lucas defended himself by claiming he was only looking out for her, which made Maya really blow up. She’d stormed out of the room, but not before informing him that she neither needed nor cared for his protection, and that he could shove it you know where, leaving behind an enraged Lucas, a resigned Zay, two awkward geniuses, and a ringing silence.

Smackle and Farkle had both showed no outward reactions. But Zay noticed that while Farkle had looked on with narrowed eyes, as if he was trying to solve a puzzling problem, Isadora had watched them closely, as if she was observing a science experiment.

That’s when he’d also realized that Isadora’s eyes are really beautiful and mesmerising, the deep, dark brown colour of chocolate brownies. And she has really pretty hair, like a river of the melted chocolate that Grandma Gandy uses while making his favourite cookies. But he should probably stop comparing her features to chocolate because it’s making him hungry.

Smackle’s voice interrupts Zay’s wandering thoughts. “Aha!” she exclaims, staring out of the window behind the desk, which overlooks the courtyard with the swimming pool. “Looks like you will not have to wait much longer after all, Isaiah!”

Zay scrambles around the table to join Izzy, whose face is pressed against the glass. There, standing by the edge of the pool and carrying a giant red umbrella, is Maya. And facing her, unbothered by the soft, misty drizzle, is Lucas.

Thanks to the drizzle, and the study/library being a floor above, Zay and Smackle can’t see Maya or Lucas’s faces very clearly. But the scowl on Maya’s face and the smirk on Lucas’s lips are unmistakeable. Because of the fixed window, the two watchers can’t hear a word of the conversation below either, but whatever Maya says makes Lucas smirk even wider.

Zay knows his best friend, he knows exactly why Lucas is radiating such smug satisfaction.

After their fight, Maya has cold-shouldered Lucas as much as possible. She hasn’t avoided his presence or ignored him outright, but she hasn’t spoken to him directly for two whole days, and Zay knows it’s making him miserable.

Confronting her like this, alone and outside in the rain where she can’t ignore him, is Lucas’s way of trying to get her to acknowledge him, to speak to him. The smug smirk plastered across his face is because he’s succeeded in getting her undivided attention. Plus, Maya seems irritated, which means she’s not unaffected by him. Which is why the smirk is wider.

Zay wants to hide his face behind his hands — he knows goading Maya into reacting can’t end well for Lucas. But he can’t not watch.

Lucas takes a step closer to Maya, and then another.

Zay holds his breath, and suddenly becomes aware that he and Isadora are clutching each other’s fingers. Her hand is small in his, but her grip is firm. He is completely distracted for a moment by how nice it feels, how soft her palm is. And he’s suddenly worried that his own hand is sweaty.

But just as he’s trying to decide what to do, how to react, to think around the way his heart is beating madly fast in his ears, Smackle lets out a huff of frustration. Zay quickly looks out of the window to see that Maya has shifted her hold on the umbrella, angling it in such a way that her and Lucas’s faces and the top halves of their bodies are hidden behind it. He swears (a little louder than he means to; Izzy’s hand is still gripping his, and he’s nervous), cursing the umbrella for obstructing their view.

They can’t really tell what’s going on now. All they can see are Lucas and Maya’s feet. When Lucas’s feet move another step closer to Maya’s, so that the owners of the said pairs of feet are almost standing toe to toe, Smackle lets out an extremely un-Smackle-like squeal that exactly mirrors Zay’s giddy excitement. Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! he wants to yell.

Instead, there’s a blur of motion, a flurry of action. Before they can comprehend what’s happening, there’s a loud splash as Lucas falls into the pool. Maya drops the umbrella and takes off in the opposite direction.

The two watchers just stare.

“Well,” Smackle says, releasing his hand.

Zay watches anxiously (and tries not to think about how he misses holding her hand), relaxing when his best friend surfaces, his hair streaming with water and plastered to his head, while Smackle presses her face to the window pane to follow Maya’s flight. She sees Maya head for one of the doors that leads back inside the house before turning her attention to the sight of a dripping Lucas as he emerges from the pool.

Zay notices her expression, and feels a sudden streak of pure irritation surge through him. “Will you stop ogling at him! You’ve seen him shirtless several times already!”

Smackle looks at him as if she’s pitying his intelligence. “Why would I deprive myself of such an appealing sight, regardless of how many instances I have witnessed it before? And why does it bother you anyway?”

Zay has no answer except that, for some reason, it does bother him. So he just grumbles as he leaves the room.

*****************

Zay finds Lucas in the bathroom of the room they share. He’s changed out of his wet clothes, but is yet to put on a t-shirt. He’s sat on the edge of the bathtub, drying his hair with a towel, scowling at the floor.

“Must you wander around shirtless?” Zay asks, exasperated.

“I didn’t know the sight of my bare chest affected you so much,” Lucas deadpans.

“Har har.” Everybody’s a comedian, Zay thinks. “That was just to warn you. You’re the one who complains when Smackle flirts with you.”

“Why does it sound like you’re more bothered by that than I am?”

“Pfft I’m not bothered. Why would I be bothered by Smackle flirting with you? She’s been doing it since before I moved to New York. Of course I’m not bothered.”

But it does bother Zay, so he changes the subject. “So,” he nods at Lucas’s state, “What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

Zay just raises an eyebrow.

Lucas sighs. “She’s so—” He cuts himself off with a snarl of frustration.

“Why? Because she told you she didn’t care for your opinion on Josh and his friends? Or did you try to woo her with your horse-birthing story again? Because then if I was her, I’d push you into the pool too.”

Lucas flings his towel to the floor in fury and surges to his feet. “I’m just trying to look out for her, why doesn’t she get that?”

“Why don’t you just tell her you have feelings for her?”

“I don’t have feelings for Maya,” he says sulkily, being contrary just because.

Zay snorts. “Right. And I’m in love with Smackle.”

Lucas gives him a weird look as he pulls on a t-shirt.

Zay notices. “What?”

“You have been spending a lot of time with her lately.” Lucas points out.

“That’s because I can’t take anymore of your and Maya’s drama. It’s more painful than a visit to the dentist!”

Farkle enters, a bowl of popcorn in his hands. “What did you do, Freakface?”

“Maya’s the one who pushed me into the pool.”

“Did you tell her that story again about how you gave birth to a horse, because—”

Lucas growls.

Farkle takes a step back hurriedly. “Just checking.”

“How do you know what happened anyway?” Zay asks Farkle, reaching for some of his popcorn. “I thought you were going to spend the afternoon in your home theatre watching space documentaries?”

“I was.” For a second, Farkle’s expression darkens before clearing up again. “But I went to get a snack, and saw the whole thing from the kitchen windows.” He grins. “Maya’s a lot stronger than she appears. Did you see how she just shoved him into the pool?”

He mimics the sounds of a yell and a loud splash, then grins proudly, as if he’s personally responsible for Maya’s feat of strength.

Zay wants to laugh, but Lucas looks seriously unamused, so he swallows his chuckle. “Lucas here needs advice on how to make things okay with Maya again.”

“I do not!”

“Well, we’re still going give it to you, buddy, because I, for one, am sick of watching you two bicker.”

“Why don’t you just tell her how you feel?” Farkle asks.

“I don’t have feelings for Maya.” Lucas lies with much more conviction this time.

“Sure,” Farkle nods. “You don’t have feelings for her. That’s why you looked like you were imagining ripping me apart with your bare hands for dancing with her at the winter formal.”

“That was before I knew it was you!”

Lucas’s eyes widen the minute the words are out of his mouth. Zay and Farkle snicker at him, and he narrows his eyes.

“Look,” Farkle says after a moment, his tone uncharacteristically sombre, at odds with his lighthearted ragging mere seconds ago, “All I’m saying is that if she doesn’t feel the same way, you can go back to wallowing in your misery like you’re doing right now, except you’ll know for sure that she doesn’t like you. It’s better than being like this just because you’re too afraid to tell her how you feel.”

There’s an awkward pause as Farkle looks out of the window, and Lucas and Zay exchange uncomfortable glances.

It’s obvious that Farkle is speaking from personal experience. And Zay, being as astute as he is, doesn’t need Smackle-level genius to deduce that this has something to do with Farkle’s fight with Riley. He’s not sure, though, whether Farkle is urging Lucas to tell Maya how he feels because he has already done the same with Riley himself (and possibly learned that she doesn’t reciprocate his feelings, though Zay doesn’t believe that for even a second), or because he wishes he had.

Clearly Farkle needs some serious cheering up — whatever has been bugging him, he has hidden it successfully enough so far that no one suspected how much it’s really bothering him. But Zay knows his friends. The easiest way to get Farkle’s mind off his own problems right now is to focus his attention on something else. And how handy that they have a dumb-dumb friend who desperately needs their help.

Except Farkle’s plan has a slight flaw.

“How is telling him that it might be a lose-lose situation supposed to encourage him?” Zay demands.

Farkle turns to Lucas and raises his eyebrows even as he dips his hand into the bowl for more popcorn.

Lucas sighs. “No, Farkle’s right. I should just tell her.”

What.

Zay stares at him. “I’ve been after you to tell Maya how you feel before I even moved to New York, and Farkle’s right?”

“Hey, I’m his best friend, and I know how he thinks.” Farkle beams, seemingly having bounced back to his usual cheerful self.

“Wait a minute,” Zay protests, “I’m his best friend.”

“If you were his best friend, you’d know that sometimes the only way to get Freakface to do something is to call him a chicken.”

“Hey, I don’t need a reason to call him a freak or a chicken!” Zay claps Farkle on his shoulder as they share a laugh.

“Okay, guys. Who are supposed to be my best friends,” Lucas interjects, “Can we get back to my problem here?”

“It’s not rocket science,” Zay tells him, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, listen to him. He hangs out enough with Smackle to know by now what’s rocket science and what isn’t,” Farkle quips.

Zay eyes his two friends suspiciously, trying to decide why that statement sounds like it’s poking fun at him. He doesn’t buy their innocent expressions, especially as Lucas just tried to pass off a snort as a cough, and Farkle is trying (and failing) to suppress amusement of indeterminate origin. (Shit, he must be spending too much time with Smackle, he’s even beginning to think in her words.) But he decides Farkle is merely making an observation, one that is in no way incorrect.

“Exactly,” he says, turning to Lucas. “Listen to Zay the wise! Just take Maya down to the beach tomorrow morning before breakfast, when it’s all calm and quiet and peaceful and fresh, and tell her how you feel about her.”

“Okay.” Lucas takes a couple of deep breaths, like a diver before going underwater, as if he’s gearing himself to go find their blonde friend and talk to her immediately. “Find Maya. Take her to the beach. Tell her how I feel. That’s it. Easy peasy.”

But he looks green, as if he’s going to be sick.

“Perfect!” Farkle finishes the last of his popcorn. “Now, I need to go find my former arch-lovesis and once again platonic arch-nemesis—”

“Why?” Zay interrupts, realizing a second later how abrupt he sounds.

“....Because I want to discuss this hypothesis we have about—”

“Oh, just science then.” Zay holds up his hand, inexplicably relieved for some reason that he does not want to examine. “Say no more!”

“You should come along, it might interest you.”

Zay chuckles. “Since when have I ever been interested in science?”

“I thought you might be, since Smackle’s going to be there.”

“What?”

“Uh.. nothing?” Farkle edges away nervously.

“Damn right it’s nothing!”

*****************

Zay does go looking for Smackle (and Farkle!) a while later. But he doesn’t find them anywhere until they arrive together for dinner, which sours his mood.

*****************

Contrary to Zay’s expectations, Lucas isn’t able to lure Maya down to the beach the next morning, or even the morning after that. Consequently, he has to endure two whole days more of Lucas’s looks of longing and desperation, and Maya’s impatience with everyone, but especially Lucas. And if that isn’t bad enough, Smackle seems to have decided that the best way to cover up the awkwardness caused by their two friends’ silent feud is by flirting with Lucas as much as possible.

For some reason, this irks Zay more than anything else. His best friend is supposed to be focused on Maya. Instead, he hangs out with Smackle all day, genially laughing off her attempts at flirting instead of discouraging her like he used to, and joking around with her and Farkle, the latter having seemingly decided to hop on the “let’s-annoy-Zay” bandwagon as well. Only Maya seems to find them just as irritating, something that is evident from the way she glares daggers at everyone.

So, it’s a very grumpy Zay and Maya who make their way down to the kitchen for breakfast a couple of mornings later.

And they arrive just in time to witness Smackle yank Lucas forward by his shirt collar Maya-style and plant one on him.

Zay gapes.

Everything seems to blur around him. All he can do is stare, horrified, as Isadora Smackle kisses his best friend. On the mouth. He can feel a hot wave of shock — and... anger? — and panic (that one he can identify for sure) flooding through him, because all this time, he thought Izzy was only joking around when she flirted with Lucas. But now, Zay’s not sure what to make of the situation at all.

At last, several torturous hours later (though according to Farkle, it was barely ten seconds), Smackle lets go of Lucas, who looks about as gobsmacked as Zay feels. “Huh.”

“Smackle!” Zay squawks, finally pushing past his shock enough to manage to get some words out.

Everything rapidly comes back into focus, and Zay is suddenly aware of Maya beside him, frozen like a stone. In the other corner of the room, Farkle, whom he hadn’t even noticed so far, stands with his brows raised at the scene unfolding before them.

Smackle and Lucas turn, at last noticing that they have an audience.

“Oh,” Maya stammers, “Uh– um– continue– didn’t mean to interrupt...”

Zay is too busy staring gormlessly at Smackle to realize that Maya has left, until Lucas, belatedly emerging from his shocked stupor, calls out her name like a desperate, drowning man, and barrels out after her.

“Maya!” He hollers.

“Come on, I don’t want to miss this!” Smackle drags Zay after them, and Farkle follows close behind.

The three of them get to the back porch just in time to see Lucas catch up with Maya, who has already reached the beach. It’s amazing how fast someone as short as her can move. Even Lucas has had to sprint to catch up with her.

It would have made a pretty picture — Maya with her long golden hair and rust-coloured hoodie, on the beach, a pink rain-washed sky as the backdrop — if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s storming away.

They can clearly hear Lucas from where they’re standing. “Maya! Maya, listen to me!”

He tries to take her hand but she rips it from his, and continues to move down to the shoreline.

“Maya, please! She kissed me, I didn’t kiss her, I swear!”

Maya turns and kicks Lucas in the shin. Hard.

“Oww!”

Undeterred, he hops after her on one foot as she walks away, and manages to snag her wrist. She shoves him away, which, as he’s still hopping, sends him falling on his back in the sand. But he doesn’t loosen his grip on her hand, causing Maya to fall too, right on top of him, and sprawl all over his chest.

From their vantage point, Zay, Smackle, and Farkle have a clear view of the spectacle unfolding on the beach.

In the process of struggling to get off Lucas’s chest and onto her feet, Maya drives her elbow straight into his gut, winding him. He lets out a strangled “Oof!”, but manages to grip her other wrist. They end up rolling so that Lucas is partially on top of Maya, who is swearing loudly and foully enough to make sailors and soldiers blush. Her curses float back up to the trio on the porch.

“This isn’t what I had in mind when I told him to have a nice quiet talk with her on the beach in the early morning quiet,” Zay states as they watch their two friends grapple.

Suddenly, Lucas collapses on top of Maya with a yell of pure agony. Zay and Farkle simultaneously hiss in sympathy. It’s obvious what has happened: Maya just kneed Lucas where it hurts the most. None of the watchers can tell if it was an accident or deliberate.

“Get off me, you big fat oaf!” Maya wheezes. “You weigh as much as a horse!”

She manages to shove Lucas off herself, and leaves him curled up whimpering on the sand as she stalks away. But now there’s less stalking off and more weariness in her, as if the fight has gone out of her.

Impressively, after a couple of minutes, Lucas manages to get to his feet and stagger after her, though he’s clearly still in pain. He reaches Maya and turns her to face him, and she doesn’t resist when he cups her cheek to raise her face. (He doesn’t have to make her look up too much; he’s still hurting badly enough that he can’t stand straight and is hunched over.) His voice is too low for those on the porch to hear what he’s saying, but even from this distance, they can see the earnestness (and pain) on his face.

It feels like an eternity, but he finally steps forward, closing the distance between them. Maya doesn’t protest, and Zay, Smackle, and Farkle watch eagerly as he leans down, closer, closer.... and rests his forehead on her shoulder with a heartfelt groan, clearly still needing a minute to deal with the lingering trauma of Maya’s knee making contact with sensitive parts of his anatomy.

Maya winces in sympathy, but there’s no mistaking the smile on her face as Lucas finally straightens enough to kiss her.

“Yeesssss!” Smackle shrieks.

Farkle lets out a loud whoop and snaps off a couple of pictures with his phone, which Zay now realizes he’s had trained on their friends all along. (He’s sure the videos and photos Farkle has taken are already on their way to Riley, a peace offering and a way to make up after their fight. Riley’s going to be pretty steamed she wasn’t there to witness this historic event in person.)

Zay cheers too, of course he does. He’s happy for his friends, and he’s happiest for himself. His otp is finally together, after three excruciating years. Damn, that slow-burn was the slowest burn to ever slow-burn!

But he knows this was bound to happen sooner or later. (He would have made sure it did.) Which is why, after jumping up and down excitedly with the others for a few minutes, he turns his attention to the brunette with glasses next to him. “Whatever happened to ‘non-interference is our best and most favourable course of action’?”

Smackle gives him a devious look. “I was not interfering,” she says primly, with a smug quirk of her lips. “I was merely testing the practical application of the hypothesis Farkle and I have been discussing for the past few days. And as the conclusive results show, our postulation based on empirical evidence for both sets of observations was accurate.”

Practical application of the hypothesis.... Zay’s mouth falls open. “You’re unbelievable,” he tells the two geniuses, aiming a glare at Farkle.

“And after that, I can safely say I do not comprehend what the fuss is all about.” Smackle grimaces and wipes her mouth. “It was like kissing a sibling. It was worse than kissing a sibling.”

She pushes off the railing and takes the stairs going down to the beach to join Lucas and Maya, who have finally stopped kissing and are grinning up at their friends happily. (Lucas has finally managed to stand up straight, though it looks like he’s trying to avoid moving as much as possible.)

Zay’s eyes follow Isadora, not wanting to examine the sheer relief coursing through him that she thought kissing Lucas was worse than kissing a sibling.

Something she said before tugs his brain, and he replays her words in his mind. “Wait a minute. What did she mean by “both sets of observations”?”

Farkle smirks at him slyly.

Shit, Zay thinks as Isadora turns and gives him a coy smile. He’s in trouble.

#lucaya #lucaya fanfiction #girl meets world #maya hart #lucas friar #zay babineaux #isadora smackle #zaydora #girl meets world fanfiction #gmw fanfiction #gmw #my writing #my posts

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she-walked-away · 7 years

Note

We are the only two parents who agreed to attend the school trip” AU (bonus: “so i guess we share this hotel room?”)

Hey guys! So, here’s a sequel to that school drabble I wrote a month or so back. I know this isn’t many people’s cup o’ tea, but this is about as canon-esque as I’ll write LOL.

WARNING: Fluff, Magical children, Magical School, and Flirty AF Klaus.

“Seriously?”

“What?”

Caroline glared over at her immortalpseudo-boyfriend, Klaus, who had the audacity to look confused.

“What the hell is this?” Carolinepractically screeched, gesturing at the huge white charter bus that was parkedon the street in front of her.

“A bus for the field trip,” he answeredquizzically. “At least for the children. Our transportation is over there.”

She followed his pointing with her eyesand groaned under her breath at the sleek black limo parked behind the bus.

“Absolutely not,” she said firmly.

Klaus rolled his eyes. “Sweetheart, it’snearly a 7 hour trip to Atlanta from New Orleans. I want us and the children tobe comfortable.”

“Yes, but I asked you to get a regularschool bus, not a charter,” she glared at him. “This is so much more expensivethan I budgeted for the field trip.”

Klaus waved her off flippantly. “Don’tworry about that.”

Caroline narrowed her eyes at him,crossing her arms and pursing her lips together. “What did I tell you aboutdoing stuff like this?”

Klaus heaved his bag on his back andwent to take her roller suitcase from her. “Love, just because you tell me tostop throwing money at people to get what I want, doesn’t mean I’m going toride in a ridiculous yellow vehicle with screaming children for seven hours.”

Caroline tossed him a glare. “Then whydid you volunteer to chaperone?”

Klaus smirked at her, his eyes rakingdown her form lustfully. She rolled her eyes and took back her suitcase fromhim, biting her lip at the low chuckle he let out.

Damn that stupidly attractive hybrid.

“Okay, just because we are semi-datingdoesn’t mean this is a trip to fool around on.”

Klaus gave her an offended look. “Firstof all, we are together, my love. Not just “semi-dating.” And I didn’t just come to stare at youfor the next two days, love, though, I probably will be-”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t helpthe small smile creeping across her face. A little thrill went down her back athis statement about their relationship as she inwardly marveled at how luckyshe was to finally have someone who cared for her as much as she always dreamedof.

They had been dating for the past coupleof months ever since the twins and Hope played parent trap with the newlyrebuilt Mikaelson Library. Surprisingly, everything was going really good withthem. Their children were thrilled their matchmaking had worked, but weren’ttoo happy with the many hours of detention they had to go through forpunishment.

However, surprisingly, Klaus was anamazing boyfriend-y type partner.

On the other hand, calling him herboyfriend was so weird. He was so much more than that.

“-But I came to make sure Hope would besafe and create some memories with my daughter,” he finished, arching a brow ather slowly forming sheepish expression.

“I know,” she answered begrudgingly.“You’re freakishly overprotective.”

Klaus just shrugged, leaning into kissher sweetly on the cheek. “I would do the same for the twins too.”

She wrinkled her nose cutely at him. “Idon’t know why Josie loves you so much. You suck up way too much to be takenseriously.”

He grinned, bumping her hip playfullywith his arm. “I think it’s because we both like you the most.”

Caroline barked out a laugh. “You’reridiculous.”

He just hummed as he gestured towardsthe limo. “Shall we?”

She shook her head. “We can’t. Part ofbeing a chaperone is actually watching the kids. We have to ride the bus.”

Klaus made a face. “But they are soloud.”

Caroline giggled, poking him in thechest. “Welcome to chaperoning. Call off the limo and then start gathering thestudents’ luggage. We have to leave after they are finished with breakfast.”

He growled under his breath as hestalked towards the limo. Caroline smiled as she watched him, basking in theway her heart stumbled as he walked away.

The School for the Young and Gifted NewOrleans branch was headed up to Atlanta for the opening of the Georgia branch.In addition to the Mystic Falls branch that Jeremy was now running, (Alaricmoved to New Orleans with his latest girlfriend when the twins decided thatthey wanted to attend school in Louisiana), there were now three branches ofthe school.

The opening ceremony was the next day,but she decided to leave earlier the day before so that the students would havetime to explore Atlanta. Klaus volunteered immediately to chaperone with heralong with a couple of other parents and he even offered up some of his minionsfor extra protection.

Caroline wasn’t too worried aboutanybody coming to harm the kids. She was more concerned about what kind oftrouble her students could cause with their shaky grips on their powers.Needless to say, both Hope and her daughters were all wearing their braceletsto contain magic for the next few days.

“Mommy is it time to go?” she heard asmall voice behind her.

Josie stood expectantly in front of herwith a little pink suitcase, Hope and Lizzie chattering away behind her withtheir bags.

“Just about!” she replied cheerfully.“Is breakfast already over?”

The little girl shook her head, herbrown hair waving in the air. “No, I just wanted to make sure I got a good seaton the bus. I want to be able to watch the movie Mr. Klaus promised.”

Caroline chuckled, tucking a lock behindher daughter’s ear. Of course the girls would already know about the charterbus. She heard Klaus come up behind her, his footsteps stopping as he came toher side.

“Hi Dad,” Hope beamed up at her father,her adoring eyes twinkling as the sun caught a gleam off her auburn locks.

“Mr. Klaus!” Lizzie cried cheerfully.“Are those for us?”

Caroline looked over at him, fightingthe urge to roll her eyes at the platter of chocolate covered strawberries thathe held in one hand and a bottle of champagne in the other. Clearly his limoride was just a tip of the iceberg for the romance plans he had for the trip.

“Of course they are,” Caroline chirped,smirking at Klaus’ annoyed expression. “Wasn’t that thoughtful of Mr. Klaus?”

“I love strawberries,” Josie grinned.“Thanks Mr. Klaus.”

“Is that grape juice?” Lizzie continued,motioning at the champagne bottle. “Because, no offense, but that’s gross.”

Klaus snorted, handing Hope the platterof strawberries and the bottle to Caroline. “Not to worry, love. I will arrangefor your mother and me to drink it later.”

“I doubt that will happen,” Caroline cutin with a wink. “Hope, why don’t you take that to your seats on the bus? Jo,Liz, will you give your luggage to Klaus? He’ll go load it for you.”

Klaus growled under his breath as hetook the pink suitcases, annoyed at having been regaled to manual labor. Shesmirked victoriously before asking Lizzie to tell the other students to hurrywith their luggage so Klaus could load it in the undercarriage.

He was still grumbling ten minutes laterwhen the students began to file onto the bus.

“How many more hours?” Lizzie whinedsome time later, peeking over her mother’s shoulder at her watch.

Caroline sighed, rolling her eyes. “Atleast two until we reach the hotel.”

Klaus didn’t respond, having perfectedthe art of faking a nap. Josie and Hope were settled behind them, thwarting hisplans at trying to flirt with Caroline during the ride, and Lizzie sat acrossthe aisle, constantly interrupting their conversations with questions.

Klaus had been faking a nap for the pasthour, leaving Caroline to sit and try not to pull her hair out at her daughtersand his daughter’s constant questions about the trip.

“I’m so bored, Mommy,” Lizzie groaned,looking longingly at the sketchbook in Klaus’ hands.

Caroline pinched the top of her nose.“Why don’t you read one of your schoolbooks? I know that Professor Freya gaveyou an assignment to complete by Tuesday.”

“I already did it,” the little girl saidobviously.

“Watch the DVD that’s playing?” Carolinesuggested, gesturing at an animated Disney movie playing on the screen in frontof the bus.

“I’m tired of that one,” Lizziecomplained.

“Talk to your sister and Hope?”

“We are rooming together and I can talkto them later.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you,sweetie,” Caroline shrugged. “You’re going to have to entertain yourself.”

“Can I color?” Lizzie asked, looking atKlaus. “I brought my pencils.”

Caroline hid a smile as she nudged Klaussemi-violently with her elbow. She could tell by the twitch of his lips thathe’d been listening to their conversation, happily ignoring them. He let out agroan, but opened his eyes begrudgingly. The girls loved it when Klaus drewthem pictures to color in his sketchbook, and it amused Caroline to no end onhow this totally murderous hybrid was wrapped around the three girls’ pinkies.

“Hmm?” Klaus asked, faking a huge yawn.“What’s going on, sweetheart?”

Caroline refrained from rolling her eyesas she turned back to the book she was trying to read.

“Mr. Klaus, can I have a picture todraw?” Lizzie asked sweetly, blinking up at him. “I brought my colors but noneof the pictures I draw to color are as good as yours.”

Caroline snorted at her daughter’sobvious attempt at sweet-talking him. There was no need to it, Klaus was worseat resisting her daughters than her.

“Of course, love,” he said, flipping openhis book and ripping out something from the back. “I drew a couple of picturesbefore I left for you girls.”

Lizzie’s eyes light up and she took thebeige paper from him. “Thanks Mr. Klaus! You’re the best.”

Klaus smirked, nudging Caroline with hiselbow. “Did you hear that love? I’m the best.”

She scoffed, turning a page in her book.“You keep thinking that.”

He rose to her bait, brushing her earwith his lips as he murmured lowly in her ear. “I intend on thoroughly provingthat to you later.”

Caroline bit her lip, fighting off ashiver. He smugly grinned, pushing a curl behind her ear before pressing aquick kiss to her cheek. She pushed him back lightly, eyes skimming the bus tomake sure no one saw.

It’s not like she was ashamed of herrelationship with Klaus. But, she didn’t want any of the other chaperones tothink she brought Klaus along to just flirt and make-out with the entire time.The parents of her school trusted her to take care of their children and shedidn’t want them to ever doubt that their education and safety were her firstpriority on trips.

“Not on this trip,” she managed to getout. “I’m kicking you out of my room after lights out.”

Klaus drew back with a pout. “You don’twant to be bed buddies?”

Caroline made a face at him, his lipsquirking up amusedly. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

“I don’t think parents would be happy ifI shacked up in the hotel room with one of the other parents when I’m supposedto watching their children,” she spoke, narrowing her eyes at him. “No sexwhile I’m working.”

“That’s not what you said last week whenyou begged me to take you on your desk,” he said cheekily, pressing a kiss toher temple.

Caroline jaw dropped and she elbowed himin the ribs, feeling a frisson of satisfaction at the grunt he let out.

“That does not count,” she said, herbreath hitching when Klaus pressed a kiss to her neck. “It was a Saturday nightand I was catching up on work and you ambushed me with wine and beignets.”

He chuckled darkly against her skin,skimming his nose down her cheek. “You loved it.”

Caroline harrumphed weakly, rolling hereyes. “Whatever you think.”

Klaus pulled back and grinned at herlewdly. “The memory speaks for itself, love.”

She just scoffed and turned back to herbook, shivering a bit at his deep chuckle. Her skin prickled at his nearnessand she studiously ignored him as he turned back to his sketchbook. He ran hishand down her thigh, giving her knee a squeeze before pressing a kiss to hercheek and began to sketch. The girls behind her were chattering away withLizzie carefully coloring the wolf that Klaus had drawn. Caroline couldn’t helpbut smile to herself.

She could get used to this.

************************************

“Seriously?”

Klaus just rolled his eyes, heaving hissuitcase up on the bed. “It wasn’t my fault, sweetheart.”

Caroline glared at him. “Really? BecauseI specifically remember booking a room for me and a separateone for you.”

She glared at the single king-size bedin the middle of the room like it was a pariah. When they arrived at the hotelshe booked for the trip, the front-desk clerk announced that they’daccidentally double-booked some of the rooms.

Most of the other parents were fine withsharing, Klaus especially since he offered to take Caroline’s room with her.

Caroline fumed at the clerk, even tryingto compel them to make sure that Klaus hadn’t done the same to have themsupposedly overbook their reservations.

Either Klaus got to them before she did,or they really did mess up.

“You heard person at the front desk,love. They overbooked with that television convention in town,” he unzipped hissuitcase. “Shall I unpack your things too?”

“Nope,” she said, lugging her suitcaseto the other size of the room. “I’m going to try to get another room tomorrow.”

Klaus pressed his lips together as helooked over at her. “Is the idea of sharing a room with me so repulsive?”

Caroline looked up quickly, heartsqueezing when she noted the hidden hurt in his eyes. His tone was nonchalant,but his body language indicated otherwise.

“Of course not,” she said softly,feeling a pang of guilt.

Klaus looked away. “You could havefooled me.”

She sighed, dropping her suitcase andwalked over to him. Pulling his suitcase off the bed, she took Klaus’ hand andmoved him to where they both sat on the foot of the bed.

“I love sharing a room with you,” shemurmured.

Klaus’ jaw tightened. “You don’t have tolie to soothe my ego, love.”

Caroline groaned in frustration. “It’snothing to do with that. It’s this whole trip.”

He gave her a bewildered look. “Did younot want me to come?”

“Of course I did,” she drew back,blinking at him surprisingly. “It’s just- this is one of our first trips as aschool, and I wanted to stay professional. Yes, we’re together, but I wanted toshow all the other chaperones and parents that even though I dating one ofthem, that I can still remain professional and keep my focus on their children.”

Klaus gave her a confused look.“Sweetheart, you’re always professional. Your school is growing becauseof your dedication.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “I just wantedto maintain that same focus so that parents will trust me with their children.”

“I don’t think you’ll ever have to worryabout that, my love,” Klaus answered back, pressing a line of kisses across hercheek. “I’m the most powerful creature in the planet and I trust you with myown child. That should speak for itself.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, but a smallsmile crept across her face. “Modest as always.”

Klaus gave her a cheeky grin. “Ofcourse.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “Fine, wecan share the room. But absolutely no funny business.”

He looked at her innocently, folding hisarms behind his back as he stood up. “You have my word, love. Absolutely nounnecessary touching.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why do Ifeel like you’re choosing your words carefully with that “unnecessarytouching”?”

His answering smile was wolfish.

Caroline went to respond, but wasinterrupted by a knock at the door. She shot a quick questioning look at himand he shrugged, placing a protective hand on the small of her back as theywent to answer the door together.

She checked the peephole, flinging thedoor open when she saw a familiar red head of hair. “Hope?”

The little girl gave her a sheepishlook, fidgeting uncomfortably in her blue pajamas. “Can I stay with you andDaddy?”

“What’s wrong?” Klaus asked immediately,checking her over and looked down the hall. “Where are Lizzie and Josie?”

Hope made a face. “Lizzie snores so loudand Josie was kicking me in her sleep.”

Caroline giggled, all too familiar withher daughters’ restless sleep patterns. She loved her girls, but thank goodnessfor her quick healing vampiric nature because Josie packed a vicious kick.

“I know all too well about Lizzie’ssnoring,” she said, opening the door wider so that Hope could come in. “Ittakes a while to tune it out.”

“Auntie Freya usually burns sage whenshe stays at the Compound,” Hope said, bounding over to the bed and jumping onit. “But since we can’t use magic, I could hear it all.”

Caroline made it a strict rule thatunder no circumstances were the witches and warlocks to use magic when theywere on field trips or in hotels. There was too much that could happen with themultitude of different powers.

Plus it would be a mess to try to compel anybody who gotcaught up in a spell gone wrong.

She helped Hope turn down the covers,letting the redhead situate herself on Klaus’ side of the bed.

“Here,” she tossed a few pillows atKlaus’ face. “Love seat is all yours.”

Klaus grumbled, muttering under hisbreath about his own flesh and blood and his lover kicking him out of the bedhe reserved especially for that night.

So he did compel the frontdesk.

“Thanks for this trip Ms. Forbes,” Hopesaid quietly, her red hair fanning out on the white pillows. “I’m having somuch fun.”

Caroline smiled down at the girl as shehelped tuck the blankets around her little body. “I’m so glad.”

Klaus sat down next to his daughter,pressing a quick kiss to her forehead as he wiped her hair off her forehead.Hope smiled up at her dad, nudging him with her knee.

“Don’t forget to kiss Caroline goodnighttoo, Dad,” she grinned cheekily, arching her brow up in a way that looked somuch like Klaus. “Don’t mind me.”

Caroline threw her head back andlaughed. The girl’s boldness reminded her so much of Rebekah and how plainlyshe always spoke. Klaus rolled his eyes, kissing his daughter on the head oncemore before turning out the lamp at her side.

“Night, sweetheart.”

“Night Dad,” Hope said sleepily.

He got up and moved over to Caroline’sside of the bed, pushing a blonde curl behind her ear.

“Tomorrow night?” he murmured lowly.

“Maybe,” she teased, lifting up on herelbows.

Klaus caught her lips with his, placinga searing kiss on her mouth. She sighed softly, swiping her thumb across thestubble on his cheek. He smiled into the kiss, pulling back to press one toher nose and then another on her lips.

“Goodnight, love.”

She watched him get back to theloveseat, tossing her a quick wink before turning out the light.

“Night Klaus.”

Review Here Please :)

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #loving klaroline #my writing

103 notes · View notes

jdubfromthehub · 7 years

Text

Is it too late to tell you about 2016?

I’ve written this list in my head every year for the last 3 or 4. This year I’m finally committing it to pixels. You can read my thoughts on new music discovery here and here (I hid it as best I could). I point that out, because this isn’t your typical ‘top 10’ or ‘best of’ list. In two parts, it’s about discovery & experience - and the primary audience is me. Nevertheless, I thought I’d share it with you as well.

Discovery

This is the part I’ve been writing in my mind the past few years. Each year, I pick 3 new (to me) artists and officially add them to the pantheon of my favorites. Just by chance, all three acts happen to be female. In keeping with the this-is-not-necessarily-a-best-of list, they’re listed in chronological order (of discovery), rather than any implicit ranking.

Jill Andrews (via Daytrotter) One of my favorite podcasters used to say, “every day someone is born who hasn’t seen the Flintstones.” That is, many of us were born after The Beatles, or Led Zeppelin were still together, but we discover these bands at different times. Apparently Jill Andrews has been around for many years, just out of my earshot. However, once I heard her sing “My Love is For”, she had my full attention.

Jill Andrews - "My Love is For" - YouTube

I quickly had to dig into her back catalog. Jill was in a band for many years with Sam Quinn called The Everybodyfields, and she recently recorded a duet with Seth Avett.

I'm so in Love with You- Jill Andrews (feat. Seth Avett) - YouTube

Jill is the only artist on this list that I didn’t see live this year. I’m hoping that can be remedied in 2017.

The Wild Reeds (via Daytrotter) Let No Grief was one of my anthems of 2016. There’s a repeating lyric in the chorus, “now I have to sing something louder than I ever have before - so I can escape this overwhelming pain and never hurt no more.”

The Wild Reeds - Let No Grief - NPR Tiny Desk Concert Contest ...

Okay, I said this was an all female list, but there are two dudes in this band. They just happen to be led be a trio of gals with beautifully powerful voices. I caught these gals at the Sunset in November. I love how the shortest of the three gals seems to lose all self awareness while singing, and is utterly transported to another realm where she stores these deep emotions that are conveyed through song.

The Wild Reeds on Audiotree Live (Full Session) - YouTube

**My Bubba **(via Daytrotter) If you know me, and you’ve seen me in the past 2 months, I’ve probably already shown you this video.

My Bubba: NPR Music Tiny Desk Concert - YouTube

Simply enchanting.

My bubba - Full Performance (Live on KEXP) - YouTube

I have more to say about them, because they made my list of top experiences of the year as well.

Experience

Say what you will about 2016, but I went to more shows in the last year than I have any other year of my life. I went to 137 concerts at 24 different venues in 2016. That works out to about a show every two-and-a-half days. There were only 9 weeks of the year (that is to say, a seven-day interval) where I didn’t see any shows. I never went as long as 2 weeks without seeing a show (11 days was the max). The longest stretch of at-least-a-show-a-day was just 5 days. Several bands I saw more than once; I saw Rabbit Wilde, Bob Mould, Lemolo, Fly Moon Royalty, Thunderpussy, and Naked Giants three times each - and Grace Love I saw 4x. Those are just numbers. The quantity isn’t in question. What about the quality?

I can’t remember who, but I heard someone say, “when you take a photograph, you’re not actually trying to capture a place, but a feeling.” Feelings are hard to capture on film (or in pixels), so I’ve taken fewer pictures & videos at shows this year - and instead have tried to be more immersed in the moment and the experience. To that end, here are (in chronological order) six experiences that I expect will stay with me for years to come.

Black Sabbath A dream come true for my fourteen-year-old self. It was the single most expensive concert ticket I’ve ever purchased, at a venue that I would ordinarily avoid (Tacoma Dome). Despite the hype/scale/setting, my expectations were exceeded. It’s risky to see an artist you love in their twilight years. I was worried they wouldn’t be able to live up to my memories, but they performed as though they were all in their 20s (yet sober). Ozzy paced manically across the stage as I recollect from all the concert footage I saw from the 80s. Tommy made me remember why every young boy who falls in love with guitar rock/heavy metal starts by learning a Black Sabbath song. The crowd was not as aged as I might have expected, and it was a great example of what a love about live music, in general: a large-scale, communal, joyful & celebratory experience. If you’re wondering, “yeah, but did they play ’x’?” here’s the set list from the night.

Dan Mangan Dan is a bigger deal in his native Canada, than he is down here. Back home, Dan no longer plays in rooms as small as the Sunset Tavern. That was a big part of what made the evening special. He didn’t play with a band - it was just him with his voice and guitar. The show wasn’t sold out, so in a room that small, it really felt special and intimate. One thing that can add to that whole ‘communal’ experience I mentioned, is a good ol’ sing-a-long. He closed the show by coming out into the middle of the audience, standing on a chair, and asking us to join him in the final song of the night. You’ll have to pardon the visual quality of this video, but I think it does a pretty good job of capturing ‘the feeling’ of the night.

Filmed from a foot away...

Youth Rescue Mission, Daniel Blue When presented with more or less equivalent music options, I will almost always choose smaller: Crocodile or Neumos over the Neptune Theatre; the Sunset over the Tractor Tavern; Fremont Abbey over most anywhere else, etc. I mention that to say that there’s a reason you’re not very likely to run into me at Sasquatch or Bumbershoot (or Coachella, or ACL, or Bonnaroo, or…). However, there have been 3 smaller festivals (Doe Bay, Pickathon, Timber) on my radar for a few years. I finally managed to make it up to the picturesque San Juan Islands for the (penultimate?) Doe Bay Festival. I doubt I will ever miss again. There were many amazing experiences in this amazing atmosphere of beautiful scenery, music, and camaraderie. At maximum, there are never more than a thousand folks present for the two days of official programming (Friday & Saturday). However, folks often come early (Wednesday or Thursday) and stay late (Monday) to experience the ‘unofficial’ showcases on Thursday and Sunday. Folks gather around camp fires and under apple trees and impromptu busking stages to jam. On Sunday, there was a mash-up of 3 acts (Whitney Lyman, Gabriel Wolfchild & The Northern Light, and Youth Rescue Mission) that gave the performance of the afternoon. It was a pied-piper kind of situation as folks flocked to the Yoga Studio to see who was making such sweet sounds. Though it was a mash-up of several acts, they were primarily playing the music of a sibling-anchored band called Youth Rescue Mission. Towards the end of their set, they mentioned that they’d be performing a couple house shows the following week in Seattle. I already had plans for one of those nights, so I made plans to see the other. The setting was a modest back yard at a private residence on Capitol Hill. It was a late-summer potluck dinner. The homeowner (that very day) had built a small stage (with an eye toward future shows) and put out an open call for any musicians/artists/poets present to get up and take the mic before the main attraction. A young gal recited a poem or two, then this guy (I had no idea who he was at the time) pulls out a crazy 3-stringed-guitar and proceeds to blow my mind with some amazing sounds. He was followed by a smaller-than-Doe-Bay-lineup of Youth Rescue Mission. You get the picture…or not…that is to say, the whole journey to and from Doe Bay to a back yard in the city was an utterly singular experience. Songs were sung around a campfire well into the night. We were never a terribly boisterous crowd, but I’ve still got to give props to the understanding neighbors.

From the fire...

My Bubba Utterly enchanting. I find it impossible to accurately describe these gals without using that word. It was one of only a handful of seated shows I’ve ever seen at the Tractor Tavern. Tragically, the venue was onlly half-full - but those of us that were gathered got to witness a magical evening. I listen to a wide variety of musical styles and artists, and I seldom listen to the same thing more than once a quarter…yet I can’t seem to help myself with these two lovely ladies. Something about their sparse/minimalist/indie-art-folk speaks deeply to me. This show left a mark on me that won’t wash away anytime soon. If you see me in the next few weeks and I’m staring longingly into the distance, I’m probably thinking about My Bubba. Enchanting.

Temple of the Dog What Black Sabbath was to my fourteen-year-old self, Temple of the Dog was to my nineteen-year-old self. If you know me well, and we share a mutual love of music, you may have heard my epic MLB/TotD/PJ story. If you haven’t heard it, I only tell it in person. I’ve seen both Soundgarden separately, and on the same bill. When I saw them play in Austin, TX in April of 1992, one of the first things Eddie Vedder said when he took the stage was, “no Temple show tonight.” Temple had never toured before this year - but this summer they announced a 5 city tour that culminated in their collective hometown of Seattle. After the tickets sold out in minutes, a few extra shows were added - so 8 shows in 5 cities. I caught what may well be the 2nd-to-last TotD show ever. So you can appreciate that it would be difficult to modulate my expectations for a show like this. I’m pleased to report, as in with the Sabbath show, my expectations were met and exceeded. Not only did they play every single track off their only record, they played a half-dozen or so Mother Love Bone songs, some Pink Floyd, Bowie, and The Cure. I had literal goosebumps many times throughout the show, none more than when I heard the open licks to Stardog Champion - a song I never thought I’d hear performed (well) by (most of) the original members of the band. It was an epic night. I didn’t go to the final show because I had a business trip to Denver. However, I must confess that, as is often the case in Seattle, that I would have been posed with a very difficult decision that night: see the 2nd Temple show, or catch Seu George perform the songs of David Bowie at Benaroya Hall. First world problems…

Honorable Mentions/Miscellany

Ben Ottewell Truth: I had this in the list above until I realized I had six in the list, where I’d intended to constrain myself to five. Now you see how I deal with constraints. I’ve been a Gomez fan (not nearly as rabid as my friend Alisa) since 1998, but this was my first exposure to any of the band’s various side projects. This show had several things in its favor: 5pm show on a Sunday at a small venue. The artist was a talented, witty, articulate Brit (why do we like the way they talk) that not only gave a solid performance, managed the crowd well. I have seen a wide variety of audiences in the same venues. I have seen artists I love suffer through poorly behaved, rude & talkative audiences. I’ve seen a lot of those shows at the Tractor (and the Neptune, and…), but Ben did a masterful job of guiding the audience without being heavy-handed. He reminded them why they were there without pouting or sulking, and the crowd responded in kind. Whether or not you’re a fan of Gomez, I highly recommend you check out Ben’s solo work.

Boss Hogg I attended 34 live performances at KEXP this year, 8 of those in the Live Room at their New Home. My favorite of the lot was this performance from Boss Hogg, which clocks in at just over 16 minutes (the last two minutes are pure gold).

Heligoats: Back to the Lake Remember Clem Snide, and their lead singer Eef Barzelay? Well this is the band that came after. Heligoats have released 12 records to-date, and it warrants an honorable mention here because it is uncommonly good. As I’m writing this, I’ve found that no Heligoats page even exists on Wikipedia. How can this be?! With all of the amazing releases that came out this year, there’s not a one that eclipses this one for me. This is noteworthy because…it’s the 12th release from an artist that has been working in the trenches for decades now, and you almost certainly haven’t heard it - and that’s a travesty. You should really do something about that. Right now.

Penny & Sparrow Let me just get it off my chest: if you show up late to a show, or if you hang out in the bar until the headliner is on their 2nd or 3rd song, you’re not just behaving badly, you’re likely a bad person, as well. There, I’ve said it. Now you know how important I think it is to show up early enough to give the opener a fair listen. Given that I went to 137 shows, (understatement alert —>) I saw a lot of opening acts (<—understatement alert). Quite simply, these guys stole the show. Don’t get me wrong, I was really looking forward to seeing Johnnyswim a second time, but these guys owned the crowd from the acapella opening song. I’ll also give credit where it’s due: this was one of the best crowds I’ve encountered at the Neptune Theatre. They were quiet, respectful, and attentive - even for the opener.

Thunderpussy As I type this, a few days after their NYE Eve (not a typo) show at Neumos, my calves still ache from jumping up and down like a kid in the mosh pit. Best punk show (with Wild Powwers & Naked Giants) that I’ve seen in ages. You may have noticed that I’ve seen these guys (okay, gals) 3x this year, but they don’t have a record out yet. If you don’t live in the Seattle area, you have been warned: Thunderpussy is coming.

Sunset Tavern I went to 8 shows there this year, and I think it may be my favorite venue in the city (at the moment). Small, intimate, simple dive bar - where they make great drinks at a fair price. One of the many gems in Ballard’s crown.

In Memoriam I’m grateful to have seen both of these artists perform during 2016, the year they left us:

Sharon Jones Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings - Full Performance (Live on KEXP ...

Leon Russell Elton John and Leon Russell - If It Wasn't For Bad (LIVE) - Beacon ...

Here’s a quote from an article I read recently: “there is a way in which sadness frees up vulnerable thoughts, and I'm not sure we've ever had a better year for memorial essays and other reminders to appreciate the artists you love as loudly and unreservedly as you can.”

Here’s to the experiences yet to come in 2017

#2016 #best of 2016 #music #live music #experience #discovery

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