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obeymeluv · 3 years

Text

“I Got All A’s! Can I Have Some Dick?” (Bros + Undateables)

Just something stupid and funny I thought about. You had a very tough semester in the Devildom and you got good grades! You want to celebrate and go to your favorite demon to ask for a special reward.

Obvious NSFW warning. No minors allowed!

No Luke. Luke is baby.

I have a personal headcanon that Simeon likes to be totally cozy when he writes. We’re talking big fluffy sweaters or a blanket cozy. I like to think he wears glasses when he writes, too.

Lucifer

He’s part of a special committee who’s notified about your grades/progress so he actually knows before you do

Proud boyfriend is proud

Purrs when he opens up the wax-pressed envelope and reviews your marks

Secretly plans a cute, fancy dinner date at Ristorante Six

Is thinking of being suave and breaking the news to you when you bounce into his study (he may or may not have poured a couple of glasses of your favorite age-appropriate beverage)

He’s got something witty prepped and is ready to toast you and maybe steal a few kisses but you come out of left field like a bullet with a simple “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Lucifer.exe is broken

That’s what you want as a reward? No dinner, no date?

Literally doesn’t know what to say for a few seconds. Totally freezes. Starts to stutter.

His brain kicks back in when you start playing with the folds of his collar and petting his chest and staring at him with those wanting eyes

Sets his glass down, fixes the cuff of his gloves, and hoists you up to plant you on the nearest surface. “I will make it worth every point, and you will say all the letters.” he purrs.

Mammon

He’s just happy he passed.

Mammon actually does pretty well, he’s just a very...chaotically successful type. A lot of last minute turn-ins and such. Not top marks, but no dunce either.

Now that the semester’s over he’s checking his schedule to see when the next shoot is or if he has time to squeeze in a party. Maybe a trip somewhere. Something fun!

He’s feeling lucky! Lucky enough to win some money and make Goldie happy!

If he’s going anywhere, he needs a good luck charm though! He goes to hunt you down and his stomach just warms because you’re smiling and clearly in a good mood

It makes him purr in that cute, curious little way. Basically using the demon’s language to ask you why you’re in such a good mood (but you don’t know that. It’s basically a cute chirp).

You both shout your good news at the same time.

His invite to go tear it up was a bit long so it takes a minute for his brain to process what you said. You want...his dick?

Boy wants to blush SO BAD. HE’S SO RED!

Well now his thing seems stupid, doesn’t it? He wants to do your thing! Your thing sounds GREAT!

“OF COURSE you want to be with the GREAT Mammon!” he’s got his hands on his hips and his chest is puffed out big in that happy, silly way he has about him.

No, really, you do your thing. It’s a great thing.

It’s a good way to unwind from exams, right? He likes it!

Levi

If Levi didn’t get good grades, Lucifer would kill him.

Probably force him to go to school physically ALL THE TIME!

HIS SUBSCRIPTIONS WOULD BE AT RISK,OKAY?

He’s a solid B student (at least). No desire to be all A’s. Too much time away from other passions.

Because he’s well-behaved and leas likely to get on Lucifer’s nerves, he gets a little bit of bonus money for good grades.

Levi’s neck-deep in his charts and comparisons and muttering to himself about where to invest that money when you pop into his room

“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?!”

You get The Noise

How indecent! How naughty of you to ask! But yes, yes you can. Absolutely. 100%!

He’s really shy about it because it’s sudden and you asked him instead of him having a cool moment or anything, but it ends up being a giggle-filled romp that ends with a cuddle in his bathtub bed and you wrapped up in his tail

He totally suggests a round two with a sexy VR game or just making bets with ‘winner take all’

Satan

He’s a grade juggernaut with lots of self-discipline so Satan expects to get out what he gets in

The type to be smug because he knows he did well. He owes it to himself and he’s glad.

Likes to treat himself to an outing, be it a simple walk or a visit to a cafe or even a new book

Satan’s 100% ready to settle down with some books by the fireplace. At the end of the semester he typically makes a one or two-portion charcuterie board and picks at it while he reads

Thumb keeping his place, Satan’s in the middle of stacking a fancy little cracker with meat and cheese when you let yourself in

His eyes flick to you and he smiles, eating his little cracker

You pick at his tray with him (he’ll let you, of course). “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Chokes on cracker. It’s not a good time

Almost drowns himself/further chokes trying to wash it down with drink

Can’t help but laugh at your...bold request

When he sees he’s kind of sputtered all over himself, he slips out of his clothes and makes a few witty jokes as your ‘naked butler’

Naked butler happily provides his services

Later he makes you picked crushed cracker off the floor with him

Asmo

The second Asmo knew he passed everything (like he always does. Just because he’s pretty doesn’t mean he’s stupid!), he booked himself a full day pampering experience

His inner circle of beauty specialist know his routine so they save his spots for him

Asmo sweet-talked them into including his favorite human and he’s DYING to tell you and DYING to make his brothers jealous

You skip into his room, so bright and lovely, and hold his hands in the cute excited way he likes. Makes his heart skip a beat every time like it’s young love.

“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Doesn’t expect it and has probably never been asked ‘Can I have some dick?’ in the thousands of years he’s been alive

Boy gives an airy laugh because he’s surprised and flattered. Of COURSE you want him (because who wouldn’t?) but he always gets a bit shy when it’s YOU asking

“Sounds amazing,” he’s already peppering you with kisses, “and I’m happy to provide but can we do it after our special spa day?”

You guys have a sweet, lazy round the day of the booking to ‘loosen up’ and ‘fully appreciate the services’ and he DEFINITELY worships you when all is said and done because ‘the epitome of beauty deserve the epitome of devotion’

Beel

Boy works hard and celebrates even harder. Usually with food

Because he’s always hungry and looking forward to eating, Beel likes to do his work ahead of time. The sooner he does it, the more time he has to eat!

He has to keep up good grades to stay on the sports teams, anyways

Solid B student, sometimes A’s. C’s and below aren’t a thing. He refuses.

Because he is also best boy and generally acts as Lucifer’s pseudo-enforcer, he also gets some bonus money.

The coach of his local sports team also pitches in because Beel is best boy and a TANK. He could literally carry the whole team

Beel’s all set to hit the town with his food money when find him and wrap your arms around him

He’s all excited and ready to tell you about the food money when you make his face catch fire. “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Brain also stops. BEEL IS SO EMBARRASSED!

You’d rather have him than food? That’s pretty impressive! He’s honored!

But...what if you could have both? He’s totally down for both!

You celebrate your success by staying in (bed) and spoiling yourselves with food in-between rounds

Belphie

Belphie is a ‘C’s get degrees’ kind of guy but C’s are his minimum. Tries for B’s and usually gets mid-to-low B’s.

With exams over he’s 100% down to sleep the day away and there’s NO REASON for ANYONE TO BUG HIM ABOUT IT!

Totally prepared to live in his finest pyjamas until school starts again. Might even treat himself to a new pillow or blanket!

If he hadn’t learned your scent by now, you wouldn’t have a face when you breach his blanket cocoon

Belphie just snorts and smiles at your little face and messy hair (the blankets give it static and mess it up)

You kiss his nose and wait to make sure he’s really awake before sharing the good news. “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Laughs himself to the point of almost choking on one of his blankets

Throws himself out of the cocoon to breathe and wipe his tears away

But yes, yes you can. After he calms down, he pulls you onto his lap to straddle him.

It’s fun and lazy but a genuine celebration of the end of the semester

Diavolo

He’s the other part of the committee that saw your grades, so he knows

It’s a bit off his plate so he won’t have as many duties to attend to

Diavolo wasn’t sure when you’d come over, but Barbatos assured him you’d be over that day. He did his best to speed through his meetings and arrange his schedule to have a rest period

He asked Barbatos to prepare a small, modest lunch of finger foods and some complimentary tea

You may have thought Diavolo was making himself a plate when you walked in, but it was actually a plate for you

The prince of the Devildom almost dropped that plate when you said, “I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Prince of Hell is super blushy and flustered and awkward and almost knocks his teacup off the table. Is suddenly scrambling to make sure he doesn’t know anything else off the table

Tries to compose himself but can’t help the boyish smile and laugh that escapes him

You’re just such a lovely, fascinating person! He’s so happy to have you. His life seems eternal but you make it so fresh and new! His heart just bursts with love and delight.

Is no longer worried about the food or pushing in your chair for you. Offers his lap instead. “I have an opening for that,” he assures, pulling you onto his lap.

Diavolo likes to think he’s thoughtful about taking you on the floor because Barbatos doesn’t have much to clean up.

If your stomach grumbles after you’re settled and sleepy, he pulls himself off your body long enough to grab a plate from the table and put it beside your head.

Demons have more stamina and it would be un-princely of him not to spoil you, so he feeds you until you’re too sleepy to eat.

Barbatos

It’s exhausting to be able to see multiple timelines and see into the future.

He never knows how far into the future he’s seeing, or if it’s in the timeline he’s currently in

All he knows is he heard you ask him for dick and almost dumped the wrong thing in the soup, okay?

Had to excuse himself and ask someone on the cooking team to take over for him while he “dealt with another matter” (laughed it out where no one could hear him)

I’m not sure if Barbatos is considered a student at RAD, but Diavolo must be too. We’ll say he is. Boy is a master of self-discipline and scheduling so he’s fine. Flawless, as a butler should be. It carries over into all things.

It’s a delicate balance sometimes, but he’s type A and used to being busy so it works itself out. He does well.

Barbatos simply looks forward to having less to do. Focusing on Diavolo can be a job all its own.

He was planning on making a few sweets for Luke and the others. Diavolo suggested a “pot luck” to celebrate. It’s something the humans came up with and he seems to like it. It turns into sweets for the pot luck

Probably makes you a special mini-dessert or a special portion of the dessert

If he’s in control of plate presentation, you might get a special sauce heart of chocolate heart

When Diavolo is generous enough to include him in the celebration (because he deserves it and you’re there, so it’d be cruel not to), Barbatos makes small talk and woos you subtly

You ask him to “show you where to take the dishes” to get him alone. He can feel it in his little demon bones. You’re about to do it.

You do it.

You’re basically vibrating with excitement because you probably planned this and think you’re very clever. Human enthusiasm is so darling and it makes his heart pitter-patter to think you were simply bursting to ask HIM this.

“But of course,” he helps you stack the plates and guides your hand to the silverware sorter because you’re looking at him instead of what you’re doing. You almost put a fork in the spoon section. “Covered in chocolate? Plain?”

He’s trying to one-up you. He loves seeing his human change colors and not know what to do.

You whisper “I prefer wet,” back in his ear and Barbatos wonders how he didn’t see THAT in any of his visions

You: 1, Barbatos: 0. Helpless. Defenseless. Horny.

“That will be ready shortly,” he’s already pulling you away, down the hall, to meet your request.

Solomon

It wouldn’t serve him to do poorly in the Devildom. Basically wasted opportunity

He’s not a straight A student but he does well. Really pulls out the stops on major projects and things that are worth more points than others

Isn’t perfect at everything but makes up for it. Solid B’s, always really close to A’s. At least a couple low A’s.

Solomon doesn’t quite know how he wants to celebrate. He knows Asmo’s already pestering him to go shopping or clubbing

He’s considering it. He’d like to drink, honestly

You show up, light of his life, his favorite person, and he feels himself warm with joy

He revels in being the only other human in the Devildom. It makes your relationship that much more special, he thinks. It’s kind of stupid, but it’s something to coyly hold over the others whenever he sees fit. All in play, of course (not).

“I got all A’s! Can I have some dick?”

Pretends to think and looks anywhere but your face. If he looks at your face he’ll blush himself stupid and won’t be able to say anything smart.

He can’t lie. He’s already hard. He appreciates humor and wit and you’re all of it.

Very bold of you to come onto him like that, and he’s 100% for it.

“Can you take it?” Solomon wishes he said something smoother, that he wasn’t already slipping between your legs and grinding against you like the weak man he was. He doesn’t regret it though because the friction is good. Something you both need.

He whispers against your skin and gives you light, sloppy kisses with a hint of teeth.

He gives, and he’s generous. He wants to reward your efforts.

Simeon

Simeon makes it a point of personal pride to do well in the Devildom

That’s the utmost symbol of peace and understanding, isn’t it? To embrace their culture and livelihood and do well? To do well means he’s understanding them and walking in their shoes. It’s only right

He works hard and does well. Doesn’t stress himself out with A’s since he’s keeping up his grades because it’s required. He’d rather reconnect with the brothers and try to help Luke enjoy the Devildom.

He’s happy to spend his free time taking Luke to places in the Devildom, trying to visit the House of Lamentation, and maybe working on some things for TSL since editors are clamoring for more

You stop by because he’s been fairly quiet, wrapped up in his favorite writing sweater with his little editing glasses on

Simeon smiles and greets you with his little ‘Hi, angel’ as he kisses your hand.

Boy almost breaks his favorite pen when you ask him for...for dick?

He’s not absolutely clueless but this boy has been in ‘holy angel’ mode for centuries. He struggles with texting and stickers and you expect him to know slang?!

So confused he takes his glasses off. Boy can’t comprehend

“You’re asking me to procure one? Like...the ones humans use from those stores? You want mine? Well, I certainly hope so because we’re--oh...”

He could write books of poetry about you, and though he doesn’t like to admit it, he’s had those thoughts

“Well,” he’s standing up from his chair and guides you so gently to his bed it’s like you’re floating on a cloud. He lays you down just as gently, fabrics whispering as he slips out of his sweater and it pools at his feet. “I wouldn’t be a very good angel if I ignored the wishes of my dear human, would I?”

Doesn’t really see the point of sex as a reward, but will never turn down a moment to show how cherished you are.

Hope you liked it :)

#Obey me!#Obey me! x Reader #Obey me x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Levi x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Satan x Reader #Asmodeus x Reader #Asmo x Reader #Beel x Reader #Beelzebub x Reader #Belphie x Reader #belphegor x reader #Simeon x Reader #Diavolo x Reader #Barbatos x Reader #Solomon x Reader

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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

Fallout 3 companions react to the Lone Wanderer getting in contact with the Followers of the Apocalypse and asking to join them. (Possibly resulting in the creation of a Capital Wasteland chapter of the Followers?)

With the Enclave in full retreat and the Brotherhood of Steel officially installed at the Jefferson Memorial and Adams Air Force Base, the kid from Vault 101 seemed to be adrift. They wandered from Megaton to Underworld, Canterbury Commons to Rivet City, helping those they met along the way as they always had but growing more and more despondent with each passing day. "It's just me out here," they would mutter to themselves occasionally, after particularly tough run-ins with raiders or wasteland vermin. "What am I supposed to do?"

That question didn't have an easy answer, or so they thought. Then, like a lighthouse cutting through fog, a summons on Galaxy News Radio brought them to Three Dog, who parked the Lone Wanderer in an office chair and jammed a set of headphones over their ears. The kid talked for days, tuned to different frequencies, scribbled notes on every piece of paper within reach, and their missing smile gradually returned. When they finally stood up and gathered their thoughts together, a new dream came from their lips like a sermon: "There's a group on the West Coast that heard about me. They're called the Followers of the Apocalypse, and they help people. They like what I've done so far, and they want me to start a chapter here in the Capital Wasteland. I want to do this."

Butch DeLoria: Butch stared at them, flabbergasted. "You... haven't we... what more do you think you owe to these people?"

The kid he used to bully sighed. "What do I owe to anybody, Butch? This isn't about settling a debt. I think it's pretty clear now that I can make changes around here, big changes, and this is just another opportunity to do that."

"But why?" Butch pulled out a comb and ran it through his hair, visibly anxious. "So you purified the water, ran those Enclave upstarts out of town. Leave it there. Kill anyone who tries to jump you on the road, and stop worrying about everyone else."

"I..." The Lone Wanderer clenched their fist, unclenched it. "I can't. If I can make things better for everyone, I have to."

"Well that's not what Tunnel Snakes are about," Butch replied angrily. He seized his traveling pack, shook out his leather jacket and headed for the radio station's door. "You change your mind, you can find me at the Muddy Rudder."

The door slammed behind him. Three Dog, who'd been eavesdropping from the next room, poked his head in. "Is your friend coming back?"

"Ugh." The Lone Wanderer sank into their chair again. "Give it an hour or two. He'll come around. Probably when he runs into the super mutants in Georgetown."

Charon: Charon nodded. "As you wish."

The Lone Wanderer pressed a hand to their forehead in exasperation. "Okay, I tried to phrase that as openly as I could so I could get your thoughts, but I realize now that I should've just said... Charon, what do you actually think about this idea?"

The ghoul shrugged. "I don't."

"Come on Charon, there has to be something-"

"Fine." Charon rolled his eyes. "It's more of the same. More time on the road, more time building up and securing settlements, more time spent fending off attacks from those who want your stuff. I'd say you're also more likely to die, but you've defied my expectations before."

"And..." the Lone Wander pressed. "Are you okay with that?"

Charon, who was still unused to this kid's attempts to include him in decision-making, glared at them. "I am."

They studied each other silently. The Lone Wanderer broke first. They always did. "I'm not going to order you to do this with me."

"You don't have to," Charon reassured them. Half-facetious, half-sincere. "That's not how this works."

Clover: Clover examined her nails, clearly not that interested. "So what's the angle, lover?"

"Clover..." the Lone Wanderer hesitated. "What if it's not an angle? What if we just... did this?"

Clover stuck her tongue out playfully. "Whatever, honey. You probably have some scam cooked up already. Lure them out here, take their stuff, feed them to a deathclaw... you're such a tease."

"Uh-huh." Her companion crossed their arms. "A real scam. Like that time I used a GECK to purify the DC basin. Or that time I led a giant robot to fight the Enclave and eventually took over their crawler. Or that time I rescued a bunch of slaves from Paradise Falls. Clover, we've been on the road together a while. You know I'm not like that."

"I know, I know..." Clover trailed off and looked away. "S'just that I need a good story to tell when you take me back to Eulogy. Otherwise..."

The Lone Wanderer dropped their headset and took her hand. "You're not going back there. Ever. You hear me? You don't belong to that motherfucker anymore. You don't belong to anyone."

Clover still couldn't meet their gaze, but her eyes filled up with tears. "Mmm-hmm. Sure, lover."

Star Paladin Cross: The Star Paladin smiled. "I've encountered the Followers. They bring a noble cause to the wasteland, even if they stretch themselves too thin."

"Well, the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood is stretched too thin right now." The chapter's newest Knight sank back against the desk they'd been tethered to for the better part of the last 48 hours. "Scribe Bigsley is tearing his hair out about water caravans, the Enclave still has holdouts in the area, and Elder Lyons..."

They trailed off and sighed. "We need help. I don't know if I can be a Follower and a Knight, but I know they're more open to working with me because of Elder Lyons' decision to break with the High Elders. We have the same mission: To help the people of the wasteland."

"Our missions are similar, but there are a few fundamental differences," Cross corrected them. "The Followers emphasize the sharing of knowledge and learning, while the Brotherhood seeks to protect it. That said, your assessment of the Elder's decision for our chapter is apt. Perhaps we have opened ourselves up to common ground, in our desertion of our primary mission."

"Right." The Lone Wanderer nodded. "We're deserters. Let's use it. I'll start making plans and a list of potential recruits. I'll start with Reilly's Rangers and the Temple of the Union and get some leads."

Dogmeat: The mutt that accompanied the Lone Wanderer wherever they went barked, excited by his owner's excitement. The noise drew Three Dog's attention from the other room.

"Kid, I'm trying to run a radio station here," he said, leaning on the door frame with a mug of steaming tea in his hand. "Don't get your little buddy too riled up. Fight the good fight and all that, but do it outside."

"Sorry, Three Dog." The Lone Wanderer dropped to their knee and scratched the mutt's back and neck. "Just thinking out loud."

"You take their deal?" the DJ asked, before taking a sip from the mug.

The kid grinned. "You bet your ass I did."

Fawkes: The super mutant that had shadowed the kid since Vault 87 nodded sagely. "These Followers. Would there be room within their organization for an individual such as myself?"

The Lone Wanderer shrugged. "I didn't ask. The woman on the radio made a point of saying they were okay with ghouls, but she didn't say anything about mutants in general. I've heard that the mutants out west are more like you though, so probably?"

"Then I would like to be the first to sign up for your new chapter," Fawkes replied.

"Okay." The kid from Vault 101 grinned. "Great. Even if they aren't good with mutants, it's my chapter, and I say it's okay. It's not like they're going to be peering over my shoulder."

"And what do you intend to christen your first project?" Fawkes asked.

"Hmmm." The Lone Wanderer scratched their head. "Well, after recruitment and finding a base of operations, I think we should help stabilize the water caravan system. From there we can move on to tackling the slave trade."

Fawkes chuckled. "'From a small seed a mighty trunk may grow.' Then let us begin."

Jericho: The retired raider, who had been taking a nap in one of the office chairs, snapped awake with a snort and grabbed his assault rifle. "Who-whatsit?"

"Chop-chop." The Lone Wanderer tossed him his pack and punched him playfully on the shoulder. "We're going to shake up the Capital Wasteland hierarchy a bit."

"Well, that sounds like something worth getting up for," Jericho replied, somewhat more agreeable. "Where are we going?"

"Seward Square," they answered, throwing their own pack over their shoulder. "I know a crew over there that might be interested in helping."

"Reilly's gang?" Jericho stopped them. "Wait a minute. This isn't more of your usual goody two-shoes shit, is it? I told you, I was done after the business with the Enclave. Can't we just roll into a settlement and take their chems like the good old days?"

"Thought you were awake, Jericho." The Lone Wanderer smacked him on the cheek a couple of times. "You want to sit on top of the Capital Wasteland, you have to make yourself indispensable. Capisce?"

"Oh, fuck you," Jericho grumbled. "Should've kicked you off my steps back in Megaton, kid."

Sergeant RL-3: "Sir, yes sir!" the Mister Gutsy agreed. "Anything for our good old Uncle Sam!"

"Right then, soldier," the Lone Wanderer replied at the same level of enthusiasm. "Pack our gear and have this place spotless, on the double!"

"All recruits will be responsible for their own bunks!" Sergeant RL-3 shot back, before moving to retrieve the traveling packs from where they'd been stashed away.

Three Dog, who was watching from the door, shook his head with a grin. "I need to get me one of those models."

"Well, I know a guy out by Tenpenny Tower that might have a bot with your name on it," the Lone Wanderer offered. "Or at least the parts to build one."

"No time to dilly-dally, sir!" Sergeant RL-3 commented from across the room.

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ficsnroses · 4 years

Text

Away - John Wick x Reader

prompt : just some headcanons about how John and reader stay intimate while he’s away working!

warnings : smut. nudity n fluff n stuff hehe

notes : this was requested by a lovely reader who wanted nsfw headcanons that involve distance. please go easy on me, I've been slowly writing these for the past two weeks while simultaneously studying for exams. hope everyone had an amazing halloween! xx

I know its not my best work and its super disorganized, I really just wanted to have something out! I enjoyed writing them though, and it was nice to not care not have to worry about a storyline please be kind ily

Recently, John had been away on a long job. Two months of distance had been awful; you’d spent practically every waking moment together for the past 4 years you’d been together.

For the past two months, you’d been ecstatic to have him back, and he in return had been awaiting the day he’d finally be able to hold you again;

to see you for real, in front of him, to kiss you, to feel that warm chill that entices his bones each time his lips find yours, to fall asleep next to you, where he belongs, to sigh through whispered laughs and quiet kisses in the dark.

To make love to you, something he hadn’t been able to do for far too long.

The distance was tough; perhaps the greatest of plights was being unable to physically show you how much he needs you, how much he wants you.

This relationship was something special; something just yours, and his. And that was the most wonderful part of all;

This little piece of glory, was just yours, and his.

You recall the first time you’d made love to him, after a couple months of seeing each other. You remember, he’d grinned at your every joke, you’d pulled him closer with every twitch of his mouth. His lips had adorned each inch of your skin; the painted marks and intimate bruises bedecked across each other’s skin had made you both blush rosy hues the next morning; awoken by the warm morning glow kissing your bodies; nestled together in the beautiful morning’s haven.

Since, you’d spent countless nights together. Sex was your way of showing each other love, the intimacy was something you both needed.

However, neither of you had planned on John needing to be away from you for an extra month last minute; a tougher job at hand than initially thought.

“I can’t believe we need to wait another month.” You soundlessly whisper over the phone line, a hand rested to your chest, tired eyes frowning, the thought of being away from your love for longer than intended feeling like a cut to your heart.

“I know baby. I’m sorry.” He explains, voice beautifully rich, smoked, yet held with that certain warm affection, reserved uniquely for you. “Please don’t forget how much I love you.”

It had begun to feel lonely around the house, two months of fetch with Dog and lonesome nights burrowed in on the couch were beginning to not avail; the smell of John’s skin had been fading away unsteadily.

His pillow had begun to rid of that special scent of his aftershave,

The smell of his preferred coffee roast had begun to remind you of him being near, when you’d brew a pot in thought of his hands curled around yours on easy mornings, the way he’d quietly sip, fingers tracing yours; a desperate attempt to feel him around when he wasn’t physically there by you.

Through daily calls, check up and check ins, texts, and videos, you’d been making do, however.

John would call you at breakfast each morning to make sure you’d slept well and ate something; he’d never let his weary head fall pressed to his own pillow without a call to tell you he loves you, and thought of you while passing a flower shop earlier.

John thinks of you all day, each day spent away. It went to show how much you’d really become part of him, part of what matters to him.

In the little things; such as when he sits down for his afternoon coffee. The Continental had been home to him for a long time before he’d met you; it held people he knew, collogues, associates. For many, work means anything but home. But for John, John Wick, who constituted nothing more than the last face damned souls saw before darkness, it felt as if all he knew.

He found familiarity within the crème, golden marbled walls and weary eyes that feared him.

Now, however, after meeting you, falling in love with you, he thinks to himself, sitting in the café of the hotel as the silver spoon swirls a clink in the fine china coffee cup.

That this, this simple thing he does on routine afternoons, would be much better with his heavenly love nestled into his side.

Would be sweeter with the weight of your smaller hand held around his. Would be warmer, with the sound of your sweet giggle tuneful on the tip of your tongue as you smile, and smile at one of his corny jokes.

You’d been sending him pictures of Dog, and little projects you’d been working on day to day. You’d been calling him to make sure he’d taken care, that he’d been tending to any littered mauve bruises and resting up. You’d been asking him to be kind to himself; something you’d often have to do for him, because your John, had never done so to himself.

You love each other, so you’d been making do.

Needless to say, having John physically not around had built up much pent up…frustration.

It had been two months since you’d had sex, and you’d swore you’d been finding yourself driven a little crazier each day without. John felt the same; lonesome nights spent alone in the solitude walls of the continental without you by his side had been proving harsh.

Of course, you’d been making do. The intimacy John and you shared was something special, something only you and him had the right to relish in. Addicting, mesmerising, that intimacy was something neither of you were willing to give up; thousands of miles of distance between or not.

On a quiet weeknight evening, a finished job lays completed behind, a tired John finding refuge in the deep pleated sheets of his king sized bed. With his slacks kicked off and discarded below, he knows tonight would require something more than the sting of an amber Bourbon enjoyed alone;

Tonight he’d need release; and he’d needed it to come with the sight of you, your voice a sonata on the other end.

Phone sex had been a reoccurring theme upon your time spent apart;

John works hard,

John has needs. And the only person that can take care of him, had always been only you.

When at home, John often found himself dreading the haul of his worn out limbs, basking in the quietude of the house after a finished job forgotten behind. His favourite way to wind down of course,

involved being buried between your thighs; deep, whenever he wanted, however he wanted. The safest, warmest, most liberating haven he’d had the pleasure of enjoying sanctuary within.

Being away from you however, John often found himself needing your voice on the other end, to let the grisly deeds of the day wash away, allow a melting warmth to cascade over each hungering inch of his body.

“Hi baby,” You’d purr on the other end, perhaps sprawled upon your shared California King, or nestled within the steaming hues of a well needed soak in the master bath. “Are you touching yourself, John?” sultry, bewitching, his eyes roll to the back of his head, breathy gasps and hallow exhales fleeing to the sound of your inquisitive lips on the other end of the phone line. “Pull your cock out for me, baby.” You instruct, finding a burn throb to your feverishly heating center, allowing two measly fingers to explore yourself as you hear him twitch on the other end.

His eyes drift shut, and he remembers the feeling of you. he remembers the way your sweet, sweet pussy moulds perfectly just to him; just for him.

You’d purr, and hum, sending vibrations tingling down the column of his neck, his manhood yearning to remember the feel of your wet, sloppy lips taking well care of him, just as you’d done hundreds of times before. His palm lazily laps his shaft, tightening, pumping and pumping, chasing the memory of you as he swirls thin drops of seeping pre cum douse his glistening tip to the sound of your voice.

“Fuck, sweetheart” His tender cock jolts, hard erect to a pounding ache. “I need you so much.” his buttery voice allows, falling back on tired bones with his creamy release sputtered onto crisp white bed sheets. The bed falls hallow, the spot to his left where your body should be nestled, vacant.

That vacant spot kills him a little more each day. Chips away at his sanity just a little more, day by day. Each inch of him longs for you, each part waits for the time he’ll finally find you buried within his arms, and he swears, when it happens,

He’ll never let you go.

He’ll hold you all night, he’ll make up for each lost kiss.

He’ll steal quiet laughs, tender touches in the dark, and he’ll remember; that he has a home to come to now. That someone hopes, waits for him each second he’s away.

Of course, being each other’s meant seeing things only the other had the right to see.

The first time John ever sent a nude had been to you. Although tech savvy, John hadn’t paid much attention to his phone and the world it opened, before it had become a portal to you when he’d have to be away.

You however, had been sending him countless pictures, whenever time allowed.

John worshipped you, John fell so wholly in love with every single inch of your skin, your mind, your spirit.

And you best believe he’d never let that little bit of madness die; even if far away physically.

You take pictures for John often, for his prying eyes to relish. Fully nude, fully on display for him to see, to devour.

Whether it be embellished in deliciously embroidered lingerie that compliments all the exquisite curves of your figure, or completely bare, pert breasts free, accompanied by smooth, satin skin falling in channeled glows.

You adore modelling all your favourite lingerie pieces for John, most of them being things he picked out for you.

Lingerie shopping with John was a treat of the kindest; the way he’d watch you try on all the skimpy laced pieces, the sweet symphony of his quiet, warm lips on your neck as his palms glaze over your figure send shivers down your spine in remembrance.

“Get it all, baby. I can’t wait to take these off you tonight.” He’d whisper in your ear, earnest, rich.

John saves each and every picture you send him. For John, nothing compares to the way the mere sight of your body causes a tent to rise in his pants.

To feel lucky was an understatement. As he sits alone, phone equipped in stocky hand, he opens the album locked away, hidden in his phone, filled full with nothing but pictures you’ve sent him.

John’s camera roll is already brimmed with the golden glow of your beautiful smile, even his lock screen captures a striking sight of you, candidly posing with Dog. His two favourite things in his favourite picture ever.

But this secret album…this album is something only his eyes may see. These are pictures of all of you, for the taking. Each tender swell, delicate curve of your chest, the perk of your nipples, that searing sulteur in your eyes when you take pictures for him this way. Everything is locked away, hidden. Kept secure for him to see, whenever, wherever he needed the sight of your heavenly figure to get him a quick fix.

Of course, John and you have also done frequent video calls. Most often, they compose of catching up, or perhaps a dinner shared over the blue lit screen with your love, or a pre bedtime video chat to catch up, to tell him you love him.

That was something John missed the most. Spending time with you in the most mundane of ways; sipping on a cup of morning French roast as his hand holds yours, the other absentmindedly browsing the newspaper.

But sometimes,

The videos were a bit more intimate.

“Lay back and touch yourself, sweetheart.” A raspy voiced John whispers, heavy cock sheathed in his hand as his eyes gloss over the screen, where the image of you on the other end sits, decorated in his favourite black babydoll. “Show me what you do when I’m not there.” The sound of his inquisitive voice is killing you, and a whimper falls your throat when you watch the throb of his sizeable cock seeping those much familiar drops of pre cum in his hand. He touches himself as well, tenderly, slowly, eyes never leaving you.

You miss cumming together with John. Video chats provided a quick fix indeed, yet compared nothing to the weight of his body on yours, his rosy skin sticking with your supple, silky touch.

You miss sex with John far too much to comprehend, far too much to explain. Each part of it, the burning pain you feel when the bulk of his cock glides into you, the way his impending tip grinds your G spot. The way he eats you out, lapping your nectar as his tongue expertly flicks your folds, hands graciously soothing over your thighs. You miss the sounds of his mouth, the wetness, the slicking, his soft moans and heartfelt groans. You miss the way he builds that long inside your stomach; the way his generous length dips in inch by inch, slowly, leaving you practically gushing and quivering for him before he’s even picked up pace. You miss the sound of the bed creaking to his hasty thrusts in the middle of the night, your arms and legs securely rapped around him as he pounds into you, the sounds of skin slapping skin and his moans mixed with your yelps ceasing the room. And the best part of it all,

You miss the way his hand would never let go of yours through it all. You yearn for the ache John leaves between your legs. You miss being reminded of him for days when he’d fuck you oh so well.

Until then however, John invested in a few sex toys to keep his lady satisfied while he’s away. His favourite of the bunch, being a pair of vibrating panties controlled from the comfort of his phone.

His mouth almost envies the set for being able to satisfy you the way he longs to. To be able to taste you the way he craves.

On a particularly stifling evening, he’d asked you to go to bed wearing them, only to awaken you the next morning with the feel of them sending wavelengths of pleasure building in your core. John had been increasing the intensity on the other end, the same way he’d make music with his lips pressed to your clit.

“John…John please..” you’d wail, squirming, knowing he’d be hot and aroused to the sounds you’d spill just for him.

With a phone call in-between, he’d listened to your tender moans and gaspy sighs. Your cries of his name had gotten him through the day, had him hunger for the evening when he’d call you once again, only to have you whisper sinful yearnings in his ears, as the nights before.

The distance had been tough, and it would continue to be.

But it would be so worth it, to soon have the man of your dreams back where he’d belonged.

John would remind you daily of how everything he did, had only been for you. Everything your boulder of a man does, is only for you.

His love runs deep, perhaps deeper than you know.

You await the day you’d be able to find yourself tucked away in his embrace in the midnight eve, pillow talk on mind, soft giggles let into the night. You wait for the day you’ll be able to know he’s safe, beside you. that he’s dreaming of sunshine and waterfalls, that he’s resting at last, pressed to your chest.

But until then, you wait. You wait, with murals and daydreams of nothing but him, painting your thoughts;

and frequent check ins, soft ‘I love you’s’ over a much too distant phone line, having to suffice.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

My taglist will be posted in reblogs, let me know if you want to be added or removed! :)

#john wick x reader #keanu reeves x reader #john wick imagine #john wick fanfic #john wick x y/n

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azurika-writes · 4 years

Text

Starstruck

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: you win a competition for a tour around the compound with a group of other winners and a meet and greet with the Avengers afterwards. You’re there to meet your idol, Bucky Barnes but he gets swarmed by other people who are there to meet him and so you almost miss your chance, until Steve Rogers sees the desperation in your face, he comes to your rescue.

Warnings: this is a slow burn one shot, Bucky is your idol, language, Tony can’t mind his own business for a minute and is rude, sweet Bucky :)

Words: 4,215 (holy shit)

Authors Notes: I don’t know why this is so long holy shit, it’s my first slow burn fic I’ve written so far instead of drabbles. This idea came to me in a daydream and I don’t know if anything like this has previously been written but regardless, I hope you enjoy and feedback is more than welcome as always :)

It was a big day for you, full of excitement and nerves as you glanced down at your VIP pass. It wasn’t often you won these competition things, and you don’t really know why you participated, maybe it had something to do with a certain superhero that was listed to be apart of the special meet and greet or maybe it wasn’t that reason but you’re glad you did as you were one of 5 winners. Winning a special tour of the Avengers compound and then meeting the superheroes in the flesh afterwards.

You were most excited to meet one particular superhero. The one with the black and gold vibranium arm and the shaggy hair and a full-grown beard covering his adorable cheeks. The one you’ve read and studied so much about the last couple of years.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. Former veteran soldier, former Howling Commando, survivor.

You surprised yourself because, history books, you would normally find quite boring, but knowing he was apart of that era made it all that more interesting and you became hooked, infatuated even as you researched every detail about the war he was apart of, understanding what he had to endure during his time in captivity, the ins and outs of his and Steve’s friendship, the good and the bad. The further you dug into his life, the more your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

The more recent interviews of him, you wouldn’t believe he was once a different man. You half expected him to be this closed-off person with no interest in the public whatsoever but to your utter shock and surprise, Bucky was so down to earth. Paying close attention to the interviewer’s questions. Answering them in-depth with so much philosophy behind his words. You watched hours upon hours of YouTube videos of Bucky meeting with fans, he took pictures and smiled for the photo. Autographed their merchandise. Bucky was always smiling, despite everything he had been through. You followed him on Instagram and Twitter. He’s never noticed you, but some other lucky fans were noticed, it didn’t bother you because you preferred not to have the attention, you looked forward to seeing his posts, stories and tweets he puts up for the world to see.

You admired him. You wanted to tell him face to face just how strong he was. The strong soldier has endeavoured so much in his life. Hydra stealing his freedom away from him, turning him into their own little puppet. He deserved this peaceful life he was being given.

You wanted to meet Bucky Barnes and here was your chance, you just hoped you wouldn’t trip over your words once you finally did. You held the folder that contained handwritten stories, artwork and letters of encouragement that you wanted to give to Bucky as a gift and a picture you wanted to be signed under your arm.

You hung the pass around your neck as you waited with the crowd outside the large black iron gates. A muscled and tall security walked over a few moments afterwards and asked for everyone’s names, checking them off the piece of paper he had in his hand on a clipboard.

“Please pay attention to any instructions you’re given. Please stick together. Do NOT venture off on your own. If you do NOT comply with any rules, you will be asked to leave. Any questions?” The security guard asked and there were mutters of no’s from everyone in the group. “Alright, follow me please.” You all followed the man in silence, occasionally glancing at the other people.

The iron gate that was hinged upon two stone pillars opened easily and quietly. And once everyone was inside, it was closed with an echoing ‘clang’, momentarily startling you. The security guard walked ahead and led the group up a really long pebbled footpath. The bright green grass on either side of the path was littered in gorgeous flowers and blossoming cherry blossom trees. Your feet scuffing across the stones as you walked, taking in the scenery around you. The place was absolutely magical, if someone was to describe it to you, you would think they were just fantasising. Something that you would absolutely do As you continued walking, to your left was a large space where the quinjets were receiving their maintenance from engineers. The large A on the front of the building came into view. The place looked enormous, larger than you ever expected.

You almost stumbled into the person in front of you. It was only then you realised everyone had stopped walking and was waiting near the doors.

The security guard turned around one final time. “Alright everyone’s attention, please. As I mentioned previously, please stick together. Do not be tempted to break away from the group and roam around by yourself. Please abide by these simple rules. Other than that, have fun and enjoy your experience. Mr Stark himself will take the guide over once you’re inside.” And with that, the guard flashed his key-card and the large glass doors opened. He stepped aside and motioned for everyone to go in.

The lobby was probably the biggest you’ve ever seen imaginable. Even pictures from Pinterest couldn’t compare to the sheer size of this. The floors and walls were marbled. Workers behind their desks typing away on their computers and phones ringing off the hook.

The ding from the elevator caught everyone’s attention. Excitement bubbled up within you. You knew it was most likely to be Mr Stark since he was going to be the tour guide from here, but something in you wished for a moment it would be Bucky Barnes.

But when the doors opened on the lavished elevator, it, of course, wasn’t. You hoped your disappointment wasn’t too noticeable.

“You’re the groups of winners?” Tony wondered, pulling up his tablet to check the list of names. He called each name out one at a time to receive a stamp on their wrist. Once everything was validated, Tony led the way. The group following him closely but quietly.

“As you folks can see, this is the lobby. We currently have over 10,000 staff employed in this area alone with over 200 security guards.”

“Why do you have so many?” A man from your group asked Tony.

“Because we’re the Avengers, you don’t know who is out there to harm there. Hydra could walk through those doors at any given time. Moving on.” Tony walked towards the staircase, he explained it was because of maximum weight capacity in the elevator. The stairwell was echoed and so many stairs. You were quite winded when you got to the top.

“Are you alright there, Y/N is it? Do you need a medic?” You didn’t know whether Tony was joking or being serious, but you took quite a few deep breaths and shook your head no.

“Alright. So welcome to the main floor. Here we have the common room, debriefing room, offices, a kitchen and numerous bathrooms along the hall.” Tony explained, pointing to each doorway down the long and narrow hallway. This was the floor of the common room? Bucky Barnes could be here, he could be through those doors, and that thought alone made your heart jump in your throat.

“What is the common room used for?” A younger lady asked Tony.

“The common room is where we, The Avengers hang out, unwind and relax after kicking ass. Follow me.”

In the near distance, you could hear hushed voices as Tony led the group into the actual common room. It was empty besides two people; Clint and Natasha. Two superheroes you easily recognized.

“I wonder where Bucky is?” You leaned in and asked the girl standing next to you. She smiled back politely, “I haven’t seen anyone yet. They are due for the meet and greet right?” She asked you. With a nod of your head, you noticed Tony had stopped talking and was looking in your direction.

“If you two are done with your conversation.” You both muttered an apology. “This is Natasha and Clint, our finest heroes. You’ll meet them and everyone else a bit later, let me show you the kitchen area.” Tony led the group further into the compound. The architecture was just incredible and out of this world. It was something you never really expected.

Tony showed you every nook and cranny of the compound; The indoor swimming pool with sauna and jacuzzi, the gym on the lower floor, the sleeping quarters one or two floors up, and he showed you the helipad where the quinjets received their maintenance and checks before takeoff.

“Have you guys enjoyed yourselves?” Tony asked as he led you all once again into the common room, where this time more voices were heard. Everyone answered incoherently but you decided to keep quiet, afraid of getting told off again by Tony. “It’s been a pleasure having you.” He sighed, stopping just outside the door of the common room. “Now is the time you’ve been waiting for. You will have a chance to meet each superhero and please, don’t be shy. They are not as scary as they seem.” Tony winked, opening the door and motioning for all of you to walk through. As you were about to walk through, Tony grabbed your wrist and held you back. For a moment you were worried you would be denied this opportunity to meet your hero, “Are you alright? You’ve been the quietest out of the group.” Tony consoled.

“I’m fine, I’m just taking everything in.” You smiled and Tony nodded, letting go of your wrist, allowing you through the door and once you did and made eye contact with those baby blues, you almost died. You became starstruck and it was almost impossible to peel your eyes away from him. In a line next to him stood the Avengers in their casual clothes, each with a glowing smile on their faces as they saw the pure shock on the group’s faces.

“Hi and welcome!” Wanda smiled ushering everyone forward.

“Hi, Wanda. I’m your biggest fan.” One of the girls gushed as she stepped towards Wanda, tears running down her cheeks. You watched the group approach the one superhero they wanted to meet the most, you didn’t anticipate 3 other girls would approach and crowd Bucky so quickly. But the guy took it well, smiling and talking to them as he answered their questions, they were giggling and no doubt flirting. You stood back awkwardly, unsure about what to do.

“Hey, kid. Are you gonna meet anyone?” Tony asked amused as she stood next to you, pushing his glasses up his face.

“He’s kind of occupied.” You chuckled, your eyes wandering over to Bucky.

“Yeah, he usually gets all the ladies.” Tony chuckled, stepping away to help someone.

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach as you noticed more and more people were now waiting to meet the former Winter Soldier. He was a lot more popular than you had realized, and it was just a realization that maybe you weren’t meant to meet him. You instead chose not to waste this once in a lifetime opportunity and decided to approach Steve Rogers who was free from a crowd and he was your second favorite superhero.

“Hey!” He said smiling as you approached, his perfectly lined teeth on show. His T-shirt was pulled across his broad chest. Steve stretched a hand out for you to shake.

“Hi! How are you?” You asked politely, returning the firm handshake. His hand was silky smooth like he had dipped them in a butter dish prior to meeting everyone.

“Can’t complain. Got a few days off to enjoy the sunshine. What do you have there?” He pointed to the folder that you had under one arm.

“Oh, it’s kind of embarrassing but these are some things I wanted to gift to Bucky Barnes, but it looks like I won’t meet him.” You chuckled sadly, looking down at your feet.

“He’s the popular one with these greets. He really outshines us all, I’m sure he would really appreciate it though.” Steve comforted but knowing time was running out and people just kept swarming him. You pulled your lip between your teeth, desperately willing yourself not to let your true disappointment show, but you couldn’t help it. You would never get this opportunity again and Bucky was impossible to reach out to on social media with over 50 million followers on Instagram and a whopping 20 million on Twitter. Even if you did reach out, there were too many people trying to reach him, your messages and tweets would be swallowed. This just annoyed you since you were only a couple of feet from the man you’ve spent a long time learning everything about, sympathizing with and he was still out of reach.

Steve had been looking at your contour of emotions while you remained quiet. The folder under your arm was thick, he knew you were a genuine fan of Bucky’s and not just some fan girl who was here to flirt and try and get a hold of his personal number or request a follow on social media.

“May I take a look?” Steve asked, pointing to your folder. His voice startled you slightly and you nodded shamefully. There was far too much dedication in that folder and you were sure he was going to lecture you for being too invested in Bucky when Bucky didn’t know who you were. You passed him the folder and Steve quietly looked through, you watched his eyebrows rise and fall on occasion and small smiles here and there. You swallowed the lump in your throat and bounced on the balls of your feet.

“Alright, guys. That’s it, time is up! I really hope you all had a wonderful experience and could I please ask you all to calmly exit the common room and I’ll meet you in the hallway.” Tony spoke up and you panicked. Bucky was still laughing and joking with the girls and it was a moment lost. But Steve still hadn’t given you your folder back and you knew he must have heard Tony.

“See you later ladies!” Bucky called out to them as they waved and blew kisses. You heard Bucky chuckle, “Man I thought they’d never leave.” He told Clint before walking out after the group.

“Uh Y/N?” Tony started but Steve looked up with glossy eyes.

“Wait Tony, I’d like to keep her a while longer, don’t worry I’ll show her out afterwards,” Steve said, Tony was confused and you were confused, was there something he found in that folder that bothered him? Were you in trouble? Oh god, maybe your letters were too personal.

“Alright, freezer burn. Rest of you follow me please.”

One by one the avengers left, except for Steve. You were still standing in front of him awkwardly, your heart beating a thousand beats per minute. You noticed he was now taking his time flicking through your folder.

“This is really beautiful.” Steve complimented, he made sure Bucky was out of earshot before he continued, “You’ve spent so much time on this, your dedication, you really meant every word you think about him don’t you?” You knew he was referring to one of your many letters of encouragement, reminding him he’s human and a good man.

“I meant it.” You replied sheepishly.

“You should meet him, Y/N. He would love this so much.”

“I can’t. Tony has already kicked everyone out.” You chuckled, reaching for your folder but Steve wasn’t giving it back just yet.

“And I’ve already told him I wanted to keep you a while longer. You’ve clearly come here to see him and it’s only right you did. FRIDAY, where did Barnes disappear to?” Steve asked the disembodied AI.

“Sergeant Barnes is in his room, Captain Rogers.” Steve sighed and rubbed his neck.

“Please tell him to come back to the common room.”

“Yes sir.” The AI responded almost immediately.

“Cap? Can I have a word?” Tony walked through the door with his arms folded. Steve nodded and handed your file back to you.

Your heart rate was still accelerating at a dangerous speed once you were left alone in the common room with your folder clutched to your chest. You were still worried Steve found something that might have bothered him, you were confused why he wanted to keep you behind while everyone else had to leave and you didn’t understand why he wanted you to meet Bucky so badly, you were already given the opportunity and it didn’t happen.

Your thoughts froze when you heard heavy footsteps in the hallway and a tall, muscular figure round the corner with his hands shoved in his pockets. His eyebrows creased together when he saw it was just you in the room and not Steve.

“You’re still here?” Bucky asked, his eyes narrowed and you gulped, nodding your head. “Not keeping you hostage is he?” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. A smile grew on your face as he stepped closer to you. The purest of blue eyes you’ve ever seen in your life and they were looking right at you, one side of his shaggy hair was tucked neatly behind his ear and from this distance, you saw the dog tag chain around his neck and the tags clanking under his black Henley. This was your last opportunity to say what you wanted, to give him this folder, you knew you wouldn’t get this chance again and you were grateful to Steve for helping you out.

“I um… sorry I’m a mess.” You chuckled and blinked the tears away. It was like a reunion you weren’t really prepared for.

“It’s okay, let’s take a seat.” He motioned to the couches and you followed him. He sat on the coffee table opposite you and once you were ready and collected, you spoke more clearly.

“This is for you.” You handed your folder to him and he took it gracefully. “I um…” your voice came out shaky and nervous but you kept going, “I just really have to tell you that I think you’re wonderful, a true hero, one of my heroes and um, I never really thought I’d get this opportunity to meet you in person and definitely not, um one on one, this really means the whole world to me.” Tears were starting to run freely down your cheeks at this point and Bucky sighed happily.

“You know, I’m extremely grateful for wonderful people like you. I noticed you when you walked through the door but unfortunately, I got swamped and I felt kinda bummed out myself that I didn’t even get to say hi. Thanks for coming here today and staying behind. I’m really glad you did and thank you so much for this.” He waved the folder in his hand. “I’ll definitely take a good look through it later in the privacy of my own room.” He smiled.

“I do have one thing for you to sign if that’s okay?”

“Yes of course!” He shifted on the coffee table slightly and the wood cracked under his weight. Your hands immediately covered your mouth as you tried to suppress a giggle.

“If anyone asks… that wasn’t me.” He chuckled and stood up, choosing to sit next to you instead.

“What happened to the coffee table?” Tony asked as he reappeared through the doors. “You’re here an awfully long time Missy.” Tony pointed accusingly at you.

“Sam did it and leave her alone Tony. She has Steve’s permission to be here as well as mine.” Bucky glared and your cheeks heated up. “What did you want me to sign, doll?” Your heart almost choked on its own blood vessels at the pet name you knew very much about. It was more common in the 1940s and you wondered if Bucky or Steve ever used it today as an endearment to their women.

“Make sure she’s gone so-”

“Fuck off Tony. Excuse my language, doll.” God, was he trying to kill you?

“You... you called me ‘doll’.” your breath got caught stuck in your throat.

“Twice.” He winked.

Tony muttered under his breath as he left the common room with a weird looking android following him. Once you collected your thoughts, you pulled out one of your favorite pictures of Bucky that you had printed off the internet and handed it to him. Bucky reached into his pocket to pull out a sharpie and pulled the lid off with his teeth as he signed it. Your eyes slightly wandered over to his metal hand, it was the black and gold you loved so much. You remembered reading into so much detail about the different bionic arms, this one was made in Wakanda by Shuri herself with a lot of features that weren’t disclosed to the public. It looked more comfortable than the old silver arm with the red star which symbolized Hydra.

“There we go!” His voice startled you. Your eyes shot up to meet his own and you blushed under his stare.

“Th-thank you so much.” You stammered. Feeling hotter than a cookie baking in the oven.

“You’re welcome!” He smiled, clipping the lid back on the sharpie.

“Again, I really do appreciate this. Thank you for being so humble and I hope you find the letters encouraging.” You grinned looking down at the signed photo with a long message scripted on the back that you’ll read a little later.

“Well as I said, I really appreciate you for staying behind and for the folder. I can’t wait to look through it.”

“Could I… could I be cheeky and ask for a quick selfie with you?” You bit your lip nervously. You were prepared for him to say no and that you had outstayed your welcome, so you were a bit surprised when his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Yes!” You pulled your phone from your pocket and brought the camera app up. Bucky scooted in closer to you. “Tag me in it so I can add it to my story.” he smiled for the camera and you clicked the button, checking the photo to make sure it was good. You thanked him for the hundredth time.

“Okay, but I doubt you’d see it.” you chuckled and stood up, putting your phone back into your pocket.

“Why’s that?” He deadpanned and you chuckled.

“Um, sir. I don’t know if you know this but you have like 50 million people following you and probably 100 million DMing you to try and talk to you.”

“Hmm. You’re right, maybe I’ll have to try and find you then.” He winked and before you could react, Tony reappeared.

“I’m leaving,” you told him before he made another snarky comment about you still being there.

“If you’re ready, would you please follow me.” He started to walk towards the door but you, for some reason kept still in your spot, contemplating whether to throw your arms around his midsection and give him a hug or walk away and regretting not hugging him. You went with the first option, and Bucky, seemingly reading your mind already had his arms opened wide and embraced you gracefully. They were big and strong, just like you had anticipated. His cologne was like sandalwood and vanilla, mixed with spearmint. Daring yourself further, you reached up on your tiptoes and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

“Thank you, Bucky. It was a pleasure meeting you.” you smiled, pulling away from his embrace. He nodded curtly towards you. Tony huffed impatiently by the door and you reluctantly walked away from your hero.

Tony led you to the elevator since it was just the two of you. You felt the need to apologize for outstaying your welcome.

“Mr. Stark I’m so sorry for staying longer I-”

“Don’t stress kid. Cap explained everything, and don’t worry I almost guarantee Barnes will be in touch when he gets to the end of your folder.” you smiled but knowing that wouldn’t be true. Bucky probably wouldn’t think about you again after today. After all, he did receive hundreds and hundreds of gifts each week.

The lavished elevator dinged and you stepped out in sync. Tony nodded to the security guard and you handed your VIP pass back to him before he opened the large glass doors for you to exit.

“Thank you again, Mr. Stark.” You walked out, taking one last look of the compound before walking down the long pebbled path once again. Once you reached the iron gates, you gave the first security guard your name and he ticked you off the list, opening the gates and allowing you to exit.

“Have a nice day, Miss.” He said and you nodded with a small smile. You walked further down the sidewalk and stopped. Turning the photo Bucky had signed for you. Smiling greatly as you read it.

Dearest Y/N,

It’s not often I get fans like yourself. You’re truly one in a million and for the record, I’m glad Steve kept you behind, I’m glad he connected us. We will meet again soon, doll. Until then, please keep safe and please keep reaching out. I notice more than you think.

Best regards,

Bucky

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sparrowsabre7 · 3 years

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Ok this was in my drafts from ages ago and I forgot to post so it’s here now:

So with Arkham Knight completed I wanted to discuss the story and some of the things I liked about the plot.

For my money Arkham City is the most entertaining of the series plot-wise. It is wide in scope, incorporating a large group of Batman’s rogues, with a lead villain who has a commanding presence. It is the quintessential Batman plot, full of twists, focusing on his dynamic with the Joker and is a big ‘ol actionfest.

Arkham Knight’s plot on the other hand is quite pedestrian by comparison looking at the villain plot: Scarecrow wants to take down Batman and cause chaos in Gotham and a mysterious new villain appears to help. From this standpoint, Arkham Knight is nothing special. However, as a character study of Batman, it goes much deeper than any of the previous games, and deeper even than any of the films. Most of those dealt with “Why does Bruce Wayne become Batman?” whereas Knight asks the question “What does it mean to BE Batman?”

In this respect “Be the Batman” is more than just a marketing tagline. We really delve into what makes Batman and Bruce Wayne tick and their relationships with the world, their allies, and enemies.

We’re going to delve into big spoiler territory now so be ye warned.

Batman in this game is in an interesting place. Crime is supposedly lower than ever when Scarecrow’s plan starts falling into place, yet he’s hitting criminals harder than ever, working tirelessly in his war on crime. His modifications to the Batmobile make this immediately apparent, adding numerous heavy weapons and armour. One of the unlockable Arkham stories indicates that adding more weaponry has been something Batman has fought for years, according to Lucius, but he had a change of heart some point between City and Knight. We learn soon enough that Batman is on borrowed time. His blood is still infected with Joker’s own and is actually beginning to turn him. This is his last assault on crime, one final push if a cure cannot be found. As a result, he is pushing his allies further away than ever. This alienation was seen in a small way in the epilogue DLC “Harley Quinn’s Revenge”, keeping Robin at arm’s length and mostly avoiding contact with his allies entirely.

This is one of the key themes of the whole game and, personally, if I were to choose one word to sum up Arkham Knight it would be “family”. “Asylum”, “City”, and “Origins” were all solo efforts on Batman’s part, with some input in his ear from Oracle and Alfred, and a brief appearance by Robin. This is the first game to really have the Bat-family on board proper and this really informs a lot of the game and Batman’s motivations.

He pushes them away because he knows he’s dying. He pushes them away because he wants them to get used to the idea of him being gone. Most importantly, he pushes them away because he believes this will keep them safe. This is underlined when Scarecrow’s fear toxin kicks in. Thanks to the hallucinations provided by it, we are shown two of Batman’s greatest failures in his eyes, along with his raison d’etre: the crippling of Barbara Gordon, the torture and murder of Jason Todd, and the death of his parents. The former two are clearly never far from the dark knight’s thoughts and show why he genuinely does fear for his allies safety. This ends up, in the obvious ironic twist, putting them in greater danger. By keeping them at arm’s length and withholding his plans, the Batman is a less effective force. He doesn’t consider that they are safest together, working as a team. His allies come to his rescue a couple of times during the course of the game, Nightwing saving him from Penguin’s thugs, Catwoman saving him from an unwinnable fight against The Riddler, Oracle aiding him during the defence of the GCPD and Robin not saving him per se, but defusing some of the Johnny Charisma’s bombs while Batman is unable to move.

Another key subplot is Batman vs Joker. Even after his death, through his blood and the fear toxin, Joker is resurrected as a hallucination, a dark Jiminy Cricket pestering and needling the caped crusader at every turn. This is the ultimate Joker, no less potent for not being “real”. He represents everything Batman hates and fears, because he is not only The Joker, but the darkest parts of Batman’s mind, all the what ifs, the maybe should’ves, all of this tumbles out of Joker’s mouth, taunting the dark knight with his own insecurities. It shows Batman’s human side a lot more than any previous game, shows he can be afraid, he does have doubts, can fail, can falter. This is something which clearly plays across his mind throughout the game and leads him to the ultimate conclusion of the game which I will touch on in a bit.

The Joker has always been key to the Batman mythos. He was that in Batman #1 so nearly as long as the Batman has been in existence. Having him manifest as a facet of Batman’s subconscious is both a neat narrative trick (and way to skirt the “Joker is dead” thing without cheapening the end of “City”) and a useful dynamic in explaining who Batman is. Much of his existence has been spent battling The Joker and it’s clear that there is a side of Batman in “Knight” that almost misses him in a sense. His presence also plays up the yin-yang of their relationship and eventually culminates quite literally in a battle in Batman’s psyche.

Near the game’s ending Scarecrow unmasks Batman and injects him with a heavy dose of fear toxin. This causes Joker’s personality to be brought to the fore but at the same time empowers Batman’s own power of fear, showing the clown prince of crime his own greatest nightmare: being forgotten. This is ultimately delivered personally by Batman, bursting from the shadows of his own mind and subduing the Joker side, locking him away forever, enforcing this with the time tested phrase “I am vengeance, I am the night, I am Batman.” This is said, as another blogger pointed out, as much to himself as to The Joker. This is a declaration that he is Batman, he is no longer Bruce Wayne. To paraphrase “Batman Begins”, as Bruce Wayne he can fail, be killed, and simply die, which is when we come to the ending.

Upon the final villains being rounded up he initiates the Knightfall protocol and removes his mask. This is a clear symbolic gesture as he is leaving Batman behind on the rooftop with the Batsignal and reverting to Bruce Wayne. He flies back to Wayne Manor and it explodes, destroying the whole building. It’s not made explicit but it’s fairly evident that Bruce has faked his death, very publicly killing Bruce Wayne, now that he has been revealed as the alter ego of Batman. Gordon’s narration states that “this is how the Batman died” but it’s really how Bruce Wayne died.

The final scene shows Thomas, Martha and young Bruce Wayne stand-ins walking down an alley past a theatre, visually recreating Batman’s origin. There’s a gunman, there are broken pearls, this is the birth of Batman as we remember. This time however, Batman already exists. A shadow appears on the rooftop behind the criminals, towering high before spreading shadowy wings and fiery demon eyes alighting as it swoops towards them and cuts to black. It’s clear this is more than a symbolic statement as the criminals react to this “Knightmare” and are clearly terrified. Ultimately it’s up to interpretation, but I think, either it is The Batman in his purest form, shed of the Bruce Wayne identity, free to be more than human (with the use of Scarecrow’s fear toxin apparently), or it simply a psychological manifestation. After Scarecrow’s gas flooded Gotham’s streets, perhaps the residual effects left a lingering memory of Batman that was burned into their consciousness.

Either way it’s a true and final realisation of Bruce Wayne’s goal for the Batman. To become something eternal, supernatural even, that will watch over an protect

#batman #arkham knight #games #arkham trilogy

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danceing-spelled-wrong · 3 years

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Amant retrouvé(My yandere game concept)

I have this idea for a yandere type game. I don’t wish for any drama it’s just an idea but I do hope to make it, by just trying out coding

Mostly everything said here might not be used if I make it. But you know

Amant retrouvé is about a girl named Felicity Menrow falling in love with a boy/girl and doing anything to be with them

(game in a nutshell. Full story concept and more below)

Story:

A sweet, outgoing girl by the name of Felicity Menrow starts her 11th year of school. She attends a private preparatory school in Lyon, France that her parents sent her from America to get a better education

Her childhood was pretty normal and she was raised to do the right thing

Week 1

She walks in the school and finds herself looking everywhere, she spaced out when a boy/girl by the name of Harvey/Harriett Uroso talks to her and Felicity falls in love with them, without hesitation, she starts talking to them and quickly befriends them

They introduces her to their friend group. In this friend group, there is two boys and two females. She learns that one of the guys by the name of Iven Davis has a crush on the leader(aka Harvey/Harriett)and plans to confess them on Thursday

Felicity goes to her complex apartment feeling a bit upset trying to think about anything, she gets stopped by a male(his name is Afflictus Tartal) who has a deal for her. If she's able to get him pictures of the inside of the school then he'll provide her things she needs, out of desperation, she agrees

When she finally gets to her complex, she meets a girl by the name of Suzanne Tartal and they start to chat. Felicity tells her about her situation and Suzanne suggest murder as a way, she shows Felicity the ins and outs of murder and how to get away with it

(Suzanne is a second source. She’ll replace Afflictus if you go killing)

Felicity goes to bed knowing what she needed to do the next day

Week 2

If she's able to get rid of him, then it will move to a 10th year student by the name of Louise Hill who meets Harvey/Harriett when they try to find their classroom. She falls in love and wants to confess, she meets Felicity and quickly wishes to become friends

Week 3

If she is eliminated then it will move to a girl by the name of Iva Woods. She meets Harvey/Harriett when she accidentally spilled her water on them, she falls in love and tries to repair their relationship, Harvey/Harriett invites them to hang in the group which gives her the chance of meeting people that their close to

Week 4

If she's eliminated then Felicity meets another student whose name is Vale Fisher who has grown a crush on her. She meets him on Sunday during the town's hearts festival when he brings her a box of chocolate, he says that he things she's cute and would like to hang with her

Week 5

After that, another guy(Fleecer Hicks) grows a crush on Harvey/Harriett and starts to hang around them protecting them from other students. Harvey/Harriett try to make him a better person by spending their time with him which in turn makes them fall in love. He hangs in a group that is only female and each one is like a bodyguard

Week 6

After that, a transfer student named Yvonne Keller meets Harvey/Harriett and gets annoyed at them for ruining their dance and wants to ruin their reputation as a revenge

Week 7

If he's taken care of. Felicity meets up with Afflictus to talk, she asks why he needs the photos of the school. He answered that his ex wife, Alison Bell, is the principal of the school and he used to work there and misses it. He asks if Felicity would try to get his wife to take him back

The next week, the principal will be around the halls watching the students. Felicity will be able to talk to her about certain topics before talking about her ex, she then will say that he cheated on him with the fired nurse

The students tells Afflictus about what Alison said, he'll go to the school and say that the nurse forced herself onto him

Alison won't believe it but either she'll allow him the job seeing him in the destruct state or kick him out depending if Felicity was able to convince her enough

After that moment, Afflictus will easily be at the school and be Felicity's new teacher

But if she's unsuccessful, then he'll still be use trough the alleyway of the school(aka his home)

But if you choose killing, then this week will be a regular week, a free week if you may, since Afflictus won’t talk to you knowing you’re a killer

Week 8

For the next week. Harvey/Harriet won't be attending the first 3 days because of personal problems but Felicity will be able to talk with them viva a phone mini game where you click a sentence to respond to them. This week is pretty easy to get through

Week 9

Once that week is over. Harvey/Harriet will meet a guy who starts to stalk them and plans to kidnap them, Felicity learns about this and has to get rid of them through police and record collecting

If she's able to get him arrested, then you pass the week. If not, you lose the game

Week 10

The final week takes place when the school is going to have their first dance. Felicity has until Thursday to ask Harvey/Harriet out to the dance, but if she's not able, she'll just get the friend ending

If she's able to ask them out, there are 6 possible endings you could get depending on how you eliminated your rivals and many other things

Elimination methods

Lethal methods:

Stabbing(knife, scissors, shears, saw, and spear)

Drowning via fountain or toilet

Choking via hands or rope(high strength, mini game comes in)

Decapitation via power saw or chainsaw(from Suzanne)

Going to the rival's home

Ruining the rival's life(example: making one of their family members lose their job)

Nonlethal methods:

Befriending(no betray)

Matchmaking(different story)

Rumors via online

Suicide in many different ways depending on the reason(jumping, hanging, cutting, pills, etc)

Making Harvey/Harriett hate them(different way, to make then REALLY hate them)

Let me go into detail for each rival:

Iven Davis:

Befriending: This elimination is pretty easy since you both are in the same friend group, you learn that his parents been going through a divorce and he wishes they would just get along

In response to this, you will set up a dinner date in town where the two adults meet and talk things over

Once you pass this, Iven will thank you and say he's willing to give up his confession for you as a thank you

Matchmaking: another guy(Duval Burns) happens to be in love with Iven and wants to confess to him. You can help them set up a date in town where they will talk, you will have to help Duval say things Iven will like and then order food that matches Iven's likes. Each day will have a different date. Some ideas I have are a movie theater, the park, a outlook, and a trip to the shops.

By Thursday. Iven will either confess to Harvey/Harriet or Duval, after he confess, Duval will accept and after that week they will be a couple

Rumors: Felicity is too nice to ever spread rumors in real life but is also desperate to keep her crush single, so she'll go anonymous and spread some unsavory rumors about Iven. You'll stalk Iven and watch his every move, taking photos of things out of context(Ex: him talking to an older man/woman, looking at a sex shop, walking past a crying child) After that, you'll be able to write a fake statement. There will be a meter to let you know if it's believable, if it isn't then you'll most likely fail.

After that, Iven will have to move to another school due to the harassment

Suicide: Easy enough to explain. Just shift the bully's attention towards Iven by making him accidentally go towards them, the bullying will escalate to physically hurting him which may very(Ex: Fleecer may cut holes in Ivan's gym clothes during P.E, he might push Ivan down the stairs, he might get his gang to write things on his desk, he might poke him with scissors, and he might beat him up after school hours that you might be able to see this on the way home where the girls block half of it saying things like

"Move along, unless you want to be next."

"Keep it moving."

"If you tell anyone, you'll be just like him."

"Came to see a show? Sorry to disappoint, but Fleecer doesn't like an audience."

"Fleecer is so cool, I wish I was like him."

By the end of the week, Iven will kill himself depending on how far the bullying has gone. The worse being cutting.

Making Harvey/Harriet hate them: Simple. Just make Iven look like a complete jerk. Some examples being: making Iven trip Harvey/Harriet, making him spill their drink on them, hacking into Iven's account and sending death treats to Harvey/Harriet, Iven making promises and not keeping them, and etc. By the time they confess, Harvey/Harriet will deny their feelings and leave

Suicide and rumors are the same and will apply to every rival the same

Louise Hill:

Befriending: Louise will ask Felicity to bring her some study notes that have the correct answers so she can study them, once she brings them to her house. Louise will then tell her that she's a little tight on money but needs a tutor to help her pass, so you can either get money from jobs(will go on later) or get Afflictus to study with Louise

After you do that, Louise will thank you and say she'll let you keep Harvey/Harriet

Matchmaking: A girl(Bridgette Fox) has developed feelings for Louise and wants to ask her out, you'll have to give her a gift and then wait til the end of the day where then, she'll confess her feelings to Louise. But then get's turned down because Louise is straight, Bridgette runs away crying which makes Louise feel bad stopping her from confessing her own feelings

Iva Woods:

Befriending: Felicity will have to catch Iva in town since she's always busy during school, she can be found in the library. She'll say she doesn't need anything and nothing is wrong with her. But if you stalk her, you'll noticed that she's being followed by an unknown figure. There are two outcomes, you let Iva get kidnapped and then sold for money or you attack the kidnapper before they striked

Once you save her, she will be in your debt and promises not to do anything against you as long as you protect her

After that moment, you must walk Iva to her manor everyday until the last week

Matchmaking: A boy(Oliver Berry) falls in love with her for her money and looks but Iva knows he's only attracted to those things so she refuses to even date him. But you can make him act differently and not making it known that he only wants those things

You can make him act smarter, compliment her personality and not even mention her riches. By the end of the week, Iva will have fallen in love and date him

Vale Fisher:

Befriending: This is the only time you can betray. He's already in love, so all you have to do is ask him to meet you somewhere. You get two options, either the waterfall or your complex

If it's the waterfall, you push him killing him on impact. If it's your complex, then you drug him and kill him there. But with both locations, you can talk to him to get him off your back. At first he'll refuse, but then agree saying his feelings won't go away but he'll let you go be happy

Matchmaking: There is nobody in school or outside school that wants him. But you could try to get him with someone online, you can send him a list of ladies from across the country and see if he finds them attractive

Fleecer Hicks:

Befriending: This is the hardest one to do. You have to get an illegal substance from Afflictus to gain Fleecer's respect. He will tell you that his grandmother died recently and his deadbeat of a father took a very important item that she gave him and would like it back

A mini game will begin where you sneak into the small apartment and find the item that's a heart shape ring. If the father notice you stealing it he will attack you causing a button pressing mini game that is hard

If you beat it. You'll return the ring where Fleecer thanks you and says you can keep Harvey/Harriett but says if anyone finds out about this, then he'll break your skull

Matchmaking: A female from his group(Doreen Fields) falls in love with him and wants him to herself. You'll help her gain confidence to ask him out, of course, he ends up denying her feelings telling her that she's just a bodyguard. Doreen takes this personal and attacks him, she accidentally kills him causing her to panic and run away

Suicide: This feature will be done different. You'll have to make Fleecer's gang go against him by making him sound like he hates them, this is done by recording conversations he has with a friend outside the school where he speaks ill of every member. There are 3 members so the conversations will happen over 3 days and then you'll have to edit them all together and show the girls on Friday

They'll confront him and say they don't want anything to do with him, Fleecer will have a break down and run away from the school to his house

On Saturday, he would kill himself via hanging

Yvonne Keller:

Befriending: You will have to gain major popularity online to be able to talk to Yvonne, this is simple as helping out a student at your school. When she notices you, she will ask to do a duet with you

You two will meet after school on Wednesday by the Bellecour, she will set things up and then you two will start dancing. But a teen with swoop in and steal her phone, you will have to give chase and snatch it back

She will thank you and say she'll be your best friend. But she takes it back when you ask her to stop bothering Harvey/Harriett, she says fine but also says that you were a bit too lame for her taste

Matchmaking: Nobody in school is interested in her, but outside of school, a guy(Bennett Hail) likes her but she never looks in her direction. You help him make him stand out from the crowd so she would notice him. Yvonne walks up to him on Thursday and asks him to do a duet with her, he agrees and they walk away to do a dance together taking her mind away from ruining anyone's reputation

Afflictus system

You can accuses him before school, before class, after school, and during the weekend. Depending on if you get his job back on week 7, you can find him either in the classroom or if you don't pass, in the school alleyway

He's able to get you weapons, lethal drugs, hitmen, outside sources, and new abilities(strength, reading, organizing, cooking, and endurance)

To buy all these things, you must take photos of inside the school mainly ones of your classroom which is class 2-7

But he can’t be used if you’re going genocide, he’ll ignore you and call you a murderer

Suzanne system

If you go genocide, you can call on Suzanne via phone or go to her home and she'll give things that isn't accessible. Weapons, new move sets, keys to a warehouse, popularity boost, hints, and a replay of the tutorial. To get all these things, you'll have to take photos of a student being bullied, a dead body, dead animals and pictures of the graveyard

Complex

Everyday after school hours, Felicity will return to her apartment. There she can study, practice the abilities she purchased from Afflictus, use her laptop to spread rumors or buy things online, play video games that can be bought and can grant certain abilities, go into town to stalk her rival or work or buy things, go to Harvey's/Harriett's house to watch the sleep(this will trigger mid game credits while music plays until you leave), or sleep to pass time

Town system

Their is a full town that is able to be used, there are 9 shops that can grant the player multiple things. Weapons, video games, music, money, decorations, different aesthetics, etc. If their not interested in shopping, then they can stalk their peers or rivals and hear about their lives. Their are also some other characters outside the school, adults will occasionally talk outside stores about things(some will speak in french but have English subtitles)you can also find Afflictus between the school and cafe

You walk to school this way and also walk home this way so you have the chance to get things you may need before the day starts

Job system

In the town, you have 3 job options and each has a different way to pay. The chef job gives you 100€. The librarian job gives you 90€. The assistant office manger gives you 400€. But the jobs require certain skills, which depends on the abilities you get

Game mechanics

Controls

Computer: Q(confirm) N(deny) F(attack) Shift(run) Space(phone) Enter(quick menu) A,W,S,D(move) Mouse(move camera) 1(pick item up) 2(drop item) 3(open inventory) T(talk)

Controller: Left stick(move) Bottom right stick(move camera) Directional pad left(pick up item) DP right(drop item) Left shoulder(run) Start button(quick menu) Back button(phone) A(confirm) B(deny) Y(talk)

Talking system

To talk with a student. Just walk up to them and press T(on computer) and Y(on controller)

When you start to talk, you have options. Compliment, give item, request favor, and leave. You don't have a time limit when talking and you can talk to your crush

Giving items to a peer will boost your reputation and will make you popular around school

Phone option

The phone has 8 apps to use. Camera where you can take photos with the C button or left trigger, the school yearbook(if a student has died then their faces will be blackened out), main menu, photo album, save/load, social media, mobile games(a flappy bird or crossing road type mini game), and settings

Student behavior

Each student has a personality that clashes with each other. Certain students are in a relationship, have enemies, friends and some are related.

There are 40 students in the game not including the rivals, H/H, and Felicity. If two students are in a relationship, during lunch they will eat together and after talk and then kiss

If students are in a friend group like Felicity, they will eat together then talk. But if two students are enemies, they will push each other when they get the chance

Based on personality types, students will do different things. Athletic students will go for jogs around the track before classes, artistic students will go somewhere quiet to sketch what they see, introverted students will sit alone to constipate, extroverted students will go to large groups to join in the conversations and so on

During class time, certain types of students will be seen doing something that matches their personality. Lazy students will take a nap, joke students will cause a disruption, and smart students will pay more attention then other students

After school, certain students won't be in town such being the introverted, loners, shy, and smart students. Other students will be. Iven is a shy student so he won't be in town

Class system

Each day has 3 classes. One at the start, one after lunch, and one optional one if you need a stat to go up. Each class has subject that you'll have a paper to, in which you will have to answer correctly(Ex: Simplify 7(x+5)(x-5)) if it's too hard, you can turn down the difficulty and still receive the credit

Teacher behavior

Each teacher behaves like a teacher would, they break up disputes between students, gives emotional support to those who need it, and after school helps students who need it

If a teacher sees blood then they will just assume someone had a nose bleed and clean it up, but if a body is found then they will call the police

They won't apprehend you, instead they'll pull out a teaser and taze you(gotta one up)

Sanity system

I wish to make something separate from what we're used to. Felicity isn't a psychopath or a killer by blood, she had a great childhood and her parents love her very much. She's just pushed to do these things which takes a toll on her mind, of course the sanity will decrease but she won't giggle instead cry because guilt is over coming her

She isn't emotionless. Everyday she'll go home contemplate what she done, if she murder someone she'll stay silent. But if she sabotaged an interaction with the rival, she'll blame herself but then think about her crush and she'll forgive herself afterward

Final note

So. Whadda think? Too ambitious?

Well I think it might be cool..if possible I would, but still won't cause of clear issues

But it would be cool if I did, oh well, guess this idea was never meant to be

#yandere #concpet #french #Amant retrouvé #idea #death tw #murder #tw suicice #tw bullying

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ronninoir · 4 years

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Can I Steal You for a Second? CH11

Summary: Adrien is forced to participate in a new dating show, but becomes more excited when Ladybug says she’ll participate as her civilian self.

AKA: AU where Adrien doesn’t know Marinette, the superheroes are 22 and Gabriel is mean and ruthless but not Hawkmoth.

Read on AO3

Start from the beginning Chp 1 on AO3

Chapter 11

The morning of the date Marinette woke up late. She was up late the night before hanging with the other girls and woke up with 15 minutes to look presentable and eat before rushing out the door onto the waiting van. The other girls were chatting excitedly while Marinette was just trying to remember if she applied deodorant and her make-up in the right spots.

Once they got to wherever they were going, Marinette had forgotten all of her troubles this morning, and, after checking to make sure Tikki was with her, rushed off the bus with the other girls. They were stopped at what looked like an up-scale coffee shop, called “The Coffee Code.” Marinette had never heard of the coffee shop, and there were no street signs near that could help Marinette figure out where they were, which put her slightly on edge.

They were lead inside by a producer and the place looked magical. There were TVs everywhere and different types of comfy looking chairs were spaced around everywhere. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought they were going to play video games.

Adrien walked out towards the group from what looked like a kitchen. He was smiling and laughing with a man who wore a green shirt with suspenders over it, brown corduroy pants and black square glasses. Marinette’s heart stopped and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. He kept his hair shorter than when they were in high school but otherwise Max Kanté hadn’t changed much about his appearance.

“Hello ladies. Today I have a super special date planned for you all. But before I tell you what it is, let me introduce my friend Max Kanté. He owns this coffee shop called “The Coffee Code.” Max serves coffee, just like any other coffee shop, but he also teaches people how to code computers and even fixes computers on his spare time.” Max gave the group a cheerful wave as Adrien continued, “The reason we are here is because once a month, Max has these legendary video game tournaments, each month a different game.

“Today we are going to play a tournament of Ultimate Mecha Strike 3, one of my favorite games.” Marinette was floating on clouds. This was the best date she could have been put on. While Marinette was trying to calm her face so no one could see how excited she was, she noticed a lot of the other girls looked worried. This is going to be a piece of cake.

“Now, I know some of you may not be well versed in video games, do not fear. Max has agreed to teach all of us some video game tips and tricks that will help you succeed in the upcoming tournament.” Adrien turned towards Max and allowed him to step forward.

“First thing we are going to do is split up into two groups to go over basic video game techniques. Adrien is going to take one group and I’m going to take the other. Then, we will switch groups and teach different tips and tricks for Ultimate Mecha Strike 3 specifically.” Max pushed up his glasses while turning back towards Adrien. Adrien’s smile turned stiff as he shifted his gaze towards a producer, his eyes asking the question that his mouth couldn’t.

“And cut! Very good boys,” a producer said as he stepped out from the shadows. “Now we are going to split you in half. This half, go with Adrien,” he pointed to the half that Marinette wasn’t in, “and this half will go with Max. After an hour we’ll switch and then the tournament will begin.”

Marinette hung back as her group walked towards Max. She had Lucie, Ines and Camille in her group, while Zoe, Lila and Alicia walked towards Adrien.

“Hey ladies, let’s go over here and get started,” she heard Adrien call to them as they walked to the other side of the shop.

Max turned and addressed the girls. He scanned over them and did a double take when he saw Marinette. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng is that you?” Max asked with a grin.

Marinette walked up and laughed, giving Max a hug. “Oh my gosh Max it’s been what? 4 years? You did well for yourself after high school. This place... it’s amazing Max. Everything you dreamed it would be.” She pulled him in close and whispered, “Please don’t say anything about my video game skills. I want to surprise them.”

As she pulled away he gave her a small nod. “Well, Marinette looks like you’re about to learn all of the things I’ve been trying to teach you since middle school. Can’t run away now, can you?” Marinette laughed at that and joined the rest of her group in some chairs that had been placed in front of a TV.

For the next half hour, Max explained exactly what it was like to control the character in the video game. He explained how to press all of the buttons and what the whole point of the video game was. The second half of their time with Max consisted of them taking turns controlling their own character in the game. By the end of their time, they understood what buttons to press and how to make the characters move, and Marinette noticed that the other girls looked more comfortable with the controller than they had in the beginning.

Once their time was up, they switched instructors with Adrien’s group. They sat around another TV on the other side of the shop and focused on how to play Ultimate Mecha Strike 3. Adrien went over the general rules for about 20 minutes, and then they girls began playing practice rounds.

“Wow, Marinette! You are doing an impressive job! You caught on really quickly.” Adrien praised her as she ran around the screen and played the computer-controlled character. Those characters were set to easy, so Marinette toned down her normal playing skills in order to not beat the characters too easily. She wanted to wow the group, and Adrien, with her video game playing skills.

“Thanks! It just seems to make sense. It’s like I know exactly what needs to be done to defeat the characters. You’re a great teacher, Adrien,” she said with a smile. She thought that she had played the dumb girl bit up too much but Adrien laughed and leaned in close.

“You seem to know what you’re doing more than the others. I can’t wait to see what you really play like when the tournament comes.” Marinette giggled and blushed, not having to look at the screen to defeat the character she was currently playing. He died with a hard kick in his gut from Marinette’s character and Adrien gave her a smile.

A producer chose that moment to walk up to their group and announce, “Time’s up! The tournament will start in 5 minutes.”

The producers had created a bracket, like what Plagg was talking about in her and Adrien’s conversation about Gabriel’s Top 10 List. Adrien was up against Ines first, and they both were shuffled to the TV and game system where every team would play.

Adrien was good. Either that or Ines was very bad. Adrien destroyed her within the first 5 minutes of play, and that was with a “Best two out of three” rule. Ines giggled and walked away blushing, clearly not bothered by the fact that she had lost.

Next went Zoe and Lucie. Both were actually really good competitors and their game lasted significantly longer. Lucie beat Zoe by just a little bit in the third round and Marinette was impressed with her gaming style.

While Alicia and Camille were playing, both of them so terrible that it seemed like no one was ever going to win, Marinette caught up with Lucie and congratulated her on her win.

“You did a really good job for someone who has never played video games before,” Marinette said with a smirk.

Lucie had the decency to blush before she responded with, “Can I tell you the truth? This isn’t my first time playing the game.” She giggled and it was so pure and sweet that Marinette couldn’t help diving in. “You also seem to have some hidden skills,” Lucie pointed out. “Tell me, are you saving them so you can destroy Lila in the next game?”

Marinette gave her a devious smile. “Why of course not! I’m not going to completely destroy her. I’m going to gently defeat her. I’m saving my destroying skills for Adrien.”

Lucie laughed again. Marinette was struck by how easy it was to have a conversation with her. It was times like these that she would forget that she was competing for Adrien. She tried not to let the thought of the competition ruin this moment with a new friend. “So, tell me,” Marinette said as they began walking back towards the group. Alicia had won the first game and they were currently working on the second. “How did you learn to play like that?”

Lucie gave Marinette a look. “I have three older brothers. The only way to hang out with them is to play video games. A lot of times, we would have a tournament to see who would have to do chores. After losing for a couple of years, I wised up and studied up on the game. Let’s just say, I haven’t washed the dishes in about 3 years.” Marinette was impressed and realized that if they had met in a different way, they might actually have been really good friends.

“What about you? Got any mischievous siblings fueling your game play?” Lucie asked, snapping Marinette back to the present. Alicia had barely pulled off a win and it was about to be Marinette’s turn.

“No, no siblings. Just a dad who loves to play.” At that, Marinette walked off and sat on a chair. She held her hand out for the controller and smiled as Lila sat down with a look of disgust. Marinette leaned towards her, “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you to make you look better.”

Lila rolled her eyes and scoffed, “I don’t need your help. I’m going to win all on my own.”

Marinette didn’t respond, but was nice enough to shake Lila’s hand when she beat her after two rounds of Lila getting pummeled. Adrien and Lucie were to face off, then Alicia and Marinette. Adrien barely beat Lucie after she destroyed him in the first game. Marinette could have beat Alicia with her eyes closed, but was nicer to her on the screen than she was to Lila. Eventually it ended up being Adrien versus Marinette. Lucie and Max were cheering for Marinette, while the rest of the girls were rooting for Adrien.

Adrien shook Marinette’s hand before the game started, “Good luck, Marinette.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes that was so Chat Noir like that Marinette almost swooned. “You’re going to need it. I’m very good in case you didn’t notice.”

“Save your luck, Adrien. I have all the skills I need to defeat you.” Marinette smiled innocently at him and he was a little taken back at her confidence.

Finally, he let out a laugh, “Let’s see what you got.”

Their game lasted 30 minutes. Both were very good players who clearly knew the game and its tricks very well. Marinette won the first round, but Adrien snuck up on her and won the second. The last round they spent the most time on. In the end, Marinette defeated Adrien with a “Marinette Style!” shout and move her dad liked to use on her to win.

Lucie and Max cheered, while the other girls, specifically Lila, rushed to Adrien to consul him. Lucie ran up to Marinette and gave her a hug, “Wow Marinette that was amazing! I could tell you were good but that was impressive playing!”

“Thanks!” Marinette was beaming. She accepted a little trophy from Max and was about to be pulled away to an interview about the tournament and her win when Adrien grabbed her by the arm.

“Marinette, can I steal you for a second?” Marinette looked to the producers for confirmation, and when they nodded, Marinette did the same.

Adrien led Marinette off to the side, away from the other girls and shot a dazzling smile. She wasn’t worried about how he would take the loss, knowing that her Kitty would find the joy in the game rather than sadness at losing. “Thank you for a well-played game, Marinette. I honestly didn’t think you could beat me, but you did. Your confidence is beautiful on you.”

Marinette blushed and leaned forward, itching to kiss him, touch him, anything, but knowing it needed to be his move. “Thank you for being a worthy opponent. We’ll have to play again sometime without the audience.”

Adrien smiled. “Wow dinner and a video game? Those are some big promises.”

Marinette smiled back at him. It was insane how much she loved this man. “You should know that I never break my promises.” Adrien grabbed her hand and brought it up to his face. He leaned forward like he was going to kiss her hand, in another very Chat like action, but he instead grabbed the trophy from her and ran.

“Hey!” Marinette called as she chased after him. They wound around sets and crew members, and even a couple of girls and, with the help of her Ladybug speed, finally caught up with him before he reached the boys bathroom, where he knew she couldn’t follow. She dove for him and they ended up on the ground, Marinette straddling his hips with her knees and her arms pinning his to the ground. “I think you have something of mine,” she told him with a smile. She was barely out of breath but her heart quickened all the same.

He gave her one of his Chat Noir grins (Man, he was just full of Chat moves today) when he asked, “What are you going to do about it?”

Without thinking, she leaned down and kissed him. It wasn’t a very long kiss, but it was enough to speed her heart up even more and send a wonderful tingling down her spine. When they broke apart, Adrien was smiling and she knew that she was too. She stood up and offered him a hand, which he took.

“I was hoping you’d do that,” Adrien whispered as they began walking back to the group, hand in hand. They had made it to the van where the girls were waiting for her to return.

“Well next time, don’t run, and maybe it’ll be less work.” She took a chance and shot Adrien a wink, which had him laughing. She loved his laugh and would do anything to keep that laughter going. As he was laughing, she slipped to his other side and grabbed the trophy from him. She slipped on the van, and though there were no windows, she imagined him standing there, watching the van drive away with a grin on his face.

Happy Easter Y’all, and if you don’t celebrate Easter Happy Sunday of Quarantine! Drama ahead everyone so buckle up and get ready!!

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veridium · 4 years

Text

playing god

merry christmas and happy holidays to all! to celebrate, here’s a chapter of day & age! and in the spirit of the season, it’s (mostly) fluffy and sweet. you know I can never just deal out 100% sugar.

anyways, on with the show! CHAPTER 40 HOLY SHIT!

last chapter // masterpost

It’s cold.

It’s cold, and it’s 7pm on a Friday night, and...it’s cold. The bars downtown have yet to get lively. While Greek Row has been pumping music out since 4pm, they won’t get the cops called until much later. None of this matters currently; what does are two things: midterms, and finding out if Cassandra is still alive.

As the week progresses, Cass becomes harder to contact and even harder to see around. Olivia can understand the need to be reclusive -- she is, after all, Queen of her dorm cave when it comes to Finals. But as the weekend nears, Olivia goes through classes trying not to panic like a lovestruck guppy fish. It takes bumping into Ellinor, who helpfully tells her that the “final match” actually refers to the one they’re playing next week, and not some far-away and obscure phenomenon. Only then does it all make sense.

“You’re a dumbass,” Ellinor laughed when she realized Olivia had no clue.

“I am...oh God, I am,” she said through her hands.

But that was a hours ago. Now is now, and she’s walking with her bag and three layers of sweaters and a jacket down to the practice field. As she gets closer she glances at the parking lot on the other side to see the gleam a couple cars still parked. The lights are blaring over the green turf, and as she rounds the long aisle of bleachers, she sees one person is still using them.

On the far side, Cassandra, dressed in shorts and a long-sleeve under-armor shirt beneath a jersey tank, is pacing. Just ahead of her are three balls equally spaced apart, likely meant for the huge net thing. Goal? It was a goal. Damn, if midterms and upcoming finals weren’t swamping her brain, she would sit down and learn all this once and for all. Walking through the gate, she starts going through all the facts she does recall from all their conversations:

1). The net thing is a “goal.”

2). The ball really hurts when it hits you.

3). Cassandra looks really hot when she’s working out and I am too bisexual for public exposure.

Okay, the third fact was more of a habitual lapse in sense as Cassandra puts her hands to her hips and turns around. She locks eyes with her immediately, as if she has a sixth sense for intruders and this, this is her field. Her domain. Her plane of complete and utter control.

Olivia slows down and smiles, no matter the distance between them, she it travels. When Cassandra grins, her wish comes true.

“What on earth are you doing here?” Cassandra calls out.

Olivia quickens her pace, her backpack slipping down from her shoulder into her hand. When she huffs air out her mouth it turns into a huge plume of steam that cakes her face. Not until she’s about 3-4 yards away does she answer.

“I needed a new study space. The coffee shop was getting too crowded.”

Cassandra’s brow furrows with skepticism. Her breath steams the air, too, as she crosses a white chalk line in the grass. “Really?”

“Yeah. And the library, forget it,” she shakes her head. “Couldn’t find a spot unless it involves sitting on a guy named Ben.”

“No mere mortal named Ben deserves that honor.”

Butterflies, and Olivia looks away toward the balls and the net behind her. “I mean...yeah. Probably. But…”

“You know there’s no plug-ins here?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Cassandra starts slowly walking again, closer and closer. “And no baristas to give you an extra shot of espresso.”

“Didn’t think so.”

Closer, and closer still. “And the wifi has to be shit.”

“...Oh, fuck.” Her smile wanes. “That’s...that’s true...shit, I--”

The sound of Cassandra’s chuckle and the feel of her hands sliding around her sides sends whatever Olivia was going to say out into the void. She drops her bag, and without another teasing word, Cassandra kisses her. A kiss that warms better than any coffee of fire. The kind after too much time apart, no matter that it was only a day.

Olivia has slid onto her toes by the time she pulls away, biting her lip as now both their clouds of exhaled steam plume around them both.

“And here I thought you’d be too focused to give me the time of day,” she whispers, biting back a smile.

Cassandra smirks a bit tensely, and relaxes her hold. She’s still a bit sweaty, but in this weather, that rarely lasts. “Practice ended an hour ago. I’m just planning.”

It’s then Olivia notices the sack of equipment on the sideline to the far right of where they are standing. Cones, extra balls, all in some giant net that looks like you could catch fish with it.

“Oh. Uh, in that case, if I should go then--”

“No,” Cassandra lets go of her in order to take hold of her hand and hold it just as tight. “No, stay.”

Olivia’s brow lifts, and she’s begging her heart to stop beating so fast that it takes her breath -- what little she has that isn’t already stolen by the freezing temperature -- away every time.

“Sure,” she replies, and reaches down to pick up her bag. “I can just...go fix myself up on the bench over there.”

“Okay,” Cassandra says as she delays letting go of her until they are too far apart to maintain it. She is so sweet, so calm. Completely different from how Olivia imagined she would be; to be fair, the only other times she saw her in action were during the day and with the entire team. Her “Captain” persona was stern and constantly frowning at someone or something. She was good, and she acted like it. No excuses, no fluff. This was like an alternate reality.

Trying not to get lost in her thoughts, she sets her bag on the bench and sits on the ground, back against it. She then pulls out her macbook and set it on her straight legs, pulling it open while her eyes inevitably wandered to the woman still in the center of the lights. Cassandra had already returned to pacing, eyes toward the goal while she walked along the line. Not playing, not running, not a single act of actually playing. Just pacing, slow and pensive. What was there to mull over so critically?

Rather than ask, Olivia minds her own business. She has work to do, too, and she shouldn’t embarass herself by gawking. She pulls up her paper outlines and gets to work, even pulling out her headphones from her pocket. Unfortunately she doesn’t have the will to put them in, for the chance that maybe Cassandra will say something and God forbid she gets caught not willing to listen. Fuck, she’s got it good.

Time goes by, and it’s productive on either end: Olivia manages to do the impossible and get some work done, and Cassandra ends her deliberations and starts practicing with a ball, aiming and hitting them each into the goal one-by-one. Each time, she centers them in the same way, and backs away a few yards before charging at them. It all seems rather ritualistic. This goes on for another 10-15 minutes before Olivia notices from the top of her gaze that Cassandra has stopped, standing still and arms folded. She looks up and watches her for a moment as she’s regaining her breath. The way the lights show leave no piece of her in the dark, but somehow she’s still so elusive.

“You alright there, Captain?” Olivia yells, halting her typing.

Cassandra glances out of the corner of her eye and her lips move, but not loud enough. She turns around and walks toward her balls and starts picking them up, one and then another, and kicks the last one with her. Olivia frowns and sets her laptop aside, closing it before rising to her feet. Cassandra’s got her eyes to the ground again, staring daggers.

And of course because Olivia can never just let things be, she impulsively jogs over. She crouches and swipes the ball from the ground, bounding in a circle further out into the field. Cassandra finally snaps out of whatever trance she’s got herself in and turns to watch her, an alarmed sound catching in her throat.

“H-hey! Olivia!”

“This is how you play, right?” Olivia smiles fiendishly, holding the ball above her head like she’s about to chuck it. “You grab and run for it?”

“Ugh, no, you know it’s not,” Cassandra corrects her, still so serious.

Not sufficed, Olivia lowers the ball to rest against her stomach, and continues to play. “Hm. Silly me. I thought you took it and held it ransom until someone finally tackles you to the ground.”

“You’re thinking rugby, and no,” Cassandra shakes her head. “Come on, give it back.”

“Really? Then how am I gonna score a basket?”

“That is bask--Olivia! Come on, please.”

“Hm…” Olivia continues, and Cassandra finally sets the balls down by the bench and follows her, albeit at a far less energetic pace, out onto the field.

“The field closes soon,” she warns.

Olivia giggles a little, and holds the ball behind her back. “Then you better hurry!”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I’m not serious, I’m doing what you’re doing: I’m playing.”

They stare at each other as the impasse rises. With the sharpness of Cassandra’s frown, Olivia only smiles more, hoping to fight fire with fire -- just different kinds, is all.

“Come on, Captain, I thought nothing got past you.”

“...that’s it.”

Cassandra’s mouth twitches at the corners, and her eyes narrow with precision. She cuts into a sprint, so fast that Olivia shrieks in fear as she goes to escape. Maybe she should have thought this through before challenging a soccer player to run fast across a flat surface.

She makes it almost to the halfway point of the field before arms wrap around her from behind and pull her to a twirling stop. Cassandra’s strength pulls her off the ground again, and Olivia’s shrieking laughter only worsens when she’s captured. They spin once, and then twice, before Olivia chucks the ball aimlessly and gives up.

“I give up! I give--” she says through her gasping breaths.

Cassandra doesn’t say a word nor utters so much as a smirk as she breathes heavy at her back, mouth near her ear. It both excites her and sends a shiver down her spine, feeling her inch-for-inch and completely engulfed around her. When both the laughter and Olivia’s feet find the ground again, she finds Cassandra doesn’t release her this second time. No, instead, she holds on and makes it so Olivia has to spin around in her hold in order to face her captor. When she does, their faces are so close, heartbeats so rushed, it makes her forget the clever quip she had in store.

“I...I…”

Cassandra then grins, still catching her breath. A wave of relief comes with it.

“I just wanted…” Olivia tries again, arms resting on top of Cassandra’s, hands clasping around her shoulders. She would rather die than be free of them.

“You were just trying to help, I know,” Cassandra knowingly finishes for her. “Funny how your methods are always starting trouble first.”

Olivia giggles, hands sliding up to the sides of her neck. “I know...but I can’t help it.”

“I also know that.”

“Interesting. Do you also know what to do with that mouth of yours?”

Cassandra’s grin softens, and the pink tint in her cheeks intensifies. One could say it is just the strain of physical exertion, but, whatever. Olivia smiles to take the sting out of it.

“I meant kiss me,” she whispers the hint.

Cassandra lets out a relieved chuckle, and brings her in closer, as if it were possible. They both lean in for what is sure to be the perfect way to end a successful distraction, until it is one-upped by a voice calling from the far side of the field where Olivia entered from. Immediately, both stop and look. Maybe it’s one of the teammates having forgotten something, or some other jock out in the wild. But no, it’s someone dressed in normal clothes, with long black hair thick and wavy. They have a handbag hooked on their arm, and from the looks of their walk, are wearing quite the ambitious pair of stilettos.

“Shit,” Cassandra mutters, and pulls away. They go from being glued to each other, so polarized like magnet ends. Olivia tries not to feel tossed aside as she pulls down her sleeves and jacket hem, clearing her throat. Cassandra does the same.

“What are you doing here?!” Cassandra asks the person, annoyed. Nothing like she acted when it was Olivia showing up.

The figure stops and leans onto one hip, sighing with attitude. “Don’t do this, Cassandra. You knew I was stopping by!”

“Yes, you said 8:30, at my apartment.”

The woman then keep walking, furiously until she is close enough for them to become a triad of anxiety and confusion. She’s pretty, and looks kind of like Cassandra, if you were to close one eye, tilt your head, then take a shot of something so strong it could strip rust off a pipe. Hair that looks freshly balayaged, makeup impeccably done, not too much or too little. Older, but not quite so old for Olivia to wonder if it’s a parent or another one of her aunts and uncles.

“Yes, and it’s…” the woman checks her phone she slips out her bag. “Wow, look, 8:25. You’re lucky I know you well enough to check the nearest soccer field.”

Cassandra sighs loudly. “Fine. Do you have the keys?”

“Of course! But first, who is this?” the woman’s eyes land on Olivia, and instantly the field lights seem like glow-sticks in comparison. She can’t quite tell if she is the shiny new thing, or the interloper that needs to turn to ash. Their voices are so nice to listen to, what the fuck?

“I, uh, um...”

“This is Olivia. Olivia, this is my cousin, Antonia--”

“Antonia Pentaghast,” she smiles, and holds her hand out, freshly done acrylics and all. Damn, this woman is a masterpiece. “Nice to meet you, Olivia…?”

Olivia reaches and shakes her hand, strong and confident as she can, and blinks. Shit, she means last name. “Olivia Sinclair. Nice to meet you!”

“Sinclair…” she says with a little thrill as their hands fall. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to the lady on the City Council?”

Olivia and Cassandra exchange a look too quick for her to tell whether this is something she encourages. The very mention of her Mother fills her with as much anxiety as the Captain of the Titanic must have felt. “Um, actually, yes. She is my Mother.”

“Mother! What a small world! Your family has been patrons of our Church almost as long as we have! But I don’t think I’d have to tell you that, ahah.”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Olivia smiles politely, joining her hands together behind her. Yep, that is fact no. 1 in the Sinclair household. Right up there with the “Live, Laugh, Love” decals.

“How funny,” Antonia grins playfully, eyeing her less-than-enthused cousin who has become a pillar of seriousness all over again. So much for comedy being the most potent medicine.

“Antonia,” Cassandra interrupts sternly, “the keys?”

Antonia is about to say something more, but she stops herself and laughs. “My, my,” she says, sifting through her handbag. “You must forgive me, Olivia. Cassandra hardly ever mentions any friends. Other than that...that blonde one, she keeps bringing around but swears she is not dating.” The keys jingle in her hand as she hands them off to Cassandra, who wastes no time in snatching them up. “My husband and I are leaving for a few days to visit his family on the coast. I asked her to check up on our cats. Just dropping off the spare key!”

“Oh! That sounds like fun,” Olivia says, and then feels instantly self-conscious. But hey, it’s something.

“It will be!” Antonia grins. “Now, please tell me I will be seeing you at our family’s holiday gather--”

“Olivia will be spending the break with her own family, Antonia,” Cassandra intervenes, a bit coldly, even. The jolt in the otherwise congenial encounter makes any comfort vanish.

Antonia stops, mouth still agape, and brow lifted. Her eyes shift from her rude cousin to her.

“I…” Olivia looks at Cassandra, who in turn gives her a look of ‘please help,’ and has to choose loyalties. “I...she’s right. Thanksgiving is very important to my Mom.”

Antonia grins like she’s onto something, whether it be their true dynamic or nuclear launch codes. She hums and makes a “tsk, tsk” sound to finish. “How perfect that our gathering does not take place on the day of, then. But, details, details. I will leave you two alone. You seemed to be enjoying it...a lot.” She straightens up and runs a hand through her hair. Olivia keeps staring, even when she knows she shouldn’t. With a nod to the both of them, Antonia turns tail and struts off.

“Don’t forget Benny’s allergy meds, Cassandra!” she says, not bothering to look back.

“I won’t!” Cassandra confirms, resentfully scowling after her. It isn’t until Antonia’s figure is no longer in the field lights that she finally says anything more. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, keys ringing in between her shaking fingers. “My family is insufferable.”

While she walks off, grabbing the ball Olivia abandoned. Olivia follows but at a hung-back pace. The whole thing doesn’t make sense. Insufferable? That was anything but. If she wants insufferable, she should walk into my family’s home.

“That was...that was fine, Cassandra,” she says, rubbing her palms. “She seems really nice!”

“Yeah, they all are,” she gripes as they make it back to the bench.

“Is that not...good?”

“The point is that--” she stops herself, freezing upright. Collecting her frustration that seems so easily provoked. Olivia watches, but it hurts a little to have Cassandra’s back to her.

“The point is there’s a lot more to it than niceness.”

“I figured.” Olivia comes around to stand beside her, watching as she packs up the net of equipment. There’s so many questions to ask, but all of them seem decidedly not welcome.

“Look, I hate to ask, but...are they not...okay...with you not being straight?”

Cassandra doesn’t miss a beat, pulling the net string tight and figuring a knot. “Most of them would be. I have a cousin who’s gay, him and his partner have been together for five years.”

Wait...what the fuck?

“But...but aren’t they religious and really conservative?”

She lets go of the bag and turns around, crossing her arms. “Yeah. The older members are still...well, narrow-minded. My family is just huge. It would be impossible to keep that going and one of us not turning out...well…”

“...Well?”

Cassandra frowns and shakes her head. “Different? Look, I’d rather not discuss it.”

“That’s fine. I’m just a little confused.”

“Confused about what?”

Olivia’s arms go out wide, and she gestures toward the part of the field they were just standing in. The part where everything was going perfect until the record-scratch of the century. “That? That back there? That whole, ‘nevermind I’m not touching the woman who’s tongue was about to be down my throat, hi, she’s just Olivia’! ‘The first rule about bi-club is you don’t talk about bi-club!’”

“Olivia, please,” Cassandra replies dismissively, eyes rolling again.

Olivia’s confusion is now tinted with anger. “So I don’t deserve an answer?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. It’s complicated.”

Here we go again. “I don’t know ‘complicated’?”

“You, agh...you haven’t introduced me to your family, either!”

Olivia’s eyes widen. “That is because the last time I brought a girl home my Mom bought us best friends Pandora charms for Christmas and then gave her a guest room with a Bible in the drawer like some Hotel!”

Cassandra scoffs dryly, her hands returning to her hips. “See? You get it--”

“I do not get it, Cass. I don’t.”

Her tone becomes angrier, to match Olivia’s ire. “My family is nice. They are nice, but they are also incredibly invasive, elitist, and fake. If they get one scrap of your personal stuff, you can kiss any privacy and autonomy goodbye. I have worked so hard to have any semblance of my own life separate from them. Forgive me if that’s so selfish.”

The air goes quiet as they both stare at each other. Olivia closes her mouth to retain the spiteful response that surely would arise if she kept going. It would be unfair. But did that make it fair what she did to her just then? Or was it not nearly as big of a deal as she’s making it out to be?

Fuck, Theia’s shit is getting into my head.

Looking off towards the goal, Olivia bounces on and off her toes nervously. She slips her hands in her front jacket pockets.

“Is that why you didn’t invite me for the holidays?” she asks, tone and expression as blank as she can muster.

A pause, and then Cassandra’s careful tone. “Maybe. I thought it wouldn’t matter. You said you spend the break at home.”

“I do. You’re...you’re right.”

“Neither of us invited each other.”

“...Yeah.”

“Liv.”

She sucks on her teeth and closes her eyes, taking one, desperate breath of patience. “What?”

“Look at me,” she asks in return, coming closer. Olivia fights the bitter urge to back away, and make it harder for her. But the closer she is, the more disarmed she feels, even with all her wrath. So, with nothing but one step in between them left, she honors the request and looks at her. All the pride has left Cassandra’s face, replaced by frustrated attentiveness.

This whole time I’ve been thinking she’d be cast out and placed under some exorcism for daring to be queer. Now, what?

“Liv, I’m not trying to hide you. I promise.”

“Then why--”

“You saw how she knew how to connect your name to your Mom in two seconds flat. They don’t just care to know names. Now, they don’t just know you’re name, they know your family, and any and all related gossip. That’s what they do: it’s either fame, gossip, or money. You have to trust me.”

Olivia looks at her, hands in her pockets balling into fists. So what is so bad about being snobby? If it was such a sin, half the town would be cast into hellfire. No use for their pretty churches then.

“Okay,” she concedes, albeit hesitantly. “Just...just remember what it’s like for me, okay? I hate to bring up the flyers, but…”

“Knowing and being known by my family won’t solve any of that,” she caveats, before daring to reach out for her hand. Olivia reaches and takes hold. “We deserve the time it takes to just be us and get to know each other.”

“I agree,” she sighs, and tries to shake loose of the duress. And how long is that going to take, when everything stays a mystery?

“Thank you,” Cassandra says sincerely, rubbing the back of her hand with a thumb. It’s soothing. So much so, Olivia resolves the remaining distance between them and brings herself into Cassandra’s chest. It’s her turn to wrap her arms around her and not want to let go.

She reciprocates, the side of her chin resting against Olivia’s head of hair. “Just let me get through the finals, and then I’ll have more time,” she swears with a renewed sweetness.

Olivia closes her eyes and hides her face in Cassandra’s chest, her voice muffled against her clothes. “When will my girlfriend return from the soccer war?”

Cassandra laughs a bit. “Tell you what, she’s on leave tonight, why don’t you come over and we can watch a movie. Your turn to pick.”

“For this...oh, you’re getting Kill Bill.”

“Volume one or two?”

“Both,” still muffled, but adamant. “How dare you suggest we only watch one?”

Cassandra smirks and rubs Olivia’s arms, generating more warmth for both of them. “How foolish of me. You have a deal.”

“I’m also ordering takeout. Ellinor told me all you do with Cullen lately is drink protein shakes and lie.”

“Um, I eat three square meals a day. It’s not my fault Cullen chases his shakes with toaster strudel.”

Olivia giggled again. Her face has become too warm to break from this pose. They’re going to freeze there forever, she decides. Forget the movie and takeout.

“Come on,” Cassandra pats her on the shoulders. “Let’s get this shit put away, and then you can read me the DoorDash menu on the way back.”

“Mm, keep talking dirty like that, the war can shove it.”

More laughter, and thank goodness for it.

#day & age #friendship fic #ellinor trevelyan #olivia sinclair #college au

14 notes · View notes

what-stop-the-presses-rly-means · 5 years

Text

Anonymous

Davey Jacobs x gender neutral reader modern au

Warnings: slight swearing

———————–

I sighed as I doodled little flowers in my notebook. It had only been two hours since my shift started, but it felt like ten. When I applied for this job at the campus library I was thrilled. I would get to work with books, be in a quiet and calming environment, and I could work on homework in my down time. What I had not been prepared for, however, was the sheer amount of boredom I’d be feeling. I did the reading for my classes and got a jumpstart on my research paper. There weren’t many people in the library today so my job was to sit here and wait. Now I just wanted something, anything remotely exciting to happen.

As if some deity had answered my prayers, a familiar boy walked through the front doors. I watched Davey make a beeline over to a shelf, face looking determined. It made me smile. Whenever he was on a mission, it was like nothing else mattered, he focused solely on the task at hand.

I met Davey when I first started working here a couple months ago. He came to the library almost every day for one reason or another. At first it was just offhand comments about the books we were currently reading or whichever classes were kicking our ass. After a while, the conversations lasted a little longer and became a little more personal. (I learned that he is the third generation of his family to go to this school, he’s switched his major four times because he’s so unsure what he wants to do and he’s afraid to let his family down if he picks the wrong one, and that he has a younger brother that he absolutely adores.) And now, even though it hasn’t been said out loud, I would call us friends. Sure, we haven’t talked outside of the library, but that was fine, I liked it this way.

Thinking he’d probably take a while, picking the perfect book, I leaned over my notebook again. This time, as if my hand had a mind of its own, I was doodling hearts all over the paper.

Then a soft voice startled me out of my reverie. “Excuse me, Miss. I’d hate to distract you from the work you’re so incredibly invested in, but I’d like to check out a book.” I looked up at Davey, who gave me the most charming smile, and couldn’t help but smile back.

“What? And actually do my job? Who do you think I am?”

He laughed. “Careful. Draw one too many hearts and someone might accuse you of being in loooove.”

I rolled my eyes. “And wouldn’t you just love that? Is your life so devoid of anything exciting that my possible love interest is entertaining to you?”

“You know very well that both of our lives are devoid of excitement. Why do you think we spend so much time in the library?”

“Rude! I happen to work here. What’s your excuse?” He blushed a little bit.

“Books can be exciting. They’re full of adventure and action. The most incredible stories come from places like this.”

I reached out and patted his shoulder. “That’s all fine and good, but just make sure you don’t use that line on anyone else. They may not appreciate it as much as me,” I laughed.

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, can I check out this book so I can walk away from you and never come back?”

“Oh honey, you could never leave me if you tried. But yes, you can check it out.” He kept his hands behind his back and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Okay, let me guess.” I narrowed my eyes at him and pursed my lips, pretending to think. This was a little game we played every time he selected a book. I guessed correctly about half the time. “I’m gonna guess you picked out a book for AP Literature because you’ve been worried about your grade in that class. Shakespeare, obviously. And I’m gonna go with Romeo and Juliet. You know the story, of course, but you’re gonna spend hours trying to ‘read between the lines’ to fully understand the story before you write your paper.”

He gave me a bewildered look. “How… did you know that?” I leaned back with a satisfied smile.

“Because I know you and you’re not too hard to figure out. Some people like to use the power of seduction to impress people. I like to use the power of deduction.” After a moment, the smile dropped from my face. “And now that I’ve said that out loud I realize how dorky that sounded so I take it back. Also, I saw you walk over to the Shakespeare section so it wasn’t a difficult guess.”

Davey let out an uncharacteristically loud laugh, earning a shush or two from the few people studying. He blushed again and put the copy of Romeo and Juliet on the counter.

“You know, a lesser man would’ve said you cheated. But I’ll give you this one.”

I scanned the book. “Ah, but a greater man wouldn’t have been so predictable to begin with. You know everyone in your class is gonna write about this play, right?”

He put the book in his messenger bag. “Yes, but by the time I’m done I’m going to know the ins and outs of Romeo and Juliet so well, you’ll think Billy Shakespeare wrote the analysis, himself.”

“Well, I hope you’re right. See you tomorrow when you ultimately decide to use a different book.” I wiggled my fingers at him in a wave. He rolled his eyes good naturedly and saluted me.

“Yeah, yeah, see you then.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but the next day was even slower. There were more people in the building, sure, but everyone was doing their own thing. No one wanted to check anything out. To make matters worse, Davey hadn’t come in today. He might be staying away to make a point that I don’t know him that well and that he will stick with the book. But even so, he sometimes came in just to talk.

I needed to calm down. He’s probably busy, like every other student around here. He doesn’t owe me anything. I hadn’t realized just how much I relied on his little visits. It was weird to depend so much on a person that I didn’t even know outside of work. Were there some legitimate feelings there? Maybe. I hadn’t really thought about it. He was just the cute guy that talked to me about our shared interests. And made me laugh. And was really sweet and funny and charming. Oh crap.

Well, it didn’t matter either way. He definitely didn’t feel that way about me. I was just someone he could have a nice conversation with before he left to go on and do bigger and better things. All I do is go to class and sit in this chair, waiting for someone to say more to me than, “I’d like to check this out, please.” He probably had a bunch of genius friends who write novels and discuss politics. They probably have exciting, fulfilling lives day-to-day. What’ve I got?

So it’s settled. In the span of five minutes I’ve discovered new found feelings for my non-friend, and then squashed them down as soon as I knew what they were… And I wonder why all I’ve done since I started college was go to class and then the library.

My shift was almost over so I cleaned up my station and walked over to the book return to put away the last of them before I left. Down at the bottom, underneath a large dictionary, was an envelope.

“What the-? Did someone think this was a mailbox?” I picked it up and turned it over. My breath hitched when I saw my name written on the front. Looking around, as if the sender was still going to be around, I sat back down and opened it. Inside was a nice piece of stationary and the handwriting was neat, as if the person took the time to put some care into writing it:

“O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright!

It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night

Like a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear-

Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear.

So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows

As yonder lady o’er her fellows shows.

The measure done, I’ll watch her place of stand

And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand.

Did my heart love till now?

Forswear it, sight,

For ne’er saw true beauty till this night.”

That was it. No explanation, no name, nothing. Were they talking about me? It was obviously addressed to me. This had to be a prank. That’s the only explanation. Some asshole saw me sitting here like some lonely loser and thought they’d have a laugh, seeing me gush over some anonymous love letter.

I was about to get up and throw it away, but I couldn’t. What if, by some small miracle, it was real? What if someone actually quoted this declaration of love to me because they actually like me? Could that happen? In real life?

I carefully folded the paper back into the envelope and placed it in my bag as I got up to leave.

—-

I had read and re-read the note a hundred times since yesterday. I still couldn’t believe someone took the time to write it all out and give it to me. I discovered it was a passage from Romeo and Juliet and my mind immediately went to Davey. But there was no way… right? He barely knows me and besides, he probably has a bunch of intellectual girls knocking down his door to even think about me. No, it couldn’t be him. Could it?

“What are you thinking about so hard?” I jumped a little in my seat.

“Do you make it a habit to sneak up on me at work?”

Davey smirked. “All I do is come to the check-out counter and use my inside voice. It’s not my fault you’re probably harboring some big secrets that make you act guilty.” I narrowed my eyes at him a little, deciphering whether or not he was joking.

“What kind of secret would I be hiding?”

He looked a little taken aback. “Like… you want me to guess? Is this our new game? Okay. Hmm. You’re really an undercover assassin that’s been hired to murder anyone who has a late fee?” I furrowed my brow at him.

“I’m gonna go with no. But good guess.”

“Okay, fine, let’s see. Last I saw you, you were doodling hearts in your notebook. You’ve been daydreaming more often. And you’re dressing in a nicer fashion.” I glanced down at the outfit I spent forever picking out this morning. “I’m gonna go with: You have a crush on someone.” I blushed a little, at which he smirked. “You’re not the only one who’s good at deduction.”

I cleared my throat. “Don’t get too cocky just yet. You’re wrong. Actually, you might be able to help me with something.” I reached into my bag and pulled out the envelope and handed it to him. “This was given to me yesterday. Well, I mean, I found it. What do you think it means?” I watched him open the letter and read it, looking for some kind of… something on his face. When he was done, he looked up at me.

“You mean, like, you want me to translate what it says?”

I gave him a bored look. “No… I looked it up on Google, I know what it says,” I mumbled. “I mean, what does the whole thing mean? Why would someone just give that to me?” He handed it back to me with a small smile.

“I’d say I was half right before. Someone has a crush, but it’s on you.”

I gave him a skeptical look. “How can you be sure? There’s no explanation. Just a few lines from a play.”

“I’m no expert, but if someone wrote on and on about my beauty, albeit through the words of Shakespeare, I wouldn’t take it lightly.”

“Okay, but what do I do about it? It’s not like I can return the favor. I have no idea who they are.”

“Just give it time. Maybe they’ll send more.”

“Oh, wipe that smug look off your face.”

“I will when you stop blushing.” I leaned over and hid my face in my arms. “Oh, don’t be like that. It’s cute, in a way.”

I waved him off without looking up. “Just go away and do whatever Davey’s do when they’re not in the library.”

I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “So, drinking unholy amounts of coffee while nitpicking every paper I write because I’m a perfectionist and ultimately stressing myself out so much that I imagine running away to live in the Shire? I’m not scheduled to do that ‘til six.” I couldn’t help the smile that graced my face.

“Actually, I see you running more toward Hogwarts than anything,” I say, looking up at him.

He smiled. “Then I’d just stress over my magical tests.”

“Hey, at least they’d be about magic, instead of algebra or the history of the printing press.”

“Fun fact about the printing press-“

“And I’m leaving you now!” I got up to put some books away as he laughed behind me.

—-

It’s been over a week since I received the note and I had actually started to forget about it. I had given up the little hope that I had allowed myself to feel that I’d receive any more, after the first couple days. Now the note was lying at the bottom of my desk drawer back in my dorm instead of on me at all times. It was time to stop living in my fantasy world and get back to reality. Though it was ironic to think such things when I spent half my time in the library, surrounded by fantasies and did little to stop myself from daydreaming. But baby steps I guess.

I walked in a few minutes before my shift and saw Katherine, my coworker, talking to her boyfriend.

“Hey now, this is work time, not flirty time,” I laughed as I walked behind the counter to set my stuff down. “Hi, Jack.” The man leaning on the counter tipped his hat at me. Katherine turned to me, smiling.

“Oh, so you’re allowed to flirt with Davey damn near every day, but I can’t talk to my boyfriend?”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “Wait. Davey Jacobs? You got the hots for my boy, Davey?” I was in the middle of taking off my jacket and paused, looking over at the two of them.

“Yes, Davey Jacobs. No, I do not have ‘the hots’ for him. He just comes in and we talk.”

Katherine scoffed. “You’re being modest. He only comes in when you’re working- I once even saw him walk in, see it was me behind the counter, and leave- and you guys make googly eyes at each other the entire time.”

Jack’s smirk could cut glass. “Oh, I am gonna give him so much shit for that. That’s adorable! I’ve noticed he’s had more of a spring in his step lately. I left my clothes on the floor the other day and he didn’t even lecture me. He’s got it bad.”

“Okay, you’re both crazy, which means you’re perfect for each other.” I grabbed Katherine by the arm and lifted her out of my chair. “Go off and be crazy together now, and leave me in peace.”

“So you don’t want this letter that was left for you in the book return earlier?” She waved a small envelope with my name on it in front of my face. My eyes widened and I’m ashamed to say I lunged at it. She pulled back, laughing.

“First, admit I’m right, then you can have it. You owe me. It’s been killing me, not opening this all day.”

I sat back. “I’ll admit that you have been right in the past and that your powers of perception are brilliant at times, so it’s no wonder you think that you’re right this time.” Katherine glanced at Jack, who shrugged.

“I think that’s the best you’re gonna get.” She sighed and handed it over. It had the same neat handwriting. I was nervous to open it, especially in front of these two, but my curiosity outweighed any nerves. Just like the first one, this note was written on stationary and folded with care. With trembling hands, I unfolded it:

“But nothing I have seen in the world has supported your pronouncements that love is more powerful than my kind of magic, Dumbledore.”

“Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places.”

Again, that was it. No signature, no reasoning for the word choice, no trace of who could have sent it. I let out a sigh and looked up at my little audience.

“Well?” Katherine asked, exasperated. I just handed the paper over to them. “A quote from Harry Potter?”

��The Order of the Phoenix,” Jack clarified. We both gave him weird looks. “Hey, I read! What do you think it means?”

I shook my head. “No idea. The first note quoted Shakespeare and now this.”

“Wait, hold up,” Katherine interjected. “This isn’t the first one you’ve gotten?”

“I mean, it’s only the second. They’ve been anonymously placed in the book return.”

Katherine squealed a little. “Oh my god, you have a secret admirer!” A loud “SHHH!” came from behind her. “Oh, shhh yourself!” She turned back to me. “What are you gonna do?”

“There’s nothing I can do! I have no idea who’s sending them.”

“I’ll bet I can hack into the security footage from the camera outside to see who’s been putting things in the return.” Jack and I gave her bewildered looks. “Hey, I can hack!”

“You don’t need to risk expulsion on my behalf. It’s probably better I don’t know.”

“Let me see the note again.” I handed it to Jack. He ran his fingers around the fancy border of the stationary and a wide grin split across his face as he handed it back to me.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. You’re right, we’ll probably never find out. Anyway, we should probably let you get to work. Come on, Katherine.”

“But-“

“Come on.” He put his arm around her and started walking toward the exit. As he opened the door, they almost ran into someone.

“Oh, hey, DAVEY!” he said exaggeratingly loud. “FANCY SEEING YOU HERE!” Davey stared after them as they left. I groaned as I pulled out my notebooks.

“What was that all about? Did Jack say anything to you? Anything weird? I mean, more so than normal?”

“I don’t even know anymore,” I said as I looked down at my history notes that I had no intention of studying. “He’s always been weird, and he’s dragging Katherine down with him.”

Davey chuckled. “Yeah, but they seem happy. Love, however weird, is in the air. Embrace it.”

“Speaking of that…” I hesitated. Should I talk to him about it? He wasn’t too helpful last time, but his heart was in the right place. Screw it. I pulled out the envelope. “Guess who got another anonymous note? I swear, at this point they seem like clues for a scavenger hunt or something.” I handed it to him. He opened it and scanned the words pretty quickly.

“Hmm, not as eloquent as the last one, but still a fairly sweet message. Why do you seem so upset about all of this? Someone has reminisced about your beauty and compared you to the feeling of love. Isn’t that a positive thing?”

“It is. But I’m afraid to fall too deep into this. There are too many variables that could cause a negative outcome. What if they get to know me and I’m not like what they admired from afar? What if they’re wrong for me? What if it’s a creepy old man? What if it’s a prank and I’m falling right into their trap-“ Davey caught my hands that I had been flailing around and held them gingerly.

“Hey, calm down. In order: If they’re admiring you from afar, then they’re just going to be even more enamored by you once they get to know you. If they’re wrong for you, no harm no foul. But it would be their loss. If it’s a creepy old man, just let him down gently. And if that doesn’t work, call the cops. And if it’s a prank, though I doubt anyone would be so cruel, I’ll kick their ass for you.”

I quirked an eyebrow. “I always pegged you as more of the wise wizard than the knight in shining armor. But I’ll take it.”

“Hey, I’m no Dumbledore.” He gestured to the note. “But I’ll take that as a compliment. Anyway, be honest, what do you think of this person?”

I sighed. “I don’t know how to feel about them. How can I feel anything about someone who leaves me quotes from books? I don’t know anything about who they are other than the fact that they read and that they apparently find me appealing.” I laughed. “Which should be enough when I think about it. If I had any less self esteem, I’d be theirs in a heartbeat. I just wish they’d be a little more personal. Put themselves on the page. No, what I really wish is that they’d introduce themselves, but I’ll settle for just a little more personalization. That way I’m not just running through the million questions in my mind about them. I have enough to worry about with classes and studying, I don’t wanna have to worry about this too.”

Davey smiled at me sympathetically. “And you deserve that. If someone cares this much about you, it’s the least they could do.” He squeezed my hands, which were still in his.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

—-

Over the course of the next month I’ve received two more notes. They’re always the same: my name on the envelope, fancy stationary, and a passage of some sort. Nothing else. The third note was by Edgar Allen Poe:

“There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.”

And the fourth was from Through the Looking Glass:

“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently.”

They were all centered around love and beauty. That was the only common theme I could find. I spent countless hours reading them over and over again, trying to find a link between the authors or a hidden message. I found nothing.

It’s been another two weeks since the last note. This time I really started to worry. Was it really a prank? Or did they just lose interest? I shouldn’t get so worked up about a few pieces of paper that really could mean anything. Like I told Davey, I have more important things to worry about.

I was eating lunch under one of the big trees on the quad with a few friends from class. But I was thinking too hard to actually touch any of my food. I turned to the blond boy sitting next to me.

“Race, you’re a guy, right?” Race paused, sandwich halfway to his mouth, as his eyes darted around for a moment.

“Uh, last time I checked.”

I leaned in closer. “So would you say you understand the ins and outs of how guys flirt or try to get attention from someone they like?”

“I guess so.” He set down his sandwich and gave me his full attention. “What’s up? Has a guy been giving you mixed signals? Because if that’s the case, he’s probably not doing it on purpose. We’re not that complicated.”

I laughed a bit at that. “Kinda? Not really mixed, per se, more like not giving enough signals… sorta.” He gave me a questioning look, so I continued. “I’ve been getting anonymous love notes, if you can even call them that. Just nice quotes from books with no other information. What does that mean?”

Race smirked at me. “Ah, Jack did mention that you got yourself a little secret admirer. Now, this is a little out of my wheelhouse ‘cause I’m more of a straightforward kinda guy.”

“Yeah, no kidding. You hit on me the first day of class.”

“Yes, and you shot me down in a very cruel manner while I was vulnerable putting myself out there. I’m still waiting for an apology.”

“All you said was, ‘Nice ass, what’s your name?’ and I told you, ‘I know, and none of your business.’”

“Yet one week later we were friends. So you gotta admit it kind of works.”

I punched his shoulder. “We’re getting off track here. Am I wasting my time hoping that something could come out of this?”

“That depends on how you look at it. From what I can tell, this mystery person is the only one who can pull the strings on this little thing you guys got going. So you can wait for them to grow some balls and reveal themselves and do what you will from there. Or you can take all of this at face value and accept the compliments, let them brighten your day a little, but move on afterwards. Because you’ll drive yourself crazy if you try to get involved. It’s basically just a waiting game at this point.”

I nodded as I took it all in. “Thanks.” He placed a hand on my shoulder.

“No problem.”

“When did you get smart?” He used the same hand to push me over, making me laugh. I pushed him back.

“Hey now, no violence. Save that for someone who really deserves it.” Jack sat down next to us and turned to Race. “Oh, it’s just Racer. Yeah he probably deserves, it. Continue.” Race flipped him off and went back to eating. Jack looked down at the book in my lap.

“Seriously? You’re reading during your lunch hour? Don’t you get enough of that from class and work?”

“Shut up, this is a good one.”

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “You sound just like Davey. You know, he’s been constantly reading. Every time I see him he’s got his nose in some poetry book. Either that, or practicing calligraphy. I swear, he’s an immortal being from the 1800’s or something.”

“Don’t hate. Some people happen to like the arts. It’s no different than you and your painting.”

He gasped and put his hand on his chest dramatically. “How dare you compare my favorite pastime with your nerdy nonsense! I am not one of you!”

I scoffed and looked back down at my book. “Yeah and you also read Harry Potter so you’re not far from it.”

“Circling back to what I said earlier, go back to beating each other up. You both deserve it.”

—-

It had been a long day. I was ready to go home and sleep for as long as possible before I had to get back up and do this all over again. It was just one of those days. I haven’t talked to Davey in forever because he was busy with schoolwork, and my other friends seemed busy with their social lives. I only really talked to Katherine, but it was only in passing as we switched shifts. But that’s how things go, I guess.

I was about to head out as I heard a faint thud come from behind me. Something was dropped into the return, but it was lighter than a book.

“No… It can’t be…” I peered inside and, lo and behold, there was another envelope. I gently picked it up and read my name. Making a quick decision, I stuffed it into my bag and walked back to my dorm. I’d gotten a bunch of these already, so why was I so nervous to read one now?

I walked in and quickly locked the door. Shucking off my coat and shoes, I sat on my bed and placed the note in front of me. Taking a deep breath, I opened it. Something caught my eye, something new. There was a sticky note on top of the folded note:

“Sorry this took so long. I wanted it to be perfect.” For some reason this made me even more nervous. The mystery person had never spoken directly to me like that before. Willing my hands to stop shaking, I unfolded it:

You don’t notice that you play with your hair when you’re nervous. But I do.

You don’t think people will like you if you talk about books. But I do.

You don’t realize your laugh is the best sound anyone could hear. But I do.

You don’t see how much you’ve changed my life. But I do.

You don’t think anyone notices you. But I do.

You don’t know that you deserve to be loved.

But I do.

I slowly lowered it onto my lap. Did they… did they write this? About me? For me? I had no words. I had said I wanted a little more personalization to these notes, but I never expected this.

My phone buzzed next to me, making me jump. When I saw the caller ID I answered.

“H-Hey, Kath. What’s up?”

“Hey, I don’t have much time, but I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Jack? I’m doing fine. What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing. I just wanted to make sure everything is good, see if you’ve gotten any more notes. Did you just so happen to get another note today?”

I furrowed my brow. “Uh, yeah… How did you know that?” I could practically see the giant smile on his face. “Just a guess. I definitely didn’t see a particular person put an envelope in their bag and walk with purpose in the direction of the library earlier. Not at a-“

“JACK KELLY!”

I pulled the phone away from my ear as Katherine screamed. There was shuffling on the other end before I heard Katherine again.

“Sorry about that. He stole my phone when I went to the bathroom. Don’t listen to him.” She paused. “Though I do really hope you are getting something out of those notes. And I hope they reveal themselves soon.”

“What are you guys talking ab-“

“Got to go, bye!” And she hung up. I glanced back down at the poem. The poem written about me. The poem written by someone who seems to know a lot about me. The poem that was incredibly sweet and from the heart. But who wrote it? Who’s been sending these notes? Who cared this much about me?

I thought back on the last month. I went over all the information I had about this situation in my head, including my friends’ weird behavior. And then my jaw dropped.

—-

The next morning I got up bright and early to go back to work. I waved to my other coworker as they left and got settled. I hadn’t been sitting for more than two minutes when Davey walked up to the counter.

“What are you doing here so early? You never come here in the mornings.”

“Hello to you, too. Wow, you haven’t seen me in days and the first thing you do is question why you’re seeing me now? That hurts. You wound me.”

I rolled my eyes and smiled. “Hello, Davey. I’ve missed you. My days were unbearable without you. Please never leave me again,” I said sarcastically.

“Damn straight. But if you must know, other than to see your beautiful smile, I’m here to grab a book before I head to my business lecture. I need something to read while I’m not paying attention.”

“Woah, you’re gonna blatantly, premeditatively ignore a lecture? What’s gotten in to you?”

He gave me a little smug smile. “I don’t know, just learning that there are more important things than worrying about grades.” I gave him a disbelieving look. “…Also, I read ahead in the textbook so I already know everything that’s going to be said.”

“Now, that I believe. What are you checking out?”

“What, you’re not going to guess?” He looked at me expectantly with his hands behind his back.

“Sorry, my head’s been all over the place lately. You win this game for once.”

His smile dropped. “Why’s that?”

I fiddled with my hair for a moment. Huh, I do play with it when I’m nervous. “I got another note from the mystery person. You know how I said I wanted them to be personal?”

“Yeah.”

I looked up at him for a moment, and then just handed it to him. He carefully unfolded it and took his time reading. When he looked up, he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

“What did you think when you read it?”

“Well, it’s definitely an improvement,” I laughed. “It made me feel special. And it made me feel appreciated and loved. Like I wasn’t just some nerdy student who spends their time reading and doing schoolwork. Like I was someone worth knowing.”

He gave me a small smile. “You seem to really like this person now. Does this mean you’re divorcing me?”

“It’s already been filed. Expect the papers in the mail in 3 to 5 business days.”

Davey clutched his chest dramatically. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to go on without you. Who will give me a hard time when I try to act cool? Who will make fun of me when I get too nerdy?”

I scanned the book he dropped on the counter. “I’m sure Jack will have that covered, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, but he’s not you.” I looked up at him. I couldn’t help the blush that spread across my face but I didn’t dare break eye contact. All traces of joking had left his face as we looked into each others’ eyes.

I cleared my throat and held the book out to him. “Here. You’re gonna be late, and you still need to order your morning coffee before you go to class.”

He blinked a couple times. “You think you know me so well.” He accepted the book, making our fingers brush and my heart speed up. “And you kinda do.” He smiled brightly. “See you later.” Giving me his signature salute, he walked outside.

I watched through the window as he opened the cover of the book, eyes widening, followed by a small smile. No doubt reading the note I placed inside:

I thought about what I should write over and over again. I couldn’t decide which book or poem to quote. I wanted to match your eloquence but nothing came to mind. So I’m writing down my current thoughts. We’ve got a lot in common. We both love books, we make the stupidest puns, and we get super stressed when it comes to schoolwork. But we are also both really bad at expressing how we feel straight and outright. So one of us is going to have to break the cycle. Why not me? I really like you, David Jacobs. There, I said it. You don’t need to decode this note, there’s no hidden meaning. So why don’t we cut the crap and skip ahead in the story to the part where we’re finally happy? (Though you can still send me poems. I really do like them.)

Followed by my phone number and a little message at the end: Now THAT’S how you leave a love note!

#davey jacobs #david jacobs #davey jacobs x reader #david jacobs x reader #look! i wrote something!#mine #newsies #anonymous

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hirohamadugh · 5 years

Text

THE ENHANCED

Part 1 | Part 2! | Part 3 | Visual of Issac

Suddenly, everything was happening at once. The capsule doors slid open to reveal Issac to the world, and to reveal the world to Issac. His eyes flew open as he urgently gasped his first breaths, ripped out of his peaceful stasis and thrust into being. Chris and Liv caught Issac’s body as he stumbled out of the chamber in a gangly and uncoordinated way, well-versed in the symptoms of sudden life before.

“Breathe,” Liv coerced, as the boy was still sucking in air frantically and posed himself the risk of hyperventilation. He’d only been alive for less than a minute, and it had already been so overwhelming that he passed out. She tore her gaze away from her newest creature, making eye contact with Chris to obtain his attention. “Lower him to the ground. Let the overstimulation pass before we try to teach him anything.”

The two gently dropped Issac’s body until he laid flat on his back, breaths finally starting to teeter into the heavy-but-unthreatening phase. He may have been a newborn, but Issac was no infant: all subjects of the Living Immunity Vectors program were born as fully formed young adults.

“Help me dress him,” the blonde woman ordered, tossing a pair of gray joggers to her assistant as she wrestled the boy into a perfectly color-matched crewneck with the Sycorax double-stranded helix logo embossed on the chest. Kneeling beside him on the ground now, Liv began checking over his physical attributes to see if anything had gone obviously wrong in the altered genetic coding, but was pleased to find no anomalies. Chris was silent once he’d finished his part as well, staring at the boy whose eyes dazedly opened and began to search every little aspect of the room. Looking between the two men, it was clear they were related somehow, but not to any great length. They had the same physical build, hair texture, and facial structure, but that seemed to be where the similarities stopped. Chris’s complexion was much fairer than Issac’s, Issac’s eye color was brown vs. Chris’s hazel, the older boy’s hair was blonder and shorter… The list went on and on, and the more Chris stared, the more differences he noticed.

“Issac,” Liv spoke, very eager to see if her latest trials proved a success or not. “Can you understand me?”

The tanned boy just stared blankly back at her as she spoke, a lack of concentration obvious as his attention easily sidetracked to the control panels quietly beeping and flashing as always. “Issac!”

When he failed once again to respond, Liv rolled her eyes, annoyed that her hope had been squashed. “Whatever,” she huffed, very rapidly losing interest now that he was just another in vitro case study, no better than her last improvement. “Chris, carry him to his room with Hailey and prep the first coordinated movement lesson for in an hour. I want Elliot keeping an eye on him to ensure he doesn’t enter a state of panic, and to let me know if there’s any sort of worry whatsoever.”

“Wait, what do you mean my room with me?”

Both Liv and Chris froze, as the boy who was born less than five minutes ago just asked a fully functional and correct syntax sentence in a language he was never taught. Their gazes bore deep into Issac’s soul, as he propped himself up into a sitting position. “What??” He asked, knitting his eyebrows down in confusion on why they were looking at him as if he were a ghost.

“Hailey,” Chris said, making the connection.

“Yes??”

“Of course he would respond to Hailey!! It worked!” The blonde woman hugged her assistant out of glee, while Issac pushed himself off the ground and up into a standing position.

“Is there something I’m missing here, Ms. Amara?”

Liv was near tears, and turned to place her hands on Issac’s shoulders in an almost loving way. “You’re not Hailey,” she breathed out quietly, which was met with a face of extreme confusion from the newborn. “You’re Issac. You’ll understand soon enough.” The tender moment over, she turned to her assistant: “Make sure his acclimatization finds him well, will you? Get him caught up on everything she’s learned since upload so they can be taught together. I want his baseline vitals recorded tonight as well. I’m going to go record this in his file.”

Chris took the other male’s forearm and began to redirect him towards the living quarters. Somewhere deep inside himself, Issac knew where he was going, but he couldn’t quite visualize it completely. “What does she mean, I’m Issac?”

The blonde man smiled sympathetically, stealing a glance over as he continued to walk. “You probably don’t have complete access to all your memories yet. Hailey,” Issac’s head instinctively popped up at the girl’s name, still failing to dissociate her from himself, “She’s the one who was born before you. She’s a couple months old now. She’s learned how to walk, how to talk, how to behave in general, some basic biology concepts…” Chris trailed off, before stopping and putting his hand on Issac’s shoulder. “It’s taken her all this time just to learn that, you know? Despite the fact we all learn incredibly fast for humans, it still takes a long while.” He touched his own temple, a small gesture for any normal-grown adult, but incredibly advanced of a social nuance for someone who’s less than 2 years old like himself. “She allowed us to extract, replicate, and upload her consciousness into you so we didn’t have to waste all that time and energy teaching you the basics.” Chris turned and began his brisk pace once more, leading the other boy around a bend as he continued to explain. “Maybe you’ll get them all, maybe you won’t, but the fact you’re talking and walking and understanding… That’s all really promising.”

Issac stared at his hands as he listened to the older boy, fixated on the minor details. While what Chris was explaining sounded ridiculous, he did have a sense of Déjà vu while the assistant had been describing it. In addition, his fingers were thicker than he remembered them being, plus his body was more boxy in general; this would add up if Chris was telling the truth, and he really was a new person in a new body. “So my memories… aren’t mine?”

“Not exactly. But from here on out they are!” Chris smiled oh-so-cheerily as he dexterously input his biometrics on the reader that disabled the semi-transparent gate into what would become Issac’s new home. Inside he saw a girl sitting on her bed, she was wearing the exact same outfit as he and reading from a tablet. Issac instantly recognized her. That’s me. I mean Hailey. I guess not me.

As soon as the cell was disabled, the girl’s attention immediately fixated on the two men, and she smiled slightly. Jumping down from her bed, Hailey tossed the tech haphazardly onto it and walked right up to her new roommate, as everyone but Chris lived in pairs. “So, you’re Issac,” she stated matter-of-factly, tilting her head slightly in examination of the new boy’s facial features.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied, having a minor out-of-body experience due to seeing what he thought was himself standing and talking right in front of him. “Thought I was you, but I’m not.”

Hailey cracked a small laugh, and her smile instinctively made him show one in return. “So I see the uploading-thing worked! Very exciting…” She pursed her lips, kicking one foot lightly before refocusing on Chris. “And… Very sorry for all those involved that there will now be two of me!”

The blonde boy chuckled, and Issac didn’t fully understand why, but nevertheless he felt the need to do the same as if he got the joke. “Should make it easy to get along,” Chris mentioned, before crossing the room to the other, neatly made bed that lay opposite of Hailey’s. “Issac, this is your bed, your wardrobe is,”

“Over there,” Issac interrupted, pointing to the sliding door that conjoined he and Hailey’s closets, which were both unsurprisingly filled with more grey outfits like the ones they wore. “I’m remembering,” he stated bluntly, walking to the back of the room where the restricted-access CPU and medical recording instruments were set up. “Ms. Amara said she needed my vitals, right? Are you taking them, or is…” Issac pinched the bridge of his nose, tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth as he desperately tried to grasp at a taunting memory of Hailey’s morning check-ins for the name of the man who performed them.

“Elliot?” Hailey offered, pleased to see he was already remembering details from her life.

“Yes!” Issac exclaimed, to which Chris nodded.

“I’ll go get him to take your baseline stats. Be right back.” The blonde man walked out of the room, and thanks to the floor sensors detecting his biosignature leaving, the honeycomb-esque field was secured once more, keeping the two subjects where they were supposed to be.

“How are you feeling?” Hailey broke the silence between them, walking over to where Issac was inspecting the sphygmomanometer cuff. “I can remember it was… Scary, when I was born. Not knowing where or what anything is. Just seeing Ms. Amara and Chris staring down at me, like I was a circus monkey and they wanted me to do a trick or something.”

“It was very strange to see things you’ve never seen before… Yet remember them.” Issac turned to look at her, noticing she must’ve been pretty buff to look so strong despite all their loose clothing.

“I know,” she confessed, shoving her hands in her pockets due to not knowing what to do with them. “I was one of the failed attempts to do this to. They tried with Gabriel, the guy born before me, tried uploading him to me, but I only ever got small bits and pieces, so it was hard with a sense of both familiarity and newness to get adjusted.” She averted her gaze for a moment, feigning to check if the older boys had returned. “Chris was the first one of us ever, although sorry if I’m just repeating what you already recall. I wonder what it was like for him.” She refocused on the new boy, pressing her lips together slightly in thought. “He was never really like the rest of us, though. He’s always been allowed upstairs.”

“And what’s upstairs?” Issac asked, genetic predisposition to curiosity and answering questions making themselves prominent.

“The world,” Hailey replied, a small and almost sad smile across her face. “If we work hard enough and prove ourselves like he has, we can start actually working for Sycorax up there too.” She fiddled with her umber colored braid to avoid overthinking the possibilities, knowing very well she was way ahead of herself in thinking about those kinds of things. “It’s a biology place, though, so we need to get really good at that first before anything happens. Do you remember anything I’ve learned about biology?”

“I know that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

Hailey let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head just a bit at his first jumped-to fact. “You’ll do fine, I’m sure of it. I’m glad you were at least able to be the protégé that I was not!”

“Not to sound rude, since I’ve had probably a whole 35 minutes of socialization practice-so bear with me, but why do you care?” Issac mirrored the pose she had taken earlier, with his hands in his own pockets now. “Why do you want me to succeed? Why me?”

The girl looked away, afraid to open up Pandora’s box of voids she was trying to fill. “You… After they asked me about possibly doing the upload, I peeked into your ongoing file and cross-compared it to my own. You and I share 72.18% of our DNA.” Hailey looked at him now, and he could see the sense of hope and longing in her eyes. “Look,” she said, bending over to the restricted database beside them and shutting off the monitor, leaving just a reflective black screen staring back at them. “Do you see how much we look alike?”

Leaning over to peer into the haphazard mirror as well, Issac saw it. He and Hailey had the same exact eyes, the same hair color, the same complexion, it was almost uncanny. He had a slightly more robust stature, she had a teensy bit thinner eyebrows, but besides minor details the two looked like they were copied and pasted onto each other. “The closest relatedness of anyone else of the enhanced is Elliot and Faye, and even that is only about 54%. The rest of us range from mid 20s to early 40s.” She placed her hand atop his on the back of the chair, her dark eyes piercing him with a sense of utter care and a bit sense of self as well. “Issac, I care because… well, you’re the closest thing to a brother I will ever have. And there’s nothing more important to me than my family.”

#Sycorax AU #the enhanced #city of monsters #bh6 oc #issac #oc issac #big hero 6 the series #liv amara #chrissistant #sycorax #big hero 6 #bh6 the series #big hero 6 the series s2 #bh6 chris #big hero 6 the series spoilers #bh6 the series spoilers

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 5 years

Note

Thank you, love! Can I please have a double ship? I’m a fat bottomed girl who is a tomboy - I’m not into typical “girly” stuff and I love hanging around with boys discussing politics, sports (I’m a huge sports nerd), listening to metal. I love war movies and am interested in history (WWII especially) though I’m studying Journalism. I also don’t like wearing skirts or dresses or heels. I’m a loyal friend who will always be there to listen and help you. I’m very clumsy and often trip over my feet.

Sssssssshello fellow sports fan (i’m not even joking even though that sounds so nerdy) so what do u think about the kc royals i know they suck ass but like.... im so dedicated to my boys and i’ve seen them kick the yankees ass at yankee stadium (FUCK YOU JOE MAZZELLO)

ships r below the cut sjkdfjkds

For BoRhap, I ship you with Joe Mazzello!

For obvious reasons - I mean, a girl that’s into sports and is extremely loyal? Joey Mazz would bus a nutttt

Anyways, you’d probably meet Joe while doing some work as a sports journalist. Deciding against the box seat that you usually took during a Yankee’s game for focus reasons, you opted to sit down with the public in the stands, and you got seated next to Joe.

Joe was respectable enough for most of the game - once he got a bit loose on the juice, though, he had some mouthy tendencies, and every last word was directed angrily at the officials.

At one point, he was so angry that you couldn’t hold in your laughter as you kept book, missing a tally for a ball but not caring too much as you stared in amazement at the fiery copper-headed man beside you. His double-black Yankees hat fell off of his head as he stood abruptly, and you took your boot-clad feet off of the seat in front of you as you leaned down to grab it for him.

“Fucking terrible call! That was in the strike zone, that ump is full of shit,” he muttered as he sat back down in a huff, pausing before getting a curious look on his face and starting to search for his hat.

“Looking for this?” you asked, a teasing edge to your voice, and Joe’s attention snapped over to you, recognition immediately flooding his eyes as he smiled gratefully and took the hat.

“Thanks a ton, I just can’t stand those damn umps sometimes.” Looking down at the stat book on your tablet, he raised an eyebrow in inquiry before pulling his hat back on his head. “Keeping book for anything special?”

“I work for the New York Post. Sports columnist,” you explained, locking your screen to save battery after a strike was finally called and the fourth inning came to a close. Joe made a ‘not bad’ face, then gave you a grin.

“So, Yankees fan?”

“Uh, you know it,” you scoffed, nodding as you looked out to the field and smiled before making eye contact with him again. He had a kind gaze, you noted, and his smile was just as evident in his eyes as it was in his actual smile. “Wouldn’t miss a game for the world. Not even that exhibit on Governor’s right now.” You felt your stomach flipping a bit, Joe watching you very intently and almost intimidating you with how genuinely invested he was in what you had to say.

“The World War II one?” Joe inquired, and he chuckled when you made a positive noise in response. “I was in a show about WWII a couple years ago. Maybe you’ve heard of it? The Pacific?”

“That was you?” you gasped, involuntarily reaching out and grabbing his arm. Although the both of you registered it, you awkwardly decided not to say anything and just continued talking, Joe trying to mask his reaction at the tingly feeling your touch left on his arm. “Holy shit, I loved that show! I didn’t even recognize you.” Laughing, you let go of his arm and just paused for a moment, recalling how excited you’d been about that miniseries.

“Yeah, not my biggest claim to fame, but definitely up there. Still doesn’t get me recognized at baseball games, though. I got that more in the 90′s.”

“The 90′s - you must have been a baby!” you teased, in disbelief that he was any older than 25. There was no way he was anything but a toddler back in the 90′s.

“God, the closer I get to my 30s, the more that excites me,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I was a little more than a baby back then. I was a whole, grown kid.”

“Grown kid - what a paradox,” you scoffed, giving him a gentle eye roll as a few people around you chuckled at something. “Alright, I’ll bite - in the 90′s, what were you in?”

“Would you believe me if I said some commercials and that was it?” Pursing your lips, you gave him an unmoved look and he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. You were surprisingly adorable despite the currently deadpan expression. In fact, he was beginning to like all of your expressions, and all of your mannerisms. You were pretty laid-back for a woman of your age - like you were comfortable not putting up a front around him and men in general. “I was in Jurassic Park.”

“No way!” you gasped, thinking back to the movie and vaguely remembering a little boy around your age that had resembled him. “Oh my god, all I remember about it is that I wanted to be your friend... and I had an embarrassingly big crush on Jeff Goldblum.”

“Oh god, me too,” Joe agreed, waving a hand dismissively at the thought that anyone didn’t feel things for Jeff Goldblum.

Some faint laughter and shifting glances around you suddenly distracted you from your intense conversation with Joe, and you looked around for a moment before groaning and shielding your eyes at the jumbotron, trying not to laugh. “We’ve been called out.”

Joe looked at the large screen to see the both of you with a superimposed timer beneath you, dubbed the “Oblivious Cam.” You’d both been so invested in the conversation, they’d nearly been timing you for a minute by the time you realized. Waves of embarrassment washed over the two of you as you realized everyone in the stadium had watched what you had assumed was a mainly private interaction. Suddenly, the hand on the arm thing was mortifying.

“Well, at least we look good,” Joe offered, waving to the camera and shrugging before they kicked it off, going into the fifth inning. Joe was right, he did look damn good. And the fact that he thought you looked good too, despite your lack of commonplace women’s wear around a baseball game (see: tight-fitting unbuttoned jerseys, short shorts, heels, etc.). You’d shown out in some jeans and a ratty jersey you’d had since God knows when, with some combat boots to pull it all together. And he still thought you looked good.

He very much did. He thought you looked so good, in fact, that he took you out for drinks after the game. And then sitting down with the public became a regular occurrence for you - even though Joe wasn’t at every game, he showed up to far more games than he would have regularly, just so he could see you. But he’d never admit that, not even up to the day that he asked you out.

Which, of course, you’d been floored - men usually don’t ask out one of the boys. But you said yes, of course! And a couple months later, when he offered to fly you out to California to see the baseball movie he’d been working on about his brother, you jumped at the opportunity.

Mainly because it was an away time for Yankees.

Oops.

When you showed up on set with Joe, the cast immediately welcomed you as one of their own, and you took up residence in the bleachers/near the fence, psyched to see what they were working on for the day and also stoked because you’d probably become an extra because of this appearance. Acting credits on top of journalism? Score.

Today was the day they were filming Pat’s breakdown, and you were excited to see just how riled up Joe could get as you leaned against the admittedly searing-hot chain-link fence. Between takes, Toby, who’d taken quickly to befriending you, came over in all his English glory to visit with you about the upcoming shots.

“You ready to see Spaz Mazz?” he joked, making you laugh at the corny nickname as you nodded, letting go of the chain-link for a moment.

“Absolutely. I’ve seen Joe at baseball games, so can’t wait to see who he absolutely rails today.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day, because it’s me,” Toby chuckled, fixing his hat as Joe caught sight of the two of you, smiling and waving before going back to whatever directorial duties he was working on. Waving back, Toby sighed melodramatically before turning to you. “He yells at quite a few of us, but in the table-read, he really let me have it in this scene. The struggles of being the fun one,” he lamented, making you roll your eyes and wish him good luck as Joe called for the next shot to start.

And in a few moments, you saw exactly what Toby meant. Well, not saw. You just got to listen as Joe absolutely went off on Manny’s character in the dugout, a gleeful laugh leaving your lips as you heard him threaten to shove a bat up Zapata’s ass, then yelling at Palacco for shitting away his talent. After the more emotional part, you burst out laughing when a sudden, “Oh, shut the fuck up, Zapata!” rang in your ears.

Covering your mouth quickly, you resorted to just grinning while you listened to them methodically reconstruct the scene over and over, taking several shots in the mid-afternoon heat before deciding to call it since the lighting was waning, not providing for the right time of day for the shot that was slotted next.

Joe was one of the last to finally filter off the field, finding you immediately and giving you a mildly-tired grin as he wrapped his arm around you, walking off towards the parking lot with you.

“Toby said Seb’s in town and wants to meet up for dinner with Chace and us. You hungry?”

“Starving,” you affirmed, leaning against him a bit as you climbed up the hill. “That was an... interesting performance. You sound a little hoarse.”

“Yelling all day can wear a guy out,” he agreed with a small chuckle, pulling out his keys to his rental and stopping in front of the car to just stand with you for a moment. The eye-black on his cheeks was smeared from sweat, his hair a mess, and you could definitely tell he was slouching a bit, tired from the day’s proceedings.

But he still was smiling down at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back before leaning up and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into an affectionate kiss, which he eagerly reciprocated.

His arms wrapped around your waist, hands resting dangerously low on your back, but not enough to raise alarms, and you grinned against his lips before pressing a gentle peck to the lower one, murmuring just loud enough for him to hear.

“I like the baseball pants look on you.”

A throaty chuckle escaped his mouth and he gave you one last kiss before wrapping an arm around your waist and ushering you to the passenger seat, letting you open the door and start climbing in yourself before he swiftly reached out and pinched your ass, closing the door for you with an innocent grin on his face when you shot him a warning look.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he defended when he climbed into the driver’s seat after a few moments. “You brought up butts and you know yours is my favorite butt.”

“I’m glad,” you laughed, shaking your head as you watched him start the car, sucking your lower lip into your mouth for a moment before grinning mischievously. “But I wasn’t talking about your butt, though that was nice too.”

Joe’s eyes lit up at your statement, a light flush filling his cheeks as he wrestled with what you’d just suggestively implied. Looking over to you, his jack went slightly slack, and all he could manage was a soft “Oh.”

“Smooth, babe. Real smooth.”

“You caught me off guard, come on!”

And for Queen, I ship you with Brian May!

We all know that Brian struggled with being raised as a rather womanly boy, so your more masculine personality equals out beautifully with his feminine tendencies. In categories where he lacks a masculine touch, you make up for that absence, and when you have issues with a feminine touch, he’s right there to help you along.

Synergy!

Plus, heart eye emoji at the fact that you’re a fat-bottomed girl.

Anyways, I think you and Brian would be lifelong friends. The tall ol’ softie never would have survived high school without his loyal best friend, you, to guide him through that emotional rollercoaster.

But I really don’t think you’d have a crush on him at first. I think he’d be absolutely smitten with you from the get-go - you were his rock, the only person to ground him when he got too high-strung. But because of his tendencies to be high-strung and eternally confused, you never saw him as more than a close friend.

That is, until one night that you were hanging out with him and the boys, and Roger had you caught up in a particularly in-depth conversation about Black Sabbath’s eponymous album that had been released recently.

Roger was your go-to for anything metal related, which made Brian only slightly jealous as he watched the two of you intensely discuss whether you appreciated the blues notes that they brought to some of the songs on the album.

“I think The Wizard is the most genius one out of all of them!” Roger gushed, and you nodded in agreement as you listened to him start to ramble on about how much he loved the song. Always the listener, you only let your eyes roam for a brief moment, pausing when you saw Brian just past Roger’s scruffy golden-brown hair.

When he caught your eye, he sent you a small smile and a brief eye roll about Roger’s rants that made you grin, and you quickly looked back to Roger as he summarized his opinion, finally. “I agree, but what about N.I.B? You can’t tell me that it isn’t up there on the quality list.”

When Roger began to dissent against your opinion, you quickly excused yourself to go grab another drink and left him to simmer, instead making your way to the kitchen and pouring yourself the rest of the whiskey as Brian entered.

“Sounds like you guys had some really important stuff to discuss,” Brian observed as he pouted slightly at the empty whiskey bottle, instead fetching himself a beer.

“I love Roger, but he could talk my ear off if I didn’t learn when to say no.” Chuckling, your lanky friend joined you at your side and leaned back against the counter, opening his beer while you took a sip of the whiskey in your cup. He watched as your nose just barely wrinkled compared to the way that his scrunched up after every sip of straight bourbon, and admiration quickly overtook his features, not able to slip away fast enough when you looked up at him.

“What?” you laughed, cocking your head a bit when he smiled at you oddly, sitting his beer on the counter. “I know I left my flat in a hurry, but do I really look that rough today?”

“No, no,” he stammered, laughing nervously as he looked forward to observe your friends out in the living room. His heart was racing, and he feared that you could hear it from that close as he swallowed hard, speaking again. “Far from it.”

That brought a slight blush to your cheeks, and you looked forward as well, your brain racing a million miles a minute as you tried to calm down. Brian usually never made you this flustered, so it was confusing to you that such a simple comment could spike your heart rate so easily. What happened?

Looking over to him again, you desperately tried to work out what was different about Brian now versus every other time he’d made an offhanded flirtatious comment all throughout your childhood. He was still looking at the living room, his eyes brimming with something unreadable, and you realized how much he’d grown from the spindly little straight-haired preppy boy you’d grown up with.

Now he was even taller in multiple ways - of course, his height had shot up, but he also held himself in a more confident way too. He was unafraid for the most part, far from the nervous wreck you’d spent hours upon hours convincing to go do hoodrat shit with you.

He was so sure of things now. Even if he had momentary doubts, he’d never been focused on something more than he was with the band.

And, it did help that he was absolutely beautiful now. He’d began growing out his hair, and the curls that were on constant display were fascinating, jet-black and shiny and tempting to touch. His aquiline nose and toothy smile only added to the charm, all of it wrapped together by the warm hazel eyes that were always watching you, like right now, and suddenly you realized you were both staring at each other a moment too late as Roger came in, looking between the two of you.

Deciding against the obvious question, he instead raised an eyebrow and looked over to the empty whiskey bottle to your right, scowling. “Who did it?”

Thoroughly flustered and distracted, you took a moment to realize that Brian was pointing directly to you, and with an astonished cry, you smacked his hand away, cursing him as he laughed at you.

And from there, a slow burn of a friends-to-lover flame was alight. And I mean slow, as in not reaching culmination until 1973 or 1974, when they were really starting to make it big-time. After all, this was a ‘one of the boys’ relationship you’d had going on previously, so navigating from that to accepting your attraction to Brian and his requited attraction to you was difficult.

You’d never realized how much you really wanted to be more than just his friend until he was off on the Queen II tour and you’d gotten a call from Roger telling you that they were heading back suddenly, due to Brian’s rapidly declining health. And in those hours between that call and their arrival in London, you’d never felt more afraid.

Suddenly, you knew exactly what it was like to be on Brian’s side of things, so you rushed to the hospital to see him.

He was yellow, so off-color, and he looked so weak when you saw him that you almost started crying when he managed a smile at your appearance.

“Jesus, Brian, you’ve caught your death,” you muttered as you stood there next to his bed, knowing you couldn’t really touch him - that was the worst part. Now, more than ever, you wanted to hug him. But the risk of transfer was daunting, and you didn’t know if it was aggressive enough to be transmitted even by an embrace.

“Feels like it,” he laughed, his voice softer than ever before, and you frowned as you decided holding his hand was enough, taking the yellowing fingers between yours and lacing your hand with his, squeezing it gently when he gave you another soft smile. “Glad you’re here.”

“Wish we were anywhere but here, honestly,” you replied gently, on the verge of tears at the sight of your best friend so weak. “Do you need anything? Water? Food? A book?”

“Oh, shut up,” he mumbled at your fussing, a small laugh leaving his lips as he closed his eyes. “All I need right now is you. Thank you.”

“Never in my life would I expect to be thanked for hanging around and annoying the daylights out of you. Don’t you get tired of me, May?” you teased softly, trying to ease up the atmosphere as his thumb traveled over your knuckles slowly, the calloused, scratchy pad of this thumb leaving small white marks on your skin where it irritated you.

“Never,” he croaked out, so quiet you almost missed it, but a blush spread on your cheeks as you realized what needed to be said. It was now or never, and honestly, Brian was never going to have the balls to say it. That, unfortunately, was your department.

“Good. Because unfortunately, I really think you’re stuck with me for good now.”

“What?” he asked, not fully understanding what you were propositioning, although there was a hint of hope in his eyes as he opened them slowly, looking over at you.

“I think it’s about time we went on a proper date. You and me.” You gave him a sly smile, seeing a shallow fluttering of his chest as he reckoned with what you’d just said.

“Right now?” he whined softly, looking around at the room and sighing. “You really picked the worst time to decide that you fancied me back.”

“Oh, shut up.” It was your turn to send him an annoyed look as you stood up, giving his hand one last squeeze before heading towards the door, stopping right before you got there and looking back at him. “Anything you want me to smuggle up from the cafeteria for our date?”

He watched you for an exceedingly long time, staying completely silent and just admiring you before finally swallowing dryly and laughing a bit. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“I don’t think that’s on the menu down there, sorry, lovie.” He rolled his eyes at your attempt at teasing, and closed his eyes as you grinned to yourself, practically floating down the hallway on pure love.

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daniactuallysnuffledthatpopcorn · 5 years

Text

Home for Christmas (Part 3 of 4)

Summary: Every year Dan goes to a ballet performance of the Nutcracker around Christmas (he even starts to enjoy it after a while), but what he’s really waiting for is the nights he gets to spend with one of the lead dancers after the show.

Rating: M

Word count: 7.3K (20.3K total so far)

[A/N] Hope you enjoy my Christmas mini-series!

<-- part two

Start at the beginning

As the new year crawled by Dan found himself tempted to google Phil’s name more and more with each passing day.

When university started back up after Christmas break and he found himself surrounded by the people who had to get used to seeing him without Rosie he caught himself just before pressing enter multiple times, erasing the words he’d typed and turning off his phone screen before he could change his mind again. He tried to avoid running into her, sometimes going as far as skipping dinner because she was sat in the kitchen, until he no longer felt his phone burning in his pocket watching her tending to her pans at the stove. Until he no longer had the pressing urge to get out of town every chance he got, visiting Eleanor on the weekly.

Final exams rolled in way too fast and left him feeling wholly unprepared. No matter how many study dates and trips to the library he set up, it never seemed to be enough. Law books were big and heavy, pulling on him with every step that brought him closer to the exam halls. Eleanor, whose exams didn’t start until the day after his, stayed with him and made him a full fry for breakfast the morning before his first test. It was her way of trying to offer her support when she knew that as a neurosciences student she was completely useless when it came to helping him study.

Although he liked to think he was fully over Rosie by May, it still gave him some sort of satisfaction when Eleanor gave a resolute “yes” to his ex’s polite “you alright?” as they sat at the kitchen table.

He wondered how she would greet Phil if she knew the ins and outs of their agreement. His phone lit up, signalling a new Snap from Davis.

Summer was a gift from god.

After missing their November weekend together Dan and Eleanor spent a whole week exploring Rome in early August, completely avoiding the topics of love lives and university and focusing on sunshine and gelato and the ancient history they were walking around in on their flipflops. They held hands the way they’d done in primary school, before they hit puberty and girls and boys weren’t supposed to do that kind of stuff anymore. Before they cared about what anyone thought of their relationship.

Dan neglected to mention to her that on the last night, when she went to the bathroom as they were having a couple of drinks at the hotel bar, an Irish boy slipped him a napkin with a string of numbers on it accompanied by the words, “if you’re not interested feel free to bin this, but otherwise, text me”. Dan shoved it in his pocket, where it stayed until he got back to his parents’ house in London and he unpacked his suitcase. He stood with the paper in his hand for a minute or so, and then another few minutes staring at the new contact in his phone.

Sat cross-legged on the bed he carefully crafted a message. As he was typing it took everything from his willpower not to close the app and go to google. To just type in that one name that he’d put into that bar so many times before. Instead, he resolutely tapped the ‘send’ button and then proceeded to put his phone under his pillow to leave it there for the next couple of hours.

When Nicholas replied he was almost surprised. They spent the next couple of weeks texting and although Dan had initially been sceptical, the more he learnt about Nick, the more he felt that there might be something and he might not need to be stuck on his Christmas dates for the rest of his life.

Nick was nice. Genuinely nice. He was a good listener, made jokes at the right time, and had an intricate knowledge of all kinds of animals as he was studying to become a vet. Dan found himself looking forward to the evenings when Nick got home from placement and the two of them could Skype call before they went to bed. Long nights were spent lying on his back on the carpet, feet propped up against the side of his desk, phone tucked comfortably between his shoulder and his ear. He could hear the Irish boy smile through the phone.

He liked Nick. He really did. But when in early October he asked him that dreaded question, “so, what are we?”, Dan couldn’t stop his fight or flight response from kicking in. Unsure of whether he feared commitment to a boy or commitment to anyone at all, he broke it off.

From there on, things went downhill. Fast.

One of the boys Dan lived with dropped out, meaning they had to either find a new flatmate or a new place, and the others’ half-hearted search for a house stressed him out. University was pulling on him like a ball on a chain and the words danced before his eyes on the nights he tried to catch up with the stacks of work accumulating on his desk. Eleanor’s ugly selfies sent over snapchat were only doing so much to put a smile on his face, their effects diminishing with every day.

Two weeks after Reuben had left, Dan sent in his student withdrawal form.

Three days later, he found the courage to tell his parents, sat on Eleanor’s bed with one hand in hers and the other hand clutching the phone held to his ear. Everything was falling apart, but the one constant he could always count on was his best friend always being right by his side.

Dan moved back home hesitantly. His old bedroom felt too small for him and his hometown was full of eyes watching him, knowing he didn’t belong there anymore.

What did he actually want to do with his life? He had no idea, really. His new job at an electronics shop was not it though, that was for damn sure. It had him drifting through the days, every week feeling like the last, endless and exhausting. To pass the time he messed around with the products when he got bored, feeling professional when he pressed buttons on the DJ sets knowing what they did, and adjusting camera lenses with expert eyes. In those moments he felt for a moment like he was on the right path, just not knowing where it would lead him yet.

In mid-December Dan used his first wages to buy one of those fancy cameras. He spent hours in his bedroom sat cross-legged on the floor adjusting settings and filming little test videos, the reality of his world forgotten for a precious while.

Four days before Christmas Dan planted the camera up on one of his book shelves, fixed his hair in the mirror for exactly two minutes longer than necessary, and then pressed the record button.

He filmed his first video in one go, with rambling tangents and awkward pauses to edit out later, which he did the day after, when he got home from work. He was tired. After a nine-hour day the last thing his eyes wanted to do was focus deeply on something for another couple of hours. One by one his family members went to bed, the sounds of their bedroom doors closing reaching Dan even through his headphones. In the morning, when his alarm would go off at half seven again, he’d hate himself for this, but that felt well worth it when he clicked ‘upload’ and watched the bar load up to a 100%. It was two in the morning when his first ever YouTube video went live.

Dan and Eleanor had bought tickets for the ballet in early December almost out of habit. There had been no discussing it, just Eleanor asking if he’d already bought them or if she should. On the day before Christmas Eve she picked him up in her car, blasting Mariah Carey so loud Dan could hear it the moment he stepped out the front door. She was wearing a beautiful silver dress and had her hair braided back so her elegant hoop earrings were clearly visible. He complimented her as he plopped down in the passenger seat of her Volkswagen.

He tried to play it cool, but it was difficult to do so when he’d been looking forward to this night for months. It felt on the verge of pathetic, but his monotonous job left him with plenty of headspace to contemplate all that could happen and might be in the future. He’d lived this day and the next dozens of times over in his head stood behind the counter smiling artificially at customers as he rang up their purchases.

They knew their way around the theatre by now. They knew where to find the coat room, and the fact that it cost 50p per coat, and they knew the quickest route up to the balcony and the toilet closest to it. Dan ran his hands over the balustrade as they walked to their spots. The place was still fully lit, giving him a view of the seats and the stage below. Two little girls were on stage in front of the curtains, doing pirouettes and falling out of them with big grins decorating their little faces. He stood and watched them for a moment, until he felt Eleanor demonstratively lean over the railing next to him. “You excited?” She asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” He said without tearing his gaze away from the kids.

“Have you spoken to him at all since last year?”

Dan shook his head, “I don’t even have his number. I don’t know his last name or anything.”

“Really? I thought you had a somewhat regulated plan.”

“If we’re both single by Christmas, we spend the night together. That’s it, that’s the whole plan.”

She laughed, “You’re a bit of a disaster, Dan.”

“I know.” He said. He sighed deeply, leaning further down until his chin came to rest on his hands. “I’ve given up trying to sort this out, I’m just along for the ride now.”

She didn’t respond, but without needing to look over Dan knew she was rolling her eyes at him.

They watched the girls dance until they were ushered off the stage and the lights started to dim. The hall had filled up quite a bit since they’d turned their back on the balcony, and they had to shuffle past grumbly chic people annoyed they had to move their legs to let them past. It was Dan and El’s third year. They were used to the rich people by now.

The lead dancers had all changed. He recognised the previous lead as one of the background dancers, along with a couple of others who’d had big roles the years before. Phil was nowhere to be found. Dan had a heavy feeling in his stomach as he watched them float across the stage. Eleanor noticed too, taking her best friend’s hand in hers and squeezing it tightly. They exchanged a short glance, but Dan couldn’t bear looking her in the eyes for too long, too embarrassed about his situation and the hope he’d displayed before the show. She knew he’d been excited for their meeting and Phil’s not being there made him feel ashamed, naive almost. His eyes absentmindedly followed the ballerinas, not really taking anything in.

Eleanor kept a firm grip on his hand, pulling him downstairs to the bar and pushing a glass of champagne into his hand. She wasn’t sure what to say either, clearly. Dan could see the radars in her head spin as she tried to come up with a way to comfort him.

“Dan?”

He saw Eleanor’s eyes light up before he turned and faced the person who’d said his name.

Phil was wearing slacks and a button-down shirt, his hair neatly swept to one side. He looked older, more mature. Dan was glad Eleanor had made him dress up that year, so he knew he looked good. He subconsciously reached up and tugged on his tie a bit as he looked the dancer up and down.

“It’s good to see you.” He managed to say.

“You too.” Phil said.

“I thought you might not be here this year.”

“I’m not on the team anymore. Not as a dancer, at least. I’ve taken up that coaching position like I told you I might last year, I’m assistant coach now.”

“Wow, congratulations.”

Phil laughed, “It’s not that spectacular, I’m not sure if it deserves congratulations.”

“Well, you’ve done better for yourself than I have.” Dan said. It was out there before he could stop himself, and the moment he’d said it he was afraid he’d enclosed too much information about his personal life.

“You can tell me all about it after the show,” Phil said, “I have to get back to the team now. I was just coming to say hi and make sure you knew I was here. Backdoor?”

“Yep, see you there.”

“Perfect.”

He watched Phil leave before turning around to face Eleanor, who had a smug look on her face. “See, it’s all fine.” She said.

“You say that now, but you were afraid he wouldn’t be here too.”

“Maybe.” She admitted. She touched her champagne glass to his, “Cheers to another fun night for you.”

“And cheers for hopefully one for you. You deserve one.”

He meant it. After Nicola cheated on her six months into their relationship she’d stayed away from boys for a while, but a week earlier she’d said she might try and pull on the 23rd of December, for the first time in months. He watched her eye a guy standing behind them as she nodded and took a sip of her drink. “I sure do.”

Dan couldn’t help but break into a smile when he watched Phil approach. He was stopped a few times along the way to shake hands and receive pats on the shoulder, but eventually he made it over and to Dan’s surprise he leaned in and kissed him right in front of everyone. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, can you just leave?”

Phil nodded. “Let’s walk.”

The moment they stepped out into the cold Dan glanced over to see if Phil would change his mind about walking, but he didn’t. They both put up the collars on their coats and bowed their heads against the wind. Dan had his hands shoved deep into his pockets until he felt Phil’s fingers brush against his wrist. Wordlessly, their fingers intertwined and fell between their two bodies.

“It was a good performance.” Dan said eventually.

He saw Phil nod from the corner of his eye, “They trained their little hearts out. The lead got sick three days ago, so this was the understudy performing. She’d never had this big a role before and was so nervous, bless her.” He smiled to himself.

“When did you start coaching?”

“With the start of the new schoolyear, this September. I still dance too, just not on this team anymore. I’ve stopped competing too, I’m just doing it for fun on the side now.”

“That must’ve been a transition.”

“Yeah, I struggled with it a bit. Still do, really. I miss it, but I know this is where I need to be and what I need to be doing.”

Dan stayed quiet. His mind drifted to his own situation, how he was far from where he needed to be. He bit his lip, face numb with the cold.

Phil squeezed his hand. The only comfort he could offer without asking too much about his life outside of their Christmas dates.

The hotel was a twenty-minute walk from the theatre, and when they finally stepped into the lobby Dan’s whole body started stinging as the warmth from inside hit him. Next to him, Phil rubbed his hands together and blew on them. His cheeks were bright red, shimmering in the bright lights. Dan couldn’t help remarking in his mind that he looked cute and kissable.

They took the lift up. Hand-in-hand once again, eyes shyly meeting through their reflections in the mirror. The third time and still it felt new and exciting.

There was only one big, king-sized bed in the room this year. Phil’s suitcase was on the floor by the desk with a couple of items strewn over the chair.

“So, I have a suggestion. You can say no if you want.”

“Okay.” Dan said, raising his eyebrows.

“I brought a really nice bath bomb. From Lush. The bath is fairly spacious.”

“Yes?”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Phil grabbed him by his tie and pulled him in, their lips touching together gently.

They got undressed as the bath ran in the other room. Phil was still as toned and gorgeous as he had been the years before and Dan’s fingers itched to reach out and touch him. He had to have patience. Soon enough, they’d be bunched up in the bath, with no other choice but to touch each other.

The bath bomb fizzed and coloured the water a pale, glittery blue. Phil lined up the little hotel shampoos and soaps on the side, his muscles flexing under his taut skin as he moved. Dan’s eyes were glued to him, mesmerised.

“You good?”

“Yeah.”

Phil got in first, settling in comfortably before beckoning Dan over. The latter was hesitant, trying to be elegant about it and almost slipping in the process. A small tidal wave splashed over the side of the bath as he steadied himself on the tap. Phil laughed. He was relaxed, with his head resting against the wall and his arms stretched out over the sides of the bath. The hot water made Dan want to relax, but the situation was so foreign and new to him that he was struggling to keep his composure altogether and was happy enough when he finally settled down with his knees pulled into his chest.

The bath water being blue obscured most areas Dan was insecure about from sight, and soon enough he was relaxing his legs, stretching them out alongside Phil’s. “So, how was your year?” Phil asked.

He was good at asking those questions that could be answered by pretty much anything, leaving the decision as to where to draw the line with Dan once again. “Good,” the latter said hesitantly, “it was a ride.”

Phil laughed, “Yeah, me too.”

“I’m- I was in university before. I dropped out.” Phil didn’t seem to judge him, just nodding encouragingly for Dan to go on. “So, I work in a store now. Trying to, you know, sort out my life and all.”

“What do you want to do when you’re older?”

“I don’t know, die maybe.”

“Okay, that’s valid. But before that?”

Dan shrugged, “I don’t know, honestly.”

Phil decided not to press anymore, and Dan quickly took the opportunity to ask about his year.

“It was good. I went on my last Europe tour as a member of the team instead of a coach, so that was a bit bittersweet. I’m excited to coach though. Oh, I finally moved out, too. Was about time.” He laughed, the water moving off him in little waves.

Dan put on his underwear before he dried any other part of his body. Phil had no such inclination, stood in the middle of the hotel room stark-naked while drying his hair. The bed looked cosy and inviting, and although the room was warm enough Dan longed to curl up under the covers for a while.

Wearing just his pants he crawled into bed and pulled the duvet up to his chin. While he waited for the other to finish up, he grabbed the remote control off the bedside table and turned the TV on to a radio station that was playing Christmas songs. The only thing this atmosphere needed to be perfect was a little scented candle, but Dan would settle for this.

“So, I’ve been waiting pretty much all year to make out with you. Do you mind doing that for a while before we decide what to do with the rest of our night?”

Dan grinned, “I think I’m alright with that.”

Phil slipped under the covers with him and pushed him down onto his back. Dan laced his fingers through Phil’s mildly damp hair as they kissed. Maybe his flight response to Nicholas’ question had had less to do with the question of commitment to either a boy or anyone, and more to do with the fact that he was already committed to something. To a 24 hours period just before Christmas.

Phil’s hands were a bit cold roaming his sides. They sent shivers down his spine, but he did nothing to stop them.

Soon enough they were both warmed up and their almost naked bodies moved together, arousal already showing. Every time Phil’s hips touched against Dan’s thigh it sent a pleasant shiver to his dick, his fingers tightening against Phil’s hair and skin. It was pretty clear that ‘what they would be doing with the rest of their night’ wasn’t much of a question, really. With the way hands and mouths were moving this was only going in one direction.

Phil’s lips had trailed off, going from Dan’s neck to his chest and down to his belly. Looking down at him Dan watched the trail of faint hickeys grace down from his throat to the waistband of his boxers. Phil had already moved on, his breath ghosting over the bulge in the fabric and his hands moving up Dan’s thighs with confidence.

Although one part of his brain was focused solely on the fact that a very attractive boy was about to give him a blowjob, the other part of him couldn’t help but think about what would happen after. The memory of last year was still fresh in his mind to put a slight damper on his excitement. He wanted to try again. The thought of actually having sex with Phil made his whole body tingle, but it was also scary. It was like losing his virginity all over again, where he had no idea what he was doing, and he just had to surrender all control to another, more experienced party.

For a few minutes though, Dan’s mind was completely taken off anything he could possibly worry about as Phil pulled down his underwear and put his mouth on him. He started by teasing along the shaft with his tongue, one hand holding him firmly by the base and the other with fingertips barely grazing along his balls. Dan opened his eyes for a moment, glancing down at the sight below him. A soft sound escaped from the back of his throat before his eyes closed again.

Phil was an expert. His mouth and hands moved just right, and much sooner than he wanted to Dan had to nudge him off to stop him from finishing him off. “Can we try last year again?”

“Are you sure you want to?” Phil sat up on his heels. He needed no further explanation; he knew what Dan meant.

“Yeah. I want to try, at least.”

“I don’t want to say something stupid, but as it didn’t work last time, are you sure you really want it? Don’t do it for me, I’m doing perfectly fine without it.”

“No, yes, I mean- I really want it. I do. I’m just scared of the pain.”

“I’ll go very slow. The moment it doesn’t feel nice you give me a shout and I stop or take a step back, okay?”

“Okay.” Dan breathed.

The two of them kicked off their boxers, Dan pulling Phil back down for a quick kiss, but neither of them had much patience for a make out session knowing what was on the table now.

Phil had lube at the ready, spreading it on his fingers and pressing soft butterfly kisses to Dan’s abdomen as his hand moved down. Dan closed his eyes. He felt more vulnerable than he ever had before. He was clutching at the sheets, but Phil carefully took one of his hands in his and said in a hushed tone, “Squeeze my hand. Let me know if I do something wrong.”

He kissed Dan’s thigh while he pushed a finger in. Dan made a sound and Phil’s movements stilled, but he squeezed his hand, urging him to go on.

He took it slow. Like he promised. He gave Dan time to adjust before putting a second finger in, and eventually let go of Dan’s hand to tease his dick a bit, moving up and down in excruciatingly slow strokes. His whole body was on fire, feelings things he’d never felt before.

Eventually, after what felt like forever, Phil called him back to attention by pulling his fingers out and putting both hands on his hips, “You doing okay?”

“Yeah.”

“I think you’re well enough prepared, if you’re still up for it.”

“I am.”

“Okay.”

Dan’s eyes followed Phil as he hopped off the bed and got a condom from his suitcase. He tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom onto himself with practised fingers, putting some extra lube on himself after. The actions of someone who’d done this before and knew the pitfalls.

“Okay?”

Dan nodded. His throat was slightly closed up with nerves, but as Phil settled in between his legs he felt no urge to move away. Rather, he felt an impatient pull in his stomach, his dick twitching at the thought of what was about to happen.

The moment Phil’s tip grazed his entrance Dan closed his eyes and let his head fall back. He focused on relaxing, aided by Phil’s soothing hand on his side, rubbing circled into his skin with his thumb. Being filled up felt weird, and it just kept coming until finally he felt Phil bottom out. He was given a few moments to adjust, catch his breath, which he took reluctantly. He wanted to move on. Desperate already even though he only had to wait a few seconds.

“Go.” He muttered hoarsely.

Phil started slow. A practice run.

His hands were firmly holding on to Dan’s hips as he started speeding up little by little. Every time his hips touched against Dan and he was fully filled up, Dan let out a shaky breath. He had no idea how long Phil was going to last, but he didn’t think he had a lot of time in him. His dick was aching to be touched but he knew he’d come very quickly if he gave into the urge.

“How are you doing?” Phil asked. The question came out breathily, the words clearly an effort to utter.

“Good. Too good, maybe.” Phil gave him a questioning look, but Dan took a few seconds to recover before he continued, “I’m getting close.”

“Me too.”

“Touch me.” There was nothing in him that could muster up even the slightest bit of politeness. Phil didn’t need any. His hand reached down, and fingers wrapped firmly around him. It only took a few firm strokes in time with his hips to make Dan emit a desperate little sound and come all over his own belly. Phil followed shortly after, pushed over the edge by Dan’s muscles contracting around him.

Dan flinched when Phil pulled out. He felt overstimulated and sore, but completely satisfied. It was a tired, content kind of satisfaction, making him want to finally curl up and go to sleep. “What time is it?” He whispered, following Phil’s movements as the other went into the bathroom through half-closed eyes.

“Nearing half eleven.”

Dan laughed as much as his sleepy state allowed him to and closed his eyes fully, “I usually don’t go to sleep for another two hours or so.”

“We can go to sleep now, if you want.” Phil’s voice came from the other room.

“Hmm, up to you.”

Phil returned, putting his underwear back on and slipping back under the covers with Dan, “If we go to sleep now we’ll have loads of time together tomorrow. I’m not leaving till the evening. If you want that, of course.”

That woke Dan up. He opened his eyes and raised his head, but Phil had turned the light off and the room was dark. “Of course I want that.”

“Okay. Okay. Sleep now, then. We’ll have a lot of time tomorrow.”

Dan turned around, picking his underwear off the floor and wiggling into them under the duvet. When he was done, Phil crawled up beside him and wrapped his arms around him from behind. “This okay?” He asked. His warm breath stroked along Dan’s neck, making his skin raise into goosebumps.

“Yeah.” He whispered back.

He fell asleep with Phil’s arms tightly wrapped around him, soothed by his even breathing against his skin.

When Dan woke up Phil was still fast asleep. He snuck out from under his arm and tiptoed to the bathroom, where it still smelt like fruit and mint or whatever the bath bomb had been. After peeing Dan put a bit of Phil’s toothpaste in his mouth and sloshed it around for a bit; it would have to do.

“Morning.” He was greeted by Phil, lying on his back with one arm thrown over his face to protect his eyes from the sunlight, when he walked back into the bedroom.

“Morning.”

“Want to order some room service and chill in bed while we eat?”

“Sounds good.” He leant down and kissed the top of Phil’s head without really thinking, not realising himself until he met the other’s eyes. Phil pulled him down with a hand on the back of his neck and pecked his lips.

They ordered room service on the hotel website, Dan getting pancakes and Phil some vegan waffles. While they waited for it to arrive Dan got dressed, splashing some water in his face and attempting to bring his hair to some kind of order. He startled when he felt hands touching his belly. Phil had appeared behind him, wrapping his arms around Dan’s waist and now resting his chin on his shoulder. “What do you want to do today?”

“Anything. I wouldn’t mind staying in and just hanging out.”

“What, just talking, getting to know each other?” Dan asked. It was meant as a joke, but when Phil shrugged he nodded, “Alright, sure.”

They ate their breakfast sat cross-legged on the big double bed. Soft Christmas music played on the TV as they started chatting, carefully at first but quickly becoming more free in their questions and stories.

In the middle of one of his stories Phil suddenly called his dad ‘Mr Lester’, bringing the hand that was just about to put a bite of pancake into Dan’s mouth to an abrupt halt. Phil hadn’t noticed, his lively storytelling not stuttering for even a second.

But Dan had a name.

He had a full name to plug into the Google search bar rather than just the name of the ballet company. He wasn’t sure whether to try his absolute hardest to forget it as soon as possible, or whether to save it to his long-term memory and tattoo it onto his brain.

At about half two, when Phil was lying flat on his back with Dan’s head resting on his belly, both staring at the ceiling and half at the other’s hands gesturing in the air as they spoke, Dan’s phone started ringing. They both raised their heads, disturbed.

It was Eleanor. A picture of her and Dan as little kids in a playpark illuminated the screen.

“El?”

“Danny-boy, where are you?”

“Uh…” Dan glanced over to the bed, where Phil had grabbed his own phone and was scrolling through some missed messages.

“I told your mum you’re hanging out with a mate, but I can’t hold her off forever.”

Fuck. Christmas crafts.

“I hadn’t realised the time.”

It was quiet on the other end for a moment, “Bring him.” She said finally.

“No, it’s okay, I’ll come back.”

“Really, Dan, bring him.”

It was a weird crossroad to be at. He had 24 hours with Phil, but he also had a best friend and a mum waiting for their Christmas tradition, and he’d already let them down by being late. Last year in November he’d been at the same fork in the road, he realised, and he’d made the wrong decision then. He’d chosen Rosie over Eleanor and he still hated himself for that. It was clear-cut, really.

“I’m sorry for forgetting the time, I’ll be over as soon as I can. Get the crafts ready, I’m feeling the creative juices flowing.”

Eleanor laughed, the sound sending a relieved warmth to Dan’s heart. “Alright, alright. See you soon. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” When Dan turned back to the bed he wasn’t sure how to break the news. He bit his lip and sat down, awkwardly.

“You have to go?” Phil asked.

“I have a Christmas tradition with my mum and my best friend. It’s bad enough that I forgot about it.”

“It’s okay,” Phil nodded. His smile said that he meant it, “My bus leaves at ten, we can have dinner together if you want?”

“I’d love that, yes.”

“Meet me at the hotel entrance at seven?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay, all good. Have a good day, Dan.”

Dan bit the inside of his cheek. This was the right thing to do, and he was looking forward to crafts, as he did each year, but this still felt bittersweet.

When Phil opened his arms he happily fell into them, “I’m sorry.” He said.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it. The day after is not usually a part of our tradition, after all.”

“I know, but it would’ve been nice.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been.”

Eleanor hugged him when he came in. Her arms were familiar and welcoming, and decidedly not upset with him. “How was your day, huh?”

He grinned, “Most excellent, thanks for asking.”

“I want to hear all about it. As soon as we’re not with your mum anymore, that is.”

“Are you kidding? You know about my thing, I want to hear about your night.” She winked at him and spun on her heel, walking to the living room. “Eleanor, you bitch, you can’t do this to me.”

“I can, and I will.”

“Dan, there you are! Did you have a good time with your friend?”

“Oh yeah, it was lovely.” Dan said, doing his best to hide the grin on his face that was mirrored by his best friend to his left.

Eleanor, always right beside him.

Scrolling was a bit more difficult than usual after the Glue Accident, but Eleanor managed it as she showed Dan Facebook pictures of a boy with blonde curls and a toned dancer’s body. They’d done two hours of crafts with Dan’s mum and then quickly retreated to Dan’s room with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, now stood forgotten on the bedside table.

Cam seemed nice enough, but it was clear that Eleanor didn’t care much for his niceness: he’d given her his number at the end of the night, but when Dan asked her if she’d put it into her phone she said she didn’t even remember where she put the note. The night had but a content grin on her face that was enough for now. A reminder that she still had it and that Nicola was a stupid idiot who was missing out, like Dan had been telling her for the past couple of months.

“So, what about you? Why were you still with him?”

“He’s here all day. Not leaving till nine tonight.”

“Wait, you were going to spend the day with him?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s still here?” With every word she was sitting up a bit straighter.

“Yeah.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Bros before hoes. Mums before- I don’t know- bums? You know what I mean.”

“Okay, crafts over. Go back to him, God. Your mum and I will still be here tonight and tomorrow and all the time after that.”

Dan was quiet for a moment. “El,” He said then, softly, “I’m sorry about last November.”

He didn’t need to explain what he meant. She gave him a sad smile and a playful push against the shoulder that meant more than it led on, “I know.”

“I really am. I shouldn’t have prioritised Rosie over you, and that was so fucking dumb of me.”

“Yeah, you were an idiot. Still are, really.” Eleanor agreed.

Dan grinned, “Yeah, alright, alright, calm down.”

“You deserve it though.” She said, laughing along. Her hand, still on his shoulder, shook him gently, “Go. It’s okay, we’ll hang out tonight and watch Home Alone. After he’s left.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. You came to crafts, thank you.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to miss it.” He scrambled to his feet and kissed the top of her head. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, idiot.” She shook her head at him as he left the room.

It was six o’clock when he made it into the hotel lobby and the realisation that he had no way of getting upstairs or contacting Phil to let him in. He stood, probably suspiciously, next to the check-in desk for just a little too long, before his stupid foggy brain finally thought of something to do.

“El?”

“Why are you calling me? Go have sex or something.” She whispered the last part, probably still at his house, near his mum.

“I don’t have his phone number. Can you see if you can find Cam’s and ask him for Phil’s number for me?”

“Really? You want me to ask a guy I slept with last night for one of his friends’ phone numbers? Do you want me to break the guy’s heart?”

“Tell him it’s a gay emergency.”

“A gay emergency, huh?”

Dan’s face flushed red, “At this point, I can’t really deny anything anymore, you know?”

“You’re gay?”

“Oh my god, this is not what I called you for, El.”

“I know.”

“I’m not gay. I’m just- not straight. Bi, maybe.”

“I’ll find Cam’s number. Tell him it’s a bi emergency.”

“You’re an angel.”

“Yeah, and you’re so lucky to have me.”

After they hung up the phone Dan spent another couple of awkward minutes hanging around the check-in desk, giving the lady behind it a nod that he hoped was reassuring and friendly.

Just before his standing around started going from ‘weird’ to ‘scary’, Eleanor texted him. Just a string of numbers. Presumably Phil’s phone number. Phil Lester’s phone number.

What was he even supposed to say? What did you put in a first text to someone you’d known for two years but had only really seen three times?

Hey, it’s Dan. I’m back at the hotel if you want to hang out now? Am in the lobby.

His finger hovered over the ‘send’ button, and after a glance at the clock – twenty past six – he pressed it.

The lady behind the desk was really starting to give him looks now, so he moved to near the lifts, which was maybe even more suspicious. Thankfully, a minute or two later, one of the lifts opened and Phil appeared, now dressed in some casual jeans and a T shirt. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How were your crafts?”

“Excellent, I’m a master.”

“I’m sure you are. Want to go straight to the restaurant?”

“Sure. Where are we going?”

“Well, it just so happens that I know of an exquisite Pizza Hut around the corner.”

“Hm, really? How did you become acquainted with it?”

“Ah well, I just Google Maps-ed it a minute and a half ago.”

It was a short walk. Five minutes, maybe. Dan felt some weird sense of pride walking next to Phil, boasting with the cute guy he’d managed to get to… take him on a date? He wasn’t sure what this was, until fingertips touched his hand palm and fingers intertwined with his. He glanced to his side and the two boys made eye contact, grinning at each other, each content with what had just occurred between them.

Dan’s secondary school had had a pizza hut right around the corner, meaning he was very, very closely acquainted with how things worked in there. Phil, who’d been on a ballet diet most of his life, had only stepped foot inside a Pizza Hut maybe three times, had no idea what was going on from the moment he walked in.

“The salad bar is free?” He asked quietly, “Dan,” he did a little jog to catch up with the other, “Dan, it’s free?”

“Yeah. The bacon bits are vegan, too.”

“The bacon bits?”

Dan was enjoying being the one with more experience on something for once, albeit with the workings of a cheap pizza place.

He didn’t need to look at the menu, knowing his order by heart. Amusedly, he watched Phil study his options with his finger tracing the letters as he read them. “Is this one any good?”

“What, the pan? Sure. I’m a classic fan though.”

“I think I’ll be adventurous and get a pan.”

After they’d ordered Dan got some more entertainment from watching Phil squint at the salad bar options, carefully picking up some tomatoes and then loading up on bacon bits. “You’re sure?” He asked, by which time it was already far too late to dump the whole lot back into the bowl.

“Yeah, they’re vegan. My friend who’s vegan has them all the time.”

“Okay.”

Phil made the classic mistake of overloading on the salad bar, so he couldn’t finish his pizza. Dan gladly made use of this by eating the last 3 slices.

The boundaries had been moved, and for some reason instead of making it more awkward, as it had been before when they weren’t sure where the lines were drawn, they spoke more easily and fluently. Phil even opened up about his childhood, and how he’d started dancing.

Dan had to try his best to not stare at him fondly, leaning his head on one hand, while he listened.

It was a quarter to eight. They had exactly an hour and fifteen minutes to get Phil’s stuff packed up and get him on the bus, yet the moment they left Pizza Hut, they headed in the exact opposite direction of the hotel.

Their fingers were intertwined, hands swinging between them as they walked.

They got ice cream at a place Dan loved, sitting outside on a freezing December night despite the odd looks they were getting. By the end of it Dan couldn’t feel his tongue, but it was worth it to see the happy smile on Phil’s face, and the way his cheeks had gone red and rosy from the cold air.

Eventually they had to reluctantly make their way back to the hotel. Hand in hand once again.

Dan watched him throw his things into the suitcase on the floor and zip it up with the effortless movements of someone who’d done this many times before.

“I’ll see you next year?” Dan asked. He felt hope and hurt burning in his heart at once.

“I’ll be here. I hope you will be, too.”

“I’ll see if I can find the time to pop by.” Dan said. A weak attempt at a joke while he felt like a small part of him had just been zipped up into a suitcase headed north.

Downstairs by the bus, the other dancers greeted Dan like a friend with pats on the back and smiling nods. “See you next year, Dan.” One of them told him.

A fair assertion, or so Dan hoped.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fanfiction #phan au #ballet au #phan smut

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fantasticworksandwheretofindthem · 6 years

Text

Softball Struggles

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: In which [Name] climbs into Peter’s window, as per usual, after a softball game, but this night is a little bit different. ;)

Warnings: swearing, slight smut

Notes: This is a extremely based off my experiences with softball, so if you don’t understand the sport at all or don’t like the idea of playing it, don’t read. | Also, message me if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

[ peter parker masterlist ]

“Are you coming to my game today?” you asked Peter, pushing yourself off the tree and starting the walk home.

“I should probably watch the streets tonight,” Peter answered with a frown.

You were upset, but you had expected as much. It was a Friday, and he’d only patrolled two days this week; he probably would’ve done it all week, but you’d convinced him to stay and help you study for your tests.

“I’ll try to swing by, though.” Peter nudged your shoulder with his elbow. You could feel the smugness radiating off of him; you didn’t need to look at him to know he wore a smirk.

“All these spidey powers, and your puns still suck,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, P.”

“Good luck, [Name]!”

“Hey, [Name], you wanna come in with me?” you looked over at Imogen, one of the only softball girls you got along with (mostly). She was already walking up to the white painted foul line.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, jogging up with her, picking up softballs as you went. “Do you know how many balls we’re supposed to have?”

“Eighteen and nineteen,” called one of the girls who were heading into the dugout. You watched as she sat down with a couple of her friends and rolled your eyes. For whatever reason, they thought they were so much better than everyone else and felt like they didn’t have to field during pre-game.

“You ready?” Imogen asked, bringing your attention back to what was most important - warming up.

“Yeah,” you muttered, picking up the bat you always used. You gripped the taped handle and positioned yourself.

“Don’t choke up on the bat, [Name].”

You turned your head to see Venus Wallage, one of Royce’s best friends, also known as one of the girls who thought her shit didn’t stink, pretty much. “Choking up on the bat helps me.”

“If you didn’t choke up,” Venus began, tugging on her batting gloves, “you’d hit the ball better.”

You bit your lip, gripping the handle so hard your fingers began to sting. “It just feels weird with my hands all the way at the bottom.”

“Whatever,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m just trying to help you.”

“Yeah, because you know so much about choking,” you mumbled as Venus started to walk away.

Imogen attempted to stifle her laughs, but came up short when a snort escaped.

“What?” you asked defensively. “It’s true!”

“Trust me, I never said it wasn’t.”

“Hey, who’s up?” you asked not anyone in particular; there were plenty of people crowded around the dugout entrance where the lineup hung. One of the girls called out that it was her; you recognized the voice as Imogen’s and starting making your way to the front of the dugout since you were after her. Out at the plate, Ta’Nia hit a line drive that sent her to first and advanced Aline to third. Imogen stepped up to the box, and on the third pitch, she was walked due to a dead ball.

“That’s okay, Immie, shake it off!” you called, though you knew damn well how much that ball must’ve stung.

“Don’t choke up on the bat, [Name]!” one of your teammates called as you began walking up to the plate. You had every intention of letting the comment go in one ear and out the other until you heard Royce.

“Y’all, it don’t matter, it’s not like she’s gonna hit the ball anyways.”

This made you stop in your tracks and your whole body tense up. You gripped the bat as hard as your hands would allow, giving one last aggressive warm-up swing before stepping up. “I’ll show them,” you muttered, and after you hit the ball, you would say to Royce, Now tell me again I won’t hit it.

You stood in position, bringing the bat up the way you preferred. The pitcher wound her arm and through the air the yellow sphere flew. As pretty as the pitcher’s process looked, the ball wasn’t; it was all the way on the outside edge, and you knew she was getting tired. The next pitch that came through, though, was a strike, according to the umpire. However, you would’ve liked to have some words with that call as you felt the ball was way too close to your abdomen to be anything but another ball. The next ball came, and you swung as hard as you could, sure as hell you had earned at least a double.

As soon as you heard the clash of the ball meeting metal and felt the good vibrations (sorry, sorry, I’m lame, I know, lmao), you dropped the bat and took off running. You were about three inches shy of the base when a deep voice called, “Foul ball!”

You groaned and discreetly kicked the dirt before turning around and jogging back to home.

“That’s a good cut, [Name]!” your coach called. “Let’s do it again, just make it fair!”

“Don’t choke up on the bat this time!”

You growled under your breath, grabbing the bat from the ground and tightening your fingers around it.

“Guys, it’s okay that she chokes up,” your coach told your teammates. “I do it, too, it’s okay.”

You felt a little better after your coach sticking up for you, but it still didn’t soothe your rage.

“1-2!” the umpire reminded the pitcher. One of the girls in the field encouraged the pitcher to throw one more strike. Knowing you would be the third out for this inning just added pressure to your rage.

So, the ball came and call it what you want - poor judgement, pressure from everyone else, a bad call, whatever - but that was your third strike. You sighed and stalked off back to the dugout, Royce bumping your shoulder mighty hard as she walked out to the field. You fought back tears of frustration as you tore off your helmet and threw it onto your bag.

Part of you was glad this was the last game of the season. At least you wouldn’t have to deal with everyone’s sore loser attitudes anymore.

“Siri, call Momma.”

“Calling Momma.”

You had to admit, hearing a male, British Siri pronounce Momma as “Mumma” was one of the funniest damn things you’d ever heard.

Your mom answered on the second ring. “Hey, baby. Is the game over?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you answered as you crossed the street. “But you don’t have to worry about picking me up. I’m just gonna crash at Peter’s.”

“Are you not gonna stop by the house first?” your mom asked. There was a loud crash like ceramic breaking in the background, followed by a whispered curse from your mom.

“Nah, I’m just gonna snitch some of his clothes to sleep in,” you said, beginning the climb up the fire escape of Peter’s apartment. “I love you.”

Your mom muttered an “I love you, too” before ending the call. You slid your phone into the front pocket of your softball bag. Peter’s window was already cracked open for you, as it always was, so you slid it open all the way, dropping your bag in first. You jumped in and started, “P, lemme tell you--” You cut yourself off with a yelp and an, “Oh, my God!” You turned your back and shielded your eyes, the image of what you’d just witnessed burned in your mind.

“Shit, [Name], what are you-- what are you doing here??”

“My game ended, and the girls were being extra bitchy tonight, so I wanted to come and rant to you!” Your face was red and your neck was flushed with color. Part of this was, you had to admit, because you thought it was kinda hot, Peter “taking care of himself” like that. You couldn’t help but fantasize about helping him, or hell, even taking care of your needs with him.

“You couldn’t have knocked?” Peter’s voice was unusually high and cracked at the end.

“How was I supposed to know what you were up to?” you exclaimed, tugging on your jersey. You couldn’t figure out what emotion you felt more: arousal or embarrassment.

Peter was breathing heavily. You turned your head just slightly to see his arm resting against his forehead and his eyes closed. He was biting his lip, and his bare chest rose and fell with each pant. In the back of your mind, you pictured this would be how he’d look after you’d blown him.

After a few more minutes of awkward, silent tension, you strutted over to Peter’s dresser and opened the drawer where you knew he kept his sweatpants. As if you hadn’t just walked in on Peter in such a vulnerable state, you slipped off your pants and socks and pulled on a pair of his gray sweatpants.

Peter looked up about the time you had bent to take off your socks and immediately shielded his eyes again. It was one thing to think about you while jerking off; it was completely another to actually see you half-naked. “[Name]! What are you doing??”

“Your sweats are more comfortable than these softball ones!” you exclaimed, hopping to pull up the soft material onto your hips.

“You could’ve given a guy a heads-up!”

“Oh, don’t get your knickers in a twist,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand. “Now, let me tell you about this fucking bitches.”

And off you went on your heated and curse-loaded rant, only fueling Peter’s desire for you even more.

#peter parker #spiderman: homecoming #spider-man: homecoming #spiderman: hoco #spider-man: hoco #sm: hoco #s-m: hoco #spiderman: hc #spider-man: hc #sm: hc #slight smut #reader insert #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #your name #self insert

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chwepen · 7 years

Text

call me yours | m

↘︎ friends with benefits au, college au, dj au ○ pairing: hansol | reader ○ genre: angst/fluff ○ word count: 7.6k ○ story note: contains mature content ○ summary: you weren’t exactly perfect at no strings attached, but jealousy and deeper feelings threaten to tear the entire deal apart.

I got close to your skin while you were sleeping. I taste the salt on your hands. I reached out to touch you. The morning light disarms you. Won't you let me in?

“Friends with benefits” meant being beneficial yet friendly, coming with rules that meant no attachment or feelings beyond physical attraction. Then again, you and Hansol weren’t that committed to the rules that came with such an agreement, or rules in general.

The best work-study positions were in the university’s radio station. Only a couple of students made the cut, but with your experience and charm, you managed to score an assistant job for the main disk jockey. That was when Hansol popped into your life with a gummy smile and energetic appreciation. He was magic behind the microphone, like his own world revolved around his small desk surrounded by wires and records and stopped moving when he left. But slowly, you discovered who he really was, learning how he loved being involved in music and wanted to write songs after college. In exchange, you told him how you were majoring in journalism and hoped to travel the world. It took three months before a drunk kiss outside of your apartment door changed everything, and then you both were inseparable. It wasn’t a relationship, but it meant something, and you stopped there.

He waits for you before going to the station hand in hand, walks with you to classes if he stayed the night before because he was too tired to go home, and even surprises you with family sized snacks and movies. While he's skilled in giving benefits, he's even better at being there for you, regardless of whether you're with each other exclusively.

Being interested in other people didn’t bother either of you much. Dates were simply dates, and making out never hurt anyone. But you both agreed anything more than that was out of the question. Your friends would say it was because you cared too much to think about each other with other people intimately. It was more because he was more than enough to keep you satisfied. Maybe they were partially right, but you didn’t give it much thought. While you both defined it as nothing more than being close friends with the added rewards of an intimate relationship, anyone could tell you it was more. Even when you noticed, you never acted on it.

Getting hurt and personal fears were only two of the reasons neither him nor you ever let yourselves go deeper, even though you both knew the ins and outs of each other. It was never said, but leaving it at what it was had to be better than watching it fall apart. Having Hansol in your life mattered more than trying for more with a stranger.

Kwon Soonyoung was the best dancer in the university, but he was the worst at calculus. His skills on stage couldn’t save him from equations. Your professor assigning you to him for tutoring helped him learn the information better than he could on his own. The fact that was kind and funny despite his frustrations made you like him more.

“I don’t get this,” Soonyoung grumbles as his jabs his pen into the page in front of him, as though the numbers will go away if he presses hard enough.

“Soonyoung, you can do it. Just try the method we talked about last session.” You smile with your hand underneath your chin, hoping the encouragement gives him the push to solve the problem on his own.

With a minute of concentration and simmering confusion, he navigates the question and feels immense joy when you check it over and see he did it right. “You’re the best! No other tutor in this entire university can work your magic.”

“Oh please, I just know my way with math. So what?”

“A huge what! Do you know how screwed I was before you started working with me? Now I’m actually passing with a high C. I owe you so much.” He scoots out of his seat to give you a strong hug, and you laugh into the space of his shoulder, happy he’s proud of himself and getting somewhere.

“Hey.” You turned your head to the sound of a voice you knew from miles away. Choi Hansol, radio head and disk jockey, hands in his jean jacket pockets, a backpack slung over his arm, and his old headphones wrapped around his neck. He always looked great, even if he blushed and didn’t believe you when you told him. Instantly, you were smiling.

“Hey, Han! You know Soonyoung, right?”

“Yeah, dance major. You hang out with Chan, right? He’s a friend of mine.”

“Right! Good to see you again, Hansol. I checked out your set yesterday. It was great.” The boys shake hands, and you’re surprised at how formal both of them are being for young college boys. “Are you going to the party at Mingyu’s? I can’t make it because of rehearsals but I’m sure Chan invited you?” You turn your head to Hansol, confused why he didn’t tell you before.”

His stare tells as much as his response does. “Small party, and yeah. I mean it won’t be too big, and it’s just music majors, so I’m sure you won’t miss anything.”

You grin and start packing up your things as Soonyoung and Hansol engage in more small talk. It’s tight-lipped on Hansol’s end, mostly because you can tell he’s a bit jealous of the hug he saw minutes ago. If only he knew how ridiculous he could be when he stayed in his head.

“Well, this was fun guys, but you and I have to go.” You poke Hansol in the chest before checking your watch, knowing the two of you will be late to the station if you don’t leave the library immediately. “I’ll see you later, Soonyoung. Practice with that sheet I gave you!”

The walk to your apartment after your shift at the radio station is quiet, Hansol’s hand in yours up until you have to open your door and put your shoes near the entrance. Fatigue sets into your skin, and while you’d normally fall onto the couch and settle in for a nap, Hansol wraps a hand around you to bring you closer to him. You take him in, the scent of mint gum on his breath igniting a charge you didn’t feel before.

“So, Soonyoung is a friend of yours,” Hansol asks, his hand touching the small of your back and moving in small circles. You’re breathless from the distance, but you try to talk anyway.

“Yeah, we have calculus together. It’s hard seeing him struggle in class, but he’s sweet. Tutoring is easy with him somehow cause I know with a little more effort—”

A kiss to your lips silences you, pulling you deeper to him and not letting you go. Your hands immediately wrap around his neck while you fall deeper into him, his body clinging to yours without question. Hansol’s lips move to the space of your cheek and down to your neck as your back hits the island in the middle of your kitchen. Without warning, he grips the back of your thighs and sets you on top of it, his eyes level with yours before kissing you again.

“Hansol,” you whine as he crinkles your cotton shirt until it bunches underneath your bra. You didn’t feel his hands on your sides until the cold air hits your stomach, but the warmth he gives off keeps you from shaking. He places a soft kiss to the exposed skin when he drops to his knees, level with the granite and a dark flicker in his expression. It’s a sight you've seen before, but the charge of his jealousy and locked gaze on you makes it feel like the first time.

“I didn’t like seeing you with him,” Hansol says with his hands falling to the strip of skin above your jeans, fingers gripping the top of the denim and threatening to pop the buttons and leave you bare. Even though his touch is light and careful like he’s unwrapping something new, it isn’t anything he hasn’t seen or touched before.

“I don’t want Soonyoung, Hansol. I want you. I always want you.”

Like the magic words graced his ears, he tugs down both your pants and underwear in the same move down your legs. Your breathing unravels, thoughts racing with desire and want. He knows how eager you are in the way your body shakes, and denying you anymore pleasure wouldn’t be a good idea. Centering his head between your legs, the sudden contact of his mouth against your core flutters your eyelids to a close and your body reacts to meet his touch, melting and feeling the sweet edge in each glide of his tongue.

“You’re so wet already,” he praises when he pulls away, the beautiful sight only for him and because of him. Kisses color the inner space of your thighs and trail back to where you want him, always. His finger teases your folds as his mouth spends time on your clit, kissing and sucking to make your hips buck up to meet every movement. Even though it’s enough to pleasure you, the ache for more takes over.

“Don’t play with me, Han. Not if you don’t plan to finish this in my kitchen.” You try to sound witty, but the breaks and gasps caught in your throat tell him you prefer a soft bed over a kitchen countertop.

Your heart is in your mouth as his arms grip you tightly again. He carries you towards your bedroom and kicks the door open with his foot, not roughly but strong enough for it to hit the stopper with a loud bump. His stamina always surprises you. Maybe his eagerness to remind you what he could do—for you and to you—pushes him to drive you crazy with every action. Either way, you’re aching for him to have you.

You welcome the softness of the comforter underneath your back once he drops you, soft and giving you support while you throw your shirt and bra on the floor. Hansol looks down at you, finally naked, and the glint in his eyes tells you completely how deep his desire to have you goes. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

You thank yourself for being so strict with your birth control once he removes his clothes, slowly and painfully as you see each piece of his skin reveal itself. Despite your brain knowing being as safe as possible matters most, you argue in your head the slightest constriction by extra protection would ruin the fun of having him within you completely. And it’s even better feeling him press your body to his once he slides into you, slowly and with a need only he possesses.

“Hansol, fuck. You feel so good,” you curse in satisfaction, his sudden thrust in having you whimper and call out to him. He releases a hard breath in response, finding a steady rhythm when he gets used to feeling you completely. He pumps into you harder, and your mouth falls open to release little gasps and cries, calls of his name accompanying them. You don’t know how long you’ve been in bed, but you could live off the feelings swelling in your body for days.

With both hands on your hips to hold himself up, he picks up momentum and says your name in the midst of his own groans. The curve of his body meets and matches yours in each motion, and for a second you think about how the pieces of him fit you perfectly, moving in and out in the best rhythm. “You’re so amazing, just like this,” he pants as his lips dive into your neck and leave a blossoming mark, nipping and sucking before he meets your eyes again. “Absolutely perfect.”

A perfectly sharp flex in his hips claws a moan out of your throat, and you know the tightening of the string inside of you doesn’t need more time to snap. “Fuck, I’m gonna come. Please don’t stop.”

Every touch to your skin lights you on fire. He knows every dip and edge of your body, and he only has to put in minor concentration to drive you crazy. You bite down hard on your bottom lip as his hand reaches between your bodies, rubbing fast circles into your clit to bring you to your orgasm faster. That, his continued thrusting, and a sudden suck at your collarbone turns everything to white.

The fall hits you fast and brings you down, drowning out the moans and curses that leave your throat as you sink deeper. You’re sinking and flying at the same time, bursts of colors crossing your vision and leaving you dizzy. It’s a fulfilling and carnal feeling, and Hansol giving it all to you and riding out each second of your pleasure makes it all the more enjoyable.

Your orgasm pushes Hansol to his own, his hips stalling and his mouth agape at the similar sensations you felt moments before as he releases. He gives in to every ounce he can before stalling his hips, both of your breathing erratic and getting used to the aftermath.

As you’re still catching your breath, his eyes focus on yours with half-lidded content. You flush and smile affectionately at him, fulfilled without saying anything. You don’t stop smiling even when he leans in to kiss you, and it only fades when you both sigh and moan into each other’s mouths, his hands running over your body beneath the sheets while yours grip onto the curves of his shoulders.

It was clear you wouldn’t be leaving bed soon, but you didn’t care when you were blissfully happy with the only boy who made you feel happiness in its purest form.

Cheol’s Sweet Treats took up a small part of your Fridays and Saturdays. The extra money helped for little expenses and pleasure purchases you indulged in once in awhile. While you loved working at the station, a bit more income didn’t hurt, and ice-cream was delicious on any occasion.

Joshua as your coworker was a different story. Most days, he was hilarious and easy-going. Other days, he wouldn’t shut up about Hansol and how you were oblivious to what was going on in the romantic department. You hoped each day Josh would let you do your shift without a headache, but despite giving you one without fail, he made you laugh without fail.

While stocking the display with more ice-cream, the bell above the door rings and dashes your hopes of leaving early. “That’s not the reaction workers should have to customers.”

You look away from the ice cream tins to the boy walking in, stealing your breath and making you smile. Of course. “What brings you to Cheol’s, sir?”

Hansol grins and rests his arms against the glass. “I had free time and I was in the neighborhood.”

“You sure about that? Last time I checked, the college was an hour away.” It was terribly inconvenient, but Joshua offering free rides made it a lot easier to get to your weekend job. Then again, some days taking the bus weren’t fun either.

“Okay, maybe I just wanted to pick you up from work. Is that so bad?”

You blush and shake your head, knowing the small gesture makes your heart beat a bit harder in your chest. “So, can I get you anything?”

“Hm...how about one really cute counter girl with a side of tacos for dinner?”

You laugh, humorously studying the menu before responding to him. “Well, I’m sure we can get that for you, but I recommend adding ‘in bed’ to the end of your order. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the suggestion.”

“I like the way you think.”

“Give me a half hour?”

Hansol sits down patiently at one of the small corner booths, typing away on his phone and headphones probably blaring a recent song he checked out for his setlist. In an instant, your focus is on him. He always pushes himself, and it’s easy to feel swept up in the concentration he carries. From the quirk in his brow to the small bit of his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he grabs your attention without noticing or trying.

“You love him,” Josh sings while wiping down the counter on the opposite side of the register, smirking from ear to ear. You barely noticed him come in from the back room, but your response sits right on your tongue.

“I do not, and next time you wanna make jokes or butt in my relationship I’ll be more than happy to tell Seungcheol you steal peanut butter cones on your lunch break.”

“Okay, first of all, harsh. You know those damn cones are amazing,” Josh spits, tossing his rag in your direction. “Second, relationship? Never heard you use that word before.” The realization makes you step back a breath, wondering if you really used the word or not. Josh gives you a cheshire grin in response to your shock, but you don’t let it phase you, only believing it was a small slip. “Third, I was gonna share vital information about your boy toy and the party Saturday, but if you don’t want it-”

“I already heard about it, wise ass. And I don’t think I’ll miss much. Han said it was just a get together of just music majors.”

“Well, I heard there was gonna be a ton of other people going...and not just from the music department, pal.” The new information leaves a pit in your stomach. You never knew Hansol to lie, but you didn’t deny feeling stupid for not knowing everything. It was easy to trust him, but if he didn’t want to tell you about a party, what else was he not saying?

The walk to the parking garage is a little far from the ice cream shop, but it isn’t unbearably hot outside and the nice stroll amidst the quiet bustle of downtown is worth the time getting there. It also gives you the opportunity to ask about the party. Speaking about it makes Hansol tense up, but he plays it off immediately. “I mean, it’s not gonna be too big. Mingyu loves to party, but I’m sure trashing his place this early in the semester wouldn’t be fun to clean up.”

“Han, you can tell me the truth.” You’re scared he’ll say more than you want to hear, but you have to know what’s on his mind, get-together or not.

“Well, someone’s coming with me,” Hansol mumbles to himself, his grip on your hand a bit tighter in fear you’ll push him away. Someone. It shouldn’t strike a cord in you, and you definitely shouldn’t care, but you do. “Her name’s Minkyung.”

Minkyung. She sits behind you in Mass Communication, the only class you and Hansol share together. You barely notice her, but when you do talk to her in discussion, she’s fairly nice and very intelligent. To wrap it all up, she’s gorgeous. You feel the deepest gash in your chest at the sound of her name on his lips.

You remind yourself it shouldn’t be so hard to accept, since it's clear Hansol isn’t yours, not completely. Still, you hate the thought of her in your head. Trying your best to smile while pushing away images of them together, you clear your throat and respond with as little as possible. “I’m sure you’ll have a good time.”

“If it’s not okay with you—”

“Hansol, it’s fine, really. I mean, if you don’t want me to go that’s okay. Having your date and the girl you’ve been screwing in the same place sounds like a big inconvenience.”

“It’s not like that and you know it.” His face morphs into a mixture of a pout and a glare, clearly believing your opinion of the situation is wrong and over the line in theatrics. To hide your displeasure at his response and your insincere understanding, you laugh and shrug it off without much attention.

“Kidding. Lighten up!” You wink, your hand squeezing his and your feet walking harder on the way to the car. While you try to sound light, your heart feels heavy with each step. Hansol can sense it too, the tension causing him to stop on the sidewalk.

His eyes, golden brown and beautiful, turn to something earnest. They never hide his emotions, always giving away what he wants to say even if his words can’t do it for him. It keeps you on your toes often, and feeling his stare pierce into you deeper doesn’t help. “If you don’t want me to go, I won’t.”

“I thought we said—”

“I know. I know you say you don’t care, and I know the deal we made getting into this. But no matter how many dates I go on, nights with you are never gonna change, and if they ever could, I wouldn’t go.” He wraps his arms around you and brings you closer, the scent of vanilla ice-cream floating in the air. You allow yourself to give in, only a small tear escaping your eye, confused at why the prospect of him being with someone else hurts you more than it did before. “Nobody could replace you.” The words are reassuring, and for a moment, you don’t think about anyone else besides him.

After coming home and making good on your promises, you study him as he sleeps, the parts of his bangs meeting some of his eyelashes. With your sheets and comforter barely covering your bodies, you kiss the hollow of his throat and outline shapes across his chest, unsure of what your heart really wants from him.

Soonyoung’s canceled rehearsals gave you the perfect excuse to take him to the party, knowing he owed you after helping him ace his midterms. The party is in full swing by the time you arrive, colorful lights blasting through the apartment and music surrounding the living room. When you enter Mingyu’s place, Soonyoung yells over the music about how glad he is to spend time with you away from textbooks. Sadly for him, you don’t want more than his friendship. And selfishly, you only want him by your side to throw in someone’s face.

A minute passes before you find Hansol in the corner, whispering a string of words into Minkyung’s ear and smiling at her reaction. She giggles and clinks the cup in her hands with his, and you see red. Your heart gnaws at itself and wants to erase the sight from your mind. Your vision doesn’t straighten until Chan runs by and greets you, effectively pushing a grin back on your face. “Hey! I didn’t expect you to come tonight. With Soonyoung!”

Chan’s a great friend, smart guy, and amazing dancer, and while he doesn’t know too much about your relationship, he knows enough that Soonyoung wrapped arm and arm with you is different.

“Great to see you too! We’re gonna go grab drinks!” You hold on tighter to your friend on your way to the kitchen as you pass the corner Hansol’s still settled in, and you wonder if he sees you. Soonyoung mentions something about dance practice and integration by substitution, but your thoughts wander away.

Occupying yourself in the kitchen with a few other people, you actually laugh and let yourself relax. Always working and taking classes took a toll, one you didn’t see often. It’s fairly quiet and vacant, and it leaves room to talk and let loose without the bustle of the party in your face. With just you and Soonyoung, it isn’t as painful as you thought it would be.

Soonyoung turns back to you once he gets a refill. “Thanks for letting me come with you. I mean, we just got here, but I’m having fun with my best math sidekick.”

“Math sidekick? I’m more like your math savior. Besides, flying solo to this would’ve been the worst, so thanks for coming with me.” You clink the plastic cups and drink to your equal measure of gratitude. But Hansol’s stride into the kitchen almost ruins your sip when you feel yourself choke on the alcohol. He says your name, and you place your drink on the counter and look at him, equally upset and angry.

“Excuse me, Soonyoung. I clearly need to talk to Hansol really quick.” You grab Hansol’s hand and pull him into the hallway, the sound of people in the bathroom and bedroom a bit distracting, but you don’t mind. You meet his eyes, and you can’t hide the hurt in your voice. “What?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m at a party with a friend. Just like you, right? Oh wait, no. You have a date, sorry.” You don’t bother hiding what you’re feeling. Maybe making him jealous would do some good for your heart and sanity, but his confusion pisses you off to a greater degree.

He says your name again, this time in exasperation. “Don’t do this.” Frustration doesn’t look good on him, but your jealousy and the alcohol care less about how he feels.

“C’mon Vernon, it’s a party. Where’s your spirit?” You never called him by his jockey name, knowing who he is and who he works as are almost two entirely different people. Saying the name feels foreign, and to use it out of spite makes you feel worse. You notice the tightness of his jaw glimmer under the colored lights before he walks back to the living room, leaving you feeling worse than you imagined. You walk back to the kitchen and sit on the countertop, speechless and muddled.

Soonyoung grins and drinks the last of his alcohol. “He really likes you. This'll be fun.”

“What do you mean?”

He laughs to himself and stands closer. “C’mon, seeing you two together, I know one of the reasons you brought me here was to piss him off. Lucky for you, you’re my friend, you’re cute, and I’m down to play.” He extends a hand and tightens his hold when you grab it, clearly excited by your intrigue in his game. “Let’s go.”

There are other people on the makeshift dance-floor in the living room, some drunk and others trying to actually dance. Soonyoung sets you both right in the middle of it all, and you realize why the dance teachers and students admire him so much when he starts moving. His body is like water, his arms wrapping around you all while his focus centers on you. You can’t lie and say you aren’t attracted to him, but you know it stops firmly at attraction.

You push and pull, fall into him and let him take control. When you’re practically panting from all the swaying, you feel a small charge between your bodies. Even if it’s just the alcohol, you test it anyway. “Kiss me.”

The pant in your voice turns Soonyoung’s lips up into the shape of a smirk before they tease and press to yours. His mouth isn’t like Hansol’s, domineering and not as gentle, but it’s enjoyable. You punish yourself silently for Hansol being your first thought, but you try to scratch it out of your mind and relax, even if some part of you feels it’s wrong.

Chan’s yell comes before the push Hansol gives to Soonyoung, effectively separating you both. While you gain your mental balance, the floor shakes from two bodies falling down hard.

“Hansol, Soonyoung, stop it!” It’s as if you’re an outsider looking in, and the words that plead for them to stop aren’t yours. You caused this, you tell yourself with anger. Jealousy got the best of you, and it led to the one person you care about getting a fist to the face.

“Get off of him!” You dive into the mess to protect what parts of Hansol’s body you can, and the sudden guard lets Wonwoo, another friend and Mingyu’s boyfriend, cut in and yank Soonyoung away from the scene.

Soonyoung gets up with a cut on his fist and his nose dripping with blood, but Hansol doesn’t look any better. A scrape from where he was punched blooms across his cheek, and red paints the corner of his lip. You assume Soonyoung hit him a second time, but it doesn’t matter. The only thing that does is getting Hansol away from the party and back to his apartment. Minkyung is nowhere in sight, and you wonder if Hansol sent her away or she just didn’t want to involve herself in the mess.

“Han, it’s me, okay? We’re getting out of here, and I’m gonna clean you up. Can you keep your eyes open?” You press a hand to his face, some of his blood touching your fingers.

“A little. The room is spinning,” Hansol laughs to himself, the small patch of blood near his mouth trickling down his chin. You wipe it away with your hand while the opposite one puts his arm around your shoulder, and his head lolls back and forth without purpose. Chan helps you while you go down to Hansol’s car. “You look pretty tonight. I didn’t say it before. I should’ve.”

“The night’s still young. You can tell me a hundred times later. Right now, let’s go home.”

“I bet you didn’t think I was a lover and a fighter,” Hansol chuckles, the pain in his gut reminding him not to do much for now besides talk. He clutches the patch of skin covering his ribs, and you know the fall was a lot harder than he expected.

You remove the cotton swab from his lip, and you hand him a packet of cold peas to put to his cheek, hoping his face won’t swell or bruise too much. “I think you’re an idiot.”

“I’m your idiot, if that helps.” Even in the worst times, he loves to joke around.

Unfortunately for him, you weren’t in the mood to be funny, especially when he was hurt and you were both clearly upset before the fight happened. “Hansol, why would you fight him? I’m not saying you’re not strong, but it’s not you. Why?”

“That stupid kiss. Really, was it to just get back at me? It worked, you got what you wanted.” He sets the packet beside him, his hand still on the plastic and clenching hard. “I hated it, even though I had no right to. I know what we are, and I know that your love life is none of my business, but seeing it made me sick, and then with all the alcohol, I just saw red.” He looks up and puts fingers to your cheek, cold but bearable. “I’m sorry.”

You touch his fingertips and kiss each one, taking away the cold and warming his hand. You feel the need to cry deep down, but you don’t give into it. “I hated seeing you with her, and I hate that I hated it. And I hated that when I kissed him, I only thought of you.”

“I know.” His smile is sad and small, but he pulls you to him anyway, hands touching your hips while yours fall to his shoulders. You’re close, yet unsure where you stand.

“We’re not fighting fair.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t fight at all.” His lips tease the outline of yours, so close you can feel the soft movement of his breath. You’re scared to get closer than you are now, but you don’t want him to go “I’m done with the games. I don’t want to play them anymore.”

“Hansol—” His kiss silences your reply, and like always, you’re gone and lost in him. In no time, the floor is home to a mess of clothes: his shirt, your shirt, his jacket, and your pants.

He watches you and how you move against him when he moves away, the only pieces of clothing on your skin being your bra and panties. You never feel self-conscious or embarrassed like this, not when he views you like your body is the one thing he would die cherishing. He explores freely, his hand touching the valley between your breasts and to the center of your thighs, leaving you panting and eager to touch him as much as he’s touching you.

Your hands roam the skin of his chest, soft and faintly bright in the lamplight on your nightstand. They trail lower to undo his belt and ride the denim of his jeans lower down his legs. When your attention comes back to him, he's unsure of speaking, as though you two are glass, and his next words could shatter you and him to pieces.

“Baby...I-” Hansol chokes, staring so deep into your eyes and wishing he could say what neither of you are fully ready to admit to each other. A small part of you yearns for him to finish, but you know his actions can speak a lot louder than his words, and the two of you are too far in to let go now.

“Don’t say it. Just kiss me again, please.” With the closing of his eyes, Hansol’s lips slam into yours and leave you breathless, wanting more even though more would never truly be enough when it came to him. He would always leave you suspended, and it only took a taste to fall down again.

A soft breath escapes your lips as his hands move over every part of your body, loving his attention and all it entails. His fingers start at your thighs to hook them closer to his lower body, still covered by his boxers. When he knows you won’t move your legs, they touch your hips before going higher, stopping once he reaches behind your back and unclasps your bra. The straps were already off your arms, and it comes off entirely with a simple flick of his wrist.

He places his hands on your neck as he kisses you deeper, always handling you with care and never by force. You wouldn’t trade anything for the softness he possesses when he holds onto you, kisses you, and makes you feel wanted.

Kisses that built the two of you in your own world were the best part. You thought you could die from them, especially when they left you ready to combust with each new one. He touches the curve of your mouth, his index finger outlining the base of your bottom lip. “Mine.”

“Yours.” The one word moves him to tug your underwear slowly down your legs, throwing it into the pile you’ve created of your clothes. Friction from your naked body and his thin briefs coming together strains a moan from your throat, knowing the build to a release is starting thanks to the wetness between your legs. You’re sure he feels it, because his next movement removes the last of his clothes, sending it to the floor.

A soft moan resonates between your bodies and through the room when he finally eases in, his lips attaching to your neck while your head falls into the pillow. He groans from finally feeling you, all of you around him and underneath him, and wanting to bask in it and all he feels for you keeps him at a slow and steady rhythm. His hips move in small motions, and it’s the greatest pleasure having his body fit to yours in this way.

Although you love having him inside you and treating you with the care he always gives, you crave something faster and harder. “Move, please.”

“Don’t rush.” He stops altogether, the loss of movement making you whimper. He breathes in softly and touches the base of your neck with his hand, the warmth of it keeping your noises of protest in. “I wanna take my time with you. I always wanna take my time with you.”

He switches from sweet and unhurried thrusts to rough force with the snap of his hips to give into both of your needs. You feel him, slow and fast, paralyzing and intoxicating, and you’re climbing higher. The anticipation to fall leaves your body in suspense, and with another deep thrust, he lets you.

The pleasure is mind-numbingly sweet, stars and moving planets behind your eyes as it washes in waves along your body. Hansol guides you through it, providing you with every drop of your orgasm without missing a beat while he finds his own. By the time you come back to the ground, your eyes are half-open and laced with sweet indulgences coated on your skin.

No words come out as you catch your breath, but you pull him in by the shoulders and meld your chest to his, arms wrapping around his back and face nuzzling into the center of his throat. He doesn’t protest, mirroring your actions and holding onto you tight, as though you could fly away again and never come back.

You know saying something might calm whatever unsettles him now, but all you have to say lives in this moment, the only place you imagine staying in forever.

You wake up to Hansol wrapped around you, arms covering your waist and legs tangled over and under one another. He snuggles in closer as you wake up, and you touch the band-aid over his cut and the line of his jaw, awed at how he's still gorgeous with cuts and light bruises.

His eyes open as your hand sits against his cheek, and he touches your fingertips with his lips, kissing the pads and smiling gently. “Good morning.”

“Morning to you too.” You move your hand to the skin of his arm, and the charge between you changes. His breathing slowly grows uneven, and he pulls away when you try to move closer to him.

He runs his hands through his hair and sits up from bed, collecting his boxers and putting them on once he’s up. “What are we doing?” For a split second, you’re terrified he’s ready to run.

“What do you mean?” Sitting up from the bed, your realize you’re still bare from the night before, but you don’t care. You knew last night changed a lot between you both, but it was doubtful if you were ready to confront everything you both were running from. Ready or not, he wasn’t backing down.

“What do you think it means?” You wrap the comforter around yourself as Hansol sits down in your desk chair, now facing you. “Do you wanna know the real reason I didn’t tell you about the party?” His chest heaves up and down in small breaths, trying to push the words he wants to say out.

“I couldn’t have you there while I was trying my hardest to get you off my mind. No matter what, you’re always there. Laughing, smiling, being. And I wouldn’t change it for anything, but being so close to you makes me want more than we have. And the stupid fucking arrangement we agreed to always puts us two steps back without going forward, and I’m done hiding and pretending this is all I want. I won’t lie and say I don’t want to do everything we always do. Tacos and movie weekends, late nights in the radio booth...you and me in this bedroom. But I can’t keep it halfway anymore.”

“Han, I—”

“Please. Let me say this,” The desperation in his voice isn’t missed, and you can’t force him to stop when you know he’s kept it in for so long. “I want to walk with you to classes only to hate leaving you and kiss you before I go. To make love to you, stay the night, and wake up in the morning to your goofy pout. To boast to my friends how the one girl who changed me is mine and I’m hers completely. To have you touch me in all the ways that make me want you all over again. Most of all, I want to tell you what’s been in my heart for as long as I’ve known you...I love you, I’m in love with you.”

His hands cup your cheeks, searching your eyes for a response that doesn’t come. Biting his bottom lip to calm the tremble on his face, he’s clearly shaken by his confession and what you’re not telling him.

“Say something?”

The tears fall with the cue of two simple words, your composure shattering instantly with the pieces practically resting at your feet. Your head falls out of his hands and hits his chest as you cry, all while your hands clutch his biceps for support.

The whimpers and incoherent words forming from your throat silence thanks to the kisses he embeds in your hair. Giving him an answer doesn’t matter now; he knows you feel the same by the hold on his arms and how you can’t let go. Even so, you don’t deny him confirmation.

“I love you too, and I should’ve told you before last night happened. I was just scared. Scared this wouldn’t work or worse,” you whisper, stepping back and gaping at him, the tears still painted on your cheeks. Even if the fear of trying kept you from admitting how you felt about him, the care and love on his face cancels every doubt out of your head and tells you he is as all in as you are. “I’m sorry it took so long for me to admit it.”

“Hey. I was just as scared to say it as you were.” His thumb brushes the arch of your cheekbone, catching the tears in one swipe. A soft smile on his face tells you he’s just happy to know the girl he loves loves him back, and the ache in your chest builds into something better, something worthy of more. “No matter what, and no matter how long it took us to get here, I have you. That’s what counts.”

You laugh amidst your tears and kiss him, touching the spot where he’s bruised by mistake. He lets out a hiss, but he doesn’t stop you. Blushing, you move back. “Sorry, I bet you’re still hurting.”

“Don’t worry.” He sits between your legs and holds onto your hips, nose nuzzling yours and eyes gazing into yours, full with love and infatuation. “Just kiss it better.”

The Tuesday following your eventful weekend sets you in the library again, quiet compared to what happened days ago. Hansol’s eyes stay on you the entire time you check over Soonyoung’s practice responses. Thankfully, the boys smoothed out the issue Sunday, and there wouldn’t be any bad blood after Saturday night. Your dancing pupil left the two of you to grade, but Hansol wasn’t being a big help.

You wouldn’t lie and say you don’t like when he stares, but your concentration kicks itself out the door the longer he does. “You know, if you wanna keep staring, you’ll have to talk to my boyfriend.”

Hansol laughs and wraps his arm around your waist, pushing your chairs closer together when he does it. It almost distracts you, but you know you have to pay attention when he’s in the mood to tease. “Boyfriend, really? What’s he like?”

“Well, he’s really funny, sweet, talented, amazing in bed,” you reply, his smile growing wider with every word of praise. “But unfortunately for you, he doesn’t like to share.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing that the boyfriend in question is me.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed!” You mock surprise, and Hansol laughs while giving your shoulder a tight squeeze. The touch gives you the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder, fitting perfectly into the dip of his neck. “I love you being the boyfriend.”

“As much as I love you being the girlfriend?” You’re sure most couples didn’t care about the labels, but you loved them. While they were a bit corny to use all the time to the average person, the new terms of endearment made you light up and you didn’t care who saw it.

“That’s debatable."

“Okay, you’re both grossly adorable, but can you please let my tutor check if I’m going to pass this final, Han,” Soonyoung huffs as he sits across from you, making it aware he’s back. His nose is a little scraped from the cuts, but otherwise, he looks as good as new and still kicking with sass. Joshua sits down beside him and flips through a guitar catalog, amused at the show he’s watching.

“Eighty-nine. Congratulations, math wiz.” Soonyoung’s fist sours into the air, and he gives you a large high-five and thanks you again for your help before he zips out of the library.

“My girl is smart.” Hansol grabs your hand, now free of papers and red pens, and he puts it to his mouth to kiss.

You sigh happily, legs touching his and keeping yourself within a close distance. “My boy is sweet.”

“Not as sweet as you.” He sets your hand down on your knee and puts his over it, feeling the proximity and touching you with elation on his face.

“You guys could do this all day, you know,” Joshua huffs and closes the magazine, hand under his chin with a large roll of his eyes. Even with his comments, you aren’t phased and continue showing your boyfriend all the affection you want to.

Hansol turns back to you with another beaming grin. “Hmm, doesn’t sound bad to me, but I think I’d rather kiss you instead.”

“Nobody’s stopping you...boyfriend.” You smirk and grab onto the top of Hansol’s jacket and kiss his lips, soft and inviting like they always are. Even when you separate, you smile wide at the open endearment you give him. He peeks at you with the same grin, and only Josh’s cough takes the two of you out of your daze.

“Okay, Soonyoung’s right. You’re adorable and gross.”

#seventeen #vernon #svtcreations #seventeen scenarios #vernon scenarios #vernon scenario #seventeen scenario #hansol scenarios #hansol scenario #seventeen fic #seventeen fics #vernon fic #vernon fics #wow this was a monster #i hope you like it gejrge im 85% satisfied with it!

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