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bobohu4eva · 3 years

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Pink Lace - Bonus

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut

Summary: Baekhyun decides to surprise you with an expensive new dress, so you make sure to give him his money’s worth

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: smut - slight sugar daddy themes, sex with no condom, aftercare, it’s pretty fluffy tbh

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo @wooya1224 @strawbaeri-s @xiuweetbbh @bbhile

Masterlist

“Oh my god, that is gorgeous.”

“You want it? I’ll buy it for you, as an early Christmas gift, and to celebrate the semester ending and me not losing my job.” Baekhyun said as he smiled down at you, one hand snugly laced through your own as the two of you strolled down the street, window shopping. You had stopped in front of a display for a particularly beautiful dress.

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s way too expensive.” It was true, it was expensive. Baekhyun lived quite close to a high end shopping neighborhood with lots of fancy restaurants and designer outlets, where the two of you could now finally walk around in the open for the first time, since the semester had ended just a day earlier.

Baekhyun raised an eyebrow, “How many times do I have to remind you, money is not a problem.”

“No I know, I just feel bad, that’s still a lot of money, at least to me.”

As you said it you kept staring at the dress. It was perfect. You also knew it must cost at least as much as a month of your rent (which Baekhyun also paid) judging by the store window it was in.

“The way you’re staring at it is just making me want to buy it for you more you know.”

With that you pouted and turned around, away from the window and pulled him away with you.

He chuckled, but looked back, making a mental note of the exact dress and store.

It was lovely, finally being able to go out together like this. So far, most times when you and Baekhyun would see each other it would be at his home, where you would sometimes stay for days at a time even. It was nice, but actually being able to go out and eat at a restaurant together, or go on a walk, was new and felt amazing.

To celebrate not getting caught dating while you were still his student, he’d taken you out on a nice dinner at a small Italian restaurant with only two tables, where you’d been served at least 5 different courses, each more amazing than the last. The wine had been amazing as well, leaving the two of you giggling in each other's arms as you slowly walked back towards his home.

“This is nice.” You hummed as you leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and letting him pull you along.

“Going out like this?”

You nodded slowly into his shoulder, feeling the soft haze of the wine and the soft glow of the streetlights soothing your senses, along with Baekhyun’s touch. It was surprising to you how openly affectionate he’d been, always needing to touch you somehow, whether it was a hand on your waist, or holding your own. He liked to press soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead as well, not caring at all who might see. You never stopped him either, relishing in the feeling of finally being able to do this without having to worry about getting him in trouble.

“I like it too, I can finally show the world that you’re mine.”

You let out a small laugh and the two of you kept walking until you once again reached his home. He gave you one of his hoodies to change into before the two of you fell into bed together, limbs tangling together until you both dozed off.

Things had become incredibly comfortable with him. You truly felt like you could tell him anything, and any time you were struggling he always gave you the best advice, unsurprising considering his job. Being around him was so easy, and even after spending days on end together, you wouldn’t get sick of him. He was like a second home to you, warm and reliable.

You always fell asleep quickly when he was there with you, and you knew he slept better when you were there too. He bestowed you with a sense of coziness and repose that you’d never experienced with a man before, and you knew that your presence brought him great comfort as well. Even on nights like this one when you wouldn’t have sex, just holding each other was more than enough.

The sex had only gotten better as well. Baekhyun had already far outdone the few men you’d been with in the past in his first night with you, but the more he got to know your body the better it got even. He had every inch of you memorized and knew exactly where to touch you, how to touch you, and what to say while he did it to make you feel like you were losing control, but in the best of ways. You simply let him take you along for the ride as he commanded your body as if it was an extension of himself, and it was euphoric.

The next morning Baekhyun drove you back home since you had some errands you needed to take care of. You went about your day, and in the afternoon when you finally returned home and walked into your room you saw an unfamiliar box sitting on your bed.

You opened it to find that inside was the dress from the night before that you’d seen and fallen in love with in the store window.

A small gasp left you. He’d seriously gone and bought it. Up until now you had only let him pay your rent and buy you food. It was a first to be receiving such an expensive gift from him since you’d started dating and despite how much you loved the dress you still couldn’t help feeling guilty.

You snapped a picture and texted it to him followed by several question marks.

Baekhyun: (4:37pm) Don’t try it on until I can see too!

You dialed his number and to your relief he picked up right away.

“Baekhyun I can’t accept this, you have to bring it back.”

“I thought you might say that so I got rid of the receipt. It’s yours, you really seemed to like it and I do too so bought it because I wanted to see you in it and I knew you’d like it. And you told me gifts were okay!”

You sighed. You technically had said that.

“Okay, but I’m impatient I wanna try it on already.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

He hung up before you could respond, so you made yourself comfortable on the couch in the living room as you waited for him.

Eventually you heard a knock on the door and opened it to see your boyfriend looking back at you with an excited look on his face.

The dress was nothing modest. It was short and tight, hugging your body in all the right ways and the silky fabric shimmered beautifully. The color complimented your skin tone perfectly and as you looked at yourself in the mirror, smoothing down the fabric, you had to admit, you loved it on you. It fit surprisingly well and showed off your assets wonderfully. There was no doubt in your mind that as soon as Baekhyun would see you, he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you. You were starting to understand more and more why he’d been so keen on seeing you in it, despite the price tag.

You sat yourself on your bed, crossing your legs and leaning back, before calling for him to come in.

When he walked into the room he was silent for a good long moment as his eyes ran up and down your body, before walking closer to where you were seated to pull you up off the bed.

“Do a spin for me?”

You happily obliged, slowly turning to give him the view he was looking for. Once you were facing him again you couldn’t help but blush with the way he was looking at you, a wide grin on his face and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Worth every penny.” You heard him say softly. “So fucking pretty.”

“How much was it?”

You still felt guilty. It was beautiful, and it was clear to you how happy he was to see you wearing it but in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help asking yourself how much it had really cost him, if it was really worth whatever ridiculous number it might’ve been, just for some fabric that you’d likely only wear a few times anyway.

“Don’t worry about that.” He murmured as his hand made its way from your shoulder, down your arm, eventually resting on your waist. His eyes had moved up from your body to scan over your face as you looked back at him.

Despite his constant reassurance, money was still a subject that made you a bit uncomfortable. You’d never had a lot of it growing up and things like designer clothes always seemed too outrageously priced to even consider buying. To spend that amount of money on something so non-essential was still crazy to you, and the fact that he did it so casually for you felt foreign no matter how much you tried to rationalize it. You just couldn’t help the guilt that pulled at your heartstrings.

“You look so beautiful, why does your face still look sad? Do you not like it anymore?” He said, voice full of concern. His slender fingers found your chin, tilting it back up to look at him after your eyes had drifted down to the floor.

You shook your head. Of course you loved it, it was gorgeous and fit you perfectly. Hell, it was probably the nicest thing you’d ever seen yourself in. It was your guilt that had you fidgeting and averting his gaze.

“It’s just a lot of money, I’ve never owned something like this and I can’t help feeling like it’s too much, I’m sorry. It is beautiful though, even more so than I remember.”

“All that matters to me now, is that you like it. I already bought it, that can’t be undone, and I wouldn’t want it to be anyway. As long as I get to see my beautiful girlfriend smiling looking this pretty, I’m happy.”

He was doing it again. He was looking at you with that smile that could break through every layer of your soul and warm you from the inside no matter how down you might be. The amount of love and affection in his eyes brought a small smile to your lips that you couldn’t fight even if you tried.

“You know I love you, right?” He said as his smile widened in response to your own.

You nodded, “And I love you too.”

He pulled you in for a kiss and you easily let him. He’d gotten to know you even better and always knew what to do or say to relieve whatever worries it might be that you were having. The way he spoke was full of maturity and understanding and he was attentive when it came to your emotions as well, being able to read you exceptionally well. Sometimes he’d figure out what you were feeling before you even truly understood your own emotions. He knew both your body and mind like the back of his hand.

“I wish I could at least repay you somehow.” You whispered as you pulled back from his lips.

He raised an eyebrow and took a step back so his eyes could roam across your body again. “I can think of a few ways...”

You quickly caught on to what he was saying. If you couldn’t already see it on his face, his hand made it crystal clear when it reached up and rested on your chest, thumb running over the bare skin of your cleavage.

It was funny to you that after he’d been so adamant about not being your sugar daddy or anything like that, here you were, in an expensive dress he’d bought, with him asking for sex as a form of repayment. A few months earlier you never would’ve allowed this to happen, but after having spent more time together and knowing how pure his intentions were you couldn’t find it in yourself to really care.

Finally you decided that if he wanted to buy you pretty dresses, just to be able to take them off of you, you’d let him. He looked like he was on cloud 9 as he pulled you closer, keeping one hand on your chest as the other rested over your ass. There was no way in hell you would deny him this.

“You want to take it off me?”

He nodded, “Not yet, though, you look too good like this.”

When he sat down on the edge of your bed with his legs spread and pulled his belt off, you knew what he had in mind. You positioned yourself between his legs and sat on your knees, so you were on eye level with where you knew he wanted you. As you started to work on the button of his jeans, you could feel how hard he already was.

Again and again it surprised you how easily you could turn him on. You thought that because he was a bit older than most guys you’d dated that his sex drive would be lower, but that was definitely not the case. It was higher than yours, but you didn’t mind since he was good at getting you in the mood even when you were tired or stressed. It would happen regularly that he would wake you up during some ungodly hour of the night with a boner digging into your ass. He simply insisted that it was your fault and that he couldn’t help himself. As horny as he was, nine times out of ten you would gladly allow him to have you too. Especially when he was so good at pleasuring you.

Once you were able to get a hand into the waistband of his jeans, you palmed him through his underwear and he let out a groan as he leaned back on the bed.

“You like the dress this much?” You asked with a smirk and reached into his boxers, wrapping your hand around his already very hard dick.

“Yes” he sighed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, as he leaned back in his elbows before opening his eyes again to look at you. “Fuck.”

Once you freed him from the confines of his boxers you leaned in to place an open mouthed kiss on his tip, licking up the pre cum that had started to gather.

“Don’t tease.” He groaned and your eyes looked up to meet with his, giving you a good look at his already very blissed-out expression.

When you finally slid him all the way into your mouth you noticed his head fall back and heard the delightful moan that slipped from his lips.

You always appreciated how vocal he was in bed. Whether it was dirty talk, cursing, moaning, or a combination of the three, he was usually making some sort of noise. You hadn’t come across a guy like that before and getting to hear his reactions to you was always a confidence boost. As much as he was able to get you riled up, you could get him just as weak for you as well. To hear him panting and moaning due to your actions turned you on more that you’d admit as well.

With his moans egging you on you started to bob your head up and down, feeling how he’d hit the back of your throat with every movement. When you looked up at his face you found his lip caught between his teeth, and beads of sweat rolling down his temples.

A strand of hair fell in your face and once he opened his eyes to see he moved one hand to gently gather your hair to hold it back.

“God, you look so good like this. So perfect. Feels so fucking good.”

You knew how weak it made him to see you like this, with your lips wrapped around him. He moved your mouth almost as much as he loved your pussy. Almost.

His grip on your hair tightened and he pulled your mouth off of him.

“Stand up for me.”

You did as he asked and stood back up between his legs. He sat up and his hands found your waist, running up and down the sides of the dress before reaching around back to find the zipper.

He slowly pulled it all the way down and you let the dress slip off you, pooling at your feet leaving you in only your underwear since it wasn’t convenient to wear a bra with.

You didn’t think it was possible for you to ever get used to the way he looked at your body. Ever since you’d met him at the club he always had a special way of looking at you. The way his eyes sparked when they met your bare skin was unlike anything you’d experienced with another man. The more you’d gotten used to sleeping with him, the more impossible it became to be shy with him when he looked at you like that.

You bit your lip to try to conceal your smile when he pulled his shirt over his head, showing you his smooth, toned torso. Although he wasn’t particularly large or muscular, he was slender with just the right amount of definition to still make your mouth water.

Before you could react his arm was hooked around your waist and he pulled you down on top of him. You let out a surprised squeal which he muffled with a kiss and next thing you knew you were being rolled onto your back as he laid himself between your legs.

You felt the fabric of his jeans against your thighs and decided they needed to go. As much as you loved sex with him he could be quite impatient, often only shoving his pants down just enough to be able to fill you, not wanting to bother with taking them all the way off.

luckily for you, today when you tugged at the fabric and let out a whine and he got the idea, rolling off you to pull them off leaving him completely bare.

He quickly found his way back between your spread legs, this time with his tip nudging at the wet spot on your underwear.

"Please" You begged, not exactly sure what you were asking for, just needing something to relieve the fire that was burning in the pit of your stomach.

"Please what?" He asked, moving a hand downwards to feel the soaked fabric with his fingers.

Instead of answering his question you let out a slur of incomprehensible curses and pleas when his finger started to rub over your clit through the soaked fabric.

“I’m gonna have to start buying you new underwear too if you keep ruining them like this.” He said as he smirked, relishing just how turned on he had you.

“Take them off already.” You finally breathed out between moans, but he was enjoying himself too much to give in so easily.

“Hmm, I wonder just how wet I can make you.”

You let out another whine when he still didn’t give you what you wanted, still only touching you through the wet fabric, but now with more pressure. One hand made its way to your chest, kneading and pinching at the sensitive flesh as his mouth covered the other side, sucking purple marks onto the soft skin before finally taking your sensitive bud between his lips.

You could feel even more moisture pooling beneath the fabric, making it even wetter and you knew he could feel it too. The wet spot was growing and you so desperately wanted him to finally take it off of you to touch you for real.

Eventually Baekhyun became too impatient himself and stopped fighting the urge, pulling the soaked fabric aside to run a finger through your folds, feeling the moisture on his fingertips.

“Completely soaked.” He whispered before pulling your last remaining pieces of clothing off your body and spreading your thighs for him to see what was waiting for him between them.

When his thumb ran over your clit he could see you clench and unclench, making more liquid drip out of you.

“God your pussy is so perfect. Always so tight as so wet. So fucking good for me.”

“Baekhyun please.” You begged, reaching for his dick to try and speed things up, but he was having a great time seeing you become more and more desperate for him and didn’t want it to stop quite yet.

Instead of giving you what he wanted, he moved back over you, kissing your neck as his hand got to work on your clit.

He’d gotten to know your body so well, it took less than a minute before you were shaking and crying out his name as your orgasm came over you.

Baekhyun had grown very fond of this arrangement. After a few weeks together he’d began insisting on making you come at least once before fucking you, since he said it made you even tighter and wetter, and he liked to see your face while it happened. Usually you appreciated it, but on days like today when he would tease you so ruthlessly you almost wished he would just get on with it and fill you. However you also knew that after being deprived for so long, it would feel even better once he finally did give you his dick.

Once your breathing slowly started to even out again and you were no longer shaking, you felt his tip slip between your soaked folds, bumping against your clit. Your hands tangled themselves into his soft hair, bringing his face down to yours for a kiss.

He pulled away, trailing kisses down the side of your neck before whispering in your ear, “Turn around for me, sweetheart.”

You did as you were told and arched your back, sticking your ass up in the air for him.

With one knee planted on either side of your hips he pulled your ass up and into position. Before leaning over you, sucking a ‪mark onto the skin of your shoulder before sinking himself into you with one smooth thrust.

You gasped and buried your head into the pillow beneath you to muffle the lewd moans that were tumbling from your lips, but he quickly wrapped a hand around your neck to pull your face out of the sheets.

“Don’t try to hide those beautiful sounds from me baby.”

He slowly pulled himself out of you, only to fully sheath himself back inside, setting a brutal pace.

After a few moments of going on like that, he decided he wanted more. An arm was wrapping itself around your waist once again, this time bringing you upright so he could snake an arm around to squeeze your breasts as well while he kept drilling in and out of you.

His teeth dug into the side of your neck, sucking and biting at the skin there before moving to your earlobe.

The feeling was completely overwhelming, as usual. Once he was inside you, there was no more rational thought, the only thing filling your head being your own pleasure and the sound of your combined moans and curses as they echoed throughout the room.

He took your body and commanded it in a way that left you little more than a weak, desperate, panting mess, completely at his disposal. When you were wrapped around him, you belonged to him completely, and trusted him to do whatever he wanted with you.

When his other hand moved between your legs to flick at your sensitive bud once again, you knew you were close to falling apart. The feeling of his dick rubbing against your walls so perfectly, his hand on your chest, and the other between your legs, was too much. You were quickly unraveling again, this time with much more intensity than the first. Only now, even when you were quivering and moaning and clearly overly sensitive, he didn’t stop.

“You can give me one more, come on baby. You can do it.”

His hips started snapping up into you with even greater force as his hand sped up too. If it hadn’t been for the arm tightly wrapped around you, holding you against him, you definitely would’ve collapsed by now.

“T-too much.” You cried out, but he knew not to listen. Unless you spoke your agreed upon safe word, he knew you’d be able to take it.

You could feel the sweat making your back stick to his chest, and the hand that had been on your chest was now too occupied with keeping you upright, since he knew there was no way you could stay upright on your own. His thrusts only picked up in speed and force but they were growing inconsistent as well, a sign that he was close.

“God, fuck.” He breathed into your ear, because of how tightly you were squeezing around him due to your over sensitivity. “You feel so good like this. Let me feel you, one more time.”

And after a few more hard thrusts you gave him what he wanted, going completely limp in his arms as he pushed into you a couple more times before reaching his own peak too.

Your mind went completely blank and vision went white as the last orgasm hit you like a bus, leaving you moaning incoherent curses combined with his name. To your relief you felt his warm cum fill you only seconds later, with a broken cry that sounded somewhat like your name leaving his lips as it happened.

Your mind was still empty when the arm around your torso let go, and you fell forward onto the bed. There was no strength left in your body, completely spent after all he’d done to you. You were slowly becoming aware of the layer of sweat that covered your body, as well as the sticky mess that coated your inner thighs, but you didn’t have the energy to care, you just closed your eyes and let the warm fuzzy feeling sweep over your brain in the usual post-orgasmic haze. Only this time, it was even more intense than usual from how many times he’d pushed you over that edge.

“Baby, you can’t fall asleep it’s not even 7 yet.” You heard Baekhyun whisper softly from somewhere above you, but you didn’t respond, mind still too hazy to form words.

Instead of bothering you any further, Baekhyun simply started to rub your back the way he had on your first night together, causing you to hum at the pleasant feeling of his hands working the sore muscles.

After a few minutes of enjoying the little massage he was giving you, you felt him lean over you to speak into your ear.

“I love you.” He whispered before pressing a soft kiss to the nape of your neck.

“Hmmm, I love you too.” You mumbled, finally getting some words to leave your tired body. But those were easy words, ones you didn’t need to think too hard about since they flowed off of your lips so naturally when you were with him.

“Come on baby, let’s get you cleaned up.” He spoke softly before grabbing one of your shoulders and turning you onto your back. Your eyes remained closed when you felt him slip two arms beneath you, lifting you up off the bed. You let your head rest against his still damp chest as he carried you into your bathroom, turning on the water to let it heat up.

“Darling, can you stand for me?” He asked and you nodded. Slowly and carefully you felt him put you down, and you wrapped both arms around his waist, leaning against his chest.

He chuckled and stroked your hair. “I really wore you out today, huh?”

You nodded again, and he pulled you into the shower with him to get the both of you clean.

As he carefully cleaned your tired body for you, a small smile spread across his lips.

He couldn’t help but think that the dress had been the best thing he’d bought in a while, and he couldn’t wait to buy you many, many, more.

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #exo fluff #exo smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #baekhyun fic #exo fic

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ushidoux · 3 years

Text

Not Enough - Oikawa (Haikyuu) x Reader x Gojo (JJK)

Summary: Your relationship with Oikawa feels more like a curse than anything else as it comes to a close. (~4.2k words) or tl;dr gojo is mr. steal your girl

Warnings: breakup, idk Gojo is a warning, cracky angst?, pegging mention, yandere themes

A/N: Ngl I’m patting myself on the back for making a crossover fic work somewhat LOLLLL, you can roll your eyes if you want this is hella melodramatic.

(if you wanna commission more niche things, you can always dm me <3)

---

“I-I think it’s best for us to end things here, Tooru...”

Oikawa’s fingers tightened around the cell phone in his hand at the sound of your shakily delivered proposition, and further at the abrupt pregnant pause thereafter - not because he was angry, nor afraid, but out of an all-encompassing confusion.

Two things were wrong with this situation. First of all, it was late enough for you, thousands of miles away, that he was genuinely surprised that you were still awake in the first place and the fact that your voice was thick with tears was particularly upsetting, implying that you’d been up all night before you decided to call. Second, you had to be feeling unwell because you were talking pure nonsense.

He must have not heard correctly. You wanted to ‘end things’?

End what? You and him? That couldn’t possibly happen.

Moments passed, maybe even a full minute, and Oikawa stood perfectly still in spite of the uncomfortable combination of a weightless sensation in his legs and a feverish pounding in his chest as he tried to let himself understand what you were saying. Suddenly lightheaded, he realized he had been holding his breath while you remained quiet on the other end of the line. Maybe he was hoping for you to fill the silence, but he knew you wouldn’t offer anything additional; he could tell from the single soft sniffle that betrayed your sadness.

He sucked air into his lungs.

“I... don’t know what you mean,” Oikawa replied, his voice steady even if his body wasn’t.

You continued.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s really hard… and I get so lonely, and I know it’s wrong, but sometimes it hurts to see you so happy without me…”

Your voice was smaller still, enough that he strained to hear you past the rush of blood past his temples. For a moment, he considered pretending he couldn’t hear you say such unpleasant things just so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality unfolding in front of him in this disdainfully sunny early afternoon, while he stood in the middle of the hallway right outside of his high rise apartment.

The fact that you had finally given up on him after all this time.

In a small way, Oikawa couldn’t blame you. While he had been gone chasing his dream, the emerging star had just as quickly been running further away from you day by day. He knew this was mostly his fault: he called you less frequently and whenever you did talk, the conversations were shorter and less substantial until you and he both felt like your interactions were a simple chore, a checkbox on his never-ending to-do list.

But yet, he could and would absolutely blame you. Long distance was hard but you had promised you’d stay by his side, hadn’t you? You’d promised him, rain or shine, through drought and storm. What could possibly be the issue now?

Even if you hurt, it would only be temporary, and he could always make up for it in full or even twice-fold. In fact, he was on his way to come see you in person this very second; it would just be mere hours before his flight would depart. Coming suddenly on holiday like this was meant to be a surprise, and his suitcase beside him was filled with gifts and souvenirs for you that would, at least partially, assuage your hurt.

At least he thought. Maybe the issue stemmed deeper, starting with the very fact that you weren’t such a fan of gifts - what you really craved was loyalty and quality time - and that too, he had chosen to ignore. Because it was easier to love you the way he wanted to love you, rather than the way you wanted to be loved.

You were often indecisive anyway. Did you ever truly know what you wanted?

“___, stop being silly. I love you -”, he paused at this last declaration for emphasis, gauging your reaction, of which you gave him none, then continued, “-and I’m coming to see you before the sun sets tomorrow,” he insisted, a stern edge in his voice to further supplant the denial that was keeping him able to breathe. Strength returning to his limbs, he resumed his path to the elevators, dragging his belongings behind him.

You were silly. You missed him and you were delirious from loneliness and sleep, and that’s why ridiculous things were coming out of your mouth, that’s all it had to be, he figured. End things? What you had was something precious and irreplaceable. Nothing could be better than what you were together.

It would be you and him for life, at least to him.

Unfortunately for you, that ideal had long since perished.

Any other time, you would have paused, your breath hitching in your throat, your heart pounding as you conjured up the image of your Tooru coming to be in your arms once more, to cross the vast distance and be yours again as it should be. He’d be quick to show you that he chose you over crowded gyms full of adoring spectators, a perfect set, the rush of victory, or a pretty Instagram model.

Any other time before, but time had run out with both you and him unsuspecting, in a flash of clear blue eyes.

---

A few months earlier...

“I’m not interested.”

Your voice was flat and so was your expression. Muttering a soft ‘excuse me’, you walked past the tall young man who had taken the fact that he’d helped you reach an item on the highest shelf (despite the fact that you were still somewhat tall, you still had struggled), as an invitation to follow you around the grocery store.

The stranger had started off indiscreetly at first, and you had to admit, when you’d passed him in the aisle, you had given him a double-take, and it wasn’t just because you were wondering how he could see the food before him with a black blindfold wrapped over his eyes, so you hadn’t thought too much of it. He was admittedly handsome - at least the lower part of his face was - and his relaxed voice and posture as he reached over and handed you your box of cereal reminded you just a smidge of your Tooru.

Your Tooru wouldn’t be caught in that nondescript dark ensemble, though.

Saying “thanks” and continuing on your merry way should have been enough. But instead, this same man had immediately started walking besides you as you pushed your cart as though he knew you, making comments about your groceries.

“I’m not particularly fond of eggs, but they’re a good source of protein.”

“You seem to have a sweet tooth, just like me!”

You probably should have been concerned about this man’s mental state, but he didn’t exactly seem harmful or delusional, just weird. But you were almost done with your shopping trip, and now he was in line with you with a single bag of chips in his hand, and it occurred to you for a while that this stranger might try to follow you home.

“Do you need something, sir?” You told him in exasperation.

He furrowed his eyebrows in mild confusion, still a smidge too close behind you and raised his bag of chips. “No, I’m fine.”

“Why are you following me?” You finally said, bolder than usual in this semi-crowded grocery store. You had had enough of being polite and you’d tried very hard so far. Today had been a long day and you just wanted to cook a meal and sleep, not argue with strangers.

“Oh, I was trying to be friendly,” he replied, shrugging, as though that were normal behavior, and thus here you were, switching lanes abruptly while making it clear to him that he needed to leave you the fuck alone.

Checking out of the store with your items occurred without incident but you had to admit you were both irritated and confused about that encounter, and again, while you didn’t exactly feel malicious intent or really any sort of ‘creepiness’ from the young man, the behavior was nevertheless alarming. You surreptitiously glanced over your shoulder just to make sure he wasn’t still in sight, only to catch him walking in the other direction, whistling again with the single bag of chips in his hand, now paid for.

Again stunned, you found yourself lost in a stare for a moment, a million questions in your head.

What was he trying to accomplish? And most importantly, how could he see with that blindfold?

What did he look like without it?

Quickly realizing your questions were getting absurd, you decided that whether he was attractive or not was a completely inconsequential thought, because the fact of the matter was that he had to be clinically insane. Absolutely.

With that thought in mind, you texted a friend briefly sparing the least salient details.

Call me in about thirty minutes if I don’t call you first. I’ll fill you in later.

Just for safety’s sake, but thankfully, you didn’t think you’d ever seen him again.

You may have brought up your odd encounter to Tooru that night, if he had managed to return your call.

---

“Go to sleep, I’ll talk to you when I land tomorrow. I love you, ____.”

Before you could protest, the line cut off abruptly and you lowered your phone to your lap. Now it was no longer just your voice wavering, but your entire body trembling as you sat over the side of your bed. You lurched forward, the pit of your stomach heavy with guilt.

Your Tooru was coming to see you and for once, he was the last person you wanted to see.

---

You had left your home a little later than usual but given that you would rather die than miss your morning coffee and croissant, you still stopped by your neighborhood bakery.

Noting that the line was a little longer than expected, you queued up, humming softly to the beats of your favorite song, not registering that the man standing before you had turned slowly in your direction and was now smiling down at you.

“Fancy seeing you here again.”

Your eyes furrowed as you looked up, then almost yelped in surprise when your eyes registered the same white-haired stranger who had stunned you at the supermarket lined up just two paces before you.

What the-

Of all the coffee shops in this city, why here? The hairs on your neck stood up on end, worse when he decided to keep speaking.

“Let me buy your coffee,” he proposed, tentatively. “Only condition is that you have to drink it with me.”

Today, the strangest of strangers almost looked normal; rather than a blindfold, his eyes were hidden by a dark pair of sunglasses and his hair had been allowed to fall into a slightly windswept cut. He was also dressed less eclectically, in a loose-necked long sleeved shirt and a pair of fitted dark jeans.

Like this, you could call him fashionable. He was definitely forward, at the very least.

He was obviously flirting and normally you would have a curt prepared answer for him, but the manner in which he leaned forward, smirking with hands on his hips, again felt too familiar. Like Tooru, who had forgotten to call you back and instead sent you a quick text that promised he’d get back to you.

If he remembered.

Before you knew it, and almost embarrassed as soon as it left your mouth, you blurted out, “I… have to go to work.”

It wasn’t a lie but for some reason it came out like one. Perhaps because what you would have normally said was, “I have a boyfriend,” without giving him a second look.

He frowned nevertheless.

“That’s too bad,” he finally said, letting out a loud sigh, excessively dramatic for the situation. You stared at him, dumbfounded, and he suddenly clasped his hands together, preparing to say something else but the barista had called for the next customer.

He made a motion for you to go before him, and flustered, you obliged, giving the barista a look that implored for help in any way he could offer it. The barista knew you well enough to ring up your order before you even asked for it, but not well enough to sense that the man behind you was actively harassing you.

“I can buy my own coffee, sir,” you murmured once you saw him rummage in his pockets and pull out his wallet while the barista went off to toast your pastry.

He grinned widely.

“Call me Satoru.”

---

“A drink for you, sir?”

The flight attendant’s voice betrayed a hint of irritation under her sweet tone of voice, hinting that she had been waiting for him to answer a while, and Oikawa realized that he had been staring at his phone for a lot longer than he expected. He flashed her his classic pearly whites before nodding, but the wheels in his head were still turning.

A mere couple of hours into the first leg of his flight back to Japan, he had taken to poring over his last few conversations with you.

Conversations that, at least from his end, had become pressured, short, and at times, he had been downright dismissive.

But he loved you - you had to understand that! It was a lot to manage: being available for you but also giving 150% of himself to the game.

So what if he missed your calls but kept his Instagram up-to-date? So what if he was a little bit too cozy with his fans (and known to be so)?

There was always you, and you were supreme. He’d do anything for you.

“Wine?” The attendant offered him the higher octave in her voice making it clear that Oikawa had managed to charm her back into her retail persona.

Maybe a glass, but he’d limit his drinking. He wouldn’t want to disappoint you when you met.

---

You were shocked.

Satoru stopped a car that was meant to crush you, and you were still trying desperately to comprehend what had just transpired.

You were possibly too eager to escape that coffee shop, to get away from the young man whose presence both unsettled your stomach and made your face grown warm, that you’d hurried out into the crosswalk, somewhat complicated drink and slightly crisped pastry in hand, and right into the path of a car hurtling through a red light.

You didn’t have time to scream or rarely even time to drop your drink, but the impact of your carelessness and preoccupation, between him, being late to work, wondering why the fuck your boyfriend had yet again forgotten to text back, never came.

Instead, the car seemed to halt to a stop almost immediately before you, before him who now stood before you with lips held into a neutral expression, and one hand in his pocket. Even if time seemed to stop for a split second, the force that should have struck your body didn’t, instead hurtling around you in a terrifying gust of wind.

But you were safe.

There was a shatter of glass windows as energy redistributed and the car took the brunt of the shock, and airbags deployed, engulfing the driver who could have possibly ended your life.

When Satoru finally turned to you slowly, looking at your cowering form, you finally caught a glimpse of piercing blue. For once he wasn’t smiling, and he was suddenly much more terrifying than anything else.

As though the mask had come off.

He didn’t ask if you were okay. Instead, he asked you to control your grief.

---

You shouldn’t be able to love anyone so much that your heart breaks repeatedly.

Something about you had to be pathological - it couldn’t be normal to feel the pain of separation this acutely. It was just a long-distance relationship, even if he was just getting more famous and less available by the day.

You shouldn’t wake up wondering if you could still breathe without him.

You shouldn’t.

---

“I’m a sorcerer,” Gojo revealed as he stirred a warm caramel latte, as though he had said the most natural thing in the world.

You tilted your head over so slightly, knit eyebrows betraying your confusion.

“... Like a circus performer?”

The repetitive turn of his wrist halted almost immediately and he looked at you, the constant smug smirk immediately awash from his features.

“Do I look like I belong in the circus?!” He half-exclaimed, half-whined, as though you were the only patrons in this bustling coffee shop. Part of you was bent on saying yes, but you kept mum yet staring at his face in distress, you find yourself stifling a giggle.

Now that he’d saved your life, you felt (and probably erroneously so) obligated to at least indulge him in coffee, and your curiosity about the young man sitting before you a whole day later now waffled between morbid and genuine.

Cursed energy? Leaking from you? Sorcery?

He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair once he realized you were more entertained by his distress than anything else, crossing his arms and raising his legs on the table. You stared at the bottom of his shoes with mild disgust but instead focused on his face.

He really was like your Tooru, the boyfriend that slipped away from your reach in your nightmares, causing you to wake in a cold sweat. You shook the thought of your head, a quick barely perceptible movement, and crossed your own arms.

“You’re sad enough that I can sense it, which despite the fact that I am obviously quite gifted, can be a bit of an issue long term.”

“Why would it be an issue to you?”

“Because grief creates spirits and spirits are a pain in my ass.”

You furrowed your eyebrows again.

“So you followed me because you thought I was sad?” It sounded far fetched enough but absolutely on brand for a weirdo like the man before you. You took a sip of your tea - you’d picked chai for this… meeting. It wasn’t a date.

He grinned, an elbow rested on the table propping up his chin as he leaned back towards you.

“No, it’s because I thought you were beautiful.” ---

For the first time in a year, Oikawa’s first step back on Japanese soil did not immediately bring him joy but anxiety.

It was odd for him to feel anxiety, this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, but of course it would dissipate the moment he saw you.

But first, a warm shower in his new hotel room. Then he’d go to see you.

It felt odd not to have you waiting for him, your million dollar - no, priceless - smile on your face, so he could kiss you dramatically in the midst of all watching to again reassert that you are his, and his alone.

But you were upset, and understandably so.

So he would come to you, as a good boyfriend should.

---

“I have a boyfriend,” you told him immediately and indignantly, as you got up to leave. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I’m not interested.”

He didn’t rise as fast as you did, watching you calmly instead as you balled your fists in irritation. It’s so shameless how he flirts, you thought. He’s so bold and rude and even if he’s a ‘sorcerer’ as he claims, there’s no spell that he can cast onto you that will make you leave Oikawa for him.

Not your Tooru, whose last Instagram post features a beautiful, tan, large-breasted and bikini-clad woman you’ve never met.

“Where is he then?” Satoru said in a low voice. He didn’t necessarily mean to cut but it did anyway. A lump formed in your throat.

“Overseas.”

---

The sound of chirping crickets is surprisingly loud for this part of the city, Oikawa considered, as he made his way towards your apartment building. It was an atypically warm evening for this point in the spring and he briefly mused if that is what excited them. Maybe they were cheering for him. They sounded a lot like the crowds if he closed his eyes.

He also hoped you had room for the gifts he carried with him, the most important of which was a Cartier bracelet he would hand to you once he departed, with a solid gold T for Tooru.

If he was on the search for fame and glory, he had to spoil you too, right?

To think that you were so angry with him that you had not yet contacted him since he had landed.

He knocked on your door finally, noting the shuffling of too many feet towards the door. This was the right door. He didn’t understand. Did you have friends over?

He called, and you didn’t immediately pick up.

---

“You have to leave!” You hissed. The statement was a plea and it was a command and it was a curse.

The blue of Satoru’s eyes was less electric in the dim moonlight, now more of a cool ice. Bare naked like this and barely visible save for the cracks of the illuminated city through your blinds, he was unfairly beautiful, as though he were carved out of marble. Again like your Tooru. Like, not better.

But still, he was there when Tooru wasn’t.

But Tooru was there now, knocking on your door, having traveled thousands of miles despite the fact that you had broken up with him just yesterday.

It was too little, too late.

But you didn’t love Satoru. He was just a band-aid for the loneliness that wrung agony out of you.

Right?

“I don’t want to leave,” your makeshift lover replied, flatly.

Your glare was sharp and instant, but Satoru matched your look, less pointed but unwilling to sway.

An unstoppable force, no different from the day he’d saved your life.

But he’d caused the problem in the first place, hadn’t he? Would you have run out so carelessly if not for him?

Your voice softened as you slipped on your clothes. The fight was lost before it started.

“Please? I… I can’t do this to him.”

Only a plea was left.

Your phone started to ring and your throat felt as though it would close up.

“___?”

Before you knew it, you heard your front door open and your heart dropped into your throat.

---

“What the fuck-”

Blue eyes were cruel.

Oikawa prided himself on his height but Satoru was taller, and his smirk was wide, while Oikawa’s face was ghostlike, devoid of any appreciable expression. Stunned.

“So you’re the boyfriend?” His voice dripped with mock amusement and he patted him on the shoulder before swinging open the door wide, letting Oikawa into his own girlfriend’s apartment, only to stand face to face with you whose feet seemed glued to the floor in shock.

“I.. T-Tooru..”

“Are you fucking serious?!”

His voice came out as a cry and his tears hot and fast. You never thought you’d see him crumple so fast, for you, for anything.

Your mouth opened and closed, and your hands shook but again, you stayed planted to the same spot while Satoru, still shirtless (but at least with the decency to have worn a pair of pants before answering the door), settled himself on the couch.

Before you could open your mouth to find a word to defend yourself to your sobbing boyfriend, your visitor let out an exaggerated yelp.

“____, you really showed no mercy on my asshole, did you?” he jeered. Then covering his mouth, he made a gesture of ‘Oops.’

What could you do?

Oikawa looked like he would stop breathing any second. He wanted to fight and maybe scream, but what use was that?

You had broken up with him yesterday.

You approached slowly, attempting maybe a touch, anything that would make your mistake less grievous.

You’d only been seeing Satoru for several weeks to… you weren’t sure why, really? Tooru was the one you loved. And to see him curl up like this… someone who was normally so proud...

You were disgusted with yourself.

“Tooru-”

“You said you’d wait for me.”

It was shocking how quick he rose, broken dignity, gifts and all.

“Tooru!”

He turned to leave, while Satoru contented himself on picking the earwax from his ears. It was easier to be like this, insufferable, than to gracefully accept the idea that his object of affection loved someone else.

He’d coveted you from the day he’d met you.

“Tooru!!!”

You were running after a man who gave 150% to everything, yet again.

Everything but you.

But had he at the very least given you 100%? You weren’t sure.

Oikawa was the last person who could accept the thought of someone else. You weren’t sure if he’d call you ever again. You weren’t even sure you wanted to break up.

Cursed energy. Maybe you didn’t just leak cursed energy. Maybe you were just cursed.

Heart shattering to pieces once Oikawa was no longer within view, you made it back to your room. Satoru was there waiting, and you couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but his arms were open, and so you fell into them.

#oikawa x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #commission work #crossover fic #haikyuu x reader #jjk x reader #haikyuu x jjk #mae.writing

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laviefantasie · 3 years

Text

Your Biggest Fan | L.P.

Pairings: Alive!Luke Patterson x Alive!Reader

Summary: An obsession that became a friendship and flourished to love. That’s the story between Sunset Curve’s lead singer and guitarist Luke Patterson and Y/N Y/L/N.

| MASTERLIST |

Sunset Curve was the boy band of the moment. Luke, Alex, Reggie, and Bobby were everyone’s dream boys. What started as a small band playing on the garage of their best friend, Julie Molina, ended up with millions of fans all over the world as they tour it.

It started as a dream and a small group of friends. Julie helping the boys with the band management while Carrie Wilson, Bobby’s rich cousin, designed all their outfits. It had been the six of them at the start.

But their fame grew and things were asked of them. The boys soon started homeschooling and Julie’s mom, Rose, took over the management of the band.

Julie and Carrie stayed behind as the boys grew busier and that’s when they met Flynn and Y/N.

The four of them became best friends in no time and soon they stopped missing the boys. They chatted from time to time with them but they were okay with them not being there.

Of course, Y/N and Flynn had no idea that the two teenagers were Sunset Curve’s best friends. It had been a silent agreement between Carrie and Julie that they didn’t need to know, especially since Y/N was probably their biggest fan.

Not the normal ‘I love you’ kinda fan but the ‘I’ll kidnap you’ kind. It was okay, they thought it was hilarious but it was definitely better if she didn’t know.

But soon the girls found themselves in their junior year of high school with the news that Sunset Curve was coming back to LA and to Los Feliz High School.

Carrie and Julie walked with dread around the hallways of their school as soon as they received the call from Carrie’s father, Trevor Wilson, stating that the tours had been paused so that the boys could have their last year of high school with the full experience.

They were gonna spend their senior year with them at their high school. As much as the girls like the idea, they dreaded it. But it was happening.

“JULIE! CARRIE!”

The yell of Y/N had both girls flinching as they knew the reason behind the excited scream and the smiling Y/N pulling an annoyed Flynn across the hallway towards them.

“Did you hear?! Do you know?! Can you believe it?! This is so exciting!! We’ll meet, it’ll be love at first sight!! I cannot believe it!! It’s destiny! This is the—”

“Y/N! Honey, I love you but you need to calm down” Carrie cuts her off.

“We need to tell you something” Julie starts while sharing a look with her blonde friend, “We actually kno—”

“CARRIE!/JULIE!”

The scream of the girls’ names has everybody in the hallways turning their gazes towards the sources, everybody gasping as they see the boys of Sunset Curve in all their glory.

Y/N let’s out a strangled scream as she sees them running towards two of her best friends with huge smiles.

Carrie and Julie share a worried glance before looking at Flynn, the braided girl grabbing the fangirl from her shoulders to keep her in her place.

Soon, the boys find themselves by the four girls’ sides and Y/N feels her legs shake as they hug Julie and Carrie.

“It’s been so long, we have missed you!” Exclaims Reggie while holding Carrie’s stare a while longer than necessary.

The six of them start catching up and it takes a while before they notice the other two girls, but Alex does and soon acknowledges them.

“Hey, I’m Alex”

Y/N’s legs give out and soon Flynn is catching her with a groan, Carrie and Julie looking at their friend in worry.

“Um... this is Flynn and this—”

“OH MY GO—”

Flynn covers Y/N’s mouth with an apologetic smile before leaving with her, despite Y/N’s efforts to stay.

Julie smiles at the boys, “That is Y/N. Our best friends”

“She is a huge fan” Carrie adds.

The boys laugh a little weirded out before proceeding to catch up with the girls they saw as family.

As the days passed, things started finding its way. Carrie once again started making the outfits for the boys and Julie now took over songwriting with Luke.

Y/N, on the other hand, kept going as she always did. She daily updated her Sunset Curve fan club blog, now with better content thanks to actually knowing the boys, as well as followed them around as much as she could.

Things didn’t change too much on her but her friendship with the boys grew. Thanks to being one of Julie’s best friends, Y/N spend most of her time at the Molina’s house and so did the boys.

Movie nights happened a lot and Y/N didn’t faint anymore at the sight of them.

So it got better. But she was still crazy about them and it showed whenever they didn’t give her enough time to control her emotions before going near her.

“Hey, Y/N/N”

A shriek leaves the h/c haired girl before her pretty e/c eyes turn to Luke. All sleeveless-beanie-vans Luke.

“Uh—I.wh—Hi”

If the brown-haired guitarist noticed her stutter, he didn’t mention it. Instead he turns his phone towards her showing her a photo of him while on tour.

“I want to post this on Instagram. Is it good enough?”

One thing the boys had noticed as soon as they got to know the girl was that she was a talented photographer, meaning she had an eye to know which pictures were the best ones.

So, they always asked her before posting something and sometimes even let her post from their accounts.

“I—Uh...”

Y/N stares at the photo intently, choosing to focus on that instead than on the pretty looking teenager in front of her.

“May I?”

The lead singer nods and soon the new iPhone is on her shaking hands. Y/N takes a deep breath before starting to edit the photo as she sees best, making sure to not make it look photoshop but to make it look better.

Once she is satisfied with the results, Y/N holds the phone towards Luke who takes it eagerly. A smile takes over his features once he sees the final result.

“This is perfect. You’re the best”

Whatever Y/N was gonna say is quite down by Luke’s soft kiss on her cheek, the boy leaving without knowing what he had caused on the petite teenager.

Carrie, who was on the locker across from the scene, walks towards her best friend with a knowing smirk.

“You’re gonna faint, aren’t you?”

Y/N nods before letting herself fall, Carrie catching her with a small laugh.

For most of that school year the boys saw Y/N as the girls’ best friend and a fan, but not really as a friend. They didn’t really know her.

But after half of the school year they each got to have their fair share of moments with the young girl.

For Reggie it was in one of his darkest moments. The leather jacket lover was being surrounded by a bunch of fans on a trip alone to the beach, it would’ve been okay any day but that day was the anniversary of his parents’ divorce and he couldn’t take it.

So he ran. He ran as far and as fast as he could from them without noticing the curious glance of e/c eyes, without noticing the one person who didn’t stop following him.

He stopped until he thought he was alone and hid from sight, breath short and heart plummeting in his chest. He stopped because his chest started to hurt and his vision became blurry. It soon became harder to breathe and the weight of his body became too much.

He felt his legs give in but before he could fall soft arms went around his waist helping him sit down softly.

He couldn’t see who was the person helping him but he could hear —barely— the soft murmurs on his ear. Was it singing? He didn’t know but it helped soon calm his racing heart allowing him to breathe better.

He didn’t know how much time passed before his vision cleared up and the feeling of suffocation subsided, but it did and he finally saw his holder.

“Y—Y/N?”

The boy’s voice sounded softly, like a whisper, and weak. It was as if he had been lost and had finally found his way home.

“It’s okay, Reg, it’s okay” she softly states, “You had a panic attack but it’s okay now”

Reggie nods slowly before hugging her closer, needing the feeling of loneliness to subside too. And it did. Because she was there.

She didn’t have to be but she was.

They spent a lot of time there just sitting together and talking about random things, never did Y/N burdened him as she normally did and she didn’t questioned him on the reason behind the attack.

All she did was offer a shoulder and a distraction, and that meant the world.

That’s why when Reggie got to the apartment he shares with the other boys he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

“Reggie!” Exclaims Luke before hugging him, “Where were you man? We were worried”

Alex and Bobby take their turns hugging the bass player before looking him over for any sign of injuries.

“I am okay, I was with a friend”

After that Reggie always sat by Y/N’s side in class, helped with anything he could for the blog she constantly worked on, and —sometimes— went to the beach with her.

It helped Y/N’s fangirl side control itself, especially since she started seeing him mainly as a friend.

Bobby’s realization of the value of her friendship was different. It happened after a concert the band had in a small cafe on the neighborhood, they were trying to get back to their roots.

The rest of the guys were surrounded by screaming fans as soon as they got off stage. Him, on the other hand, was ignored as usual.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t good looking nor the lack of talent. He just didn’t shine as much as Luke, Reggie, or Alex. And it was okay most of the time, but that night he really felt left out and angry.

At least he did until he saw Y/N in front of him.

“Luke’s over there”

A blush soon covers the teenager’s cheeks causing Bobby to smirk. It was not secret which band member was the one that could make the girl’s cheeks turn a crimson color.

Y/N shakes her head and soon straightens her Sunset Curve crop top before clearing her throat.

“I was... uh—Could I have an interview?”

Bobby furrows his eyebrows, “Wouldn’t you rather interview Luke?”

Confusion settles on the small girl’s face as soon as the words leave the rhythm guitarist’s mouth.

“I thought... did you write the music for this set list?”

He nods and she smiles.

“Then I don’t want to talk to Luke, he gets enough praise already” she assures him “I’m more interested in the process of the making of the melody, can you answer some questions?”

He nods again and soon she starts questioning him, he answers her while watching her in shock. No one had ever minded nor acknowledged his part in the songs.

Y/N did. And every question she asked demonstrated she knew of every single one of his contributions.

She must’ve noticed his demeanor because she put her things away and to smile sweetly at him.

“I’m not the only one that knows what you do, Bobby” she states “Sunset Curve wouldn’t be Sunset Curve without you”

That’s all it took for Y/N to have Bobby by her side, sitting by her every class he could with Reggie. The girl being a stuttering mess at the start but soon finding ways to converse with both rockstars.

Bobby considered her a friend. A friend not because she was family, like Carrie, nor because she was Luke’s best friend, Julie. A friend because she saw him, she saw his value.

He had never been enough but whenever she talked with him about the band with that glint in her eyes he saw he was.

For Alex it was in an entire different environment. The h/c haired beauty saw the blond drummer on an LGBTQ+ parade, both surprised to see the other one there.

The drummer started stuttering trying to find a way to explain the reason why he was there when Y/N just smiled and told her she was bisexual. She even joked about a small fling she had with Julie during their sophomore year.

Alex smiled in relief when she didn’t question him and instead offered to join her as her support. She was giving him the perfect excuse for his presence there, acknowledging he was not ready to voice the truth.

“Thank you” he finally says.

All she does is smile before grabbing his hand and taking him to a group of skaters, mainly towards a long brown-haired on with a rainbow colored skateboard.

“Hey, Willie! I want you to meet a friend of mine”

The three of them talked until morning about their feelings. About how hiding the truth felt like drowning, like living a life that wasn’t theirs to live.

It was like a breath of fresh air for Alex. Talking to someone who understood, someone who had been through their own experiences, it made him realize that his parents’ approval wasn’t worth not being happy.

And happy is what he was choosing to be, especially after Willie gave him his number with a kiss to his cheek.

He walked Y/N to her house in silence after. Both of them with soft smiles on their faces.

“I just don’t want anyone to change the way they see me” he admits “I’m still me”

“You’re still you” She agrees and he nods “Nothing changes, Alex. I still have a crush on you, I just now know I have zero chance”

He laughs, vivid and happily, before hugging her tightly. Next Monday, Alex and Y/N spent most of their time together gossiping about every latest news the teenager girl had.

The girl still froze at first contact with either of the boys but after a while she could hold on normal conversations.

With Luke it was different.

Luke had been writing on Julie’s garage the next song for Sunset Curve, the one he had been having trouble with for the last week, when Y/N ran into the studio.

“I’m here, Julie! You ready for Calcul—AAAHHHH!”

Luke’s hands fly to his ears as he hears the girl’s loud scream. Y/N only stopping when she feels her lungs give in.

“Uh—Wh—I jus—Julie?”

He chuckles while closing his songbook, “Jules is not here. Left to go get Carlos from his baseball practice”

“Oh”

An uncomfortable silence soon settles between them, a silence cut off as soon as the sound of the teenager’s phone taking a photo makes them both look at one another.

“Oh... Oh! Thought I had it in silence” she laughs awkwardly “It’s... uh, for the blog”

He nods with an awkward laugh before opening his songbook once again. He had better things to concentrate on than Julie’s best friend.

Don’t get him wrong, he liked her. He thought she was funny and nice but she was just too much sometimes and he couldn’t handle it. Especially not now when he had a song to worry about.

“What are you doing?”

Her question has him gazing at her for a moment before settling once again in his unfinished lyrics.

“Just writing a new song”

An excited squeal leaves the h/c haired girl and soon Y/N is by his side reading his lyrics through his shoulder.

He shudders once he feels her breath in his neck and he soon turns to look at her, admiring her features as she reads the lyrics carefully.

“What if you... scoot over”

She doesn’t let him answer and is soon pushing him to sit besides him on the piano’s bench, ignoring his protests.

He is about to ask her to let him be when her fingers starts moving through the keys, the melody he had thought for the song —the one written on his songbook— was playing through the studio.

With some little —yet good— changes.

“A piano intro would be great. And then...” she explains before starting to sing softly, “Sometimes I think I'm falling down, I wanna cry, I'm calling out for one more try to feel alive”

Luke’s eyes widen as he hears her soft but powerful voice. He didn’t know she could play, much less sing.

And, wow, she could sing.

“And when I feel lost and alone I know that I can make it home....”

She stopped singing as she saw the empty space on the verse and just as Luke was about to explain the lack of progress she started playing once again.

“Fight through the dark and find the spark. Life is a risk, but I will take it”

“Close my eyes and jump” he adds as she stops, “Together, I think that we can make it”

They look at one another before harmonizing together the end of the verse that he had written down, “Come on, let's run”

She stops playing with a huge smile and both laugh in excitement, both slowly stop laughing without tearing their gazes apart.

A soft blush soon taking over Y/N’s features as she sees the way he gazes at her as if trying to figure her out, which he was. How come he didn’t know she could write, sing, and play like that? How come he didn’t actually know her?

The moment, though, is interrupted as Julie walks through the doors of the garage apologizing to Y/N for being late and then taking her to her room.

Never noticing the curious and amazed expression on the guitarist’s face.

Soon the four members of Sunset Curve were in awe of the obsessive fan who annoyed them as much as she could, soon she didn’t truly annoyed them.

The rest of the boys’ senior year was spent amazingly with the girls, but the year ended and the boys had to go back to prioritizing their band while the girls did their senior year.

They all FaceTimed a lot. They tried to stay in contact as much as possible during that year, especially Carrie and Reggie —since they started dating a few months before the boys graduated—, but they were all pretty busy. Even Y/N who was still daily updating the band’s blog.

Experiences happened, lessons were learned, the girls grew and soon they graduated.

Everything changed.

That was the first thing Luke and the boys noticed when the girls moved in with them at their mansion to help with the band while they also attended college.

Everything had changed.

For starters, Julie and Flynn were now in relationships. Julie was dating a boy named Nick and Flynn a girl named Kayla, they both met them during the end of their senior year and had been together since.

Carrie, also, was now wearing her hair shoulder-length and straight instead of the long blonde waves she used to rock before. And she was now doing an internship of a famous designer’s brand that Luke didn’t know the name of.

But who had surprised the four of them the most was Y/N. The girl who the first three months they met her couldn’t stop herself from throwing herself at Luke. The girl who never once started a conversation with them without a stutter. The girl who was the president of their fan club. The girl to used to silently follow them around and admire them.

That girl was gone.

Instead Y/N had seen them, smiled, hugged them as a normal friend would, and left with the girls to get settled.

No screaming, no blushing, no overload of excitement.

Totally normal.

In worry, the boys had cornered Julie as soon as she had left her room to start questioning her on the abnormality. Julie laughing as soon as she sees the worry in their eyes.

“She’s no longer the teenager you met, guys. She still loved your music but she’s over you” she chuckles “She’s okay. She’s even dating now instead of waiting around for one of you”

The boys look towards one another in disbelief, Luke’s face falling a little after Julie’s words. She was over him? Why wasn’t he happy about it when that’s all he had wanted since he met her?

The answer to his question was answer soon.

Her being able to talk to them without fainting meant she spent more time with them. It meant she was spending more time with Luke.

Both of them would spend most of their nights on the music studio in the boys’ mansion writing songs and making melodies. They would play around in every break and they would laugh as loud as their voices allowed them to.

It was new to Luke. Being that comfortable with someone that wasn’t the boys or Julie and Carrie, being that comfortable and at peace with someone he met after he gained fame.

He didn’t connect with people as much as he used to since his life changed.

But he connected with her. He had connected with her since that afternoon at Julie’s garage when she showed him a part of her she never really showed.

And he never wanted to stop connecting with her.

That is why when they all went to the beach together he spent most of his time by her side, he loved the random conversations they could make and the way she would scrunch her nose while she laughed.

He didn’t understand what he was feeling until he went to play volleyball with the boys and turned around to catch a boy talking with her.

A handsome stranger that was making her laugh in the cute way only she knew how.

His fists clenched by his sides and soon he was standing besides her, stretching said guy’s hand and telling him all about her obsessive behavior during her junior year.

He hadn’t meant to be mean or to talk about her as if she was a crazy teenager who shouldn’t be trusted. But that’s what he sounded like.

Because he was jealous.

He hadn’t realized he was until he had already scared the boy off only to turn around and find Y/N on the verge of tears.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. He’s a douche”

“No! You’re the douche!” She takes a step away from him with teary eyes, “Is that how you saw me? A stupid little stalker who couldn’t get over her obsessive crush?”

He stays quiet as he sees the way her beautiful e/c eyes shine with hurt.

“Well, guess what? I’m not stupid anymore because I finally realized the awful mistake that was crushing over you to begin with! I’m over you!”

With those words, Y/N ran off not noticing the stares of her friends as she left. Carrie and Flynn soon running after her while Julie stayed behind with the boys to question his actions.

Actions he couldn’t actually excused. He was jealous and he had hurt her because of that and it wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve it.

“Luke... how long have you liked her?”

Julie’s question had the green-eyed boy looking at her with surprise before realization settles on him.

He likes her. He’d maybe even go as far as say he was falling in love with her.

“I... I think since that day at your garage”

Julie stares at him in confusion not knowing what time he was talking about but he knew. And that’s all it took for him to grab the curly-haired girl’s hand and ran off with her.

Reggie, Bobby, and Alex scream at him questions at his sudden actions —even Julie does as she is being pulled— but he doesn’t bother answering.

All the answer he gives is pulling out his songbook, Julie’s eyes widening as she realizes what he is planning.

The only way Luke knew to truly express himself was through music and that was what he was going to do. He was going to express his feelings for Y/N through a song.

It took exactly three days to finish the song. Three days in which Y/N spent most of her time in her bedroom trying to avoid running into Luke.

That's why she knew she couldn't do much about Julie coming to get her that day, urging her to get out of her room.

"I'm doing homework, Jules"

"You have more than enough time late" She argues back, "Move, now!"

Her papers are snatched out of her hands by Julie making her scoff, but one look at Julie's brown eyes and she knew she couldn't fight her on this.

With a sigh, Y/N stands up from her seat to follow the curly-haired girl out of her room to the pool.

There they find Carrie and Flynn waiting for them and soon the four best friends start chatting. Bobby, Alex, and Reggie joining them soon. Neither expected the music that started playing through the mansion's speakers.

Everyone looked towards one another in confusion except Julie and Reggie, who smiled at one another as they moved to sit together. The leather jacket boy had been explained everything as soon as Luke thought the melody needed two voices to harmonize with his.

Soon the music is joined by the sound of an acoustic guitar and Luke walks through the door and into view.

Y/N's face shows how confused she feels while all the others start smiling excitedly. Sentiments that grow as Luke starts singing.

“I never thought I would, did it

Never thought I could

I did it like that, did it like this

Did it like everybody knows"

He starts walking towards her with a shy smile, the meaning of the lyrics have his palms sweating and his heart racing.

"That we got something real, shorty

I know what I feel

So shout it like that

Shout it like this

Listen up, everybody knows

But you, so here it goes"

Before he is close enough to hear her, Y/N turns her face towards Carrie with a small smile full of disbelief.

"He likes me"

It's a statement and Carrie knows that, yet the blonde beauty still smiles happily while nodding before moving to sit by Reggie's other side.

"'Cause I never really noticed

Took a while for me to see

Playing back the moments

Now I'm starting to believe

That you could be at the show and know every word

But it's you who makes me sing"

Luke kneels in front of her giving her his best smile, a smile she returns sweetly.

Alex smiling alongside Flynn in excitement because of the scene that was unfolding in front of all of them.

"And I know where we are and I know who I am

Baby, I'm your biggest fan, oh"

Luke stares into her e/c eyes, remembering the first time they met and the way he had been weirded out by her internal fangirl moment. But then, somehow, things changed. One day he just didn't see her as that weird girl anymore.

"Every time you smile for me

Takes me a while to bring myself back

'Cause you're all that

And I just had to let you know"

Y/N stares at his bright green eyes remembering the first time he met the real him, not the one she met through her phone's screen but the real with imperfections him.

"That I'm screaming out in the crowd for you

I can't be too loud but I don't care

I let 'em all stare

I just want everyone to know

The truth, it's only you"

Carrie and Reggie share a look full of love, both remembering when they were just best friends and how hard it had been for the both of them to finally admit their feelings for one another.

"I never really noticed

Took a while for me to see

Playing back the moments

Now I'm starting to believe"

Alex smiles as he sees the huge smile on Y/N's face. To think that a year ago she had been the one to introduce him to Willie, who was now his boyfriend, and now she was here being serenading by one of his best friends, his brother even.

"That you could be at the show and know every word

But it's you who makes me sing

We may not know where we are but I know who I am

Baby, I'm your biggest fan"

Luke's playing falters as does his confidence, which everybody notices. Everybody around them soon screaming words of encouragement.

"Don't stop now, Luke"

"Yeah, sing it!" adds Reggie after Julie.

Luke looks unsure but one look at Y/N's hopeful face has him continuing the song. By rapping much to everyone's surprise.

"You showed up and you looked so classy

Made me think twice 'bout the way I was acting

You were real from the start of it all

Like a dream came to life, now I'm left in all"

A blush soon covers Y/N features and her face soon go to cover her face as her smiles becomes too big to hide.

Her all-time crush was seranading her a song that confessed his feelings for her, this had to be a dream. What were the odds?

"A stars shine but your light is the brightest

Love flies but your love is the highest

You're so sweet that it drives me crazy

A summer like no other, you're my L.A. baby"

Flynn joins Julie in snapping her fingers to the rhythm as the curly-haired girl keeps singing harmonies with Reggie for the brunette rockstar. Alex and Bobby soon joining in.

"I never really noticed

It took a while for me to see

(took a while for me to see)"

Everybody smiles as they see both of their friends stare at one another with so much love. This had been coming for a long time, they all knew it.

They knew it since the small talks became lingering gazes between one another.

"Playing back the moments

Now I'm starting to believe

(starting to believe)"

He couldn't believe he was actually as lucky as he was. He was falling for a talented and passionate girl who wasn't ashamed to let everyone know what she thought and felt.

He just hoped he was lucky enough to have her love him back, because if she said she felt the same he knew it wouldn't be because he was Luke Patterson, Sunset Curve's lead singer, but because he was Luke, the guy she wrote songs with from time to time.

"That you could be at the show and know every word

But it's you who makes me sing

And I know where we are and I know who I am

(I know who I am)"

Y/N lowers her gaze as she feels her eyes get a little teary with emotion. Having heard the words he had said about her the other day had hurt her deeply, but now he was letting her know exactly what he felt.

He was letting her see his soul. He was being vulnerable with her. He was telling she was worth being vulnerable.

"Baby, I'm your biggest fan, oh

Baby, I'm your biggest fan, oh"

As the song comes to its end, Y/N wipes the smile from her face to stare at her with a curious gaze. She knew how he felt but she still wanted him to actually say it.

"'Cause you could be at the show and know every word

But it's you who makes me sing

We may not know where we are but I know who I am

Baby, I'm your biggest fan”

Silence takes over all of them, Y/N raising her eyebrow to let Luke know she was expecting more than just a song.

"Oh!" He exclaims before proceeding to get rid of the guitar.

Reggie reaches for it before hurrying him to speak making Y/N let out a small laugh at the sight before becoming serious once again.

"I... Ju-I want you to know... Y/N, I..."

She looks at him with furrowed eyebrows as he stares at his hands for a moment to gather his thoughts.

Finally, he grabs her hands in his before staring into her eyes. Green and e/c meeting with many emotions swirling through them.

"I like you, Y/N. I have for a while, but I do" He states, "I like the way you scrunch your nose when you laugh, the way you can't stop yourself from singing along to all of our songs, how you always go out of your way to help the people you care about, I..."

He takes a deep breath, "Even the moments when you acted all crazy, I love those moments. Heck, I think I may love you. I just want to-"

Y/N's right hand finds her way to Luke's mouth, a smile overtaking her features while a deep crimson resides on her cheeks.

"Take me on a date first, okay?" he nods silently, "But, uh, I think I may love you too. And not Luke Patterson, I think I may love Luke"

That's all he need to hear before hugging her close to him as his friends cheer them on. He would take her on a date and they would see how things moved on from there.

But for now this was enough. They were each other's biggest fan.

#julie and the phantoms #luke patterson x oc #sunset curve #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #jatp #luke jatp #charlie gillespie

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emily-the-fae · 3 years

Text

Every Day is a Lullaby

A oneshot. This honestly came to my mind yesterday night, I do not know how well the idea turned out to be.

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Arthur Ketch x OC

Warnings:probably language, blood, injury, background character death, brief mentions of sex, angst mith mix of fluff

Rated: T

Mr Ketch has many sides, likable and repulsing - but which one of his faces is truly his is sometimes an uncertainty even for him.

Harper reflects on the changes on their relationship as they get out of a hunt gone wrong. While Ketch reconsiders some of his past choices... And reasons why he is still alive.

If he's a serial killer

Then what's the worst

That can happen to a girl

Who's already hurt

I'm already hurt

The first time Harper met him was a coincidence. It was long before the whole nephilim thing, long before she found out what kind of man he was, what kind of hunter he was. Yet even back then in the span of their first couple of meetings she felt he was no good.

A stupid hunting coincidence.

Harper was not used to hunting alone. She did that to herself - separated herself from the Winchesters. However much she loved Sam and Dean, she could not bear continuously being around them, not after everything that happened. Not after Charlie. Because no matter what Dean said or how Sam reassured her - it was her fault. Charlie was a great friend. Charlie had the brightest soul. Harper was late to help her and now Charlie was no more. It was all Harper's fault.

Driving away and going head first into hunting was the outmost Winchester way of dealing with the guilt and grief. Hunting alone while slowly coming out of her lowest phase - those were the circumstances under which Harper met Arthur Ketch.

The first time it happened it was a coincidence - two hunters choosing the same target is not uncommon. Harper was already on spot and all in the fight when he arrived. "Are you insane going into a whole vampire nest alone?" - those were the first words she ever heard from him. She might have been slightly insane, but he sure was a damn psycho. To be honest if not for him she would have probably ended up dead or turned in that vampire nest that night. Harper hates being honest about it.

The second coincidence happened just a few days after the first one - she would later on doubt if it was a coincidence at all. Perhaps it was. Harper would never really know - what she did know though was that he still had a small scar left above his left eyebrow - a mark of where she hit him with the grip of her gun, thinking it was the witch that was creeping up to her and absolutely not expecting to hear a male voice swearing after her blow. Arthur had not known her for 24 hours in sum and they were already making a scene after a hunt - Harper almost pitied she had not knocked him out straight away.

What happened on the next day? He caught her in the town and suggested to team up to avoid "future confusions". Rule number one how to become friends with Arthur Ketch: hit him in the face. Harper wasn't going to become friends with him - with any hunters for that matter - but fate seldom cared what Harper was going to do anyways.

Harper definitely lied to herself when she said that they were going to be only friends or that she was going to hate him after all the British Men of Letters invasion story. She didn't. Not with the way they met in the first place: him ripping her out of the claws of the angry remnants of the vampire pack - slightly concerned greyish blue eyes and a British accent was what greeted her at dawn that day, even though mid in fight she had accepted she would not see the sun again. It seemed symbolic how he saved her from giving up, from herself. And certainly not after the way their relationship went from mutual curiosity to blind semi-professional trust. Harper did not need a "friend" to console her: if she had wanted that she would have stayed around Sam - she needed someone unfeeling but understanding enough to see through her and consciously let it be.

She remembered it clearly - three hunts into their relationship - a month after their first encounter - they were sharing a hotel room. Two beds, late night after a hunt, she lied on her side and quietly cried. It was a demon hunt. The memories were too much. Arthur came into view and stared at her for a couple of moments before walking to his own bed.

- I'd say you can talk about it when you want to, but I doubt you will ever feel the necessity, - a brief caress of his hand against her shoulder. He did not try to relieve her, he allowed her to get to her own way of coping. For that Harper was grateful more than ever. - We all have skeletons in our closets, it's the downturn of the job.

Oh, dear Arthur, we are both now aware you knew far too well what you were talking about. Harper doubted any hunter had a closet cemetery as large as Ketch's.

Yet... Even after that - the awkward reuniting with the Winchesters, being pulled away from him as she came back to her old friends and witnessing, luckily from a safe distance, how the man she grew to trust without actually knowing him, uncovered darker and darker sides of his personality. What was worst - after she refused to join the BMoL, he would continue to sometimes keep her hunting company, going on like nothing happened. Like nothing changed. Why worst? It let the image of the heartless killer that she should have seen before her now connect and combine with the image of the man who would patch her up on her darkest nights and put a firm hand on her shoulder when Harper was too deep in memory to restrain herself. His presence around her became a reassurance in itself - because he did not have to know to understand. And because he simply had not been there - looking into his eyes Harper wouldn't get reminded of the times when everything was still right, wouldn't get reminded of that one time everything went very wrong. Probably those were the main qualities that helped him win a spot in her heart. Those and his unending casual flirting.

And now? After everything was over, after his very dark side was revealed, the confessions were made and the redemption was played, what did she think of him? The hunter, turned out just a very well trained assassin - he had served the British Men of Letters, he had served Asmodeus - now here he was separated from any commanding he ever had, living a hunting life of his own and sometimes collaborating with the Winchesters. Therewere many dark moments forgotten for the sake of peace. Many more had yet to come up - judging by how Ketch treated his own history and interests of others.

" - I wonder where Mick went, he was always so nice... Nicer than you, anyways. Pity he went away all of a sudden, - Harper mentioned once after a hunt.

- He did not go anywhere. I shot him in the head just like Hess ordered, - Ketch seemed calm and cold as steel. " Sometimes Harper thought that leaving BMoL would change him, but moments like that she realized how slowly the changes - if any - would have to occur. That night she simply walked away, not saying another word.

If anyone ever asked Harper how Arthur's spot in her heart had shifted after all the mess he had caused? She would say that he never even had one... And think that truth to be told there was no flame hot enough to burn him out of her chest - his name carved on her ribs would have been easier to get rid of than the bittersweet affection she harboured for the moral wreck of a man named Arthur Ketch.

If he's as bad as they say

Then I guess I'm cursed

Looking into his eyes

I think he's already hurt

He's already hurt

Despite that Harper never dared pursue a relationship. Why? She was very sure with people like Ketch the only right strategy was not to expect them to be capable of attachment. The flirting, the sweet promising looks he would give her after a well-accomplished hunt... Harper would dream of believing them to be genuine. She was very well aware thinking him in any way genuine was a risk she was not ready to take. She knew Ketch would not mind letting that affair happen - he made that quite clear. She also knew it would mean absolutely nothing to him apart from some company and a warm body in his bed. Arthur Ketch was cold, unemotional and taught himself well not to get attached to anyone - and even if that was not true, he tried his damn best to make it seem so.

Harper sometimes hoped she saw it in his eyes: a silent "please keep safe" when they would part after a hunt, a sparking "I missed you" when they would meet once again. Arthur sometimes hoped she would see it too - very deep in his soul, deeper than he would ever be able to admit even to himself.

In other words, the outcome of the new hunt would have presented itself sooner or later anyways. They were actually quite lucky to have it present itself the way it did.

The werewolf did not seem such a hard target - away from bigger packs, alone terrorizing the neighborhood - just because he could. Problem and solution crystal clear - a hunt where one clearly sees the root of evil is a blessing for a hunter that's used to all the versions of heartbreaking stories. What Harper did not so clearly see was the gun in their opponent's hands. To be more precise: she did see it, but a little too late.

Two gunshots rang at the same time: her silver bullet hitting right into the monster's heart and his normal one - ... Ketch fell against the wall, sliding down to the floor: his left shoulder bled, the bulletproof vest, even though being pierced in the thinner area, had preserved him from being too deeply injured - but not kept completely safe from wounding.

Several seconds of silence - making sure the werewolf is not a threat anymore - realisation and fear finally hitting Harper.

- Ketch?... Ketch?!... Arthur! - the hunter was too disoriented to answer and his silence was taken as a bad sign. - Oh Lord, Arthur, no! - gone are the self-restraint and professional coldness: the moment she sees blood on his chest, she rushes to his side, forgetting about everything else in the world. She needs to make sure he will be fine. He has to be. - Arthur, please, don't die on me! Arthur! - she calls for his attention, the hunter slowly regaining his senses.

For a moment there he believes he hears Tony. This reminds him of some of his unlucky hunts from the years before, though back then he had certainly had it worse. Besides this definitely was not Tony.

Tony would have said "Ketch's down" and carry on with the hunt, eyes on the target, and when the deed was done she would pass him with a short "How is it?" - more out of politeness than genuine caring. That was exactly what she did the only two times he had been seriously injured infront of her.

- Ketch, answer me right this instant, don't you dare fading out! - panic in her voice, genuine. The idea of someone caring as much as to panic at the thought of his death seems too good to be true - for him at least. Arthur feels hands investigating his chest, checking for the wound: cold thin fingers running over his blood-covered skin. Not Tony - Harper.

- I'll live, darling, it's nothing too serious, - attempting to sound confident, but his voice is rasp. It's nothing serious, but it hurt nonetheless: the blow on the shoulder was much harder than anticipated and the bleeding needed to be stopped.

Harper looks into the light blue, borderline grey eyes - he is staring up at her, his gaze unguarded only for a moment that lets her see the uncommon softness and hope in his expression - just for a moment - she believes the things she guessed about him were true, she believes the pain visible in his eyes is true, only by accident revealed to her. The state lasts only a couple of moments - but even that is more than enough for his visible emotions to imprint into her mind.

Arthur Ketch was able to feel. Arthur Ketch could be in pain. Arthur Ketch was capable of needing help.

I said "Don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi"

Sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat ooh-ooh

I just wanna dance with you

Hollywood and Vine, Black Rabbit in the alley

I just wanna hold you tight down the avenue ooh

I just wanna dance with you

It was a wonder that the hotel clerk did not stop them on their way - Ketch looked positively dying - Harper was quite sure there was no legal thing that could have happened to him that would have explained this appearance. This was the reason normal hunters chose motels: less suspicion. Harper briefly wondered where he got the money to maintain his former lifestyle, since he was stripped of the BMoL funding, but she guessed there were other sources on his side and he was just too stubborn to change his ways.

When they stumbled into his hotel room, Arthur made a move to drop himself on the bed, but Harper grabbed him by the collar swiftly, dragging him away in the other direction.

- Ketch don't you dare stain the sheets, they'll report us, - she mumbled, pushing him to enter the bathroom and dropping him to sit on the edge of the tub.

He would have laughed if the sudden movement had not caused sharp pain to shoot through his damaged shoulder, making him wince. Alexandra. He had wondered for so long whom Harper reminded him of and out of all moments they shared it was this that made him realise. The memory reappeared in his mind so vividly now.

"Artie, no! Don't go to your room, you'll stain your carpet! Mum will kill us!" - and the older girl held him under his arms, guiding him to the kitchen.

He still remembered it: the years before school, before Kendricks, him and his sister mostly alone in the house with parents constantly away. Alexandra had brought him up before Kendricks had. Alexandra had a lovely voice, she would read him bedtime stories, she would sing to him, she was kind and caring - probably the only human being in his life that ever seemed to care. When he went to Kendricks was the last time he had ever seen her... Well, alive. Alexandra was kind and caring - and that was probably the reason why she had not made it through the training. In fact her death might have been the only reason why he survived and made it to the top - having no one care about you has a benefit: you don't have to care about anyone too.

After his sister's funeral life had never felt the same and Arthur had been quite certain before that it was for the better. Now, watching Harper rush about, trying to find the medical kit to help him, he thought that he had been terribly wrong all the damn time.

How long has she known him? A couple of years, not more, but the relationship between them reached beyond the borders of friendship or companionship. That little american hunter - the first time he saw her he thought she was suicidal, the second one - bold and full of sass. The following months proved her well capable of combining both while turning out to be so much more, one of which being: to be able to love Arthur Ketch. Of course he knew she loved him - this was among those traits in her that he openly treated with polite contempt and deep down envied more than anything.

He watched Harper come to his side, sliding his hunting gear off his shoulders - her movements so gentle, her eyes filled with worry and guilt.

- I'm so sorry Arthur, I should have... - you're always sorry. You always think it is your fault and none else's. This was most probably the main reason why it was so easy for him to openly reject her feeling: they both knew she loved him, they both knew he saw it, he toyed with her so many times, being suggestive, flirting. "As long as I enjoy the physical aspects of having an affair, the emotional attachment that other people believe necessary to form is rather pathetic" - he told her once. He actually said that, those were his words. I would like to fuck you as long as you shut your disgustingly human little heart. She stared at him for a moment, her beautiful face almost successfully hiding the hurt - then turned away silently, shrugging her shoulders. He was being a jerk. Harper never stopped him from that, Harper seemed to take it all in and believe he was right, believe that her feeling for him was utterly pathetic. That it was her fault.

- It was no one's mistake, love, it was an unlucky accident. Besides it didn't turn out that awful, - he trailed off. She was cleaning his skin over the wound now, preparing to apply stitches. Arthur could sense a little shudder in her at the word "love". He was so used to saying it that he forgot about all the connotations it held. Lord, was he bad at this.

Harper continued her work silently. She felt him studying her face and prayed to be finished as quick as possible - she did not need another heartbreaking hope and she had already made the mistake of looking into his eyes that night. When the last stitch was done, she turned away to put the materials aside and sensed him straighten up behind her back - Harper felt he wanted to say something else, but she could not give him that opportunity. She almost thought he would die that night - seeing him on the floor made her blood run cold - she did not need any more pain to add to the aftermath of the shock.

- I'm going to my room, but please call me if you feel worse during the night, - she spoke, not turning to face him, ready to walk out of the bathroom. Harper felt his hand grab her wrist in a rushed movement and turned abruptly only to see him staring back at her with unguarded softness in his eyes. The only time she remembered Arthur look at her like that was when she twisted an ankle during the hunt all due to his mistake. It scared her a little to see that expression on him.

- Why won't you just stay to keep an eye on me? - his voice low, with an undertone she so often heard when he flirted with her.

- You're a big boy, Ketch, we both know that even stitching you up was superfluous, you can perfectly well tend to yourself, - a smile. Harper tried to brush it off jokingly, ready to make her leave, but his grasp on her wrist only grew stronger.

- Stay. At least for this night. Please, - the smile disappeared from her face. He sounded wounded, he sounded like he really pleaded. Harper broke away from his grasp, taking a step back.

- You don't need a... - she shook her head.

- But I do, - he stood up, taking a step towards her, not letting her increase the distance between them. His fingers came up to caress her cheek gently. - Harper, stay, - she shut her eyes, standing still and quiet for a couple of seconds, seemingly fighting back emotions.

- You don't mean this, - she said, looking up at him sharply and confidently, but in a moment, failing to restrain herself, she continues more quietly and softly. - Why do you have to be so cruel to me? - he could see tears brimming in her eyes.

They stood frozen in front of each other, her face so close to his, her eyes watering - not because of this particular evening, but because of all those times before he had behaved in similar nature. It was the first time she had so directly addressed the issue of her feelings for him. "Why do you have to be so cruel to me?" She seemed to be waiting for an actual answer. Why was she always so kind to him? Like he was normal, like he didn't hurt her? Arthur leaned down, his hand still cupping her cheek, his lips touching hers gently and firmly.

Harper closed her eyes - not as a girl would do in a pretty romantic movie - she shut her eyes, pressing her eyelids together, holding her breath, shuddering. A single tear ran down her cheek.

When they parted, though his face still stayed just a few centimeters away from hers, Harper opened her eyes again, her breath shaking.

- Arthur...

His free hand circled her waist, pulling her closer to him, as his fingers slid away from her cheek, moving behind her head, running through her hair. Arthur leaned close to her ear, his breath ghosting over her neck.

- Because I hate how you make me feel like I can still have a life, like not everything is lost. I hate how you make me feel worth being cared about and able to care. I hate how you make me feel, - he said that rushed and quiet. Pressing his front to the side of her head, breathing deeply.

- And what if you are lying? What if this all is for the sake of one night? I'm tired of guessing if you have a soul or not, Arthur, I'm too worn out, - she wispered after some time, leaning her forehead into his uninjured shoulder.

- Then trust me this one time. I promise. Please.

- Why?

- Because I need you. I need you to feel alive.

Arthur felt her let out a deep breath, her petite form pressing itself to his, her arms sliding behind his back to hold him close. She raised her head, freezing for a moment before their eyes met, then leaning up - their lips meeting now less gingerly than the first time.

- Does that mean you'll stay?

- You're such an asshole, Ketch...

- I know.

Harper hid her face in his chest, sobbing quietly, her form shacking, worn out both physically and emotionally. Arthur kissed her temple softly, caressing her back, for once feeling like he did everything right. For once feeling like they had a chance.

Happiness is a butterfly

Try to catch it like every night

It's escaping from me into moonlight

#supernatural #spn fanfiction #arthur ketch x oc #this is written half at night and half on school breaks please don't judge me #i havenot revisited this fandom in such a long time #arthur ketch x reader #arthur ketch #sam winchester #dean winchester #british men of letters #angst #happiness is a butterfly #lana del rey #oneshot #songfic

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reinerispretty · 4 years

Note

What if Zuko's S/o was a fire dancer, like they use their fire bending with their dances, and they dont tell zuko because their scared he would judge them or something, but one night Zuko and the gaang go to one of their shows and sees them

thank you so much for sending this in!! i hope i was able to do your idea justice :)

---

Meeting the Fire Lord’s son had been a chance encounter that (Y/N) could have never dreamed in a million years. While she had grown up on a small island off the coast of the mainland, she spent most of her days on Ember Island. Her dancing troupe performed for different travelers every weekend. They combined firebending with their dances and dazzled the crowd at each performance. She ended shows with fire lilies being thrown at her feet and a crowd standing outside of her dressing room door, waiting for autographs.

She had met Zuko while she was shopping in the market. She eyed her grocery list and reached out for a papaya only for another hand to collide with hers. Her eyes trailed up to find its source: a boy with dark hair, golden eyes, and a scar covering the side of his face.

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized. “Did you need that?”

“Kind of,” The boy had said, shrugging his shoulders. “But it’s not a big deal if you need it.” She pursed her lips. While she knew her fellow performers might be annoyed with her for not bringing back what she asked, she felt bad taking from others. She picked up the papaya and handed it to him.

“You take it. I’ll just get a mango.” She picked up the other fruit and plopped it into her basket. “I like the taste of mangoes better anyways.”

“Me too,” the boy said, offering her a small smile. She returned his gesture with a smile of her own. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“I’m here pretty much every day. I think it’s you who I haven’t seen around here before.” She offered her hand for a shake. “I’m (Y/N).” He shook her hand firmly, but didn’t introduce himself.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She nodded.

“Well, I gotta get going. Shen closes the shop at sundown and I have to be quick if I want to get some goji berries.” She gave him a small wave before turning on her heel.

“Wait!” He called out. “Shen’s goji berries are overpriced for what he offers. I can take you to a different place, if you’d like.”

“I’d love that! Shen’s berries cost me an arm and a leg.” She followed the mysterious boy through town, down some back alleyways, and along a dirt road. Even if he was a stranger who hadn’t given her his name, (Y/N) wasn’t scared of him. (Plus she was a pretty good firebender, so she liked to think she could take care of herself.)

He led her down to a part of the beach that she had never been: the royal neighborhood. It was the part of Ember Island where the most elite families lived. (Y/N) had always been far too afraid to ever go near this side of the island. She liked staying near what was comfortable.

The boy led her into the backyard of one of the houses. There, goji berry bushes grew in the dozens. Each bush had bloomed with bright red berries that made her mouth water. She looked up at the boy.

“Take as many as you like.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“No way! I don’t want to steal from anyone.”

“It won’t be stealing,” he said calmly. “I live here.” Her mouth nearly dropped open in shock, but she stopped herself. His face was kind and she could sense that he was being sincere. So, reluctantly, she began picking berries and dropping them into the basket.

“I think they ripened just the other day, so you can try some if you want.” He plucked a berry off the bush and popped it into his mouth. (Y/N) eyed him cautiously before chewing on her own berry.

“These are the best goji berries I’ve ever tasted,” she said as she stuffed more into her mouth. The boy laughed.

“I’ll be here for the next few days if you’d like to grab some more.”

And that is exactly what she did. (Y/N) returned each day to pick more goji berries and each day the boy joined her in the backyard, eating until he was full. They talked about anything and everything under the sun. Where (Y/N) was from, how they were both benders, and what their favorite part about the island was.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” (Y/N) said one day as they sat in the grass together. She plucked another berry from the bush. “But if you live here, that means you must be the son of some big public official, right?”

He sighed, plucking some grass from the ground and dropping the blades back down. “Yeah, you caught me.”

“Zuko!” Called another voice. From inside the house emerged a girl with dark hair and intimidating eyes. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Who is this?”

Instantly, (Y/N) had realized that she had been so, so stupid. She didn’t know why the scar wasn’t a dead giveaway, or the fact that he lived in the royal neighborhood. The boy that she had been spending so much time with recently was Zuko, Prince of the Fire Nation.

“This is (Y/N),” Zuko said to the girl. “She’s my friend.”

“I don’t know of any (Y/N)’s that went to the Royal Fire Nation Academy for Girls,” the girl drawled, leaning against the doorframe.

“That’s because I, uh, didn’t.” (Y/N) grabbed her basket and stood. “I really think I should go?”

“And maybe don’t come back,” the girl said, a smirk painted on her face.

“Wait!” Zuko grabbed her hand before she could walk away. “I’m leaving soon. Can I visit you somewhere?”

(Y/N) looked between him and the other girl, who she assumed was Princess Azula. And while (Y/N’s) profession garnered her tons of fans, not everyone was so accepting of it. Many times, uppity reach people had told her to get a real job and stop wasting her life away. She feared she would receive the same treatment from the members of the royal family.

“I have to go,” she said again, before quickly running away.

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

It had been months and Zuko hadn’t returned. She had watched from behind barrels as his ship left the royal port. She was sad that she had lost a friend but was relieved that she wouldn’t have to worry about him finding out who she really was. She wasn’t just a commoner, she was a performer, and the latter rarely got taken seriously in the Fire Nation.

As the months went by, she found herself thinking of Zuko more frequently than she would have liked. Their friendship had only progressed over the course of a few days, but during those days she felt like she could tell him almost anything. The conversations they had had in the goji berry bushes were some of the most intimate conversations she had had with anyone. Despite herself, she missed him.

Zuko returned to Ember Island with his new friends a few months after he had last been there. They had hidden out in his family’s old beach house because he knew it was the one place Azula wouldn’t think about searching.

“We should go!” Sokka said one evening as he held up a flyer to their group. It was an advertisement for a local group of firedancers. Despite living in the Fire Nation for the majority of his life, Zuko had never seen a firedancing show, so he and his other friends eagerly accepted. Satisfied with their response, Sokka put the flyer down on the table before walking away. Zuko eyed it for his information and noticed how the painting of one of the firedancers looked strangely familiar. It wasn’t until they arrived at the show that they realized why.

At the forefront of the stage stood (Y/N), the commoner girl he had befriended the last time he was there. She smiled at the crowd and waved to a few returning fans before doing a backflip and producing fire from her feet. The crowd, including Zuko and his friends, were absolutely delighted by the choreography of the production. The firedancers spun quickly around each other, yet none of them were accidentally burned.

“This is amazing!” Suki exclaimed. Toph grunted.

“Yeah, if you could see it.” But all Zuko could really see was (Y/N). He thought her moves to be far more beautiful and elegant than her peers. She combined challenging dances and challenging firebending skills to create a fantastic show. She was truly talented.

After the dancers had finished their set, Zuko requested that his friends follow him to one of the dancers’ dressing rooms. “Looks like Zuko’s got a crush,” Katara giggled, but he brushed her off.

He reached the door at the end of the hall that had (Y/N’s) name written on it in fancy script. He knocked. “Just a second!” He heard her shout, before the door flung open to reveal her in a silk robe and her hair in a knot, her makeup being half scrubbed off. “Oh no,” She said once her eyes landed on him. She shut the door quickly.

“What was that about?” Aang asked. Zuko lifted up a hand to signal his friend to be quiet. He knocked again.

“Just another second!” She called. From inside the dressing room, (Y/N) made quick work of brushing out her hair and washing off the rest of her makeup. Her heart was racing, partially from the show she had just put on, but mostly due to Zuko showing up at her door unannounced. She supposed that even if he had wanted to announce, he wouldn’t know how, but she was still incredibly nervous.

Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she opened the door slowly and smiled sheepishly up at him. “Hi.”

“You didn’t tell me you were a firedancer.”

“In my defense, you didn’t tell me you were Prince of the Fire Nation, so I think we’re pretty even.” Zuko chuckled, shaking his head.

“Yeah, but I was hiding my identity so you wouldn’t act weird around me. What’s your excuse?” She pursed her lips, looking at the ground.

“I thought that if you knew, you wouldn’t take me seriously. A lot of you rich folks come around and criticize me for what I do, so I guess I was just...scared.” She shrugged at the end before noticing the group of people standing behind Zuko. “Oh, hi! I’m (Y/N). I used to eat Zuko’s goji berries.”

Collectively, the group raised an eyebrow.

“I would never criticize you!” Zuko exclaimed. “What you did out there was absolutely spectacular. I thought you were the best dancer out there.” (Y/N’s) eyes widened and she covered his mouth with her hand.

“Don’t let the other dancers hear you saying that! They get crazy jealous.” Zuko wrapped his hand around her wrist and moved her hand down.

“Do you want to grab dinner sometime?” He asked. (Y/N) smiled.

“Yeah, I’d really like that. Let me just change into something that isn’t a robe.”

---

permatag list!

@aroyaldarknessblr , @harryisthesunshine

#atla #writing #avatar #zuko x reader #sokka x reader #aang x reader #katara #toph #suki #aang #zuko #sokka #iroh #azula #momo #appa #fanfiction #request

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superheroesofbothuniverses · 3 years

Text

An Enchanted Evening(Wintershock)

“I hear Pepper and Tony are throwing another Disney bash. You excited?”

Darcy looked up from her laptop as Clint stuck his head in her office to deliver the news. It never failed, if something interesting was happening, he’d be stopping by to discuss it. He was worse than her great aunts when it came to gossip, Darcy thought fondly.

“Yeah, but I’ll have to find a date. I don’t wanna be Giselle without a Robert, unless I can get Jane to go with me. She loves going as the evil queen.”

Clint looked confused.

“I thought you and Barnes were an item. I see you together all the time, looking all cozy.”

“Appearances can be deceiving, Clint,” Darcy sighed. “He doesn’t seem to want anything more than friendship right now. But he is pretty great at the whole friend thing.”

“If he did want more, would you go out with him?” Clint pressed, watching her searchingly.

“Totally,” Darcy admitted, knowing better than to lie to him. “But don’t you dare interfere and ruin this for me. I don’t want to push him away after how long it took me to get him to warm up to me.”

Bucky had been very skittish when he’d first arrived and Darcy tried the technique she’d used when befriending neighborhood feral cats: kept her distance while offering friendly greetings and looking as non-threatening as possible, left plentiful treats around, and cracked ridiculous jokes in his hearing in hopes of earning a smile. It had taken several months, but Darcy succeeded in Operation Befriend Bucky.

“Who are you and Laura going to go as?” Darcy inquired, trying to change the subject.

Clint grinned. “OutlawQueen, of course,” he supplied.

“Oooh. Going with the Once Upon A Time ship. It’s perfect,” Darcy admired. “Can’t wait to see it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lot of work to do if I’m going to be able to afford the dress I’ve got my eye on.”

“Just so long as you show up,” Clint relented. “See ya, Doc.”

With a wink, Hawkeye made himself scarce and Darcy returned to her work, trying not to picture Bucky dressed as a Disney prince.

Bucky had just finished an intense workout and was trash talking Steve in a way only a best friend could get away with when his long suffering friend decided to turn the tables on him.

“So I hear you’re the only one who hasn’t RSVP’d for the big disney ball,” Steve commented. “Thought you would be going with Darcy.”

“How many times do I have to tell you we’re just friends?” Bucky sighed.

Steve gave him a look of utter disbelief and sighed.

“Still in denial. But you do know you can accompany her as a friend, right?”

“And have to hear you lot gossiping even more? No thanks,” Bucky muttered, even as he really wished he had the guts to ask Darcy. Despite what he’d told Steve, Bucky was very interested in the new astrophysicist in a definite more-than-friends way, but so far, he hadn’t seen any signs that she shared this interest, so he’d stayed quiet rather than ruin one of the best friendships he’d made in his post-Hydra life.

Steve just smiled knowingly at him.

“If you change your mind, Darcy is going as Giselle from Enchanted. Nat told me yesterday. They’re going shopping for dresses tomorrow.”

“Never heard of her,” Bucky muttered, splitting off from Steve to take the stairs to his floor. The next evening, a Blu-ray of Enchanted had appeared on his coffee table. Bucky turned up his nose, but Natasha’s commanding note had him sighing and watching the movie anyway.

Despite the typical Disney cheesiness, Bucky found himself enjoying himself and actually laughing a few times at the antics of the ridiculously over the top Prince Edward. Robert seemed a more realistic hero for once and he found himself sympathizing with the man. Bucky was pretty sure there wasn’t going to be a happily ever after for himself, either.

After the movie ended, he sat and thought for a while, then called Natasha.

Darcy bought her dress, shoes, and jewelry, happily spending way more than she normally would thanks to her long hours and careful saving up for the day. The wine colored fit-and flare dress looked amazing on her and the skirt swirled in a very satisfying manner when she turned around.

“You’re going to be turning heads tonight,” Natasha commented as they hauled their purchases home. “Especially a certain someone.”

She wiggled her eyebrows and Darcy sighed.

“Whatever you say. I have no comment,” she said rather stiffly.

Natasha laughed.

“You say that now,” she said.

In the end, Darcy went by herself to the ball, having chickened out about asking Bucky, which she was already kicking herself for. Oh, well. At least she looked fabulous in her dress that looked just like the one Amy Adams wore for the dance.

She perked up a bit when she got to the fancy ballroom Tony had rented and met the rest of the Avengers in full costume. Sure enough, Clint and Laura were Robin Hood and Regina and looked amazing. Tony and Pepper were Captain Hook and Emma Swan.

“Aren’t you a little grey to be Captain Hook?” Darcy teased him. “But that’s a nice costume.”

“Hook’s a lot older than he looks,” Tony replied, waving his fake hook hand around.

Natasha and Steve were Ariel and Eric, which was an unexpected choice, but Nat looked great in her slinky, iridescent turquoise dress and Steve was a fabulous prince. Sharon and Sam were Rapunzel and Flynn Rider and Wanda was Princess Elsa, complete with a gorgeous icy blue dress and fabulous blonde wig. Thor strode around dressed like Hercules and Darcy hung out with him for a few minutes, exchanging small talk.

“Are you also unaccompanied, Darcy?” Thor asked.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “But I’m hanging out with friends and feeling fabulous, so I’ll be alright,” she assured him.

She completely forgot what she’d planned on saying next because Bucky Barnes arrived and was looking so gorgeous, she found she couldn’t breathe.

Bucky, feeling stiff and awkward in his fancy costume, was keeping his eyes peeled for Darcy, even as he greeted Steve, Nat, and Sam, all of whom seemed very surprised, but pleased to see him.

“She’s over by Thor,” Nat whispered helpfully and Bucky looked where she indicated and felt his heart skip several beats and his mouth go dry.

Darcy was looking incredibly gorgeous in a dress like the one from the movie, which was a simple design, but very flattering on her. She’d left her dark hair down and had simple silvery earrings that sparkled in the light from the massive overhead chandeliers.

In this moment, Bucky knew he was a goner. These were NOT platonic friendly reactions he was experiencing right now. Not at all. She locked eyes with him and her own widened, and she full on smiled at him, which propelled him towards her, now oblivious to everyone else in the room.

Darcy swallowed nervously as Bucky approached, looking stunning in an embroidered dark blue jacket clearly meant to replicate Robert’s costume from Enchanted. He’d pulled his hair back into a small ponytail and it only added to the appeal.

“Hi,” she said softly, giving him a smile.

“Hi,” he answered back, looking at her in a way that made her feel downright giddy.

“Wow. Darcy, you look beautiful,” he told her, sincerity oozing from his voice.

“Why thank you,” she replied, trying to resist the urge to fan herself. “You’re looking pretty fabulous yourself. I’d say what a happy coincidence we picked the same movie, but I know our meddling friends better than that.”

Bucky grinned at her.

“Yep. And I have to tell them they were right later.”

“Right about what?” Darcy asked, knowing what the answer was but wanting to hear him say it.

“That I’ve got it bad for you, doll. I didn’t think you felt the same way, so I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I don’t think that’s possible anymore.”

The way he was looking at her was giving Darcy tingles all over and she took a step close to him.

“We’re a couple of fail boats then, because I’ve been feeling the same way, and was also convinced I was stuck in the friend zone,” Darcy admitted. “All our friends could see it, but we sure were oblivious.”

“We were. As a trained spy, I should be embarrassed, but I’m just happy,” Bucky told her. “Wanna dance?”

“Gladly, handsome,” she told him. “I heard you’re very talented in that department.”

Bucky flushed a bit, but shrugged.

“People exaggerate, but I did enjoy it back in the day. Let’s hope I’m not too rusty.”

If Bucky was rusty, Darcy certainly couldn’t tell because she was enjoying herself too much. She’d never danced with a guy who could lead as well as he could and it was glorious. Looking into his blue eyes, she couldn’t help but flush at the expression in them and wondered if she looked equally smitten.

Bucky was thinking about how perfectly they fit together and how her eyes were downright sparkling. That look she was giving him was downright dangerous and he never wanted this moment to end.

They ended up dancing through three more songs before Darcy pulled him away from the party.

“Tired already?” He asked teasingly.

“Bucky Barnes, you’d better kiss me right now, or so help me, Thor…..” she threatened playfully, pointing her finger at him. She didn’t have to say it twice. Bucky had been wanting to kiss her for a long time and just like with the dancing, proved to be very skilled.

“That good enough for Ya?” He finally asked.

“It’s a great start,” she whispered as she caught her breath.

Across the room, their friends looked on in amusement and approval.

“Nice work,” Steve told his girlfriend, who was looking very pleased with herself. “I thought you’d have to lock them in a closet or something.”

“Don’t think that wasn’t on the table if they kept being oblivious or Barnes refused to show up tonight,” Natasha admitted. “And I used to think YOU were the stubborn one.”

Steve laughed.

“You’re my favorite Disney prince, Bucky Barnes,” Darcy told him as they swayed together to a slow song.

“Just don’t expect me to sing or talk to chipmunks,” he muttered playfully. “Gotta draw the line somewhere.”

#wintershock #fluff #Disney inspired #darcy lewis #Bucky Barnes #I just watched enchanted

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alolowrites · 4 years

Text

A Vision Come to Life

Summary: Every artist wants to bring their own paintings to life. Sero is no different after he becomes infatuated with you—a beautiful stranger who exists in his dreams. One night he sees your face and decides to paint you with all his heart.

Song: “Pintame” by Elvis Crespo

Author’s Note: I always had this story idea in my head after listening to this song. It was different, and I just had to write it out. Not sure why it took me forever to get it done. Probably because I don’t know much about painting and really did not want to make a fool out of myself (I’m sorry if something is wrong, I tried my best with the research 😭😭😭).

On another note, this is my first story for Sero so yay! Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1.6K+

Sero felt alive again.

He rushed into his private art studio, nearly tripping over the blemished tarp covering the floor. Both sleeves hastily rolled up past his elbows. Sero swiveled nonstop and panicked when he couldn’t find the cart filled with the art supplies. Ah, it was at the far corner; he wheeled it closer to the center. Precious time was fleeting, and so was the inspiration that came to his head just now.

After being stuck in a rut for almost a month, Sero was itching to paint something. Or more accurately, he was dying to paint a certain someone. And that person was you—a stranger he’d never met in his life. Yet, you managed to invade his dreams every night for the last two weeks. It was like a game; you waltzed in, giggling up a storm, and Sero ran after you. He saw your back, but never your face; he would wake up just when you’d turn around to show yourself. That was how all his dreams ended.

Until this morning.

Sero plopped down on the stool that wobbled under his weight. The blank canvas stared back at him. Fingers scrambled to grab a charcoal pencil lost in a messy pile of his art supplies. A good sketch of your head and shoulders was key to bringing you to life. His eyes followed the delicate strokes that fleshed out your beautiful features. He didn’t want to miss out on a single detail on this painting.

Especially that lovely face of yours, the one that took his breath away. Sero gave special attention to those unique details. A quick solution was added to seal the sketch and left to dry. Sero distracted himself by prepping his materials. All his fingers twitched, and he bit the inside of his cheek so hard it could bleed. The urge to paint you drove him insane. He couldn’t help it—the artistic flame was burning again, and much stronger than before.

His eyes wandered to the canvas. One touch and the corners of his lips curved; it was dried. The imaginary chains broke loose, allowing Sero to dive straight into his work. A ray of sunlight peeked through the windows. Sero grinned, brushing the paint across your cheeks. Each movement felt natural, and he let you—his muse—be his guide.

Sero wanted to capture everything about you.

He painted your nose so he could breathe the same air as you. He painted your lips, those soft and luscious lips that begged for a kiss. He painted your eyes that left him mesmerized no matter where he stood. He painted you with every bit of passion and desire raging in his heart and soul.

You only existed in his dreams, but Sero knew that’s not where you belonged. His mind was too cramped for your magnificent presence. You deserved better than that. Which was why Sero chose to paint you on the largest canvas he owned like the absolute queen you were. Anything less would fail to showcase your exquisite beauty in Sero’s eyes.

Another stroke here. A dash of color there. A touch of shade everywhere. Not once did the paintbrush stop its graceful dance across the canvas. It was as though Sero was under a spell where his only focus was on you. Sero succumbed to the madness clouding his sense of reality. There was no use fighting against it. He trusted you, the lovely muse living in his mind, to control him until he finished the masterpiece.

Sero switched to a thinner brush so he could add the finer details with great precision. He paid special attention to your eyes and lips. The tip of the brush dabbed around your irises, emphasizing the playful glint that drove Sero crazy. As for your lips, they carried a mischievous smile as though you knew something he did not.

An exhausted sigh broke the silence. Sero wiped the sweat beads trickling down his forehead. He finished and took a couple of steps back to admire his artwork. A tired, but satisfied smile, stretched across his face. He lowered his color palette and paintbrush, ignoring the cramped muscles around his fingers.

You were worth the pain.

As Sero cleaned up his materials, he couldn’t help but feel as though he was being watched. The back of his hair stood up as he twiddled a dirty rag. Sero gazed at the painting. Everything about the portrait was spectacular and impressively realistic despite being a figment of his imagination. You weren’t real. So why did he feel nervous as your eyes followed him out the door?

Sero shook his head. The paint was making him see things. Besides, it was also late, and his strained eyes needed to rest. He passed out the moment his head hit the pillow. Sero expected to see you again in his dreams, and he waited. But tonight, you did not come.

A loud knock woke Sero up.

He hissed as the morning sun blinded his eyes. Another knock banged on the door, and Sero tossed the bed covers aside. Who wanted to see him so early in the day? Sero groaned, shuffling his feet down the hall. He answered the door with disheveled hair and yesterday’s clothes on his back. In hindsight, Sero should have made himself more presentable.

Only who would have guessed the person knocking on his door was you—the muse that lived in his dreams. Sero stumbled forward, grabbing the doorframe for support. Was he still dreaming? If he was, everything felt too real. Sero didn’t know whether or not to close his agape mouth, and you giggled.

“Hi, there!” Sero was taken aback by the sound of your voice. His breath hitched, and you tilted your head as though everything was normal. You bowed politely while sharing your name. “Sorry if I woke you up so early! I’m the new neighbor living down the hall. I forgot to introduce myself after moving in yesterday.”

“I-It’s f-fine.”

That was a lie, and Sero knew it. The young artist was in awe as he took in your overwhelming presence. You were more stunning in the flesh than in his imagination and artistic piece combined. His heart pounded as he studied your facial features. Everything was the same—your adorable nose, your lively eyes, and your radiant smile. They were the same ones he painted for hours until they looked perfect. Sero was sure he saw the brush strokes peeking through your skin.

“Hey, you okay?” Sero nearly laughed; he didn’t know where to begin with that question. You inched dangerously close to his face with a raised eyebrow. “You look a little pale, almost as if you saw a ghost or something.”

“I, ah, slept late last night,” he wheezed out, his chest squeezing itself tight. There was no way you were real. Sero swallowed a thick gulp. “I was, um, just working on—”

“An art piece?” Now that sent a shiver down Sero’s spine. You chuckled, dismissing the surprised look in eyes. “You’re covered in paint, silly!”

Sero relaxed slightly. “Oh, right…”

“Well, does this cute artist have a name?”

“I’m Sero Hanta, sorry about that,” he rubbed the back of his neck. You hummed, as though you already knew his name. A cheeky grin crept on your face. It was at that moment Sero noticed a playful gleam flash across your eyes. He knew because he painted that exact expression until his fingers became numb. But you weren’t real.

“Oh no worries,” you stood up straight, carrying an air of mystery. Your allure reeled Sero in like a siren beckoning a ship full of fishermen lost at sea. “I’m glad we finally had the chance to meet. Maybe we can talk some more, say this afternoon at a nearby café? You can even show me around the neighborhood. I’ve been meaning to stretch my legs after unpacking all day yesterday.”

“S-sure.”

“Perfect.”

On the surface, your smile was innocent. However, Sero picked up the subtle slyness hiding underneath. He knew because, like your eyes, he painted those exact lips. Sero’s hand twitched as he watched you saunter away. Seconds later, he slammed the door and rushed down the hall to his art studio.

Sero barged into the room with his chest heaving uncontrollably. Sweat beads rolled down his neck, and he felt oddly hot in his wrinkly clothes. The color on his face drained as he stumbled closer to the canvas. Raggedy breaths filled the room, shocked eyes growing wider with every step he took toward the art piece.

You were gone; only the background remained inside the canvas. Sero circled the easel, trying to make sense of what was happening. One hand pushed his hair up in distress. All the signs were pointing to one thing, and he refused to believe it. You weren’t real; you were just muse from his dreams. Just a beautiful face that teased him every night and Sero painted you to admire your beauty with his own eyes.

Sero shook his head, denying everything. He struggled to stay sane and believed he was still dreaming. Any minute now, he will wake up, and your portrait will be there to greet his eyes. Sero mumbled under his breath to calm down. The artist glanced at the canvas only to do a quick double-take.

Both legs caved under the immense weight that dropped on his shoulders. Sero crawled to the canvas, his throat going dry. One finger hovered above the lower righthand corner with words written in charcoal pencil that read:

Thanks for painting me!

Sero brought his vision to life…literally.

Thank you for reading!

#sero hanta x reader #sero x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #sero hanta

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delos-mio · 3 years

Text

First Thing To Go - DAY 1

DAY 1

Around dinner time and with a complimentary drink in hand, you took the elevator to the top floor. The Oceanfront Suite at the Four Seasons Maui awaited you and Kendra- two full weeks of what was supposed to be romance and relaxation. Now it seemed you wouldn’t be experiencing either. You made it to the grand white double doors of the suite and let yourselves in.

The suite was enormous with a living and dining room, doors off to the side that led to a master bedroom with a canopied California king bed. The en suite had a jacuzzi with crisp, white his and her robes hanging beside it. Your mouth downturned and you quickly spun on your heel, eager to look at anything else.

“Holy shit,” Kendra said with a whistle. “You guys were really gonna ball out.”

“Were,” you muttered and tossed your bag aside.

“Sorry.” Her eyes were down before she turned to investigate the suite further. You shouldn’t have been so defensive, especially toward the one person who dropped everything to be there for you. But you couldn’t help the turning of the knife in your chest every time you were reminded of why you were originally supposed to be here.

The room was ridiculous. There was a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon waiting for you with a card from the hotel. You flipped it open and read the obnoxious calligraphy inside:

Congratulations, Mr and Mrs Langford! From, your friends at the Four Seasons

Great. You really should have seen it coming by now. The hotel was under the impression this was your honeymoon, after all.

“This balcony is sick!” You looked up and saw Kendra leaning on the glass wall, face turned up to the sun. You tossed the stupid card in the trash can on your way to join her. She was right- the view was absolutely breathtaking. There was pristine sand and cerulean ocean as far as the eye could see, the smell of salt and tropical flowers heavy in the air. You took a deep breath and stood next to Kendra.

“I’m sorry for being shitty to you,” you said softly.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I get it.” She nudged you with her shoulder. “But I hope you do realize I’m not going to let you mope while we’re somewhere this fucking beautiful.”

You laughed and nodded in silent acquiescence.

“Can I make a suggestion for our first order of business?” you asked with a playful turn of your lips. Kendra looked over with a raised eyebrow, urging you to go on. “I brought my medical card. Find a dispensary and order room service?”

“Ugh, so brilliant. Such a smart and thoughtful woman,” Kendra said, flashing you a devilish grin.

—-

It hadn’t taken much work to find a provisioning center near the hotel. You and Kendra made quick work of the trip and returned to the suite, ordering enough food to clean out the kitchen. The sun was long since down and you were laid out in the sun loungers on the balcony, pleasantly high with a belly full of food, just looking up at the sky with Kendra.

“It’s nice to see them for once,” you said.

“Hmm?”

“The stars. Don’t really get to see much of them back home. Only if you go out over the lake.”

“Yeah, it’s really relaxing,” she agreed before letting out a long yawn. “I’m sleepy. I’m gonna go lay down- you staying out here?”

“Just for a little bit longer.” Kendra looked at you as she stood up, biting her lip with uncertainty. “I’m not going to jump if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She laughed as she leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Just making sure. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night.” And with that, Kendra shut the balcony doors behind her, leaving you alone with the ocean breeze and half a blunt.

The world was quiet out here- nothing like the constant roar of the city. Lake View was a wonderful neighborhood and one you loved dearly. But there was something about only being able to listen to the breeze rustling palm leaves that put you at ease. You didn’t really consider yourself a beach kind of gal, but perhaps you could see yourself becoming one. After the last 72 or so hours, a little quiet felt pretty good. Serene, even. Maybe Kendra really was onto something when she begged you to come out here.

You lit the end and took another deep hit before closing your eyes and exhaling.

“Ah, one of my favorite smells.” Your eyes snapped open and you gasped, totally unaware that anyone else was anywhere near you. You clumsily tried to snuff out the blunt, knocking over the ashtray onto the marble floor with a loud crack. “Oh shit,” you coughed and looked around trying to find the voice that had just spoken.

“No need to stop on my accord.” The voice was deep and smooth, sultry even. There was a good chance you just made a total fool out of yourself while fumbling around in your inebriated state. You were still anxiously looking about when he added “On your left, darling.”

You spun and finally saw a feline smile on the face of a tall, undeniably gorgeous man standing on the balcony next to yours. He was tall and lean, all dark hair, beard, and eyes. Truthfully, he was textbook ‘your type’. But the minute that thought ran through your brain, you were already mentally berating yourself for even finding another person attractive just a day into what was supposed to be your honeymoon. He took a swig from a rocks glass and cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about the smell traveling,” you said sheepishly.

“Like I said, one of my favorite smells.” Like a good neighbor, you walked to the railing closest to him and offered out the blunt to him. ��Sorry,” he said, raising a hand. Fuck, even his fingers were beautiful. “I’m down to only liquid vices these days, I’m afraid,” shaking around the ice in his glass for emphasis.

“Ok…” You weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but didn’t think it was appropriate to press a stranger for details.

“I’m Logan, nice to meet you,” he said and stuck out his hand far enough that you could just barely brush the tips of your fingers against his as you introduced yourself. It was a completely awkward gesture, which seemed to greatly amuse Logan.

“Likewise.” You put your feet back on solid ground and looked at Logan again.

“So, are you here in a suite by yourself or is there a mister or missus with you?”

“Real smooth,” you laughed.

“It’s just a question,” he said, tone laced with faux innocence.

You stopped short and considered dumping everything that happened on him right then. “I’m here with my best friend, actually,” you said tersely.

Logan narrowed his gaze as he looked you over. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I literally don’t know you, so yeah,” you laughed, trying hard to keep it casual.

“Maybe that’s true,” he shrugged, “But it’s written all over your face. It’s ok if you don’t want to tell me.” He took another drink. “I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

“Ok, lay it on me,” you said, almost baiting Logan, and leaned on the railing with your chin resting in your palm.

“I checked out of a rehab in Malibu last night. My shrink told me it’d be better for me if I slowly worked my way back into the real world and suggested I take a little to myself before getting back to work and my family. Life in general, I guess,” he shrugged.

You didn’t know the man, that was certain, but you didn’t expect him to say that. Or to be so honest. You were really starting to feel bad for getting high right next door to him. “Wow, I...I’m so sorry for smoking next to you.”

Logan just laughed and waved you off. “You have nothing to apologize for, darling. Besides, you literally didn’t know me, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him quoting your own words back at you. “Very funny.” You looked down for a minute before taking a long breath and exhaling. “And how’s the ‘time for yourself’ thing going? Is it scary,” you asked.

“So far, so good,” Logan said, clearly considering how it was actually going. “I’ve been clean for 94 days now, so my cravings aren’t as strong. I mean, I still want to use, don’t get me wrong. But it’s nowhere near as intense. And what’s not to like about being in paradise?” He was grinning, despite the weight of what he just told you. It was admirable, you thought.

“This was supposed to be my honeymoon,” you said abruptly. Why you decided to tell this stranger, you didn’t really know. But it felt like it would be ok to share it with Logan. Besides, you’d probably never see the dude again- who cares if he knew?

“Pardon me?”

“This,” you gestured broadly at your balcony and room, “I’m supposed to be enjoying my honeymoon right now. But as I already told you, I’m here with my best friend. Like, my actual best friend. Not the ‘oh I’m so glad I’m marrying my best friend’ best friend. And not a husband. Don’t have one of those.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” he said with a small frown.

“He packed up all his things, told me there was someone else, and left me two days before our wedding.” You let out a sad chuckle, using all your might to fight back the tears you knew wanted to form in your eyes. “So, yeah. Guess we’re both kind of bummers, huh?”

“For what it’s worth,” Logan started, leaning in closer over his ledge, “I think the guy’s a fucking douche bag for leaving you. I know we don’t know each other very well, but you seem delightful. Not to mention you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“You’re seriously going to hit on me when I just told you I was supposed to get married yesterday?” you scoffed.

“What am I supposed to say?” he asked, raising a perfect eyebrow and checking you out from head to toe. “If I see a beautiful woman, I think it’s my duty to share that with her.”

“You’re shameless,” you smiled and shook your head. It should have disgusted you. It should have turned you off and made you think Logan was a pig. But you couldn’t help but be just the smallest bit charmed. He was a flirt, and there was a little piece of you that was genuinely flattered.

“I’ve been called worse,” he laughed.

“Well, thanks, I guess,” you said before looking back out over the ocean, hoping to hide the heat that was rising in your cheeks.

“My pleasure,” Logan said with a smile. “So, the asshole left you high and dry and you went on your honeymoon with your best friend anyways?”

“To be fair, it was her idea.” You tugged at the ends of your hair, suddenly nervous that Logan would judge you.

“I like her style.” He finished off his drink. “I can’t imagine there’s anyone else who deserves to be stoned in Hawaii more than you,” Logan grinned.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groaned. “So fucking embarrassing.”

“Nah. It’s cute. You’re cute.” His voice was low and gravely, but playful. You felt a stirring in your stomach and knew you had to cut the conversation short while you were still ahead.

“It’s late, I should probably go to bed before Kendra thinks I’ve done something stupid.” You meant for it to be a joke, but you realized you really didn’t want to worry her more than you knew she already did.

“Wouldn’t want that,” he nodded.

“It was nice talking to you. Thanks for letting me dump all my baggage on you,” you said, a tiny smile forming on your lips.

“Any time, darling.”

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” As you said it, you realized you really hoped you would.

“I sure hope so,” he said with a smirk.

“Goodnight, Logan.” You bit gently on your bottom lip and finally pushed away from the railing.

“Sweet dreams.”

You let yourself back inside and quickly got ready for bed. Talking to someone removed from the whole ordeal felt nice- someone who didn’t ask a million questions so you could just process what happened in its simplest terms. And Logan had proven to be thoughtful and a good listener. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Logan was ungodly hot. No, you scolded yourself. No thinking about Logan or anyone else like that for a long, long time. Once you’d crawled under the covers, you couldn’t stop the weight of sleep tugging at your eyelids, bringing with it dreams of a dark eyed prince.

TAGGED: @fific7 @abroadcastofthemind @suchatinyinfinity

#logan #logan delos #logan x reader #logan delos x reader #ben barnes #westworld #logan westworld #logan fanfic #logan delos fanfic #westworld fanfic #ben barnes character fic #fttg #masterlist

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quarantined-with-bucky · 4 years

Text

I Was Good To You

Bucky x Reader

Words: ~ 4,000 (lol sorry)

Summary: You were good to Bucky

Warnings: Angst

A/N: I really love the song “you were good to me” by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler (actually they have a lot of good songs, together and separately). But I felt like this song needs to be read from the opposite perspective literally every time I hear it, hence this fic. It’s a little different than what I have written so far, so I hope you still enjoy it! I put some of the original lyrics in the fic as quote-block format; it’s mostly in the reader’s POV and I’m sorry in advance for having to do Bucky like this – it just fits the song.

...

It was a fairly new relationship. And while you and he were both equally cautious about taking said new relationship too fast, it couldn’t be helped that the two of you were inseparable. From the day you met, he had been invested in you – your life. He claims it was because he was frozen for so long; because he didn’t know how to live “normally” in the twenty-first century. He went from World War II to Hydra to today. While that made perfect sense to you, a part of you always wondered if it was something more. Sure, Bucky had never had the chance to (and likely will never the chance to) live mundanely. He won’t ever work a 9 to 5 job, he won’t spend nights cooking and washing dishes, he won’t be doing lawn maintenance, working on a dingey car, or grocery shopping (and then forgetting your grocery list at home). You thought that he may have attached himself so quickly to you so he could partly experience the normalcy of civilian life. Not that you were complaining.

He often spent nights at your house, sleeping in your too-small bed, sitting on your countertop, and lounging on your loveseat. Waking up next to him was heaven. If you weren’t securely wrapped in his arms, head laying on his bulky torso, then he was using your chest as a pillow, the weight of him almost making it impossible to breathe. But that extra weight was calming; he may have even been the weighted blanket that has been sitting in your Amazon cart for well over four months. You’d wake up from an uninterrupted night of bliss, fingers running through his long hair, Bucky refusing to get up until you promised pancakes.

But then, three months into it, he left. Its not like he had a choice, you reminded yourself, its his job. And you were well aware of it – he made you aware of it. He told you he would be gone for three weeks. And that’s fine; you could spare less than a month of your life for the good of the rest of the world? It felt almost selfish to think that way. He wasn’t yours; he had to save the world, he belonged to the world – to himself.

So, you tried to keep yourself busy to distract yourself. But there really wasn’t much to do; hobbies you once enjoyed felt exhaustive and boring. The issue is you used to do everything with him: eat, work, eat, shower, sleep. Now it’s eat alone, work alone, eat alone, shower alone, sleep alone; each task a glaring reminder how desolate it was.

Floating, but I feel like I’m dying

Your routine felt like nothing – it just felt empty, the way that it lacked conversation, playfulness, fun, it lacked him. Nothing, in fact, felt real. You walked around the neighborhood and it felt like a fever dream, like you were gliding along the sidewalks. Not a single thought roamed through your mind, just the absence of what used to be. The days always went by painstakingly slow, but every Friday night you wondered how the week had gone by so quickly.

Your friends invited you out on the weekend, and while you mostly said no, they made sure to drag you out a couple times. The company was honestly welcome, it just felt like an empty effort to get dressed up and go to the bar when you really would rather be there (or home – in bed) with someone else. But by the time your friends got you in a routine to go out, Bucky came back home to you.

Months went by while the two of you were attached at the hip, smiles never leaving either of your mouths.

You woke up one morning to a heavy figure sprawled across half of your naked body. Yawning and trying your best to inhale a breath with his chest laying directly on top of yours, you flexed your arms and legs straight out, cracking a few joints that had been overused just a few hours ago. Bucky’s eyes popped open, his blue iris’s peering into your own. He rubbed an eye-booger away with the palm of his hand and started off the morning with “I have to leave tonight.”

You were confused and you knew he could read it on your face. “No good morning?” You joked haphazardly, trying your best not to blurt out every thought racing across your mind at that moment – the main one being what the fuck?

“’M sorry, baby,” he mumbled, still half asleep, pushing his face into the corner of your neck, planting a wet kiss to your shoulder, then your collarbone, then your jaw.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone for?” Your fingers traced up and down his back, nicking on the scratches you left last night; nearly healed but you knew they were there.

He hummed and lifted his head to press a kiss to your lips. “Couple weeks.” Another kiss. “I’m not sure.” That being said, you didn’t bring it up again. It was better to spend the day binging pancakes and watching movies in bed than discussing it any further.

I know it’s easier to run

After everything I’ve done

It was finally time for him to leave. After all your distraction kisses didn’t work. As soon as the clock hit 8:00 pm, he stood, despite you feigning sleep beside him. He leaned over you on the bed and held a head to your cheek, then pushed the hair from your face. You opened your eyes, holding his hand in yours. He stood there for a moment that felt like an eternity, just watching each other with sad eyes. “I wish I could stay,” he murmured.

You nodded, unable to find your voice. As he straightened back up, you stood next to him, pulling a shirt on and following him to the door. After opening the door, he cupped your face with both his hands and pulled you close to him. “See you soon, okay, doll?” If this was his best reassurance tactic, it wasn’t very good. You met his mouth in an open-mouthed kiss, tongues swiping over each other, exchanging the words you couldn’t find earlier. Slowly, he kissed you back, releasing a long breath as he pulled away.

And then you did it.

“I love you.”

And then you regretted it.

He stared back at you, eyes scanning over the whole of your face: faltering smile, eyebrows drawn together, eyes suddenly glazed with worry.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

He turned and shut the door without looking back or saying another word. He really left. He really ran away.

Tears welled up into your eyes. Like that morning, the only thought you could process: what the fuck? albeit, this time, it was a little angrier than before. What did that mean? You immediately assumed he was done with you. But the more you laid on your bed, sobbing your eyes out into your pillow, the more that didn’t make sense. There’s no way he wanted to breakup with you – he was so happy before he left. Maybe he just didn’t love you? Maybe he loved you but he just wasn’t ready to say it? And honestly, knowing Bucky, it was most likely the last option. He enjoyed spending every waking moment with you doing the most absolute boring tasks; you don’t just suffer like that if you don’t love that person.

Then again, despite agreeing to take this relationship slow, he surely did not have a problem basically moving into your house and sleeping with you (which you would’ve assumed to be a much greater step than saying “I love you,” considering he was from 1917 where usually the order is reversed).

All that worrying seemed to be in vain. He returned to you no later than 13 days after.

You pulled open to your front door only to find a sheepish-looking Bucky on the other side. His hands were tucked into his pockets, shoulders shrugged unusually high as he stared directly at the ground. But as soon as that door swung open and he saw you standing bewildered on the other side, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off the ground against his chest. He hummed softly into your collarbone, “I missed you.”

And suddenly your heart began beating out of your chest. You hands found his hair and you gently untangled the knots, while you shut your eyes and breathed in his earthy scent. So, you’d been right: Bucky was just weird. You didn’t want to relive that scene from two weeks ago, instead opting to relax in his arms. “I missed you, too.”

Growing, but I’m just growing tired

Now I’m worried for my soul

And I’m still scared of growing old

As time went on, him leaving became more frequent. You couldn’t help the fact that they were getting a lot of new leads. Honestly, you couldn’t be more grateful to have Bucky. Not only is he the light of your life, but invariantly the same for everyone else in the world. His job was to protect people and you couldn’t imagine the world if he wasn’t off doing what he did so well. But they became more frequent and longer. Lately, it had felt like the two of you had spent more time apart than together.

Laying on the couch, his cheek resting atop of your chest, his torso and hips nestled between your legs, you broke the calm silence. “So next Friday’s my birthday,” you mumbled.

He chuckles in response, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Is this your way of reminding me to get you a gift? Because don’t worry, doll, I already got you something.” He winked and set his cheek back to his original position, softly shutting his eyes as you curled a lock of his hair around your finger.

“No,” you giggle back, rolling your eyes to yourself. “I want to take a trip. I think we should get away for the weekend.” You released the strand of hair, instead running your hand over the back of his neck. “What do you think?”

He sits up immediately, no disregard for your hands, and shakes his head. “(Y/N), you know that I can’t. What if they need me and I’m not here?”

You bite your lip, quickly searching for something to say. And what you blurt out actually happens to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever said. “Aren’t there like a million Avengers? I think you can take one weekend off.”

Now he rolls his eyes and scoffs. “(Y/N), you can’t be serious. You know it doesn’t work like that.” And at this point, you’re not sure if he’s talking about the Avengers not working like that or if your relationship doesn’t work like that – after all, he still never said “I love you” back. Not when he came home that time, not when he left for the next mission, not for your one-year anniversary, and not after the fact he realized that date occurred while he was away on work.

“I know, but – ”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts, his tone harsh. “But no.” The way his jaw sets and eyes narrow at you doesn’t make you think he’s very sorry.

Staring back at him, you nod, getting up from the couch before he can see the tears well up in your eyes (for the record, he saw them). “I’m tired, Buck. Goodnight.” And with that, you scurried off to your bedroom. You locked the door and fell onto the bed, silently letting the tears fall down your cheeks. You buried your face into your pillow, throwing his against the wall, the smell of your bed – that smelled like him – pissing you off beyond belief.

Was this going to be your life? Constantly leaving, never saying “I love you” when everything he does clearly shows that he’s in love with you. There as a point in your life when you thought men were confusing. But, damn, James Barnes is a whole new story.

He clearly got the message that he’d be sleeping on the couch that night. He didn’t disturb you for the rest of the night – he didn’t even try. Could he hear you sobbing in your room? You could only assume yes. But that clearly didn’t make a difference to him.

But that’s okay. You’ve learned how to console yourself, how to calm yourself down during a panic attack, how to make the tears stop on your own.

That would become your reality. Would that be your future? Bucky talked about the future – quite a lot, actually, especially for being the one who won’t say “I love you.” He wanted to settle down, he wanted the future that was taken away from him years ago: to eventually settle down, raise little babies, grow old with you. He surely liked to talk about it, but never show it. There had to be some way he could ask Steve to take a weekend off. If he was reluctant to do it now, would he ever? Or would you just live in the shadows of his life, tying down the house alone, raising babies alone, growing old alone.

The next morning, you woke up to Bucky next to you in bed. He stroked your hair until you opened your eyes (that you could only assumed were swollen and red). He had apologized for the night before, pleaded for you to understand, and even gave you your birthday gift early. While you decided to forgive him, for the sake of the universe, you still couldn’t bury the hatchet completely. You weren’t going to show it, but what you were thinking about was important, and dammit you were justified in asking yourself those questions. (Even more justified to ask him those questions, but it was just never the right time).

And I’m so used to letting go

But I don’t want to be alone

One day, months later, your grandfather had passed away. It came as quite a shock, and it took you a few hours to even process the fact that he was gone. You’d been through countless calls with other family members and friends checking in on you. And while everyone meant well, every call resulted with you in a rush to hang-up, falling into a fit of sobs as you ended each call.

He had basically raised you since you were born and the fact that he had been ripped away from you so suddenly had burned you even more. Despite how sad you were, however, you had to be glad that you were able to fall apart in Bucky’s arms. Holding you tightly, reassuring you yet never telling you you’re overreacting. As someone who had been around loss his whole life, he definitely understood and thought it best to let you express your feelings earnestly.

That’s why, when Steve Rogers called his phone later that night, you couldn’t help but express your feelings very earnestly.

“Bucky, no, you’re not going.” You were sitting up in bed, in the middle of the night, darkness swallowing the room as Bucky stood to dress, not even bothering to turn on the lamp beside him.

“(Y/N), I have to. Please, don’t make this hard, baby.” His hand reached out to touch your cheek if only for a moment before he continued to dress and gather his things.

Tears fell down your cheeks freely, your voice coming out cracked as you begged him once more. It might have been pitiful, from his eyes, you’d assume. You were only one step away from looking like a sobbing toddler making grabby hands at her favorite toy. “Please, Bucky. You can’t leave me alone right now.” A sob rips through your throat and you nearly scream. “I’m always alone. I don’t want to be alone right now.”

You’d done the research: there were at least 12 Avengers nowadays. You didn’t know who was in what galaxy, but you were positive that one of them could take his place. Its not like he even really had superpowers. He was basically an enhanced man – plus they already had one of those? Surely, he could be spared this time around.

He shakes his head but sits down to pull you in his arms. “Baby, please. You can’t do this to me.”

And it takes everything in your whole being to not scoff. Do this to him? What exactly are you doing to him? Oh, just something he does to you on the weekly basis. You swallow your tears and shove him away. You don’t know what made you pull a complete 180, but it did finally feel good to get some things off your chest that had been plaguing your mind recently. “You always leave. I’m used to it.”

He opens his mouth to speak. Nothing comes out. He watches you pull the covers over yourself and turn away from him. He closes his mouth and leaves the room.

God only knows where our fears go

Hearts I’ve broke, now my tears flow

You’ll see that I’m sorry

Cause you were good to me

It was the post-mission jitters. The remnants of the adrenaline from earlier that day still coursed through his veins as he paced back and forth around the jet, eagerly anticipating his return to you.

“What’s up yours?” Sam asks, eyes narrowed at Bucky, clearly in confusion but also in annoyance.

Bucky stops in his tracks, eyes wide, feeling as though he had been invisible for the whole plane ride. He shrugs, and as Sam raises an eyebrow, he offers an explanation: “I’ve gotta see (Y/N).”

A grin breaks out on Sam’s face. He falls back in his chair, throws a hand over his heart and pretends to faint. “Oh, you have to see your lover. I’m Bucky, I’m so in love,” he mimics in a high-pitched voice.

Where Bucky normally would threaten to beat Sam to within an inch of his life, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. He stood, staring at Sam’s hideous imitation of himself – he swears his heart stopped beating. “Yes, exactly.”

Sam chokes and stutters a “what?” before Steve interrupts them from the cockpit.

“We’re landing, guys. Buck, grab a seat.” So, Bucky does exactly what he’s told, plopping himself into the seat across from Sam, ignoring all the questions and comments from the man across from him.

God, he mentally kicks himself. It’s been almost two years. Two years you let him treat you like that. Now, while Bucky doesn’t think he’s done anything outwardly wrong and had obviously never purposely tried to hurt you, maybe he could’ve been a little better regarding work. Maybe he could’ve taken that weekend off with you.

You really consumed his whole life. His thoughts were constantly about you (mostly sweet and innocent, sometimes dirty), he constantly wanted to be by you, talking, laughing, touching.

He made up his mind before the plane even lands. The last mission is over, and new – personal – one begins.

He leaves the complex, stopping by the florist to buy the biggest bouquet of roses he can get his hands on. A grin is itching at his mouth as he anticipates your reaction during the rest of his drive. His heart is racing – in a good way. In a way he hasn’t felt in, well, forever. His confidence is at an all-time high as he’s never felt surer of himself in his life.

He’s already planned it out. You’ll open the door and he’ll scoop you up in his arms, hand you the flowers, and finally say “I love you.” He doesn’t know what took him so long anyway.

And now I’m closing every door

Cause I’m sick of wanting more

You know he didn’t get to decide when he left and for how long he’d be gone.

But he did get to decide his priorities. And honestly, you weren’t even sure if you were one of them anymore.

You were torn because you know how much his work means to him. Not only was it his calling, but it was something he thought was important to use his good work as a means to make up for all the bad things he’s done in the past. And while you’ve told him multiple times that that’s definitely not how it works, nothing will change his logic. So, you’ve stood by him; if it was important to him, it was important to you. Of course, you wanted to see your boyfriend exceed, feel fulfilled.

Now, you were just tired of seeing Bucky like that when it cost you everything. He was your everything. You had a job, yes, a home, a family. But the one person you were supposed to be with – actually be with – didn’t value you the same as his job. And thinking that to yourself just has to be the worst, most necessary wake-up call you need.

That was all you needed. You sat at your desk with a pen and a piece of paper. You couldn’t even think of an opening line for about two hours. Sitting there, chewing the inside of your cheek, you wrote countless paragraphs, scrapping some, keeping others, adjusting sentences, trying not to sound too mean – then having to start over because your teardrops fell onto the paper and smudged the ink.

All in all, it took you two days to write him the note – note turned letter. You folded it in three, left it on his pillow. As you placed it down, you broke out in tears. Falling to your knees, you shoved your face into the mattress, wailing into the sheets one last time. It remarkably still smelled of Bucky’s soap; probably just god handing you one more gut-wrenching blow.

You’d spent the night on the couch, unable to bear the sight of that letter or the smell of those blankets. The next morning, you tried to keep your head as clear as possible. No breakfast (no more pancakes with Bucky), no music (no reminders of your song), no phone (no messages from Bucky). It was time to leave. Time to leave this house, this life, this relationship. You’d quickly shoved a few bags full of clothes and necessities and threw them in the back of your car, not looking back. Just like he did after you’d told him you loved him.

Swear I’m different than before

I won’t hurt you anymore

Cause you were good to me

He practically skips up the steps. Knocking first, he rocks up and down on his tip-toes unable to contain his excitement anymore. Not getting an immediate response, he knocks again.

It would make sense that you weren’t home if it was work hours, but it was 7:00 pm. Bucky was thrown-off; you’d be at home eating dinner right now. Chalking it off to maybe you were in the bathtub, he digs around in his pocket for the key. Pushing the door open, he cautiously looks around the kitchen, then the dining room and living room, unable to find you. The bathroom was empty, and you hadn’t responded to him calling your name, echoing throughout the house.

He pulled out his phone while carefully kicking the bedroom door open with his foot. Straight to voicemail. Voicemailbox full. He tosses the roses beside him on the bed and sits on the edge, nearly ready to go searching again before a piece of paper catches his eye.

His heart drops.

It sinks.

There’s not a time in his whole one-hundred-year existence that he’d felt this much anticipation and fear.

He grabs the letter with shaking hands, carefully unfolding it and his eyes are fixated on the date you’d scribbled at the top of the page. Two months ago.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #fanfiction #angst #bucky barnes angst #captain america #bucky x you #bucky fanfic

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wingedchildqueen · 4 years

Text

Thunderstorm Kisses

Well my god. I wrote this five years ago, under my old tumblr account that I deleted by mistake and thought I had lost it forever, as I had also lost the laptop I typed it on. I suddenly remembered the name of it and took a chance searching it up and what do you know. Tumblr aint completely useless. The post still exists even though the account is dead. This is a dead fandom, I’m quite aware but I’m posting it here for documentation sake and for any lucaya fans who may be still floating around on this god forsaken platform. Much love and happy reading. P.S My writing has gotten better since this was written (God I hope) lol but I have not edited or altered anything because I think my 18 year old self's writing style should be left as it is for the sentimentality of it all. Warning: This is so cringy, cheesy and teeny boppy (if that's a thing) eeekk

He’d always wondered what she tasted like. If her kisses would be as electric as the thunderstorm in her eyes. He knew it was wrong to have these thoughts when he had been in a relationship with her best friend for almost two years, and he loved Riley, he really did. But when this girl was always in his face , challenging him, teasing him and threatening him relentlessly, all he could do was stare down at this raging blond fury, and over time he happened to notice that she had the pinkest lips he had ever seen, almost perfectly shaped, with a permanent smirk that was always directed at him and he began to wonder what they tasted like.

He would catch himself thinking about her at the most random times. Strawberry lips and sunshine hair would flood his mind and afterwards he would hate himself for it because he knew he should be thinking about warm chocolate eyes and chestnut hair, but it was hard to do that when a sea of electric blue always invaded and washed away these thoughts.

After almost two years of letting her verbally and physically abuse him, he had finally begun to fight back. Not because he was sick of it, or because he wanted to hurt her, but because he knew she liked when he did, and he would do anything to see that fire in her eyes intensify. The first time he had actually fought back, by responding to one of her verbal jabs with a very clever remark in his opinion, her eyebrows had shot up in surprise and he was not sure if he should stay or run from her wrath, but surprisingly she had smiled. Though, he could not have been sure, because it had only lasted for an instant, until her face fell back to its usual smirk and she proceeded to call him one of her ever creative names in response. He noticed that she smiled a lot, especially with Riley, but he also noticed that a lot of her smiles were always a little too hard, or with a little too much teeth and they never really reached her eyes. He had never seen someone so committed to assuring the happiness of their best friend. She would sell her soul for Riley. Riley’s happiness was Maya’s occupation and he wished that she realized her happiness was important too and sometimes he would want so badly to tell her she was worth everything and more, and she deserved the world but he could not do that. They would be no windowsill conversations between them, no heart to hearts because he was Ranger Rick and she was his girlfriend’s best friend. And that was that.

He found her crying one time, underneath a staircase at school. He had never seen her cry before. The school was nearly empty and Riley had had cheerleading practice. He was not sure what to do at first, if he should just walk away and call Riley, but then a sob came from her that nearly broke his heart, and never in his life had he felt such a need to fix someone. She sat in the corner of the staircase, her knees drawn to her chest and her face in her hands, her hair cascading down her shoulders. Her shoulders shook and his insides hurt. He didn’t think she knew anyone was looking at her so he called her name. She remained in the same position and he called her name again. No response. She had to have heard him. She probably thought if she didn’t acknowledge him he would eventually go away but he refused to do anything of that sort. Without a second thought, he walked towards her tiny figure and slid down the wall next to her. He felt her body tense and then put his arm around her, pulling her into him. She lay stiff in his arms but he held on. After a few minutes he felt her finally relax against him and her head fell heavily against his shoulder. Her sobs had subsided but she still shook a little. His grip tightened and he rested his head against hers. Never did someone fit so perfectly in his arms. He heard her sigh, a sigh that sounded like it was filled with so much world weariness. They never spoke of it afterwards, it was as if it had never happened and though she had never told him to, he knew he was not supposed to tell Riley that he had found her crying. It was an unspoken agreement. The only acknowledgment that he got that had proven what had happened had not been a figment of his imagination was when the very next day their eyes had locked briefly across their lunch table with Riley and Farkle in the cafeteria and she had given him a small smile. Of gratitude? He couldn’t be sure but he thinks it was probably the most genuine smile he had ever seen on her face, even though her lips had only slightly turned upwards, but no matter how small, it had gotten to her sea glass eyes.

He could feel there dynamic slowly changing. He wasn’t sure he could say they were becoming friendlier with each other but they were becoming…something more than just two teenagers who tolerated each other for the sake of a mutual friend. They no longer needed Riley to be there to feel comfortable in each other’s presence. One day, all four of them, him, Riley, Farkle and Maya, were supposed to meet at “Topanga’s” to hang out but it had just ended up being the two of them as Farkle had ditched them to hang out with the AV club and Riley had to babysit Auggie at the last minute. He would have thought that Maya would have left to go and help Riley with Auggie but surprisingly she had stayed and it was then he had found out that she was a really good listener. Sitting opposite each other in one of the booths, with her hands clasped together on top of the table she listened as he told her about Texas sunsets, and how beautiful the horses looked when they ran together in the fields and how he had always woke up at five every morning to do things around his grandparents farm. He told her how much he missed his old home and his family and how sometimes New York could be so suffocating with all its skyscraper buildings and millions of people. Not once did she call him a name or interrupt him as he told her, she just listened. At the end of it, it was silent for a moment and she just stared at him with her piercing eyes, as if she was searching for something in him. After a moment she leaned back and said to him,

“ Even though here might not feel like home, always remember that we will always be your family, no matter what.” She told him this without her gaze ever wavering from his face and he thinks that that was the moment he started to fall in love with her.

He began to walk her home nearly every day after school especially on the days when they all hung out till dark. The first time he did, he realized how far she lived from Riley’s house, nearly five blocks and her neighborhood was not exactly the safest, especially in the night. The first few times she fussed about it and told him it wasn’t necessary but eventually she realized she could not convince him otherwise and it became a pattern. No matter how much she claimed she could take care of herself he always noticed how she would draw nearer to him whenever they walked passed a dark ally or she received a random catcall from a pedestrian across the street. In those moments it would take everything he had within him to prevent himself from enclosing her hand in his just to assure her that he was right here beside her, that nothing in hell could hurt her with him here. In those walks he found out a lot about her. That her mom changed jobs all the time and worked triple shifts and sometimes days would go by without her seeing her. He learned that her sick grandmother lived with them and that she tried to get home as soon as possible to make her dinner and watch tv with her. He got the impression that aside from Riley, her Grandma was her best friend. Her eyes always lit up when she spoke of her.

One day after almost six months of walking her home, she finally invited him inside. He could see how nervous she was as she fumbled open the door of the apartment. “It’s not much,” she had mumbled to him and he had told her he didn’t care if she lived in a box on the worst alley in New York. She laughed at that and he saw her relax a little. Her laugh was like a drug to him, and like any addict, whenever he rarely evoked one from her, he found himself on this high. She introduced him to her grandmother who hugged him with a grip so fierce it startled him. He could have seen that she had been beautiful when she was younger. He now knew where Maya had gotten her looks from. Her grandmother had held his hand while sitting on her rocking chair and studied him for a significant amount of time, with eyes very similar to Maya’s. She then turned to Maya and announced that it was abnormal for a boy to have such a beautiful face. He laughed and then heard Maya scoff behind him. He turned to her and winked and she rolled her eyes. She walked towards the small kitchen and he swore he glimpsed a smile that she tried to hide behind her hair. He helped her make dinner, despite her refusal, and though it was only Mac and cheese, it was probably the best meal he had ever had as he ate next to her on the couch in the living room, opposite her grandmother as they watched some Spanish soap opera with no english subtitles. Though he had no idea what they were saying he laughed along with Maya and her grandmother and he thinks this was the happiest he had ever seen her. Afterwards he stood next to her in the kitchen by the sink as she washed the dishes and he dried and in that moment he felt like this was something he would like to do for the rest of his life, not just wash dishes, but just stand next to her, unconsciously bumping shoulders, and brushing fingers, as she passed the dishes to him, that sent shivers down his spine.

He helped her make dinner at least three times a week and her grandmother loved him. She would pass him worried looks whenever her grandma barely touched her food, which was most nights, and he would fix the antenna on the television on the nights they tended to get a lot of static. He looked forward to these nights, more than anything else and though she would never admit it, he didn’t know how grateful Maya was for him coming. He made her nights less lonely.

One night, just after they had washed the dishes, they heard thunder rumble outside and in a few minutes there was a full out storm raging outside. They stood by the window and watched as lightning streaked the sky outside. He felt her turn her head to watch him and he met her gaze. She shrugged her shoulders and turned on her heel, heading for her room. How he knew that that was her way of giving him permission to stay the night? He wasn’t sure, but at some point they had begun to understand each other without the use of words. He stood still for a moment and eventually followed her into the room where she had already thrown a sheet and pillow on the floor for him. He told her that he could sleep on the couch but she just shook head, mumbling something about her grandma groaning in the night and he would never get any sleep on the couch.

Later on, they lay in the dark, with him on the floor and Maya on her bed. They lay in silence and he listened to her breathing and thought of a lot of things. He thought of Riley, innocent Riley, who was probably sleeping and he felt guilty because she was so kind, and beautiful and loving and he didn’t deserve any of it as he lay on the floor of her best friend’s bedroom, her best friend who he was falling in love with one Spanish soap opera at a time. And then he thought of Maya, and everything she was, and how brightly she burned in this black and white life she did not deserve and how underneath the entire tough façade she put on at school she was just a girl trying to hold it all together the best that she could with a sick grandmother and an almost absent mother and he thought of how he so much wanted to give her a life she deserved.

He heard ruffling of sheets and then the thudding of feet landing on the floor and the next thing he knew she was lying next to him. There was absolutely no physical contact, and they both just lay there, staring at the ceiling and he could feel her warmth, so close to him, part of her hair, which was fanned out on the floor tickled his neck. He turned on his side to look at her and she mirrored him and they both lay staring at each other intently. He fell asleep drowning in a sea of blue.

They didn’t talk about how the next morning they woke up wrapped up in each other, feet intertwined and his arms around her and her face in his neck. They didn’t talk about how they lay there for a few moments, without moving, even though they both were already awake and should have long detangled. Those things remained unspoken.

He could feel Riley beginning to suspect something. Innocent Riley who should not have to suspect these kinds of things. He wasn’t sure exactly what had made her aware of it, maybe it was the lingering glances between him and Maya in the cafeteria or the fact that Maya taunted him less and less these days or that he and Maya stood a little too close to each other by the lockers. She could feel her eyes on him at certain times, especially when they hung out together as a group and he couldn’t help but feel terrible. It wasn’t as if they had kissed or anything but he could feel Riley’s eyes burning into him and feared that she could see into his mind and see exactly what he was thinking. Maya, Maya, Maya.

He knew Maya could feel her suspicion too and they cut down his number of visits to once a week as much as he hated it. It wasn’t as if they were doing anything wrong even though, in reality they really were.

One afternoon, both him and Maya stood at Riley’s locker waiting for her to finish cheerleading practice. They had begun to laugh about something, something entirely stupid but it had him gasping for breath as he laughed and she bent over holding her stomach. They were a mess, even though whatever it was had not even been that funny. He steadied her from toppling over with laughter and she leaned against him heavily. Eventually they calmed down, leaning against the lockers with their shoulders pressed against each other. He looked at her, her hair an absolute mess and laughed, gently pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear and smoothing down the rest with his two hands. She smiled as he did this and suddenly there faces were so close to each other and he could feel her breath on his face with the scent of peppermint and she was so close and so warm and……

He heard someone clearing their throat and there stood Riley, her hands clenched at her sides and they both straightened up. He hated being responsible for that look of hurt in her eyes. Maya looked down at her shoes and he felt sorry for her as well. She had been trying so hard , all her life, to protect her friend from the hurt of the world and here she was, the person to hurt her, sealed and delivered.

Him and Riley’s three year relationship ended that night over the phone with a lot of silence and sharp words from her side of the conversation. You would think after three years he would feel hurt and be mourning the loss if his girlfriend, but instead, he felt free. He called Maya but she did not answer the phone. He tried a few more times but it went straight to voicemail.

He thought that maybe she just felt bad about the entire Riley situation and that at school he would assure her that everything was alright and that Riley was not even that mad anyways, but for three days she didn’t show up to school and he felt a panic rise in him. He didn’t ask Riley because she still wasn’t talking to him and obviously Farkle, his supposed best friend was taking her side. She still would not pick up her phone and with nothing else to do he found himself walking towards her apartment after school. He knocked on her door loudly and anxiously. There was no response. Where was she? He knocked again and shook the handle only to find that the door was open. The pace of his heart increased rapidly and his palms began to sweat. Why was her door open and why did he suddenly feel so scared? He slowly pushed open the door and there she sat on the couch, in front of the television that blasted a Spanish soap opera. As familiar as this scenario was to him, he could not help but feel something was missing. Only then did he realize the empty rocking chair and the door to her grandmother’s room that was wide open showcasing a stripped mattress and boxes on the floor for packing. Everything connected and his eyes fell back to her on the couch, knees drawn to her chest and unseeing eyes glued to the television. If he looked closely he could have seen that her hands trembled as they wrapped around her legs. He could see that she was trying desperately to hold herself together. “Oh Maya,” he said and he dropped his book bag to the floor and made his way to the couch. He enveloped her into his arms and this time she didn’t tense but completely melted into him. She buried her face in his chest and he rested his chin on her head, smoothing his hand over her hair and she cried and shook and soaked his t-shirt with her tears. And in that moment he held her together.

He held her hand at the funeral and stayed with her at the grave until everyone else left so she could say her goodbyes without the whole world to witness and just him, and he was not allowed to stay because he didn’t matter, but because he did. He took her for ice cream afterwards instead of them going back to the apartment to be surrounded by sad stories and the sickening smell of flowers. He tried to make her laugh and she appreciated it even though the most she could muster was a bitter smile. They stood on the sidewalk outside the ice cream shop and he held her hand tightly and whispered to her that it was all going to be okay and she rested her head on his shoulder. Death sucked, but it sucked a little less when you had someone to hold onto.

The first time he kissed her, they were on her fire escape. They had started to sit there a lot now because watching Spanish soap operas just really was never the same anymore. He was telling her about the stars in Texas and how when you looked up at night you could see billions of them dotting the sky unlike the too bright city of New York that drowned out the night sky. They lay on their backs looking at the sky and he had challenged her that she probably could not even count twenty stars in New York’s night sky. Of course she had looked at him determinately and started to count, hell bent to find twenty-one stars, the one extra just to make him look like an ass. And of course she did count twenty one stars exactly and she raised her arms in triumph above her head and then turned to give him the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen. This smile met her eyes and lit up her entire face, and she was brighter than any Texas sky. He took her face in both his hands and kissed her. She tasted like coffee and strawberries and Spanish soap operas and night skies and he loved her so much his heart hurt. She pulled away from him and looked at him, her eyes wide and questioning. He nodded his head in response to her unasked question and pulled her back in and his hands threaded through her sunshine hair. Her hands wrapped behind his neck and their bodies fit in ways that was too perfect too describe.

He no longer had to wonder if her kisses were as electric as the thunderstorm in her eyes. They were. And she tasted like everything he could ever want and in her arms and lost in her lips, he knew;

He was home

#lucaya #girl meets world #rileymatthews #maya hart #sabrina carpenter #rowan blanchard #lucayafic #farkle minkus #lucas #peyton meyer #girlmeetsworldfanfiction

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deniigi · 4 years

Note

I WOULD LOVE A DAVE FIC !!!

Excellent. Here’s for you and @dudewhereismy-tardis

I am putting most of it under the cut because it is LONG

Dave (Daredevil copycat from Inimitable Verse) POV. Reminder that Dave is not his real name, but one given to him disdainfully by Wade in this verse.

Title: rises in the east

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

“Dad.”

What?

“Dad.”

What time was it?

“Your phone’s ringing,” Charlie said. “It’s the boss.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Give it here,” Dave rasped, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“Mom said you’re gonna hurt your back sleepin’ on the couch,” Charlie reported as she shoved his phone into his palm.

“My couch, my rules,” Dave said. He crammed the phone to his ear. “Ansel here,” he said.

Charlie wanted to stay home and if she was a year older, Dave would have let her. But alas. The last time he’d let her stay home, she’d texted her friend Jesse who had become unspeakably jealous and had appealed to her own parents for such freedoms, and now the whole block thought that Dave recklessly abandoned his daughter when he went to the goddamn grocery store.

All that for a can of Sprite, man.

This neighborhood was off the fuckin’ charts sometimes.

Case in point: Dani standing in front of him in the lobby with her hands on her hips, telling him that he needed to wear a tighter t-shirt or to start flexing because they were losing business.

“Dani, I’m an instructor,” he reminded her. “I’m hired to do classes.”

“It’s two hours,” Dani said. “Take the damn fliers.”

But he didn’t want to?

Dani blinked at him slowly from under her headband.

Charlie was having a great time and Dave was glad for that because he was not. He was being stared at by every person in the street as if they’d never seen a dude with muscles before.

It was the shirt.

He knew it was the shirt.

And possibly his nipples. Smashing the brochures high enough against his chest to cover them wasn’t going well and the highlighter teal underarmor Dani had forced upon him left very little to the imagination here.

There wasn’t anything else to do but let the poor things live their best lives.

“Dad, gimme more,” Charlie said.

She tugged at the brochures covering what was left of his dignity.

Blessed child, who hurt you?

“Where did the others go?” he asked her.

Charlie pointed across the road to a gaggle of ladies leaning out from their stoop, smiling.

Ah.

Yes.

Them.

“Let’s try for someone who looks more like a bro,” he told his offspring.

Charlie blinked up at him.

“Why?” she asked.

Oh, baby.

“Because they’re an easy mark,” he said. “Go up and say ‘my dad can take you’ and send ‘em my way, okay?”

Charlie’s face went from confused to ready to kill instantly.

This was her game face. This was her ‘I’m gonna wreck this goalee’s teeth’ face.

Dave shouldn’t have been proud of her, really; her teachers said that she was becoming argumentative and obstinate in the classroom. But there was just something there in the fact that his kid sure as shit wasn’t no sheep that made his chest feel big, wide, and full of hot air.

“I’m on it,” Charlie said.

He gave her three brochures and let her scramble off to the other side of the sidewalk and then turned to meet the eye of a family with a father with neat hair and the beginnings of triceps peeking out from under his sleeves.

“You lookin’ for a gym, sir?” he asked.

The guy looked his way and eyed him up.

He took a flier on his way past.

“Excuse me?”

“One second, man,” Dave said, doing the rock-shuffle to keep all the fliers on the table from blowing away.

“Excuse me.”

“Hey, I said just a sec,” Dave snapped.

He turned back and found himself staring into the dark eyes of a bald man with olive skin and deep wrinkles in his forehead.

And Dave knew him.

Holy shit.

Dave knew him.

Fuck.

God.

Jesus, Lord.

“I am so sorry,” he started.

“DAD.”

Ch—Charlie?

He looked down and sure enough, holding Rudolph ‘Diamond’ De Luca’s massive bearpaw was his very own daughter. De Luca made her wiry, suntanned limbs seem like unbaked pretzels.

He was so much bigger than he’d seemed on TV all those years ago.

“This your kid?” De Luca asked.

Jesus.

“She is. I’m so sorry,” Dave said, “Did she—she didn’t bite you or anything, did she?”

“Dad,” Charlie whined. “Don’t tell ‘im that.”

“I’ll pay for whatever damage—” Dave continued.

De Luca blinked at him impossibly slowly with long dark eye lashes. He turned his face slowly back down towards Charlie.

“You sure this is your old man?” he asked.

Wh—

Wait.

What the hell did that mean?

“That’s him,” Charlie moaned. “He’s just bein’ dumb. Dad. Stop bein’ dumb. This dude’s the real deal. He’ll fight you in a heartbeat.”

Dave grabbed his child before she could cause any more damage. She made a fuss, but let go of De Luca’s mitt. Dave shoved her behind him, just in case this situation got any more tense than it needed to be.

De Luca lifted an eyebrow at that and then brought his face back up to Dave’s.

“Who’s gym?” he asked.

What?

Oh.

“Spitfire,” Dave said. “We’re, uh, just about there, on the—”

“I know where you’re about,” De Luca said.

Dave didn’t know what to say. De Luca held his eye.

Oh, god.

This wasn’t going well.

“How old are you, son?” De Luca asked.

FFFFFFFFFFFffffffffffffuck.

“38,” Dave said.

“And your baby girl?” De Luca asked, gesturing with his chin down at Charlie.

“I’m 12,” Charlie told him brightly.

“Hm,” De Luca said.

He shifted his weight back and wrapped a few fingers around his chin, surveying Dave’s whole body like he was the statue of David with a knee injury.

Dave became intimately aware of his nipples again.

“Not bad,” De Luca said.

Oh, thank god.

“Thank you, sir,” Dave said. “Is there, uh, somethin’ I could help you with?”

“You got an accent,” De Luca noted.

Uh?

“A good accent,” De Luca said. “Whereabouts did you grow up?”

Oh.

Well.

Dave could actually just point to it from here. The condo was still standing, despite all building codes and actual alien invasions. At this point, the only thing that was gonna take it down were the rampant, rapidly mutating, borderline feral gangs of chickens that roamed its halls.

Not that anyone spoke about them.

No, that was inviting trouble to your doorstep.

“The chicken coop?” De Luca said.

The one and only.

“Bless you, you poor fuck.”

Yeah, that tended to be the usual reaction.

De Luca laughed.

“You’re a funny guy, uh,” he squinted at Dave’s nametag, “Ansel?”

How could a word sound so wrong in someone’s mouth?

Where had Dave’s life gone wrong that his own name sounded so foreign and distant to his ears?

“Actually,” he said, swallowing, “My uh, my friends call me ‘Dave.’”

De Luca’s head snapped right up and slowly, a grin spread across his face.

“Oh, now, that’s a good name for ya,” he said. “You look like a Davy.”

Hng.

Diamond De Luca thought he looked like a ‘Davy.’

Welp.

Time to get that birth certificate changed.

“Listen, Davy,” De Luca said casually, “Your baby girl there was tellin’ me that your boss has you out here like dancin’ monkey; is that true?”

Fffffffffff.

Technically yes?

“It’s even his day off,” Charlie whispered.

Dave wrapped a hand over her face.

“It’s fine,” he said. “It happens. Folks’ve been sick lately. I don’t normally do this kinda thing.”

De Luca’s face said that that was real cute. Real, real cute, honey.

“Well,” he said, “Let’s just say it like this. Where you work don’t gotta be where you train.”

Oh.

Was he offering--?

“If you decide to drop by, tell the guy at the desk Rudy sent you,” De Luca said. “Your kid’s real sweet, Davy. She can come too, lord knows the damn place is a daycare at this point.”

“Thank? You?” Dave stuttered.

“Don’t mention it,” De Luca said.

He left. Dave watched him waltz down the block and wave at the gals collected on the stoop at the end of it and felt a little lightheaded.

“Dad?”

Not right now, champ.

“Dad? Is he famous or somethin’?”

HHHHHHHHHHNG.

Back when Dave had been 14 and scraping the tips of his fingers into callouses on the old guitar he’d found tossed into a dumpster in the Upper West Side, he’d had to compete with the sound of the couple fighting in the apartment next door and with the radio the old man downstairs always had playing on his fire-escape window.

The old man downstairs was a real hard-ass. Always slammed a broom into the ceiling, scaring the shit out of Mom and Dad and sister and auntie. Dave had never seen him not smoking, nor had he ever seen him without suspenders.

The man was a retired plumber, apparently. And while Jim Beam was his main vice, his passion was boxing.

To the tune of chords picked out of an out-of-tune guitar, Dave had listened to tinny commentators oohing and awing over match after match, until finally, when sleep wouldn’t come one night, Dave had snuck out of the room he’d shared with Flora. He’d settled down on the living room couch, next to his old man splayed out in the recliner.

Dad had lifted his eyes slowly his way and told him that he should have been in bed.

Dave had told him that he couldn’t sleep because the couple next door was makin’ up from their daily afternoon argument and Dad had just sighed.

He’d let Dave stay up with him and the TV in the living room had fuzzed and rattled away, making sounds really familiar to Dave at that point.

Boxing was a sport that he had, up until that night, left to his father. But for the lack of anything else to talk about that wouldn’t make his dad look at him with disappointment in his eyes for all that damn music-playin’ and eyeliner, he’d asked who the guy on the screen was.

And that was how he’d learned about Diamond De Luca.

About Kenny Varga. Bert ‘The Albatross’ Kleinfeld.

But there was one guy who Dad had mentioned was his favorite rookie and, now it felt both kind of silly and surreal that the name had been spoken so casually in Dave’s home growing up.

Dad had been puttin’ money on Battlin’ Jack Murdock back when Dave had been a little kid.

He told Dave, disappointedly, after a few weeks of Dave getting up at 12:30 to come out and watch boxing with him that he’d really thought that Murdock was gonna be the next big thing.

Guy was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, Dad had said, shaking his head. But wolves that got too wily got put down and Battlin’ Jack had been found in an alley, bled out in the arms of his reason for fighting.

Dad said it was a fuckin’ shame that Murdock had gone out with a slug in his head.

A fuckin’ shame, he said.

Dave didn’t remember him every saying that Murdock’s reason for fighting was a blind ten-year-old, but the thought was now merged with that memory.

That, in itself, was merged with the memory of Dave’s phone ringing one night was Addie’s name on the Caller ID. Her voice was shaking when she told Dave that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just called her from an unknown number.

He had their baby.

He’d snatched her and Jesse out of the arms of two men looking for girls to be used in businesses Dave didn’t want to think about.

He’d saved them.

The devil had heard their screams when no one else had and he’d come flying out of the dark.

He’d held the girls in the light of a bodega and he’d coached Charlie through typing Addie’s number into his phone and then he’d taken it from there.

Addie was too scared to go meet the devil on her own. Mason hadn’t been around yet and so Dave had thrown on his shoes and had meet her on 46th.

The devil was on 48th, swinging his boots with both girls in his lap.

They were all singing. The devil had pretended like he didn’t know the words to Britney Spears’s ‘Toxic.’

Matt Murdock was under that mask.

Knowing that this whole time, he’d been the one dragging a stick against the fences and bricks of Hell’s Kitchen was almost impossible to digest.

And Dave had worked with him now.

He’d seen that smirk and that notorious jaw unwrapped from its red armor and that didn’t make reconciling the murdered boxer’s son with the man who’d saved his daughter any easier.

Charlie hadn’t remembered him.

She thought that Matt Murdock was a weird fuckin’ dude, and granted, he was a weird fuckin’ dude, but Dave had to say: he was grateful.

Matt Murdock not only brought home his baby, but he’d given Dave purpose in a life that had become consumed by the daily grind.

Matt Murdock had smiled in his direction, never quite into his eyes, and he’d passed along the baton with next to no fight.

Dave wasn’t him.

Dave would never be him.

Matt Murdock wasn’t just some poor murdered boxer’s blind son. He was the product of some serious poverty. Some serious violence. A whole fuckin’ cult induction, if he was to be believed. And Dave wasn’t so sure if he was always to be believed.

But he still appreciated Matt Murdock for what he’d done and what he’d made for this part of the city.

He’d made Daredevil.

And he shared that with Dave.

Dave’s own dad’s approval hadn’t felt like the honor that had come with Matt Murdock’s covered eyes and curled lip slowly relaxing as he’d lifted his face up from Dave’s knees.

He hadn’t been inspecting.

He’d been listening. Dipping his fingers into the blood in Dave’s heart and deciding if he was worth his salt.

Matt Murdock, son of Battlin’ Jack Murdock, was a product of Fogwell’s Gym in the Kitchen.

Diamond De Luca, retired heavyweight, was a product of Fogwell’s Gym.

The stars had aligned. And Dave had stood in their path.

And he wasn’t wasting the chance that they offered him.

Charlie was stoked to be allowed to come to the gym with him. She usually went to Jesse’s house, where Rubes would look after both girls for a few hours.

But De Luca had said that it was okay for her to come along, and so he figured, why not?

Fogwell’s was an institution in the Kitchen. All kids deserved to know their own history.

“I’m gonna fight Fogwell himself,” Charlie announced halfway down the block.

“You will not,” Dave told her. “Because I’m not tryin’ to get thrown out before we even get started here, alright?”

Charlie whined.

He ignored it.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been to the gym. Matt Murdock slipped in and out of it when he was in the city and he’d taken the whole team there once or twice. But it was different to be there in the presence of the daytime crew.

Dave felt very small in their presence.

The whole place was full of people pounding bags and swearing and shouting at kids who were tumbling all over the rows of benches set off to the side of the bags.

It was not what Dave had been expecting.

He told the guy at the front that ‘Rudy’ had recommended that he stop by and got a nod and a wave.

“He’s probably upstairs,” the receptionist said. “Go pick a bag, I’ll give him a buzz.”

Charlie refused to join the kids on the benches because apparently that was ‘only for babies, Dad.’ She wanted to hold the bag.

She was not, in one thousand years, holding the bag.

Dave wrapped her hands and let her go at it first to ‘soften it up’ for him.

De Luca caught him adjusting the demon-child’s thumbs before they ended up at the hospital again and laughed.

“Davy-boy, you made it,” he said.

Dave snapped up straight to attention.

“I did,” he said.

De Luca laughed again.

“Relax, kid,” he said. “Damn, you’re tight wound. Don’t worry, we won’t tell no one you’re sleepin’ with the enemy.”

Ahahahaha.

Please don’t.

These people were jacked. Dave was but a kickboxing instructor.

“Here, bub, lemme see what your pops has got,” De Luca said, shooing Charlie out of the way.

And this was the moment of truth.

De Luca seemed surprised when Dave finally laid off the bag. And Dave couldn’t read his expression for a million bucks.

“Uh?” he tried. “Not good?”

De Luca blinked himself back to earth.

“Oh, no,” he said. “It’s just uh, you fight a little like someone I know.”

Please don’t say a mobster.

“Kid used to live around here; name’s Matt Murdock,” De Luca said. “You know him?”

Did—

Did he know him?

QUICK. Answer the question.

You’re takin’ too long.

He’s gonna—

“S’alright if you don’t,” De Luca said. “I was just sayin’. Kid was like one of my own.”

He—

What?

“Yeah, boy fought like the devil like his daddy before ‘im,” De Luca said. “He’s the only one Fogwell lets call him ‘Grandpa.’ He’s about your age, actually. God, I’m old.”

AHAHAHAHAHA.

Please change the subject.

“You’re not that old,” Dave said. “I think I might have heard the name.”

Charlie looked up at him, baffled at the hedging.

He pleaded with her with his eyes not to say a damn word.

“Yeah, he’s somethin’, left here for San Francisco. Didn’t even say good-bye, the little shit,” De Luca sniffed. “Came back last year all ‘I’m gettin’ married’ and I swear to god, he’s picked up some kid. Just between you and me, pal, the old guard here have been talkin’, and we think that someone missed out on the sex ed talk, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

Oh.

Poor Sam.

He wasn’t even there to scream from the mountaintops that Red was a last resort for him at best.

“I’m just sayin’,” De Luca said with a shrug that spoke far more of supreme irritation than nonchalance, “He coulda just told us. I’m just sayin’.”

Any more ‘just sayin’s’ and Diamond De Luca was gonna go find a wall to bury them in.

“Did you, uh, have any feedback?” Dave blurted out as the guy started mumbling.

“Hm?”

“Feedback,” Dave repeated, waving a gloved hand at the bag.

“Oh. Yeah, loads, kid. You got all the muscles and not a damn lick of memory, here, lemme show you.”

Crisis averted.

Thank god.

D2: hey uh, DD?

SM: DAVE

S2: DAVEEEE

S3: DAVE

SM: what’s up man?

D2: nothing I was just trying to get ahold of DD?

BT: He’s trying to get Kirsten to give up her dreams of an indoor office pond rn. Can I help?

SM: I want an indoor office pond

S3: omg same

D2: uh yeah actually could you just tell him I met a guy named De Luca the other day and he might want to give him a call?

BT: de Luca?

D2: yeah

BT: okay sure thing

D2: thanks

BT: I’ll go see if I can get a word in edgewise.

SM: good fucking luck

S2: I hate fish

S3: leave this place and never return

S2: I HATE FISH

DD: WHAT

SM: oh shit that was quick

D2: oh. I was just saying that I met Diamond De Luca the other day?

SM: ?? Who’s that?

DD: oh no

S2: ??????????????

DP (´｡✪ω✪｡´): who the fuck is that?

DD: are you still with him?

D2: no?

D2: he caught me out fliering and invited me to Fogwell’s

D2: and when I got there he mentioned my stance was like yours and he uh

D2: got a little distracted

DD: what kind of distracted?

D2: He thinks Sam’s your bastard kid

BT: GODDAMNIT

DD: FOR FUCKS SAKE

BT: First Mrs. Jones, now this guy?? TEACH.

DD: These people have zero faith in me I swear to god.

DD: like come ON man. I did sex ed in the same class as Angie he knows I’m too catholic for that shit

DP (´｡✪ω✪｡´): I looked this man up and he looks like an Italian nate with less hair

SM: wh

DP (´｡✪ω✪｡´): okay you’re right he looks nothing like nate

SM: that

SM: that’s not even slightly helpful, wade, thanks not at all. Hey who’s angie?

DD: long story. Rudy’s daughter

S2: RED YOU FUCKED A BOXERS DAUGHTER?? That’s a million dollar baby man

DD: I

DD: what?

DD: no? Why would I fuck angie she’s like my sister?

S2: oh nvm

SM: 😬😬😬

S3: I am confused ❤

D2: you should probably call him, friend

DD: on it. thanks for the notice

DD: hey what’s your fuckin name again?

S2: f

S3: f

SM: f

D2: It’s Ansel

DD: Adams?

D2: not the photographer. Ansel West.

SM: WEST

S2: OMG

S3: guys don’t

SM: I BET YOURE A SUNSET DAVE

S2: YOU EVER FEEL CALLED TO THE PRAIRIE DAVE???

SM: YOU’RE A&W, DAVE!!

S2: ROOT BEER ROOT BEER

D2: ah yes. Middle school. I remember this feeling.

Dave laid his phone on his chest and stared back up at the ceiling.

It was never dull, this new life he’d settled into.

He said a prayer for Murdock and rolled onto his side.

It was still his goddamn couch.

#fic #inimitable verse #ficlet #team red

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writingwithciara · 4 years

Text

Marry Me ~Drew Starkey~

summary: y/n and drew. an inseparable duo. they grew up thinking nothing could come between them. but when they turned 24, they were definitely mistaken.

word count: 2.8k

pairings: drew x reader

warnings: angst

a/n: mostly told in 3rd person with bits of Drew’s POV. based off of this song! this gif will be drew before the wedding, just saying. italics are flashbacks!

masterlist

At 8 years old, Drew was trusted to wander the neighborhood alone. He went to the park and saw a girl dressed in a tutu, dancing barefoot in the sandbox. When he approached her, he startled her. She stopped dancing and turned to face him.

“Hi.” her smile was the most friendly thing Drew had ever seen. It was the first time he’d met someone who didn’t scare him.

“Hi.” he waved and kicked the sand below his foot.

“What brings you here?”

“Got bored at home and needed a new adventure.” he shrugged in response, hoping to get the girls name without asking.

“ME too.” she smiled. “What’s your name, stranger?”

“D-drew.” he looked up and noticed a quizzical look upon her face.

“I like it.” she smiled and held out her hand. “I”m y/n.”

“y/n?” he raised an eyebrow and looked at her.

Suddenly becoming insecure of her name, she stepped back., letting go of his hand. “My p-parents liked the name.”

“I like it too.” he smiled and sat on the edge of the sandbox. y/n stood in front of him with an outstretched hand.

“Come on. You wanted an adventure and an adventure, you will get.” she offered him the kind smile she greeted him with. He knew that this new found friendship would last a long time.

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

All through life, y/n & drew were inseparable. In high school, they were always mistaken for a couple, and at the time, neither of them realized just how much they acted like one.

It wasn’t until one night, during one of Drew’s football games, that one of them started noticing.

The game was nearing the end and Drew had yet to spot y/n in the crowd. She wasn’t in her usual spot in the stands and he was starting to get worried that something had happened to her.

He was the quarterback though, so he couldn’t let that shake his focus. He looked back into the team huddle as they went over the plays. They broke apart seconds later and got in their starting positions. Drew called out some plays and was handed the ball. Just as he was about to throw it, he caught sight of her. She waved at him and he was almost hypnotized. It took y/n screaming his name to make him come to his senses.

“Drew!” she shouted and nodded her head to the left. The other teams players were running towards him so he made a quick pass to the wide receiver on the left. The guy caught the ball and ran it in for a touchdown. That was it. They had won the game. Drew and the guy who made the touchdown were suddenly lifted into the air and everyone started chanting.

Y/n waited by Drew’s car for him to come out, like she always did. And when she spotted him, she ran full force into him. If he hadn’t seen her already, he would’ve been knocked down. But he caught her and spun her around.

After they got in his car, they drove to the diner to celebrate with the team. Y/n and Drew sat in their favorite, and most frequented, booth and ordered their usual celebratory meal. Burgers, fries and a shake.

“Where were you? I was getting so worried.” Drew smiled as he stole her fries. She smacked his hand and giggled.

“I had to wait for Dennis to pick me up.”

“Wh-who’s Dennis?”

“He’s my new neighbor. Just moved in a few days ago. He offered to drop me off at the game and he was running late.”

“If you wanted to, you could’ve gotten a ride with me.”

“I know. But I wanted to give you some space before the big game.” she smiled and looked at him. “I didn’t want to distract you right before you went out on the field.”

“You’re my good luck charm. You could never distract me.” he held her hand and looked out the window at their friends, who were goofing off in the parking lot. “You have no idea how lucky I am to have you in my life.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” she smiled and before either of them knew, they both started leaning in. Their lips were only an inch or two apart when they were interrupted by some guy banging on the window beside Drew. “Dennis!” she smiled and ran out to greet the guy. As she slapped his arm for scaring her, he chuckled and wrapped her up in a hug.

Drew instantly felt insecure and he wasn’t sure why.

This Dennis guy looked like he came out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog, the very type of guy that y/n would fall for. As Drew looked on at the two outside, he didn’t feel hungry anymore so he stood up, paid the bill, and left the diner.

For the next year or so, he distanced himself from y/n. He couldn’t stand to hear her talk about how great another guy was, right in front of him. The night at the diner made Drew realize that the only reason he suddenly felt jealous, was because he was in love with her.

2 years after the championship game, he got an envelope in the mail. It was addressed to him and it was from y/n. Wondering what she wanted, he quickly opened the envelope. But when he did, his heart dropped. Inside was a wedding invitation to Dennis & Y/n’s wedding.

It was surprising to him that he had even received the invitation in the first place, since he had been blowing her off for the better part of 2 years. He didn’t want to go to the wedding, but he knew if he didn’t, he’d regret it.

So the day of the wedding, he showed up. His tux was the same one he wore to prom. The exact same one that he knew y/n would love. The one she did love when she saw him in it that night.

It was killing him, these thoughts he was having. He had contemplated his plan and changed the details many times. His original plan was to show up and actually watch the girl he loved get married to the man he was incredibly jealous of. Then, he changed the plan to leaving halfway through. The plan changed 4 more times after that.

And here he was now, getting ready to try out his final plan. He wanted to go see her and he hoped that once she saw him, she’d give up on Dennis and run away with him.

But as he approached the room where she was getting ready, he heard her talking to her friends. He stopped and listened to them.

“You look so great in that dress.”

“You really do, sweetie.”

“Thanks, mom.” she smiled and kissed her moms cheek. Her sister and her 2 best friends sat next to each other on the couch.

“Dennis is a lucky man, sis.”

“I’m even luckier.” she smiled happily. “I love him so much.”

When Drew heard those words come from her mouth, he made one final decision. He went back to the gift table, set the box down gently & walked away. He could not stay and watch her marry Dennis. It would break his heart knowing that he could’ve been the one up at the altar with her, had he actually told her how he felt before Dennis entered the picture.

If he had stayed outside of her room just a minute longer, he would’ve heard something amazing during the conversation. Something he would’ve enjoyed hearing.

“Is Drew coming today?” y/n asked her friends.

“You know, I’ve always hoped it was going to be you and Drew doing this.” her mom smiled and shook her head. Y/n’s sister looked at her as well.

“Me too.”

“Yeah. I thought the same thing but, Drew never made a move. It would’ve been nice to be marrying him, but Dennis is a great guy and he treats me well.” y/n smoothed out the front of her dress and turned. “I made the right choice, right?”

“That’s up to you to decide, sweetie.” her mom looked over at her children and smiled.

“5 minutes, ladies.” y/n’s dad walked into the room and nearly bawled his eyes out. “Awww. My baby looks so beautiful.”

“Oh, dad. You’re gonna make me cry.” y/n grinned and followed the group out of the room.

“Dennis is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”

“That’s the plan, dad.”

Y/n watched her friends walk down the aisle and when it was her turn, she grabbed her dad’s arm and walked with him. Her eyes searched the crowd for the blue eyes she cared about. Despite what he has been doing to her for years, she wanted nothing more than to see him sitting in the spot she reserved for him.

When here eyes didn’t find his, she started getting nervous. His eye contact was the only thing that truly calmed her down and she didn’t have it right now. She had thought that he had taken the last second to have a bathroom break but after 15 minutes, she realized he wasn’t coming.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t realize that the ceremony was almost over.

“IF anyone can think of any reason these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” the minister read from his book.

When nobody stood up to object, y/n felt a knot in her stomach. Part of her had hoped that maybe Drew would stand up and tell her that she was making a mistake and that she should be with him. Unfortunately, he was nowhere around.

“Now, do you Dennis Christopher Mixon, take Y/F/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

“I do.” Dennis smiled.

“And do you, Y/F/N, take Dennis Christoper Mixon, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

The entire crowd looked at her, anticipating her answer. Her dad knew what she was thinking and he gave her a small nod.

~Drew’s POV~

After I left the wedding venue, I went to the diner I spent all my free time at. The cook began making me a meal as soon as he saw me and the owner sat with me.

“What’s up, Drew? Shouldn’t you be at y/n’s wedding?”

“He’s not there because it’s not him she’s marrying.” the cook smiled as he served me. Mrs Marden let out a chuckle.

“Is that true, honey? Are you upset because it’s not you?”

“I couldn’t sit there and watch her say she loves him. She shouldn’t be with him and I should’ve said how I felt from the beginning.”

“You know, the both of us have seen the two of you grow up & we thought that it’d for sure be the two of you sharing the rest of your lives together.” Devyn smiled sympathetically as he sat with us.

“I wish it was me.” I looked down at my watch and undid my tie when I noticed the time. “But it’s too late now. The ceremony is probably over by now and she’s now Mrs Mixon. I missed my chance.” I sighed and threw my head back. I didn’t notice the two of them gaze out the window and share a look.

“It might not be too late, Drew.” Mrs Marden nudged my shoulder and walked away. Devyn followed her as they went to the kitchen. I took a quick look out the window, then back at my plate.

“Wait a second.” I mumbled to myself and looked back out the window. Y/n was walking up to the diner in her wedding dress. Tears were flowing down her face as she stopped and locked eyes with me through the window. She shrugged and started crying again.

I got up and ran out to her, immediately pulling her into a hug.

“Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon right about now?”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“What?”

“I couldn’t marry Dennis.” she sobbed into my chest. “Everyone looked so disappointed as I ran out. I think I broke Dennis’ heart. That’s not what I do. I’m not a heartbreaker. Oh my god. I feel so ashamed.”

“Hey, you did what you thought was right for your heart. I don’t think anyone can be mad at you for that. You knew being with Dennis wasn’t right, so you left.”

“Our parents spent so much money on the wedding and they’re gonna be so mad.” she continued to sob, obviously ignoring what I had just said. I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back a little.

“Look at me, okay? Nobody could ever be mad at you. And if they are, it’ll only be briefly. Like I said, you followed your heart and did what was gonna benefit you. That’s all that matters, y/n/n.” I looked down at her and noticed her eyes were closed. “You’re my best friend and I’m so sorry I’ve been pushing away all these years.”

Was this finally the time I was able to tell her? Nah, I couldn’t She just ran our on her wedding. It just wouldn’t be right. If she even reciprocated the feelings, I didn’t want to be a rebound. So I kept my feelings buried for now.

“I realized that I didn’t love Dennis as much as I had led myself to believe.” she sniffled and rubbed her eyes. The mascara came off on her hands and she looked at me. I nodded and she rubbed her hands on my tux. Thankfully, it was black and wouldn’t show much. “Truthfully, I fell in love when I was 8 & I’ve never gotten over it. Marrying Dennis wouldn’t have been fair to either party involved.”

“You fell in love when you were 8?” was this the moment? “What a coincidence. I fell in love when I was 8 too.”

“Oh, did you really?”

“Yeah. With this goofy girl who danced barefoot in the sandbox while wearing a bright pink tutu.” I smiled and rubbed her shoulder. “She was quite the style icon back then.”

“Sounds like a complete dork.” she laughed.

“Oh, she was. But that dork became my best friend so quickly. Guess I was just attracted to the ‘dork’ lifestyle back then.”

“You’re telling me.” she smirked, “Remember when you dated Lilah because your friends dared you to?”

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

“And then there was Lisa. And Lauren. And the other Lisa. Oh. There was also Lindsey.” she counted off all my ex-girlfriends on her fingers. “Wow. Lot’s of L names, huh?”

“It was my favorite letter.”

“Ah, I see.” she nodded and stared at her feet. Her shoes were now in her hands and she was swinging them. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah. And I love you too.” I joked, knowing exactly what she meant. But my tone didn’t come across how I wanted it.

“The kid I was talking about, the one I fell in love with when I was 8, was you.”

“Oh, really? I wouldn’t have ever guessed that.”

“Drew, I’m trying to be serious for a second here. Can you just let me talk, please?”

“Of course. Go ahead.” I smiled and she stood in front of me.

“I’m in love with you, Drew Starkey. And if you’ll let me, I plan on never stopping.”

“I’m in love with you too.” I looked at the girl and when I saw the look in her eyes, I panicked. “But-”

“But? There should be no but.”

“I can’t be a rebound.”

“If anything, Dennis was the rebound from you, dude.” she grabbed my face and made me look in her eyes. “Tell me right now that you don’t want to be with me and I’ll walk away. Look me in the eyes and tell me that’s what you want.”

“I....” I looked into her eyes and all of our memories came flooding back to me. “I can’t do that.”

“Thank god, because I wouldn’t have walked away.” she giggled and kissed my nose, something we used to do to calm each other down & keep each other grounded. “So, is this what you want? A hot mess in a wedding dress?”

“Hey, as long as the hot mess is you, I’m cool with it.” I pulled her closer and rested my forehead against hers. “I’m all in.”

“Hmmm...Good.” she smiled and closed the gap between us. It may have taken nearly 15 years but I finally got what I wanted since I was 8. And like it was magic, she was 8 and wearing her tutu while I was wearing my power rangers t-shirt.

Life couldn’t get any better.

tags: @spilledtee @im-a-stranger-thing @ameeravandijk @jellyfishbeansontoast @obxmxybxnk @http-cherries @ijustreallylovethem @maggiesrandomness @softstarkey @poguesgold @jjouterbanks @drewstarkey

#drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #drew x reader #song fic #marry me #thomas rhett

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sometimesiwritebadly · 4 years

Text

Mistakes (Harry Styles x Reader)

Summary: Harry dumped you five months ago, and he never told you why. Until today. (angst)

Prompts: 15. “Why did you leave me?” 46. “Please, baby, forgive me.” “I can’t”

Warnings: language

Notes: at the end cause spoilers

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

You and Harry had broken up nearly five months ago. Or more accurately, he dumped you out of the blue, didn’t give you a good reason, and left for the first leg of his world tour five months ago. At first you had been completely devastated - How do you get over a relationship you truly never thought would end? The two of you had been dating just six months, but it was the fastest you’d ever fallen in love. Harry was an amazing boyfriend, and over the course of your relationship, he became your world. He had told you that you were his world too...until suddenly, you weren’t.

“Please, love-”

“Don’t call me love. Not while you’re in the middle of dumping me.”

“...Y/N. I just think this is for the best.”

“Why?”

He stayed silent.

“Fine, Harry. You want to be a coward and not give me a real reason? That’s fine. Have a good life.” With that you walked away, not looking back. You hoped that you looked good as you walked away, because tears that you didn’t want Harry to see immediately started to stream down your face.

It took a while, but eventually your sadness and anger turned to indifference. It may have taken a few drunken girls’ nights - and maybe a few ill-advised hookups - but you were finally happy again. You managed to put the pain of losing who you once thought was the love of your life behind you, focusing more on your friends and your career than you had while dating Harry. You had been working so hard lately, you decided to give yourself a relaxing night in. You ordered a pizza, got yourself a nice bottle of wine, and was currently looking for a good rom-com to watch on Netflix when there was a knock at your door. Assuming it was your food, you grabbed your wallet from your kitchen counter and opened it with a smile on your face. That smile quickly disappeared when you saw who was actually on the other side. Harry.

“What are you doing here?” You said coldly. All the work you had done to get over your anger towards Harry seemed to melt away almost immediately. You remembered how he had given you a bullshit excuse - “It’s not you, love. It’s me.” - despite how just the day before he had been his normal loving, caring, perfect self. You flashback to the news articles showing Harry out with one of his exes, you couldn’t be bothered to remember which one, only a week after he had told you he “needed some time alone.” And now, he had the guts to show up at your house without any warning or invitation.

“Can I come in?” He asked. His hands were deep in his pockets, and he only held eye contact with you for a moment before he looked down at his shoes.

“Answer the question.” You certainly weren’t going to let him get whatever he wants. Not without a fight, anyways.

“I was in the neighborhood, and, well...I just wanted to see ya. I miss talking to you.” He finally looked up at you again, only to be met with your blank stare. “...Maybe I can finally give ya a proper explanation.” Your eyebrows shot up at that. Now he definitely had your attention. You may not want to be anywhere near him right now, but...well, you are curious as to why he had decided to break your heart all those weeks ago. So, you opened the door wider, and stepped aside, allowing him to enter your house.

He walked in, now nervously toying with his hands, and took in the place that he had once been so familiar with. “You re-painted.” Your once grey walls were now a cool blue; a subtle change, but still noticeable to anyone who frequented your place.

“Yup.” You definitely weren’t in the mood for small talk.

“I like it. I think it matches your couch much mor-”

“Harry.” He stopped looking around your living area, now turning back to you. “Why did you leave me?” You cut straight to the point, and based off the look on Harry’s face, he wasn’t expecting that. “You said you were gonna explain, H. Go ahead, give me a real reason this time.” As you talked, you walked over to your coffee table to grab the glass of wine you had poured for yourself earlier.

“I..erm.” He paused, and took a deep breath. “I was scared.” He answered quietly. This wasn’t the answer you had been expecting. “I cheated on you.” “I’m in love with someone else.” “I’m just an asshole.” Those were the kind of answers you had expected, the explanations you had made up when comforting yourself over the past five months. But fear? That had never crossed your mind.

“Scared of what?” You were still plenty angry, sure, but your voice had a much kinder tone to it this time.

“Of being away from you. Long distance. Of getting burned again.” He answered, a little more confidently this time. He had noticed the lack of anger in your voice, and it gave him hope. Your eyebrows furrowed in response. When you didn’t answer, he took it as a signal to explain himself more. “Y’know how I’ve had relationships end before...We’re together for a while, I leave for a tour or something... and I get cheated on. They get tired of waiting for me to come home, and they find someone who can be there with them all the time. Even though I loved...love you so much, I couldn’t stand the idea of it happening again. So I decided to end it before you had the chance to realize you could do better.” You didn’t miss his little declaration as he finally gave you a real reason after all this time, but you couldn’t think about that right now. It’s not necessarily a good reason - actually, no, it’s a terrible reason to break up with someone - but to an extent you do understand.

“Harry…” You stopped, only because you didn’t know where to start. “I never would’ve cheated on you. You were-” You stopped yourself. “You were the love of my life. I wanted to marry you.” “I loved you. More than anything.” You continued; instead of what you were really thinking. “I understand why you were worried but you should’ve trusted me.”

“I know.” He took a step towards you, and gave you a gentle smile. “That’s why I came back. I fucked up, Y/N, but I want to try this again. I’m still in love with you.” Instead of returning the smile Harry had sent you, it was your turn to avoid eye contact, instead studying the pattern of the floor. “I know I hurt you. But please, baby, forgive me. Let me fix this.”

“I…” You couldn’t find the words to continue the sentence. What did you want? All these confessions, everything that he’s saying. It’s what you wanted to hear five months ago. He’s saying all the right words, and yet, you couldn’t give in. Maybe some part of you would always love him...but the time had passed. He waited too long. “I can’t, H.” You couldn’t make eye contact with him, but you didn’t miss the small drop of water that landed near his feet. Despite your words, he had moved even closer to you “I guess I’m the coward now.” You thought. “You didn’t trust me then. I don’t think I can trust you now, Harry.” You stopped, finally looking up towards Harry to see his teary eyes. “I’m finally moving on, H. Maybe it’s time you do the same.” He only nodded, and watched you with a painful look on his face as you stepped away from him.

“I fucked up.”

“Yeah, you did. But next time you fall in love, you won’t make the same mistake.”

~~~

Notes: I really like writing happy endings but when the random number generator popped out these two prompts I knew I couldn’t end it happily. it was hard but I ignored all my natural instincts lmao. maybe I’ll do a part two where they work it out though cause I like happy endings

#harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #angst

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lgbtyrus · 3 years

Text

This Love Will Never Be Convenient - “Flashlight”

A/N: So I consumed a lot of amazing LukeBobby content. Got brain rot. And now I have this little worm in my brain whispering, “Write LukeBobby. Write LukeBobby,” and I produced this. So guess what everyone! Bullying works :)

This story will be multiple chapters/snippets of Bobby and Luke’s relationship. Some short, some long. All with The Front Bottoms references because I imagine their relationship with added romantic tension is a TFB album. I guess I don’t really have to say this because we all know, but this is my personal take on Bobby.

Ao3 Link

“Flashlight”

Words: 1.9k

The white of the flashlight went through the window of the house next door and hit Luke’s bedroom window. It flashed in and out, going over a small area of posters and pictures Luke had hung up. There wasn’t a single piece of wall that wasn’t decorated with pictures of bands, instrument catalogue papers, and polaroids of the boys.

Luke chuckled, letting the light go around for a bit before he got out from under his bedsheets. He walked over to his window that was glued shut by his parents and could see Bobby’s face light up when he saw him. Bobby pointed down, outside to the ground and Luke nodded before walking to his closet.

He put on a hoodie and some pink fuzzy socks Bobby would tease him for before quietly sneaking past his parents’ bedroom. They were heavy sleepers and didn’t catch Luke most of the time that he walked right out the front door late at night. It just the one time that they caught him leaving through the window that turned into a huge deal that grounded him for a month. During the day, he wasn’t allowed to go out but at night, he’d walk through the front door and go straight to Bobby’s garage so they could drive to practice. That was the month their sleeping schedules got wrecked.

Luke silently shut the door and turned around to Bobby standing there, fully dressed with his hands in his jacket. Luke rose an eyebrow, scanning him and his denim on denim outfit up and down and back up. Luke had sweats and slippers on.

“Where we going?”

“Burger King,” Bobby said, starting to walk away.

“Let me get my wallet,” Luke said, about to turn around.

Without stopping, Bobby said back to him, “You got me last time, so I got you this time.” Luke stood still and smiled for a moment before jumping back into the reality of a cold summer night. Like a little kid again, he sped to Bobby’s lawn where his van was already running. Luke knew he left it warming up for him because for someone who hated sleeves, he hated the cold. But Bobby would never admit to it and would stop doing it if he pointed it out.

They started driving away, Luke looking in the backseats of the van. Bobby’s graduation robe and cap were thrown there next to what he recognized as one of Alex’s orange fanny packs and a single checkered van that belonged to Reggie.

“Any special occasion?” Luke asked Bobby as he reached over to crank up the heat. He took note that the corner of Bobby’s lips contorted into a small smile. He always tried to hide them.

“I’m hungry, and you’re free,” Bobby said flatly.

“How do you know I wasn’t busy?” Luke asked him. Bobby side eyed him and didn’t say anything, sighing deeply. He knew that most of the time that Luke said stuff to him, he just wanted to bother him. Luke knew he wasn’t going to answer either as Bobby reached over to change the song the Everclear CD was playing. Not a big fan of “Father of Mine” apparently.

“Have you written any new songs?” Bobby asked after a minute of silence between the two.

“I got like two that are halfway done,” Luke said. He looked out the window, saying goodbye to their familiar neighborhood and entering the heart of the city through the freeway. “But I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Bobby asked. He sounded confused and beneath his straight lips that could have been a frown if he wasn’t so… Bobby, there was some concern. “You usually say they’re the best songs in the world. What’s been up with you lately.” Luke looked at Bobby who was focusing hard on the road. So this is why he had taken him out.

Alex and Reggie could easily ask Hey man, are you good? I noticed you’ve been down? Do you need help? to Luke and get an answer out of him within minutes. And then they’d either give him advice or just make him feel better because he had friends that listened.

Bobby was a different story. Bobby was not one to ask if someone else was okay. Directly at least. He was an acts of service type of guy (Alex’s ex-boyfriend had them all look up their love languages and it made more sense than astrology to Luke). Although those favors were never asked for in the first place. It sometimes annoyed Luke because it meant Bobby got himself in messes that he couldn’t get out of. Like trying to fix Reggie’s bass for him and making it worse. Or teaching Luke how to do laundry that one week he stayed at Bobby’s place because his parents went on vacation, and he ended up ruining all of Luke’s shirts.

Treating him to Burger King was another act of service Luke did not ask for, but it did make him smile because Bobby had noticed something was up.

Bobby was a bit like him. Stubborn. My way or the highway. Like having eyes on him. Anytime someone cried, they both freaked out. Things they both never grew out of.

But while Luke grew out of hiding his love for his friends once Reggie and Alex joined their friend group in middle school, Bobby didn’t. He stayed reserved yet friendly as much as Luke would overly cling to his shoulder, hug him, and occasionally plant kisses on his face that would make Bobby pretend to throw up. That was just Bobby’s personality- to look like he didn’t care to seem cooler. Even when was a huge dork.

“I dropped out of the community college classes I registered for,” Luke admitted to him.

“Oh,” Bobby muttered. He glanced at Luke from the corner of his eyes before looking back at the road. “Let me guess. You haven’t told them?” Them. Always referring to his parents like if they were further than his own parents all the time. Sometimes it bothered Luke, but he knew why his friends had disdain towards his parents. Same reasons he did, and he couldn’t blame them. He didn’t exactly talk about them just to say positive things.

“Nope,” Luke shook his head.

“You have like three weeks,” Bobby said, pointing at his mini calendar on his dashboard. It was still on March despite it being late July.

“Can’t I just pretend to carpool with you when you have classes?” Luke laughed. Bobby rolled his eyes as he turned into the exit of the street Burger King was on. “Come on. You’d already be on the way.”

“You’re just going to lurk on campus like a creep?” Bobby asked him.

“Yes,” Luke said. His face broke into a crooked smile, “Meet someone cute in the library, maybe.”

Bobby started muttering bitterly under his breath, “Insufferable. That’s what you are, insufferable.” Luke knew that would get him annoyed, and his laughter roared over the music. Bobby gave him another glare. “Look,” Bobby said out loud, “just rip off the band-aid. That’s what we’re all going to tell you to do.”

“I think Reggie would like my plan,” Luke said, reaching over to put his hand on the back of Bobby’s neck. Bobby side eyed Luke, but he didn’t shove his hand off. He knew it was either that or Luke would have his pointer and middle fingers pretend to run a marathon on the dashboard- narration included. If Luke didn’t have to resort to finger sprinting, it meant Bobby was in a good enough mood to let him keep his hand on him for a while.

Luke’s love language had come up to be physical touch and all three of the boys agreed that it was true. Luke protested for a bit but in that moment, he had put his arms around both Reggie and Alex’s necks and they looked at him like really? He didn’t argue against it after that.

Bobby was not one who liked to be touched. But he put with it when it came to cute girls flirting backstage or Luke- if he wasn’t in a bad mood. Luke always felt like Bobby was just tolerated him, but it was moments like him taking him to get food so late at night that reminded him that they were friends. Who made out like twice a long time ago but that’s not important right now.

Bobby pulled them into the parking lot of Burger King and got in the drive-thru line. It was a bit long for it being 11PM, but that’s how it usually was at any time of the day. He ignored Luke’s Reggie comment and was back to humming.

“Bobby,” Luke said.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Luke said, smiling and sticking out his tongue at him. He didn’t expect Bobby to smile back, but he did and like always, the way his eyes were barely open when he smiled so big opened up a black hole in Luke’s chest that erupted musical notes and butterflies. It was a stupid feeling.

Luke took his hand off Bobby’s neck and reached under the passenger seat. After flicking aside a water bottle cap and an old French dry, he found what he was looking for- his Polaroid camera. He started keeping it in Bobby’s van after always forgetting it for shows.

Luke pointed the camera at Bobby, finding him through the tiny lens and said, “Smile.”

“Why?” Bobby asked, already fixing his hair. Luke watched him glance at himself in the rearview mirror.

“So I can take pictures of you and hang them in my room.” Bobby didn’t say anything else and smiled before the flash went off. He seemed a little more content. Luke got the picture that came out and set it carefully on the dashboard before getting ready to take a picture of both him and Bobby.

“Your selfies never come out, dude. You’re just wasting film,” Bobby said. And before he could adjust himself and smile, Luke hit the photograph button and the flash blinded them. “Yeah, that one less.”

“Relax,” Luke said to him, placing the second photo on the dashboard. “You don’t have to look hot in every photo.” Luke knew what he was insinuating, but it didn’t make him stutter. He always complimented Bobby, and when he looked at him, like he predicted, Bobby was looking out the driver’s seat window at the very interesting beige Burger King brick wall. Luke smirked as he stared at the back of Bobby’s head. He could not take a compliment from Luke as much as he liked to receive them from other people.

Luke reached over to play with the back of Bobby’s hair, and Bobby didn’t move a bit. He was probably waiting for him to do it. Luke’s hands always found him in moments of silence.

Luke noticed the car in front of them moving forward and patted Bobby on the back.

“Go,” Luke said. Bobby faced forward again, avoiding looking at him even from the corner of his eyes as he drove forward. Luke placed his hands on his face as he stared at him, making sure he was in Bobby’s peripheral vision.

“What, dude?” Bobby smacked his lips together, looking at Luke. The question came out a lot more bashfully and quiet than his usual pissed off remarks. He bagged him for the night, and he wasn’t even trying.

“Nothing,” Luke said. “Just like looking at ya’.” Bobby rolled his eyes but from the distant Drive Thru menu sign lighting, Luke could see the scarlet on Bobby’s cheeks. Luke couldn’t stop his face from heating up either.

#julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #bobby wilson #lukebobby #jatp #stars writing #perhaps this fic is just me processing my breakup but we aint gotta talk about that

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pascalls · 3 years

Text

If I Tremble

Seymour Skinner is no coward. Except when it comes to... everything. More specifically, when it comes to figuring out the best way to confess his love.

A Skinnerin fic for @rinnysega, featuring her ‘sona, Erin, and Principal Skinner going on a DATE. Also featuring Erin’s daughter Scottie and, of course, shamelessly, a little bit of my ‘sona, Charlie. This is sort of a follow up to a shorter fic found here. Click the read-more to dive in.

Music: If I Tremble - Front Porch Step

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

It had been a while since Seymour had last taken a sick day. Normally, even when he was at his lowest, he managed to slide out of bed and trudge his way to the school. Even if it meant simply sitting behind his desk with a trash can cradled in his lap, he still made the effort. But today…

Today, he just didn’t feel like it.

He’d returned home fairly late the night before, having entertained the school nurse on a night out and away from the troubles of their personal lives. It was nearly morning by the time he’d collapsed into his bed, unable and unwilling to do much more than kick off his shoes before he was sufficiently unconscious. Nothing managed to convince him to leave the safety of his bed - not even his mother shouting at him from down the stairs - until it was well after noon. He’d very briefly come back around to let the Superintendent know that he wouldn’t be in, and then promptly put his phone on silent before drifting back to sleep.

As the sun shone brightly through his window, Seymour eventually managed to push himself into a sitting position. He was groggy and still tired, but he couldn’t convince himself to regret what he’d gotten up to the night before. If anything, it had solidified a few things in his mind. And once he was able to trudge to the bathroom and wake himself up with a long, thorough shower, those thoughts could not have been clearer.

He had spent far too long letting his feelings for the woman he loved be overshadowed by that of his boss. It wasn’t as though they hadn’t acknowledged that there was some competition over Erin’s affection. But Seymour had yet to pronounce himself as a real threat to Chalmers’ intentions. For fear of losing his job, for fear of losing the man’s respect (of which he still had, surely?), and for fear of having Erin realize that perhaps Chalmers was the one for her after all. But there was no victory in fear. He had always known as much. It had simply taken a night of backsliding inhibitions to remind him.

Now he knew: If he was to win her over, he’d need to actually fight.

Ignoring his mother’s questions, Seymour got himself dressed. A shirt and tie that varied from his usual attire, pulled together with a suit jacket that he saved for special occasions. He’d thought that the need for it would never arise again - but really, he’d just been afraid to pull it out, worried that he’d ruin the one good jacket he had. But tonight, he wanted to make it count. And he knew just the way to do it.

At least he hoped.

Despite his sudden surge of courage as he left the house and made his way to his car - still ignoring his mother’s upset tone - he still had his doubts. What if it didn’t make a difference? What if his bravery only further solidified Erin’s desire to go with another man?

No, he reasoned. She wouldn’t.

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

His first stop was the school, though he needed to stay inconspicuous, lest someone believe that he was playing hooky. He parked his car around the side of the building and pulled out his phone, sending a quick message which received a quick reply in return.

[ Hell yeah. ]

It took a few moments before Seymour was able to glance up and see the plague doctor - or nurse, as it were - hopping right out of the window in the nurse’s office and fumble down into the bushes. He booked it across the lawn and to the pavement where Skinner’s car was idling, hopping into the passenger seat with a clear display of energy that Seymour had to envy. Charlie didn’t look tired in the least. Maybe he was just more practiced at being out and about at all hours of the night.

“You figure out what you wanna do?” Charlie asked, rubbing his gloved hands together conspiratorially.

“Yes. But I need you to babysit Scottie, otherwise I’ll never get her out of the house,” Seymour responded, reversing the car out of its secret parking spot and pulling away from the school. Luckily, they’d been able to get away unscathed. Hopefully no students would need the nurse for the rest of the day… They’d need to rely on Doris’s greasy hands to bandage them up in the meantime.

“I can do that.” Charlie set about removing his disguise and tossing it in the backseat of Skinner’s car. He’d retrieve it the next day when they both resumed their normal lives. “Whatcha got planned?”

“First, I want to take her shopping for something nice. Then, I want to take her to this… show I heard about last night while we were out. One of the ‘cool’ guys there handed me this.” With a little bit of fidgeting to find it, he pulled out a folded piece of paper and offered it to the hybrid who took it with interest. Unfolding it, Charlie gave a little snort of amusement.

“Doesn’t seem your style,” he said, glancing down at the flyer which showed a scribbled cartoony personification of what he imagined was some sort of indie punk band, as well as the details of when and where they would be playing. “But she might get a kick out of it, as long as she’s with you.”

Seymour did his best to not be offended. “Then, a dinner somewhere… I haven’t decided yet, but I wanted that to lead into us taking a walk around one of the nicer neighborhoods to look at the lights. Maybe one of the ones where they have those stupid competitions where people really go all out and… run up their electricity bills, I imagine.”

“Casual dinner then,” Charlie offered up. “Something you can walk and talk with. Nothing that needs plates.”

“Food truck food?” Skinner asked, eyebrows raised slightly as though he’d just come up with the suggestion.

“Food truck food.”

“That solves that problem then. I was a little worried we’d GET to that part and I still wouldn’t know what to do.”

Charlie gave the man a little ‘tsk’. “Even if you don’t know what you’re doing, you gotta pretend like you at least have SOME idea. The point is to make the whole night effortless. Not to the point where you seem like… overly anal about scheduling, but so that she knows that you’re actually having a good time. And NOT thinking about what could go wrong.”

“...Right. Okay. I’ll try to remember that.”

“Good.”

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

Even after they arrived at Erin’s, Charlie had to take a moment to keep Seymour from outright panicking. One pep talk later, and both of them exited the car and made their way to Erin’s doorstep. The hybrid offered Skinner an enthusiastic thumbs up. You got this, the gesture said. Don’t even worry about it.

Swallowing back his fear, Seymour rang the doorbell, hoping to God that his knees wouldn’t lock him in place as the door opened and Erin herself answered, balancing her daughter Scottie on her hip.

“Seymour! Charlie?” Surprise and then confusion decorated her features. “Isn’t it a school day? What are you two doing here?”

Seymour was silent for a moment too long, spurred into responding by Charlie’s elbow right in his ribcage.

“Oh! Uh. Well. You see- I had been hoping that you would uh… Join me! I have some plans for this evening for the two of us if… you’re interested.” Seymour floundered obviously with his words, though thankfully, the hybrid kept his mouth shut and didn’t make it worse by calling him out on it.

“And of course,” Charlie offered up, strolling past Seymour and scooping Scottie right up and into his arms. She squealed excitedly, immediately beginning to clamber up and towards his ears which she enjoyed tugging on from time to time. “The best babysitter in the world is here to keep an eye on this little animal.”

“Are- you sure?” Erin asked, taken aback by the suddenness of the proposition. She wasn’t exactly dressed for an evening out, having mostly spent the day in pajama pants and an old t-shirt, but… she seemed to be struggling with at all considering giving Seymour a ‘no.’

“Positive. You two go on and have fun and Scottie and I will have a rager with at least six different types of liquor.” If Charlie’s smug grin didn’t give away the fact that he was joking, Scottie’s sudden yank on his ear would have. He wheezed a little, but maintained his expression. Kids. Adorable.

“O-okay! Well. Erm. Come in, Seymour, let me go and change!” Erin scooted aside to allow Seymour to step in which he did with some awkwardness, shutting the door behind them for the time being and watching as she fled down the hall to get herself into a different outfit. While he waited, Skinner stood fiddling with his tie. Nervous. But at least she hadn’t given him a no! That was… something!

“Hey,” Charlie muttered to the man in a bit of a whisper, still trying to wrangle Scottie in his arms. “Relax. You like her, right? Act like it!”

Seymour cleared his throat and replied under his breath. “Right. Right. Yes. Okay.”

When Erin returned, Seymour found himself at a bit of a loss for words. Her outfit was simple - a warm looking sweater and jeans with a comfortable coat that seemed to be perfect for the late Fall weather that crept in towards the later hours of the evening. But she had a tendency to make even that look… great. God, he was smitten.

He shook himself out of his daze after a moment, offering her a little smile. “Well… I’m ready if you are.”

She nodded, returning his smile with one of her own that was certainly not lacking in enthusiasm. This whole date had been unexpected, but welcome. And even though she paused briefly to give Charlie a few instructions on where Scottie’s dinner was and what time to put her to bed, she was quick to return all of her attention on Seymour as they left the house and headed for his car.

“I’m kind of glad you came by, actually…” Erin said once they got inside and Seymour began to pull away. His movements were a little stiff, but he’d settled himself down some now that he’d managed to get a yes. “I’ve been wanting to see you, but I wasn’t sure how busy you were with your schedule and after school meetings and everything…”

“After school meetings can be rescheduled,” he replied without thinking too hard about it. “I’m sure I can sneak away early on some days, if you’d like me to.”

“Wouldn’t that get you into trouble?” She fretted, slightly, her mind venturing to what Chalmers might think if Seymour made a habit of slipping off right when the bell rang.

“Being Principal has to come with some perks, right?”

Erin laughed a little, the very sound of which made Seymour smile. He couldn’t help it. Despite his worries and anxieties, it felt fantastic to make her laugh.

“Alright,” she said, changing the subject and eyeing Seymour with excitement. “Tell me what you’ve got planned.”

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

He’d forgotten the holidays were right around the corner. Of course. Stupid Seymour.

The mall was mostly packed and both he and Erin were finding it very hard to navigate from one store to another. She seemed to be a good sport about it, having been flattered at his offer to buy her a nice thing or two and doing her best to guide him around the throngs of other shoppers that seemed determined to purchase their holiday gifts even if it meant throwing an elbow or two. He had to keep from grumbling to himself about it, choosing instead to keep eyes on Erin as they walked. Even temperamental crowds of strangers wouldn’t put a damper on his mood. Not when he was with her.

“You know,” she began when they’d hopped between a few different stores without leaving with any purchases in hand. “I’m honestly… terrible at picking things out for myself.” She was sheepish about it, trying not to appear ungrateful as she pulled him aside where they wouldn’t be run over by passersby. “And… really, most of my shopping I do online. We really don’t have to go shopping for me right now… Especially not with all these other people here.”

Seymour frowned slightly. “Are you sure?” He asked. For once, he’d been able to save up a few hundred dollars for a rainy day. Surely, this was something worth spending it on. She was worth spending it on. But he wasn’t interested in making her feel… guilty. And really, he was dying to get back out and into the cool afternoon air that wasn’t stifled by hundreds of others fighting over the new iPhone.

Erin had been about to nod in reply, but paused to glance behind Seymour for a moment. She realized then that they were standing across the walkway from the Stuff N’ Hug. And though she was not great at picking out gifts for herself…

“Actually…” she said, grinning just a little. “I know something you can get for Scottie~.”

Seymour turned and followed her gaze, swallowing back the tiniest bit of fear as he spied the Stuff N’ Hug which was buzzing with activity. Parents and little kids alike fluttered back and forth, participating in the bizarre ritual of stuffing empty plushies and getting a ‘birth’ certificate to prove it. Not that he was afraid to look silly or anything, but… Navigating what looked to be like a small room full of toddlers was not his forte. Still. He was being asked. He’d need to nut up or shut up.

“Do you know which one she’d want most?”

Erin seemed to think on that, squinting to get a decent view of what the store had for display in the window. “Oh! The frog!” She replied, pointing to a particularly bright neon-colored amphibian that sat, a little forgotten, behind the various other plushies in the window. “Those are her favorite.”

“Okay. The frog it is.” Seymour took in a breath and steeled himself, his tone taking on a serious timbre that made Erin give a little quiet giggle. “You stay here. I’m going in.”

Seymour trudged across the walkway, narrowly avoiding being trampled by families of twelve or more that were making their way to the nearby food court and managing to arrive at the storefront mostly in one piece. Inside, there were even more obstacles to navigate: toddlers that were running around mostly unsupervised, parents that were struggling to keep their place in the checkout line, and tired workers that seemed to want to be literally anywhere else. Seymour didn’t pay any of them any mind. His goal was that frog. But when he got within a few inches of grabbing it, the stuffed animal was snatched up by another man, quick to offer Skinner a smirk of victory.

“Excuse me,” Seymour began, eyeing the man with clear disdain. “I was reaching for that frog first.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. It was in my hands first.” The other man gloated, waving the pre-stuffed plushie around as he did so. “Too bad, so sad.”

Seymour frowned, his expression serious and determined. “Yes, but you see, I need that frog.”

“So do I,” the stranger said, turning away with a haughty laugh.

Though Seymour might have, at some other time, let him get away with it, he was loath to do so this time around. Especially not with Erin waiting eagerly across the walkway and with the knowledge that… those were Scottie’s favorite.

Taking advantage of the crowd around them - all of which were too preoccupied with their own shopping to pay either of them much mind - Seymour reached to grasp the man by the shoulder and whirl him back around, his gaze threatening and voice kept low, but no less intense. “Listen, you. That frog belongs to me. And you are going to give it to me if you don’t want to be shipped out of here in a Stuff N’ Hug body bag.”

The other man stared at him with wide eyes, eventually shoving the frog into Seymour’s hands. “Okay, okay! Jeez.” Apparently being threatened over a frog was not on his list of things to do that day.

Seymour, pleased with the victory, released the other man and let him go on his way. Even if that way meant that the man was going to continue shooting him with glares from across the store. Skinner didn’t seem to mind, holding the frog close to him as he made his way through the check-out line and eventually back out of the store, the stuffed frog nestled safely in a little cardboard box home, made perfectly for it. He was a little disheveled as he returned back to Erin, pausing briefly to try and smooth some of his hair back into place.

“One frog for Scottie,” he said as he held it out to her, an accomplished smile on his features.

“I saw that you almost had to throw hands for it,” Erin replied, taking the box graciously from him. “You totally didn’t have to do that!”

Seymour grinned a little sheepishly, knowing full well that if he’d been arrested for getting into a fight at the Stuff N’ Hug, it would’ve made for a pretty poor date story later on. But it had been worth the risk. “Well… I mean…” He struggled to come up with words, but soon found that he didn’t need to. Leaning up on her toes, Erin pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, causing his face to redden as he cleared his throat, trying not to fall over entirely.

“I’m glad you did,” she said.

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

Leaving the stuffy confines of the mall was a relief, Seymour thought as they breathed in the cool, yet comfortable Fall air. It wasn’t too chilly out - just enough to need a jacket - but he figured it was much better than being trapped amongst the throngs of holiday shoppers. The frog he’d obtained for Scottie was now sitting comfortably in the backseat of his car, waiting to be taken back to Erin’s while they stepped away to the partially outdoor venue. The band he’d heard of was playing - some form of punk music that Seymour wasn’t explicitly into, but it was more than adequate background noise to keep the moments of silence between he and Erin from feeling overly oppressive.

“I don’t think I’ve heard of them before,” Erin said as they drifted over to where the small stage was harboring at least five of the six band members. They weren’t very close, preferring to stand away from what they assumed were the ‘hardcore’ groupies that grouped around at the foot of the stage. But they were close to the bar. “But I can see the appeal. Do you wanna get a drink?”

Seymour nodded, recalling the buzzy haze he and Charlie had mostly been in the previous night, and content with the idea that if he were to repeat the event - except this time, with Erin by his side - that would be just fine. Even if they weren’t exactly at a rave this time around. “I imagine they don’t exactly have scotch here,” he commented as they approached the bartender who looked to be at least twenty years younger than Seymour. He eyed the bottles behind the counter skeptically, but he wouldn’t let his hesitation keep him from enjoying himself.

“Too fancy to just have a beer?” Erin teased, nudging Seymour gently.

“Of course not!” He balked, shaking his head in embarrassment and addressing the hipster bartender who probably put more grooming into his strange mustache than the rest of him put together. “One beer, please.”

“What kind,” the bartender replied dryly.

Seymour went silent, glancing around for some help or some indication of what kind he should choose. Meanwhile, Erin laughed, trying not to embarass him further, but likely failing.

“Just give us two Duffs,” she offered to the bartender. “We probably don’t need to make it complicated.”

Breathing out a little sigh of relief, Seymour allowed her to sort of take the lead on that one, placing down the few bills to cover the drinks before they were in hand and both he and Erin could step back towards the small crowd that had gathered. The deep thrum of the bass was comforting to him, somehow, and though the music was loud, it wasn’t to the point where he couldn’t have a conversation over it if he tried hard enough.

“We don’t need to stay here the whole time,” he said to Erin, hoping that he wasn’t forcing her to remain watching a band that she wasn’t enjoying. “I have other things in mind for tonight. But I figured this was a nice… segue into the evening. That’s all.”

Sipping at her drink, Erin seemed to not skip a beat, shaking her head and replying with encouragement. “No, it’s fine! I’m liking this. It’s not exactly something I would have found on my own, but you know me. I like to try new things. But, if I’m being honest… This definitely doesn’t seem like your style. Where’d you hear about them?”

Seymour cleared his throat, taking his time in trying to come up with an explanation. He couldn’t really say that he’d pulled the flyer off of a light pole while he was walking down the street, now could he? That seemed… too hard to believe.

“Well… Charlie and I had an after school meeting yesterday. It went a bit late and as we were walking afterwards, he pointed it out.” It was much easier to blame the hybrid. The band seemed like something that would appeal to him. Maybe. At least more so than it did Seymour. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to check it out. Maybe stay a while. See if it was something you’d like.” He added the snippet at the end, quickly occupying himself with a drink of his beer to keep from sounding like he was trying too hard to impress her. Of course, he was. But that didn’t mean he wanted it to come across so obviously.

“Oh so it was Charlie’s idea, huh?” She said, lifting an eyebrow inquisitively. It always felt like she saw right through him. And maybe she did. But Seymour was going to pretend otherwise, nodding in return.

“The band was. It was my idea to bring you to see them,” Seymour responded defensively. He didn’t need Charlie taking credit for the actual date too. The smarmy lizard was charming enough without Skinner’s help.

Erin laughed again, sending Seymour’s heart aflutter once more. His mouth tilted upwards into a smile that he couldn’t fight, taking a step closer to Erin as a result as her laugh tapered off and she pressed her shoulder against him in turn. He wasn’t entirely sure if she felt it in the same way that he did, but he was pretty sure he was going to overheat, despite the cool air around them. She had a tendency to have that effect on him, no matter what they were doing or where they were. As he focused his attention on both her and the heavy thrum of the bass guitar, he was reminded of that familiar feeling of slowly cracking inhibitions, his hesitation melting away in that moment as he gazed down at her and imagined instead what it might have been like had he stolen away with Erin in the middle of the night to a muggy basement rave. Maybe she wouldn’t have taken to the idea… But he could dream.

Even if the music wasn’t particularly to his tastes, Seymour let himself enjoy it for the time being, sipping intermittently at his beer as more people drifted into the venue, crowding around the bar for drinks and wandering closer to the stage to get a look at who was playing. He was relaxing as time passed, though he couldn’t help but consider what time it was. The sun was beginning to set earlier this time of year, and once it had disappeared beneath the horizon, it would be perfect timing for them to make their way out and to the neighborhood that he’d picked out for them to see the lights. It was the perfect scenery for what he intended to do after that, though he had been trying his best not to focus on his end goal, for fear of overthinking it. He did that too often for comfort.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that Erin was beginning to step back and away from the bulk of the crowd, reaching out to snag his sleeve and tug him back with her. He was confused, but followed, settling back against the wall of the nearby building with her as she breathed out a little sigh.

“Sorry. I feel better when we’re not… crowded by a bunch of other people,” she said. “Besides, it’s a little easier to talk when we’re not so close to the speakers.” Hesitating very briefly, she continued. “And um.. It’s also a little easier to not be so obvious about… being a little more in your space.”

Seymour blinked, almost not understanding before it clicked and he sputtered a little, embarrassed that he hadn’t realized. “...You can be as obvious as you want. I’m sure nobody here would mind…” Or maybe they would. He certainly wouldn’t though. “Actually… if you want to have more time for just… us, I think I can make that happen. We definitely don’t have to stay just because.”

Tilting her head to the side curiously, Erin leaned away from the wall to face him properly. “If you’re offering, I’m not gonna say no, but… I just figured since you planned this too and all…”

Scoffing, Seymour gestured to the band on the stage. “Are you kidding? I don’t even know these people.” He opted to take advantage of the brief moment of courage to take her hand in his free one, guiding her over to the bar where they left their glasses and then to the entrance they’d come in earlier. “Come on. I’ve got something much better to show you anyway.”

Her hand was incredibly warm in his as he led her back out to the car, pausing to open the passenger door for her, but not immediately letting it go. He didn’t want to. Her soft fingers in his larger, somewhat calloused hands were like a spark of electricity that he wanted to experience over and over. But as he closed the door behind her and went around to the driver’s seat, he knew that it was a sensation that he’d have to make happen again. No waiting for her to do it. Tonight was about taking charge. Like he had with the frog. Remember the frog.

That little neon frog would give him strength.

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

About an hour later, that chilly evening air had turned a little more frigid, though not to the point where he might have turned tail and said they should call it a night. No, he was more determined than that, adjusting the small taco in his hands to make sure none of its contents were to unceremoniously fall out onto the sidewalk. Erin strolled alongside him, perfectly content with her food, munching happily as her attention drifted from it up to the lights around them, shielding them in a warm glow that made him feel like Christmas really was just a day or two away. There was a month yet to go, but Seymour felt like the winter break was already underway and he had no responsibilities beyond simply existing for the brief two weeks between Christmas and New Years. Maybe it had something to do with how just walking in happy silence with Erin at his side made him feel as though nothing could possibly go wrong, contrary to… almost anything else in his life, really.

“God, I’d give anything to have this much disposable income,” Erin said once she’d finished her taco and had begun to fully admire the decorations as they passed by. “Can you imagine dropping hundreds of dollars just for the outside of your house? I mean, the inside is enough for me to deal with, let alone all of these extra things… But I guess once you dedicate yourself to it one year, the rest of the neighborhood doesn’t let you stop.”

“Mother would never let me put this many lights up,” Seymour replied, gesturing to one of the homes as they passed. “She says it draws too much unnecessary attention. She doesn’t want a bunch of ‘hoodlums’ coming by to ‘gawk’ at them.”

“That’s a shame.” Erin had little to say on the topic of Seymour’s mother, and he didn’t fault her for it. By now, she was surely tired of him mentioning her at all. She’d said, once or twice - and in the kindness way she could possibly manage - that their relationship was not a healthy one. And he’d said that he’d work on it. But little had improved since then. He had been loath to mention her since then. But still… old habits die hard.

“But… you know,” he continued. “It might be worth upsetting her once or twice if it means that I can get a little more festive around the holidays.”

Erin’s expression made it obvious that she appreciated the effort. But he could tell that a part of her still felt somewhat sorry for him. “I might be able to use some help around my house in the next week or so, putting up a few extra things on the outside. If you’d like to lend a hand.” She smiled and he knew that the offer was genuine. Not just out of pity. In truth, he would take any excuse to spend more time with her. Even if it meant getting on top of a ladder and risking his neck to string up some lights just to make her happy.

“I think I can probably manage that. I’m a pretty good handyman, you know~”

His proclamation was probably dampened by the fact that the contents of his taco did indeed flop out of their tortilla wrapper and onto the pavement. Not exactly the smoothest move he ever made. Thankfully, Erin held back her laughter this time as he swiftly scooted the mess off of the sidewalk and onto the pavement of the street where it would hopefully get finished off by bugs or birds or… whoever.

“I’ll take your word for it. But I’m sure we can manage it together.” She scooted closer, taking his hand this time in hers and forcing him to inwardly curse himself. Damn. She’d found the boldness to do it before he did. Which just meant that he’d have to make up for it. Somewhere. Somewhere…

All around them, the houses were getting progressively fancier. Large, luxurious displays that surely had taken a professional in their setup. Seymour couldn’t imagine any normal homeowner with a day job would have the time or energy to create and organize such in depth lighting structures. Maybe he was a little bit jealous. He rarely had time or energy to spare. But that wasn’t his focus. Instead, he was searching for just the right spot. Waiting for just the right moment. Somewhere in the distance, the soft melody of Christmas music was floating from one of the nearby houses. And he could swear that if the weather got any colder, that they might be in for some snow. The atmosphere couldn’t have been more perfect. But where? When? Despite the chill, he was beginning to sweat.

“...Are you alright, Seymour?”

Her question shook him out of his mild panic, glancing down at her worried gaze that was focusing solely on him as they walked. Only… he wasn’t walking anymore. He’d stopped entirely, her hand still holding his. Now he looked even more foolish. But despite his attempt to assuage both his and her fears, he couldn’t swallow back the panic that was beginning to creep up the back of his throat.

“I uh-...” He began, but was unable to find the words to continue. What was wrong with him? Was he really so nervous that he couldn’t even find it in himself to be normal? And walk with her like normal people did? Was he really so scared?

No, he realized. This was something else. Something he knew entirely too well, having only experienced it in totally dissimilar circumstances. He’d thought himself immune to sudden panic attacks in such a calm and serene environment, but with his anxiety levels spiking throughout the evening and his heart doing strange loop-de-loops in his chest, he knew that he’d really set himself up for it. He should have been focusing more heavily on staying calm; on maintaining his composure. But it was too late now.

“I… I need to sit,” he wheezed, realizing that his legs were shaky and very nearly collapsed underneath him as he sunk down to the curb, clinging somewhat tightly to her hand as he did so. He didn’t want to hurt her, and once he was certain that he was at least not going to fall from a standing position, he released her hand and buried his face in his own. “Sorry- I…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the statement. The words wouldn’t come, and not just out of nervousness then. He was struggling to breathe now, his chest heaving as he tried his best to come down from the height of the panic and failing miserably.

“It’s okay!” She replied in a quick, but gentle tone as she followed him down to sit right next to him. Concern and fear was in her eyes, but he couldn’t see it. Couldn’t look at anything just then, intent on letting the darkness from having his eyes closed be the only thing he saw. The less visual stimuli his racing mind had to rely on, the more it would - hopefully - settle. But as he counted the seconds between his inhales and exhales - an old trick he’d taught himself for just such an occasion - he felt her hand soft against his back, between his shoulder blades. She rubbed gently, quiet for the time being and just letting him ride the wave.

“Take your time,” Erin continued, glancing around to see if anyone was approaching. But no one was. He was thankful that was the case. He didn’t need strangers witnessing his breakdown on top of everything else. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The words were reassuring, but they didn’t stem the tide of what was already happening. It took several long minutes - minutes he was sure he would look back on later and hate himself for wasting - before he could feel his heartbeat beginning to slow. It wasn’t perfect. The steady thump was still painful in his chest, having only just stopped hammering. But it was progress. And as he slowly lifted his head to allow himself to take in the world around himself again, Seymour realized that there was a tear or two at the corner of his eye. He hastily brought a hand up to wipe it away, ashamed of himself for letting it get that bad, so quickly.

When he could finally speak, his words were tired and little more than a murmur. But the hand against his back felt like a much needed brace, and he let it soothe him. Her touch was always soothing. Even if it took him a few minutes to come back down to a level where he could truly appreciate it.

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t expect for that to happen.” Seymour’s voice was groggy and tired. Panic attacks always did wear him out. It was as if he’d been running at a sprint for a full five minutes straight and was only now allowed to breathe. His chest would continue to ache for some time. “I just started thinking about… too many things at once and it has a tendency to… become a bit overwhelming. I didn’t mean to drag you down into it.”

Erin shook her head, reaching to place her free hand atop his, the warmth of her palm reminding him that he would be okay. “You absolutely did not drag me into anything. I’m glad I was here to at least sit with you until you were okay again. Was it something we did or… something I said…?” Guilt was evident in her tone and Seymour suddenly felt a pang somewhere in his heart. Not the aftershocks of his panic attack; but an aching sensation. A fear that she could ever possibly consider that anything she’d do - or had ever done - would in some way hurt him.

Resolute, he took her hand in his and brought his other to gently wrap both of his around her fingers securely. Like he was treasuring that hand of hers. And maybe he was. It had been her touch that brought him back around, after all.

“Never,” Seymour said, his tired, still slightly watery eyes staring down at their joined hands. “It was nothing you said or did. I just… I let my fears get the best of me. Like I always do.” He sighed, shame still coloring his vision and making him unable to look her in the eye. “I’ve been so wrapped up all evening in how to tell you what I’ve wanted to tell you for so long now and… It just… Scared me. And I know it shouldn’t. Because I’ve never been more sure about something in my whole life, and yet…” Trailing off, he was unsure of how to finish his sentence.

“Seymour…” Erin murmured almost sadly, like she was still faulting herself. The wistful way she spoke his name was killing him.

Why was he so afraid? Why couldn’t he step up and be a man for once? And just TELL her.

Just tell her.

“Maybe I should say something first,” she eventually said as the seconds dragged on, his silence feeling almost like an undefeatable villain at that point. But he listened, still not quite looking up at her for fear that whatever was coming would not be good.

He was vaguely aware that a gentle, quiet frost had begun to flutter down from the dark sky. But that didn’t really matter to him just then.

Erin spoke again, her voice quiet but not because she was timid. It was as though what she had to say was… intimate. Meant only for him. He could hope. “This whole evening I’ve been sort of… trying to tell you how I feel. At the mall and when we were watching the band and when we were waiting in line for food and… and just now when we were walking, but… I guess I just couldn’t figure out the right time. But I didn’t want you to think that I was… specifically not telling you on purpose.” She fiddled with her hair nervously, though at least, he thought, she wasn’t having a nervous breakdown.

“Erin-” he began, only to be interrupted by her.

“No, let… let me finish. Look, I- This whole evening I’ve just wanted to come out and tell you. That I love you. I wanted to tell you totally in public and… like it was the most casual thing in the world and like you already knew, but it just… felt like a big deal! And I couldn’t get it out! But- I just did. So. There.” Her face was red, both from the cold and from the confession. But all Seymour could do was stare at her. Taken aback that it had not only had it not been him to make the first admission, but she had been just as nervous and flighty as he had!

“I- You- You’re… not upset that I didn’t say it first?” He blurted out, realizing that it probably wasn’t the most ideal response to having someone tell you that they loved you, but… He couldn’t help it. That was where his mind was at.

“...Why would I be? There’s not really a rule that says you’re required to…” Erin didn’t quite get his meaning. “I mean I know I sometimes wish you’d be a little more assertive with certain things… Your mother, for one… But that… doesn’t really apply to something as important as this. I don’t think that should be… one person’s responsibility or anything.” She mumbled the words at the end, a little embarrassed that he hadn’t said it in return at all. It was only after a few moments had passed that he came to the same conclusion.

“I am so stupid,” he exhaled, his shoulders slumping a bit in what was both relief and exhaustion. “This whole time I’ve been putting so much stock on being able to pick just the right moment; just the right place. I had it in mind that… if I didn’t say it first that you… would think less of me.”

“That is pretty stupid,” Erin replied, the smallest of smiles appearing on her features.

“I know. I know that now. And you know what else I know?”

“What?” She feigned obliviousness. Sure that she knew what was coming, but enjoying the mild suspense anyway.

Releasing her hand, Seymour brought both of his up to gently frame her face, his gaze finally meeting hers. His heart was still beating quickly, though it was much less painful now. His panic had given way to a soft haze of exhausted contentment. He was sure his hands were a bit cool as snow began to settle on them both where they sat, but she didn’t seem to mind. Even as her face reddened further in a deep blush that he would have to remember.

“That today has really only reinforced the fact that I love you too. I’m not sure anyone else would have put up with me for as long as you have. Even when I plan terrible last minute dates, almost fight a man for a neon frog, take you to see a band that no one’s ever heard of, drop a taco in the street, or break down in the middle of a neighborhood that is way above my income level.” He was only really partially joking. But it was nice to hear that laugh of hers again, her eyes reflecting the soothing glow of the lights around them. “Despite all that… Just to have you here, in this moment… It’s all worth it.”

No more hesitation. Leaning forward he pressed his lips gently to hers, doing his best to keep himself from smiling as he felt her return the gesture, closing the distance between them. If the chill didn’t choose that exact moment to send snowflakes on the breeze to settle in their hair, he could have kept kissing her forever. But he wouldn’t keep her out in the cold all night. The idea of getting somewhere warm where he could hold her much closer was all too enticing.

They stayed there for a few more moments as the kiss broke, Seymour’s hand gently caressing her cheek before he was able to scoot himself up to stand again. His legs no longer felt like jelly, making it much easier for him to help her up to her feet. His moment of assertiveness came when he offered to take her back home and stay for a few hours.

When they returned back to Erin’s, Seymour allowed her to lead the way inside, removing his coat at the door and taking hers as well. In the living room, they found Charlie sprawled out on the couch, Scottie sleeping soundly on his chest. Both were seemingly knocked out, having had what looked to be a… very entertaining evening, if the number of books, toys, and impromptu arts and crafts projects scattered about the place were any indication. Erin fought the urge to laugh and wake them both, instead leaning down to scoop Scottie up so she could place her into her room to sleep a little more comfortably. Meanwhile, Seymour stared oddly at Charlie who seemed to be quiet content on the couch. Like he was having the sleep of his life.

“Let him sleep,” Erin whispered as she returned. “I’m sure he doesn’t get to be this comfortable, usually.”

She motioned for Seymour to follow her to the bedroom where they could shut the door behind them, giving the hybrid his privacy and taking their own for themselves. A few hours would eventually turn into more-than-a-few, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms to fight off the cold that threatened to creep in from the window. And by then, Seymour opted to take initiative and stay the whole night.

He imagined she wouldn’t say no.

#tj writes #the simpsons #rinnysega #oc #simpsona #THIS ONE'S A LONG ONE KIDS #HOPE U ALL ENJOY IT #It's super cute #im die

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