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wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

Hiii I really love your work! Could you write about Tom secretly or not secretly watching yoi have a Zoom Uni class? And maybe he teases you in a way, trying to make you laugh or he sends you text messages or something? And later when you're done and he has a meeting,you tease him right back?

Hope you're having a lovely day 💞

a/n hey anon!! this was a really cute idea but I have another req for the vice versa bit, so only did the first half in this- I hope u don't mind :)

warnings: implied smut at the end but rlly just a fluffy cringe fest

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Early mornings where never you’re favourite and this one wasn’t an exception to the rule. The LA sun was flooding through the curtains that had been hurriedly thrown almost-closed last night as you huffed into the duvet. You needed to get up - but you definitely didn’t want to. To be fair, you’d only arrived the day before and were still acclimatising to the jet lag - though Tom’s presence certainly made everything alot easier.

Especially as you’d been without him for so long, the pandemic meaning you hadn’t been able to make the long-weekend trips you usually would’ve. So when at the beginning of may, Tom had offered for you to come out and stay with him for half the summer (while he was busy working). There was only really one answer…. free holiday with the absolute specimen of a human who you call your boyfriend? Yes please.

It did mean though, that you had flown out before the end of the semester. Only by a week and it didn’t make much difference because you only had a few zoom lectures - but they were compulsory. So even if you were living in the US, you had to follow your UK school timetable. Hence why you had to get up at 6:30, to make your UK time 14:30 lecture.

The arms around you seemed to have other ideas, huffing and only pulling you tighter when you tried to wriggle out of his embrace. You groaned in annoyance, mainly because he was making it more and more tempting to stay huddled up against him.

“Toooooommm I gotta get up” Clearly not agreeing, he just squeezed you to his chest tighter, whilst emphatically shaking his head - all with his eyes still firmly pressed shut.

“Let go! I have a lecture!” Still not letting up , he just shook his head once again - making his bed hair especially wild as it dragged against the linen pillows.

With a sigh you turned in his death grip, now being able to see his puffy morning eyes pressed firmly shut. First you arched up and pressed a soft kiss to his chin, then jaw and then nose.

“Seriously T, I need to show up to this one.” Because yes, you might’ve already had an absence from yesterday, where you had both slept through the alarm.

“-o it-’” Croaking so much so you couldn’t even puzzle out what he said, the man cleared his throat before trying again, the sound reverberating in his chest. “ uhmm do it from bed, don’t go.”

That had you pouting at his cuteness. Ever since you’d arrived he’d been unbelievable clingy to you, barely letting you out of his sight. You showered together; he sat and stared whilst you did your skin care routine; even at restaurants he insisted on sitting next to you with his hand on your knee. When you had asked him, the only reasoning you got was a shrug and a muttered ‘I missed you’. Never, ever would you complain about Tom’s attention. But…. you really needed to get to your laptop.

“I can’t babe thats not very profess-“

“-wont even be able to tell.”

As much as you tried, you couldn’t ever really deny Tom anything. Not when he cracked his eyelids open, revealing the softest warm brown eyes, coupled with a lazy smile. So yes, you ended up quickly getting changed into one of Toms old burgundy tops, running a brush through your frizzy hair and then clambering back into bed. You balanced your laptop on a tray on top of a box, so the angle was less obvious that your backdrop was a headboard. Instantly Tom had half-asleep turned over to lay his messy head on your lap. And with a half sigh half laugh, you logged on- once in the waiting room bringing a hand down to trail your nails through Tom’s hair which made him groan with delight.

It was all going so well too, up the point where breakout rooms were announced and you had to talk - your chipper voice and laughs with your course mates rousing Tom from his sleep. Every time he almost lifted his head into the view of the webcam, you were very quick to slam it back down, forcing him back onto your lap.

Eventually he got bored of the restrictions, as well as not being very into the history module you were all puzzling over- so slid out of bed into the shower. Once he was gone you did almost sigh in relief, you had thought that Tom in his friendly-idiot manner would end up getting you caught at some point. Especially as our relationship was so secretive, none of your course mates knew you weren’t single - imagine their shock if an a lister popped up in the zoom class.

But oh, the relief did not last long at all.

The issue was Harry had gone out for the day. It was just you and Tom in his fancy rented LA house. And, as mentioned, Tom was being clingy as hell. It couldn’t of been more than 20 minutes before the fluffy haired brunette was back in the room - pouting when he saw you still on the computer.

Even though you shooed him away, Tom just cocked his head to one side, a small smirk on his face. And you knew. You knew he was going to be a little shit. He slinked over the bed, perching at the foot next to where your feet lay.The warning look you shot him, metaphorical daggers coming out your eye did absolutely nothing - you watched his hand pin your right ankle down before stroking the sole of your foot. Familiar shivers shot up your leg and it took everything in you to not kick out, launching the laptop across the room as tickled you.

Soon though he stopped, you pulled yourself into a cross legged position, readjusting the laptop and trying to concentrate back on the lecturer. Seeing your disinterest, Tom hopped up off the bed and you thought he was leaving. But no. No you were wrong. He just stood at the foot of the bed, hands on hips as he appeared to listen intently to the lecturer too.

Clearly Tom was an actor, he was pretty good at accents. You should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to resist the impersonating your academic staff - who happened to have a strong Somerset accent.

Pretending to ignore Tom as he hunched up and widened his stance - to imagine the physicality of your lecturer- you narrowed your eyes at the computer screen. Then though, a deep booming farmer-like voice came out your well spoken south london boy - god you were glad you’d stuck the mute button on as soon as he had entered.

“And then as your reading in chapter twel-“

“And then as yowr readinf in chapter twelve….” Tom echoed the lecturer loud and proud, making it completely impossible for you to attempt to concentrate. As much as you wanted to be furious at him- well, all it took was one look.

He was holding his face in some sort of duck pout and all the movements were extra pronounced and exaggerated. You couldn’t help it- instantly you burst out laughing, having to turn off the video for fear of anyone noticing.

Seeing he’d got a rise out of you, Tom was only spurred on, continuing the dramatic acting with a new found confidence. That was until you got yourself under control, face turning like a switch from joy to fury.

“Shut the hell up!”

And he did, for a few minutes, whilst pouting like a told-off toddler. In a strop, he sat down, shoulders slumped at the edge of the bed. Oh how wrong your were, when you thought you’d won - with a satisfied smile concentrating back on the laptop screen. Just in time to hear the lecturer FINALLY starting to rounding up the lecture.

“Alright so next session we’re-“ Before he’d even stammered his way to the end of the sentence, Tom’s face had switched up once again - into one of mischief as he started crawling up the bed either-side of your legs. One strong arm reached out to touch the back of your laptop lid and before you could protest he was pushing it down, till it landed with a small ‘clunk’.

“You did not just do that!” Yelling at him, you sat up so now he was kneeling across your lap.

“But I just did.” He mimed a mic drop which had you cringing hard, staring at him in disbelief. Okay the lecturer was beginning to round off, but that conclusion could’ve gone on for 5 minutes at least!

“Oh you are so in for it Holland.”

You’d meant it as a threat, as a sort of ‘I’m-going-to-make-your-life-a-living-hell” but the bright eyed boy before you had other plans. Wordlessly he nodded, then placed your laptop on the bedside ; then pushed you down on the bed. His legs either side of you, his arms like rockets to pin yours either side your head.

“Ah but you see my love…” he tutted, with a wide smile, hhis breath fanning down onto you as he took your breath away. “That is exactly what I want.” Immediately his lips were on yours, the both of you fighting for dominance as you arched your head up to get extra purchase on him.

“I hate… I hate you… so bloody much” It was hard to talk when his intoxicating lips were moving against yours, melting away all your resistance.

“Hmmm… well its… its a good thing… that I love you.”

He was impossible and no doubt you’d missed the prep work for tomorrows lecture. But having him there, body pressed against yours, after months apart.

Well, you wouldn’t mind failing the module for him.

~~~~ let me know what you think <333~~~~

tag list : @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom Holland imagine #peter parker #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland angst

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raisinghellonstarbug · 3 years

Text

Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You - A James Acaster x Reader Story

Basic plot: The year is 2019, and life has been quite dull for you since working in a job that you hate for the past two years after graduating from university. You used to do stand up comedy at uni, but you’ve been putting off pursuing it due to lack of confidence and motivation. Your best mates decide to encourage you to try a comedy mic night for the first time ever and while there you incidentally run into an old mate of yours, comedian Rhys James. That’s when your life gets turned around as you end up diving into the world of the comedy circuit and becoming close with other famous British comedians. In the midst of it all, you end up meeting a particularly distinctive red headed fellow who might end up being the very thing that brings meaning to your life again.

A/N: Hello Acaster fans!

So this was an idea I have had in mind for the last few months and I finally finished the first chapter of my story!

Just so you know, the first chapter does not include James, but be patient as he will appear soon (but maybe not quite as soon as you hope). I do reckon it will be worth the wait for his appearance, or at least I hope the story is still enjoyable! It is a slow burn so if you are an inpatient person, then this story might not be for you ;)

You can read this chapter below or if you prefer, there is also the link to the chapter posted on Ao3 right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33748507

Rating: M

Chapter 1 word length: 2326

Characters: James Acaster (duh), Original Female Characters(s), Original Male Character(s), Rhys James, Ed Gamble, Nish Kumar, Josh Widdicombe

Relationships: James Acaster x Reader/you, Original female character/Original Male character

Story tags: Romantic comedy, domestic fluff, slow burn, fluff and smut, British comedy, eventual relationships

Tagging: @laurabeech @rilannon @jasclearwaters @marklily @queensantiagoofthe99

Chapter 1 - Summer 2019

You were sitting at your desk at your mundane job, practically ready to blow your brains out on the usual, dull Thursday afternoon. It was really warm and stuffy inside the fifteen story office block building situated in Canary Wharf. This was a place you found yourself five days a week, doing the typical 9 to 5 hours. A usual day for a usual person.

Your job wasn’t a particularly riveting one. As an underwriter for an insurance company, some days could get especially boring. You knew how to do the job well, but it was not something you really loved. It involved all kinds of clients and claims in paperwork and it sometimes felt tedious and unfulfilling. But hey, it still paid your share of rent and bills. At least you could say you could manage in the hustle and bustle of the London lifestyle.

It was nearly hometime and you were itching to get home and relax. But before that could happen, there were those last set of insurance cover forms you had to copy to get sent to the HR department. And so you typed away on your laptop, clickety clack, clickety clack… the minutes went by like a chalk on a blackboard, scraping away at a snail’s pace.

You put your full force of concentration on the documents on the screen until it was finally done. A sense of achievement was necessary in these moments despite your lack of enthusiasm. It was in the little victories you reminded yourself. You rubbed the sweat from the July heat off your forehead.

* * *

The last 2 hours eventually passed by and it was soon the rush to get out of the door before you got held up by your colleagues. They were nice enough, but sometimes they could hold you back for half an hour chatting when you just wanted to get home, or your manager might try and get you to stay an hour overtime.

Thankfully you did get out promptly, and as you ran and dashed out of the office building saying brisk goodbyes to coworkers, you managed to make it to the tube with the train just arriving on time. But not without being moderately sweaty and hot though. Bloody stuffy platforms.

As expected it was still a busy train with plenty of 5pm finishers getting themselves situated on the half crowded carriages, but as it was only 10 past, it wasn't the worst time of day for commuting yet.

You perched yourself on one of the tube’s seats and let your shoulders drop, having held the tension in your body from sitting at a desk all day. You placed your head slightly back, balancing it on the window of the train. You looked up momentarily above you and then lifted your head back up to look at your phone and choose a song to listen to on Spotify through your wireless earphones.

The streams of sound from one of your favourite songs began to play softly in your ears and you smiled, knowing that the song gave you a little bit of wistful joy. You started mouthing the words.

Call it all for nothing, but I'd rather be nothing to you. Than be a part of something, something that I didn’t do (Best to You - Blood Orange).

The words half mean something but not necessarily anything. You began to wonder about being part of something that you’re not.

I just wish I could float away from my unexciting existence… you thought to yourself.

It sometimes occurred to you that you might have wanted something more out of life, but weren’t entirely sure what. It doesn’t make you dreadfully sad, but you know that life for you hasn’t exactly been the best it could be, and that perhaps something was missing. You wish you knew what it was.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling of sorrow wash over you momentarily and propped yourself back up in the uncomfortable seat of the train. You tried to keep yourself awake so that you wouldn’t miss your stop. The music continued through your ears.

* * *

You opened the door of the three bedroom flat that you had been residing in for the last two years with your flatmates and sighed with relief that you had finally reached home. You hurried to get your handbag off your shoulder and your shoes off, placing them on the rack next to the front door and walked through the hallway.

The minute you poked your head through to the lounge, bellowing a faint hello to whoever was around, you were suddenly greeted by one of your best friends and flatmates, Grace.

“Ahh Y/n! You’re home. Thank christ!”

She grabbed you and reached her arms around to embrace you tightly. You were perplexed by this gesture as it was so random and unusual given that Grace lived with you and saw you everyday of the week. You frowned and reluctantly placed your arms around her to return the hug.

As she then let go, she looked at you with urgency in her eyes and shrieked with excitement, “Oh Y/n guess what? It looks like I’m up for a promotion! Can you believe it?”

Now processing the reason for such an embrace, you raised your eyebrows in glee and smiled proudly, gushing back to your best mate who was obviously chuffed by the matter.

“Oh wow Grace, that's fantastic! I mean, finally. It is about bloody time!”

She smiled, “Yes I guess it is. But I mustn't get too excited. I haven’t officially got the promotion yet.”

“Ah but no. I’m not having any of that. You will get that promotion. It is a guarantee. They would be idiots to not give it to you.” Grace rolled her eyes and bit her lip. She reluctantly nodded and agreed.

The smell of food distracted you momentarily from the conversation. It was a particularly appetising smell.

Grace uttered, “Yes that smell is good isn’t it? Theo insisted on cooking us a nice meal for me as a celebration.”

You smiled knowingly, having known about how Grace and Theo had been in relationship limbo ever since you three became close friends at university. You knew they both had feelings for each other but often danced around the subject, completely oblivious to one another’s obvious attraction to the other. You reckoned they had to do something about it one day.

“Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to make dinner tonight. I am too tired for that.”

Grace then had her worried face on. She instantly knew, as she knew you too well, but funnily enough never picked up on Theo’s emotions despite constantly wondering about them, that something was wrong.

“Are you ok babe?” she asked with a look of pity that you scornfully resented.

You sighed, half lying, “Yes. I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

You made a beeline for the couch knowing full well that you were going to talk about it whether you liked it or not. You knew that Grace would see right through your dishonesty and insist that you told her the problem.

So you waited until Grace inevitably sat next to you and gave you that sympathy look she always gave you before coming out with the concerns that were floating around your brain.

“OK fine. I know you won’t leave me alone unless I tell you.”

“Ahh, you know me so well…”

“Yes, just as you know me. I’m just- I’m fed up. Work was slow. I don’t really feel like I’m associated with my life. I feel... disconnected, I guess.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

You shrugged and looked down at the floor and then back at Grace smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not- not fulfilled? I just don’t thoroughly enjoy my life right now.”

Grace nodded and put a hand on your leg. You twitched your face in slight discomfort. You hated it when you were given sympathy for something that seemed so miniscule. It wasn’t like you were dying.

It was times like this when you just wanted to curl up in your bed, eat a tub of ice cream and watch your favourite comedy programmes. 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown sprang to mind.

As you sat in momentary silence for a bit, Theo came waltzing through from the kitchen with his silly apron on that had a naked man’s body printed on it, and a spatula in his hand. He smiled at you.

“I thought I heard your voice. I hope meatballs for dinner are good tonight. Not mine of course,” gesturing to the apron as he said it.

You shook your head at Theo’s poor dad joke and stood up to hug him. You realised that you must be really down in the dumps to be hugging Theo. It was his turn to be confused. He looked towards Grace wide eyed.

“She’s had a particularly tough day. But mind you babe, you’ve kinda been like this for weeks now.”

You let go of Theo and turned to Grace, frowning and feeling slightly defensive. You placed a hand on your hip.

“Been like what? I’ve just been a bit fed up, that's all.”

“Yes but it’s not just a bit fed up. You said so yourself you feel disconnected. We’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

You looked to Theo and he nodded gently in agreement.

“Ok… but, nothing is really wrong exactly. My life is fine.”

“Fine, yes. But not amazing. We know it’s getting you down. And the job is the problem.”

“But I’m good at it. And it pays the bills. What else am I supposed to do?”

Grace then looked away from your eyes then, twitching her lip and looking as though she was holding something back. She then sighed and began to admit something you had not been expecting.

“OK look. We know what you can do. Theo and I have figured it out. We can manage money wise. It will be tight, but if you quit your job we should be able to help you out for a little bit.”

Your eyes grew wider than large saucepans. You were totally bewildered and your mouth slightly agape.

“What? Quit my job? Why? What work would I get instead?”

“Well, maybe you won't quit your job yet. Maybe you’re right, that's too hasty. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is-”

Theo then chimed in, “-what Grace is trying to say is…”

You smirked to yourself. How do they not realise that they’re already a couple but without the sex? They’re practically married for christ sake.

“...we reckon that you need to pursue your passion. Perhaps stop wasting your talents in an office job that you hate.”

Grace continued, “yes exactly. We have had an idea in mind. See, we want you to go to this thing… it’s no biggie but well, we’ve already booked it for you.”

Your mind was racing. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying to you. It was all too much for you to manage.

“Booked what for me? What the hell are you both going on about?”

They both looked at each other with reluctance, pondering the moment and whether to tell you the whole truth. They both shrugged and Grace was then pulling her phone out, this whole conversation beginning to appear as though they had been trying to practice it.

Suddenly Grace’s phone screen was wavering in your face. You moved your head closer to see a photo on the screen. It was a comedy club night poster. Incidentally, it was an open mic night event happening on Saturday night. You began to then put the puzzle pieces together. You folded your arms and frowned heavily.

“What the fuck have you two done now?”

Theo softly spoke, “We… booked you a slot to do that comedy open mic event thing, on Saturday night.”

“Wait. As in to perform? You can’t be serious-”

Grace tried to reassure you and grabbed your arm.

“Look, we know it might seem daunting, but we just wanted to see you happy again. It’s been two years since we graduated and you haven’t performed since then. We thought it might be good to encourage you to perform again. You were always funny to us. And people at uni thought so too. You have the stand up talent, Y/n.”

You could not process anymore. You shook your head in disbelief and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from sudden exhaustion. You then threw your hands up in exasperation. It was not possible. You could not do that again.

Fucking no way. I can’t be on stage again! It’s too scary. University pub nights are one thing but a comedy club?

You shook your head again and placed your hands on your hips. Grace tried to speak up again seeing the frustration painted across your face. In fact it was anger that your friends chose to do this without your say so.

“Y/n…”

“No. Nope. I’m not doing it. No.”

“But Y/n, we were also going to tell you that Theo is also thinking of doing the same thing! He wants to do his music again. What harm would it be for you to rejuvenate your comedy skills? Surely you can write a quick couple of gags. Nothing strenuous. You have your old material from university, right?”

You had to get out of the room. Nothing that they were saying to you could be fully accepted at that moment.

You then gave them no choice but to let you go with your head in a flurry. They both watched you leave the room, mumbling something along the lines of I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m going to bed. Soon after, you darted across the other end of the hallway, ill-tempered and almost seething, and slammed your bedroom door shut.

#james acaster #james acaster fanfic #james acaster x reader #james acaster x you #original female character #original male character #original story #off menu #eventual romance #slow burn

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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years

Text

off limits: tom holland one-shot

a/n | this is my submission for @chloecreatesfictions’ 1k writing challenge! i’ve never done the “brother’s best friend” trope and i def got a little too excited and carried away! real talk, this might be the cutest thing i’ve ever written

summary | as harrison osterfield’s younger sister, you’d always just seen his best friend tom as an annoying older brother. until, one day, you didn’t.

cw | tom x osterfield!reader. contains language, alcohol, recreational use of weeeed, teenage angst, sexual tension, fluff n’ stuff. 5k words.

For as long as you could remember, Tom Holland had been a stitch in your side that you could never get rid of.

Growing up as your older brother’s best friend, he was always at your house when you were children— and his favorite pastime when Harrison was boring him was to break into your room and mess with you, stealing your toys or running his hands across the piano keys when you were trying to practice in peace. No matter how many locks you put on your door just to keep Tom out, he was always able to pick them.

As you all got older, he grew to annoy you in a different way, blasting loud, grungy music through Harrison’s bedroom walls late at night or eating things out of the fridge that clearly had your name on them. Once he’d started to garner some attention as an actor, his ego skyrocketed, and somehow he became an even bigger nuisance. He dragged Harrison away from you and took him all over the world while you had to sit idly by and love your brother from a distance.

When Tom would come over now, he would talk of nothing but hollywood parties and getting drunk with the biggest a-listers when he knew you were listening. He would ignore you when he breezed past you in the hallway, and even had the audacity to go into your bedroom when you were out and smoke a blunt on your bed so your whole room smelled like a music festival when you got home; and worst of all, it was your weed.

It was sufficient to say you were Tom Holland’s least enthusiastic fan. And it was rather unfortunate, because you were a big stan of the MCU—and secretly loved getting high and watching and re-watching the spider-man movies the most. Okay, don’t make that face. They have a good storyline.

It was a regular Friday night, you were aimlessly scrolling through your phone while Harrison and Tom were getting ready to go pub hopping. Harrison always invited you, but you never took him up on his offer because you knew how flirty you got with alcohol in your system and wouldn’t dare feel that way around Tom. He was notorious for taking anything nice you said about him and rubbing it in your face for at least a week after.

“You know you secretly love me, babe.”

You hated when he called you babe, and he knew it. But since you’d both grown up, time had done you both a favor, and there was always an air of something you couldn’t quite place your finger on whenever you interacted...the pet name just made it more interesting.

“Hey, y/n, are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Harrison yelled from outside your bedroom door, and you peeked your head out to respond.

“Nah, it’s fine, Haz, go have fun. I have enough uni work to keep me busy.”

“It’s a Friday night, nerd.”

You stuck your tongue out at him and smiled. “Sorry I’m not a budding alcoholic like you, big bro.”

He laughed, blew you a kiss, and he and Tom were off.

Only about an hour later, you decided to take a break from studying and light up a joint, turning on your go-to movie for background noise- but were snapped out of your vibey trance when you heard the front door swing open, and your brother’s loud, drunk voice.

“W-why are we h-home, you div,” he slurred, as his heavy footsteps start to climb the stairs. After a long moment, you heard him collapse on his bed through your thin walls, still stammering out his words. “Thomas, I promise you, I am fineeee...”

“Mate, you’re sloshed. Go to bed.”

You decided to leave them be. This was a typical occurrence- one of the boys went too hard too early, and the other had to babysit until they made it home to pass out cold, usually on the bed, or the couch, or on a good day, the floor.

A few minutes passed while you hotboxed your room, feeling amazingly relaxed, until you saw your doorknob wriggling out of the corner of your eye. Your door was locked, so you ignored it. But the knob kept twisting and falling back in place, making the whole frame shake. After a long while of witnessing a ghost try to make its way into your room, you watched your lock turn slowly and click out of place, the door creaking opened to reveal Tom, swatting at the air when a cloud of smoke greeted him.

You snapped your laptop closed before he could hear his own voice flowing out of your speakers. “Tom, for the last time, stop picking my fucking lock!” You beamed your nearest pillow at him—which he caught before it struck him—and he threw it back, hitting you square in the face. Of course.

He flashed a cocky smile. “Why? It’s so easy.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m serious! I could’ve been naked or something!”

He just stood in the doorframe, giving you a once-over in your thin cotton t-shirt and yoga pants, and kept that smug expression locked on his face.

“Ew, Tom, you’re disgusting. Get out.”

He decidedly did not get out, instead closing the door behind him and hopping up next to you on your bed, the divot in your mattress leaving your bodies pressed much too close together. You were met with a strong whiff of his cologne and the gin he must’ve been drinking earlier. “I’ll take that,” he muttered as he lifted your joint out of your fingers and took a puff, sucking his breath in as his lungs filled.

Your stomach filled with a dull fire and you narrowed your eyes. “Do you mind?”

He turned to face you and blew a big puff of smoke directly into your face, the notorious smirk making its reappearance. “Not at all, thanks for asking though.”

You groaned aloud. “What are you doing in here?” he took another draw and handed you back what was rightfully yours, smoke dissipating from his mouth as he spoke.

“Haz is pissed and I’m bored.”

You relit the bud and inhaled for a long while, figuring you’d need to be pretty intoxicated to not smack him in the face if he tried to talk again. “Well, go be bored somewhere else. I was busy.”

He cocked an eyebrow at you and reached across your lap for your computer. “Doing what?”

Oh shit. “Dude, can you not-?!” you yelped, but he had swiped it too quickly out of your grasp, and opened it up to find himself paused on your screen. You laid back on your bed so he couldn’t see your cheeks now flushed with embarrassment and grabbed your lighter from your nightstand. It was going to be a long evening.

He leaned himself over to catch your eye and had the stupidest, most prideful look plastered across his face. “Gotcha.”

You punched him in the arm as he erupted into laughter—but the anger inside you had been dulled by the weed and replaced with a childlike silliness—and you started to giggle, too. You looked up into his eyes, pupils now wildly dilated and tinted red around the edges.

“Shut up, Tom, you’re high,” you said in between chuckles.

“Yeah? Well so are you!”

You poked fun at each other for a while, suddenly in a mutually fantastic mood. You knew in the back of your mind that none of this would be happening if you hadn’t gotten stoned together, but you enjoyed the warm company anyway.

“Well, you gotta finish it, don’t you?” he said, settling back down and fixating the computer on his lap so you could both see it.

“You really want to watch your own movie?”

“Doll, it’s my favorite thing to do.” he smiled at you.

“God, you’re the worst.” you felt some butterflies make an entrance in your chest that had never been there before.

He pressed play and cozied up on your bed, lying back against the wall with his arm lazily draped behind you. You pulled a blanket up onto your lap and had really no choice but to lean on him for support, neither of you admitting out loud that you were full on cuddling and not angry about it.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna share?” he whined, pulling at the corner of your blanket.

“Get your own,” you responded, internally high-fiving yourself for finally getting the chance to sass him back. Sure, you had your head comfortably resting on his shoulder, but that didn’t mean you were suddenly friends.

You let the movie play, the two of you blowing through the joint until it was a dwindling nub. The scene where Peter has his big kiss with MJ started, and you stifled a snigger as their lips met on the screen.

Tom had clear offense laced through his words. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged.

He sat up to look at you, eyebrows knit together in an angry pout. “Tell me.”

“I just...feel bad for Zendaya, that’s all.” you covered your mouth to keep from laughing, and his eyes rolled so far back into his head you were sure they’d be stuck that way forever.

“You’re such a brat,” he started, his ego finding its old place back in his voice. “I’m an amazing kisser. She told me herself.”

You looked away from him, taking a heavy exhale. “Yeah, whatever, dude.”

He sat even more upright and paused the movie, taking hold of your shoulder to make you turn to him. “What, you don’t believe me?”

You realized then how physically close you had gotten, as you could feel the syllables of his words in his breath hitting your face. He was doing that thing boys do, when they’re thinking about kissing you but don’t- their stares going back and forth between your lips and your eyes in a not so subtle way. It freaked you out to see him that close and personal, and you whispered back exactly what you knew would irk him the most.

“Nope.”

He moved his face impossibly closer to yours, and you felt his soft lips lightly brush over your own. You weren’t sure if this was real, or just a high hallucination, but you didn’t move away. This was entirely uncharted territory.

“Tooommmm!” you heard Harrison yell out from the other side of the wall. “Where are yooouuu?! I’m so thirsty!” Tom immediately jerked his head away from you and shook himself out of the moment. You brought your hand up to your cheek and shuddered at how hot it had become- your own body was betraying you.

“God, he’s gonna be the death of me,” Tom said, shoving himself off the bed and walking out of your room, glancing back at you for a moment and then closing the door behind him. Just like that, he was gone, and you were left trapped in your own psyche wondering what the hell had just happened.

Over the course of the next week, things has become exponentially weirder between you and Tom. He seemed to be spending much more time at your house than he normally did, even sleeping a few nights there instead of driving the five minutes back to be in his own bed. One unsuspecting morning, you knocked on your bathroom door, annoyed that it had been shut for such a long time.

“Haz, if you use up all the hot water again, I’m gonna kill you,” you said in between knocks. You were taken by surprise when it swung open, steam billowing out into the cool air.

“Whoops,” you heard a voice say, immediately realizing it wasn’t your brother. You took a step backward to see Tom emerge, wearing nothing but a towel loosely wrapped around his waist. His hair was damp and clinging to his forehead, and he looked like some glowing magazine model.

“Uh, sorry,” you stammered, accidentally inhaling the yummy smell of his soap and shampoo emanating off of his skin.

He noticed you eyeing him and a sly grin appeared as he rolled his bottom lip under his teeth. “Shower’s all yours, babe,” he said, bumping your shoulder with his own as he walked away. You were stuck in place and didn’t see him glancing back at you as he wandered down the hallway.

Another day after that, Tom and Harrison were looking for a certain record to play, but it was nowhere to be found. “It might be in y/n’s room,” Harrison said, sitting back in his lounge chair. “Wanna go grab it?”

Tom coughed. “Why do I have to get it?”

“Because I’m comfortable.”

Tom felt a mix of annoyance and nerves in his chest as he walked the short distance down the hallway to your room where the door was already cracked open. He invited himself in—excitement faltering a little when he saw you weren’t in your usual spot on your bed—and started to sift through your bookshelves.

You had been in the bathroom getting dressed after your shower, but realized you left your shirt in your closet- and seeing that Harrison’s bedroom door was still shut, you figured it was safe to run across the landing into your room without anyone seeing you. In just a bra and spandex shorts that left little to the imagination, you swiftly made your way across the hall and walked through your door that was still open a crack to see Tom kneeled down as he shuffled through your record collection.

He heard your small gasp when you entered to find him, and swiveled around to you standing only a few feet away from him in the least amount of clothing he’d ever seen on you. He abruptly stood up but didn’t move, eyes sparkling as they rolled down your body.

“What the fuck! Why are you always in my room?!” You were too shocked to think about finding something to cover yourself with, and put your hands over your face, trying not to die of embarrassment. Tom remained glued to his place on your carpet, clearly at a loss for words.

“Tom, can you leave please-”

“Right, yeah, okay, uh, bye-” he hurried out of your room, swinging the door almost shut but leaving just a crack so he could speak into it.

“...I like your shorts.”

“TOM!”

He chuckled and closed the door, and you slumped against the wall, still holding your head in your hands. What was this sudden hold he had over you? And why did you love the way that he was staring at you?

That night, you had a big paper to complete, and you were perched in your bed typing away as it got dark. In between two songs on your playlist, you heard the familiar jiggle of a doorknob. Looking up over your screen, you watched as the metal turned in its socket, and heard a soft “crushed it” as the lock undid itself. Your door opened steadily and slowly, a familiar face peeking in at you.

“Hi.”

“Oh sweet jesus,” you mumbled.

“You busy?”

“Clearly.”

“Cool.” Tom let himself into your room, shutting the door behind him and sauntering over to your bed, sitting down next to you, bouncing like a little kid and singing his words. “Whatcha doooin’?”

“Homework,” you said, continuing to type and trying your best to ignore the way the sound of his voice was waking up something electric inside of you. He leaned into your body to peer at your computer screen, pretending to be interested in whatever you were writing about. His elbow got in the way of your hands, and you had to stop typing.

“Thomas, is there something I can help you with?”

“Haz is asleep,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder like it hadn’t been a week since your almost-kiss and you hadn’t been actively avoiding bringing it up.

You felt jittery. “And?”

He gently pushed your hands away from the keyboard and closed your laptop shut, giving you a sheepish smile. “Wanna get high?”

Honestly, you did.

You turned on your lamp and turned off the overhead light, put on that record he finally found, lighting a candle and then another hand-rolled blunt. This time, Tom sat upright with you perpendicular to him, your legs swung over his lap. When he made a joke, he’d give your leg a little squeeze- and whether it was purposeful or not, you were filled with schoolgirl nerves every time it happened.

All the angsty barriers built up over years of a sibling-like rivalry had come down between the two of you as you smoked together; you suddenly found all of his bad jokes funny, and he couldn’t peel his eyes away from the cute way you scrunched your nose when you laughed. Every time you exchanged the blunt, you couldn’t help but think about how his lips had just been on it a moment before yours. The night came and went, and you ended up falling asleep wrapped in his arms as he dozed off with his chin pressed to your forehead.

You both woke up at the same time in the dead of night, unsure of how late it had gotten. Still nestled into each other, you exchanged sleepy glances and no words, taking a moment to realize the position you had put yourselves in.

Tom grazed your jawline with the back of his hand and lifted up your chin with his thumb. You let your eyes flutter shut and he kissed you in the dark for one long, everlasting moment. He pulled back from you hesitantly, leaving you breathless. Did that really just happen?

“We...we can’t,” he whispered, his words tinged with sadness.

Your heart broke for him just hearing his voice. “Why not?”

“You’re my best friend’s little sister, y/n.”

“And you’re my brother’s best friend. So what?” you were almost upset with yourself for being so vulnerable; so visibly pining after him.

“So, you’re off limits,” he said, resting his forehead against yours.

“Says who?”

That prompted Tom to meet your gaze again, and this time you took initiative, moving your face to his and taking his bottom lip in between yours. He took a sharp inhale as you kissed him and seemed to let all inhibition go as he put his arms around your back and pressed you into him hard, all of his pent up feelings for you suddenly flowing out of him. He kissed you in a needy, desperate kind of way, and you loved every second of it. You ran your fingers through his hair, traced his jawline, using your hands to feel every bit of him that you couldn’t before. The strangest part of it all was how natural it felt- like you had been practicing for this very moment all your lives.

Your record had stopped spinning a while ago, the room now filled with just the breathy noises of your kisses, your contented hums and his tiny mews when you bit his lips. You were both still barely lucid, and after countless minutes of nothing but innocent kisses, you were on the brink of falling asleep again, serotonin whisking you away into dreams. Tom sighed into you, and clasped his hand around yours.

“I have to go.”

“What? Why?” you felt your heart preeminently sink in your chest; like you should’ve known this was too good to last.

“I don’t want him to wake up and find us here,” he trailed off, staring down at your intertwined fingers fiddling together.

“So that’s it?” you tried to swallow back the sudden upwell of feelings inside you.

“No, no...” his eyes filled with some type of emotional strain you’d never seen. “I- I don’t want this to be it. But I don’t want things to get...messy.”

Unfortunately, you couldn’t blame him, because you understood.

“Can you come back tomorrow night?” you whispered, very not ready to let his spot next to you grow cold.

“I don’t know...”

You looked up at him doe-eyed, cooing. “Please?”

He nodded, looking away from you before he completely caved and stayed there forever. “I’ll come back.”

He pressed one last kiss onto your lips and slowly got up, reluctantly letting go of your hand as he left your room. “Goodnight, babe.”

Hearing him call you babe, finally free of demeaning sarcasm, made your heart soar.

“Goodnight, Tom.”

The door shut and you were left alone, the stillness of your room sticking out in sharp contrast with how quickly your heart was racing.

For the next few nights, Tom spent the evenings at your house with Harrison, waiting until he fell asleep to make his way next door to you. You’d smoke together, watch his movies—and in heated moments got a little handsy—but you never went past kissing, though you both desperately wanted to. It was too risky having your brother right next door; and you knew all too well how paper thin your walls were. But in those secretive hours after solar midnight, just being able to exist next to Tom and letting him hold you, you were the happiest you could ever remember being. The second night he left your room to let you sleep, he placed a light kiss on your forehead after he stood up that made the whole thing feel a little too...real.

The next day, you walked into the kitchen and found Harrison at the fridge. You were in a great mood for obvious reasons but couldn’t let it show. “Hey, got any fun plans today?”

He turned around after shoving a handful of grapes in his mouth. “Nope, got some admin stuff to do and gonna turn in early.”

“Oh, Tom isn’t coming over?”

“No, I told him to take a night off. He’s been smothering me, y’know?” he laughed and ate a few more grapes, but then turned to you, confused. “Since when do you care if he’s coming over?”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say. “Just want to know if I need to stay out of the way,” you faked a laugh and blinked hard, hoping he wasn’t paying too much attention to your facial expressions.

“Uh, alright then. You two are always so fuckin’ weird around each other.” He seemed to feel that was a good way to end your exchange and walked out of the kitchen, throwing a grape at you.

You rolled your eyes at your brother, but then felt the sadness bubble up upon registering that you weren’t going to see Tom tonight. But really, how long did you think you could keep this up? The feelings you were developing for him scared you, you didn’t know what to make of them; all you knew was that your days suddenly seemed much grayer without him.

Nighttime came around, and you couldn’t sleep, so you did the unthinkable and sent Tom a text. Your thumb shook as you hit send, knowing that there was now tangible evidence of the connection you’d developed, that it wasn’t just some invention of your mind.

hey, are you awake?

T: yeah, can’t sleep. you?

obviously, i just texted you.

T: shut it.

A minute passed...

T: got room for one more over there?

You smiled like an idiot at your phone.

maybe.

Less than 10 minutes later, you heard the familiar wriggle of your doorknob. You don’t know why you even bothered locking it anymore.

“Hey you,” he whispered, carefully shutting the door behind him.

“Tom, you know you could’ve just knocked and I would’ve let you in- you don’t have to keep picking the lock.”

“Old habits die hard.”

You chuckled and stood up to greet him at your door as he unexpectedly wrapped you in an amazingly tight hug. He rested his chin on top of your head and started to sway your bodies back and forth. You laid your head on his chest and said hello to his heartbeat.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but it was almost hard to fall asleep without you,” he murmured, placing another one of those domestic kisses on your scalp.

“Well, now you don’t have to.” you smiled. He waddled you backwards to your bed and you sat down as your legs hit the bedframe, prompting Tom to fall onto you as you giggled into his body that was now covering your face.

“Okay, goodniiight,” he said, refusing to move. You poked at his sides making him jump, and he grabbed your waist and rolled you on top of him. You instinctively leaned down so your lips could clash together in the way you were so used to, trying hard to not confess that you’d completely fallen in love with him when you finally had the breath to speak. He pushed your hair to cascade to one side of his face, and nuzzled your nose with his own, closing his eyes and humming with a smile. “Mmm.”

“Hmm?”

“Just happy.”

You rested your sleepy head on his warm chest, and fell into a deep sleep, letting the steady drumming in his chest be a metronome to breathe to.

“Oh, shit. Shit shit shit.”

You woke up abruptly, the bright light of day blinding you as you tried to open your eyes to the string of expletives you’d just heard come from a familiar voice. Once you’d opened them, though, you wish you had kept them shut so you hadn’t seen who had spoken.

“Harrison?!”

He was standing in your room, peering at you with hands half covering his eyes when you realized that there was a sleeping Tom underneath you.

Your brother paced in a circle and exhaled loudly. “Tell me I’m not seeing what I’m seeing.”

You nudged Tom awake with your elbow and immediately rolled off of him, trying to hide the very obvious fact that you had slept together all night. You never let him stay the full night for this exact reason, but he had been so ridiculously happy holding you in his arms that he forgot to set an alarm to wake him at the crack of dawn and leave. You sat up straight in your bed, twisting your hair in your hands, bracing yourself for the inevitable tirade.

Tom picked his head up to see Harrison standing there with his arms crossed, and flopped his head back on the pillow. “Fuck. Hey, mate.” He tried to play it off like this was the most normal thing that could happen on a Thursday morning.

“Is this why you’re always such bumbling fools around one another? You’ve been, what, fucking each other when I’m not around?” Harrison looked like he wanted to throw up at the thought.

“Haz, no, it’s not like that,” you said, but he didn’t seem convinced. “It’s just been smoking together and cuddling, really, that’s it,” you were torn between wanting to console your brother and admitting to both him and Tom that this was more to you than that. But Tom already knew that, because it was for him, too.

Tom looked like a deer in headlights. “I’m so sorry, dude-”

Harrison walked out of the room, and the two of you were left sitting in your bed, worry filling your eyes. Only a moment later, your brother reappeared in the doorway.

“Look, you idiots, I don’t care that you’re snuggling off the clock—you’re my two favorite people in the world, and to see you together, honestly, it’s about damn time,” he started, making both your and Tom’s jaws fall slightly agape. You exchanged a knowing look. Wait, is he not mad? Wait, about damn time??

“But I wish you would’ve told me so we could all hang out together. I don’t appreciate the sneaking around.”

You cocked your head at him, sending him a loving gaze for always just wanting what’s best for you.

“I’m just mad you aren’t including me in your hotbox sessions, really.” He laughed and ran his hands through his hair, pulling his face back to make a wild expression.

All three of you started to chuckle out of sheer awkwardness and relief.

“Come here.” Harrison held his hands out and you both gave a mutual aww as you ran into your brother’s arms, squeezing him tight.

“I love you, big bro.”

“I know. Now I’m gonna get out of here before you start kissing in front of me, or worse,” he moaned, swiftly exiting your room. “This is gonna be the grossest thing I’ve ever seen...” you heard him say to himself as he left.

You turned to Tom, still shocked at how well that had gone considering what he was assuming would happen. You swallowed the butterflies that you’d welcomed as friends and stepped back to him still sitting on the bed, putting your arms around his neck.

“And you,” you started, swinging your legs over his lap to straddle him. “I have to confess something.”

Tom placed his hands back on your hips where they rightfully belonged and smiled at you. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t mind you calling me babe anymore.” you grinned at his face drop, obviously assuming that you were going to say something else.

“Oh, and why’s that?” he prodded.

You looked up and off to the side as you squeezed his shoulders. “Maybe because I’m just a tad bit in love with you,” you trailed off, stiff as a board at what he could possibly say next.

“Well, babe,” he put emphasis on the pet name, “That’s a relief, because I was worried I might be the only one falling here.”

You grabbed his face and kissed him, kneading his soft cheeks under your thumbs, whispering exactly what you knew would get him the most.

“Nope.”

#chloe1kwritingchallenge #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #best friend's brother #enemies to lovers #osterfield!reader

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btsfaris · 4 years

Text

bugboy (m)

pairing: mark lee!spiderman x reader.

words: 7.4k

genre: smut, humor, fluff, action. hella angst.

a/n: thank u to the reader who recommended me to join both of my favorite worlds together and create this masterpiece :’) <3

You always wondered why life teased you this way? Why God made Mark Lee, the cutest and smartest boy in Queens exist in your lifetime, yet make him so unavailable to you. It was simply just plain, unfair torture to you.

You’ve known about Mark since high school, others might think of him as nerdy and even a bit weird whenever he runs out of a room abruptly — but you always excused it as a need to go to the bathroom or a family emergency, just like he always said. Despite that fact, he was practically flawless. Always top of his class and sweet to everyone, even to Flash, who never returned the kind gestures.

Truthfully, you have never spoken to your high school crush because that’s exactly what he is, a crush and nothing more. Of course, there have been times where you’ve bumped into each other at social events or in the hallways, but your anxiety always got to you and you’d practically run away whenever he said a simple hello or smiled at you.

It didn’t help he was extremely gorgeous either, soft wavy brown hair and big doe eyes that could make any girl drop to their knees — literally. He was taller than most guys and his style wasn’t as basic, just casually trendy. Mark wasn’t exactly popular but he was well-known for his internship at Stark industries that he got freshman year.

Basically you never had a chance with him in high school even if you dreamed about it, because Mark was the school’s it-guy and you were just, nobody. Just a random classmate he had and that was all. Not to mention he was always pining after Liz Allan, then once she moved, it was MJ. So no chance there.

Now that you’re in college, you had hoped that your stupid crush would go away and you’d meet a nice guy who would sweep you off your feet. But as luck will have it, when you’re moving into your dorm you see Mark on campus with a couple of his close friends, all helping him move stuff into a dorm as well. Great.

So that’s where you are now, into your second year of college with your high school crush; who has now become your college crush and will quite possibly be the death of you. You can only hope that he doesn’t go to the same graduate school as you. You’ve managed to go this far without him noticing you though, because it would probably be too embarrassing for you if he remembered you as the weird girl who would run out on him. You’ve gone this far.

Until tonight of course.

You’re at a party, not one you wanted to go willingly but your roommate forced you from your warm cocoon of a bed and season 6 grey’s anatomy on netflix, with the words “you never leave the room and I need a sober friend to make sure I don’t have my nudes leaked,” so here you are.

Leaning against a wall in an empty corner, watching as your fellow students drink their kidneys to shit and dance practically in their underwear. Some are either in the bathroom getting coked up, or getting cocked down. The music is blasting loudly in your ears and you hum along to the beat of a whiny pop song that’s popular this week. Your roommate had ditched you a long time ago to go “dance with a guy” but you know that it’s code for ‘I’m getting dick tonight.’

You’re on your second cup of some mixed fruity punch that is spiked with 3 different hard liquors but you don’t really care since you didn’t pay for it. Serving yourself another cup, you turn around and scan the large room. Everyone in the dance floor is packed so closely together like a can of sardines. Your eyes land on a familiar adoring face that makes you smile, he’s wearing a red flannel and a random band tee with black ripped jeans.

He’s talking to some of his friends but a random girl is on his side, practically crawling for his attention. You laugh at the scene and it’s almost like he recognizes it, because when his eyes look around, they land on you. You don’t look away as usual, and he stares at you for a moment before he smiles. An actual, soft smile that makes you want to hug him and kiss his face.

Instead you turn around as fast you can, walking to the front door. You’re halfway down the driveway when you hear someone calling you.

“Hey!” You turn around and see Mark jogging softly to you, the same smile on his face, “you went to the same high school as me right?”

Oh my god, what the hell are you supposed to say.

“Y-Yeah,” you manage to blurt out and his smile actually widens. Holy shit.

“Cool, thought I recognized you,” he says, his brown eyes sparkling under the moonlight, “so you go to Empire State Uni too?”

You nod, trying to keep your composure.

“Funny, wonder why I haven’t run into you before..” you blink at him.

“Yeah.. um, I should, probably go get my friend–it’s getting late,” you stammer and avoid eye contact, trying to move around him.

“Hey wait,” he stops in front of you again, hands raised in defense, “did I do something to you in high school? I’m sorry if I did, I tried to be nice to everyone.”

You shake your head immediately, “no you didn’t, it’s just you’re Mark Lee–”

“And you’re y/n, the girl who always runs away from me,” He gives you a soft grin that makes you weak in the knees.

“You know my name?” you ask him, confused.

“Yes of course, everyone knew who you were,” he chuckles, “you tutored a lot of people, not to mention head of the homecoming committee.”

“Oh yeah that, haha,” you let out a weak giggle, completely embarrassed.

“I think it’s cool that you helped out so much, I wish I were that nice,” Mark compliments you.

“But you’re Mark Lee, you’re nice to everyone, even to that know-it-all Flash. If anyone is admirable, it’s you,” you say without a single thought.

His eyes widen slightly and you blush immediately in shame at your outburst.

“You think I’m admirable?–”

“I gotta go! My friend needs me!” you charge past him successfully this time and run into the house without another look, “bye Mark!”

“A little birdy told me you were talking to Mark Lee at the party, spill the tea!” Your roommate Jisoo squeals, jumping on your bed. You bounce lightly, taking out your headphones and scrunch your nose at her, “I’m working on my History essay right now.”

“Whatever- Tell me all about your sexversation with Mark!”

“What? How do you know I talked to-“

“Doesn’t matter! Spill!”

“Nothing happened, he remembered me from high school, that’s it. There was no sex involved.”

“So you didn’t run out on him like you always did before? You had an actual conversation with him like a normal human being right?”

“Yes, sort of, kinda?” You push your reading glasses up your nose bridge, “he knew my name.”

“Oh my god!” She squeals three pitches higher than usual, making you groan, “he’s in love with you, he remembered you from high school!”

“No he isn’t, he mentioned that I tutored before so I probably helped one of his old pals, not a big deal,” you mutter, eyes focusing back on the laptop.

“Y/n, honey, how mad would you be if I smacked the sense back into you?”

“Don’t you dare Jisoo, I will hide all of your nice panties when you have a dick appointment,” you warn, and she sighs in frustration.

“Fine! But when you guys fall in love, don’t say I didn’t tell you so!” She singsongs, moving back to her bed to finally leave you at peace.

She’s completely crazy.. right?

Midterms were getting closer and closer as the days went on. It has been a while since your little encounter with Mark at the party and your roommate had finally stopped bugging you about it. Your life was going back to normal, despite you constantly revisiting that moment in time where you actually held a conversation with the love of your life. Still, you had bigger things to focus on and a degree to get, not some fantasy-land boyfriend.

You’re at the library, having been studying your brains out for the past 3 hours and it’s honestly all turned to mush at this point. Too many things to stuff into your head all at once and you sigh, rubbing your eyes in frustration. All you need is a nice cup of coffee to regain your senses and energy back, but you also don’t want to lose your spot either. Resting your head in your arms, you close your eyes for a moment, composing yourself to go back to another 3 hours of cramming.

You feel a soft tap on your arm, and raise your head, looking at a smiling Mark once again. He’s sporting grey sweats and a Midtown High hoodie. “I brought you a cup,” he says shyly, placing a cup of coffee in front of you, “you looked like you needed it.” You look at the cup and back at him awkwardly.

“You probably don’t want to talk to me.. so I’ll go study somewhere else,” his smile slips away slightly, and he turns around to walk away.

“Mark, wait,” you call out, and he stops in his tracks.

“You can sit with me, I don’t mind,” you manage to say and he turns to you with raised brows.

“You sure? I-I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he lightly blushes and you almost visibly swoon at his cuteness.

“Please,” you smile softly, “I could use your company.”

Mark blinks at your words before his face breaks into the cute, goofy grin that you’ve only seen when he’s with his friends.

After that day, Mark has become your friend, though could you even call him that? I mean, he always hangs out around you now, brings you coffee when you need it and helps you study with that big brain of his. You admire him really, how he manages to get straight A’s, go to classes everyday and work at his internship is beyond you. You can barely keep up with your 8am classes, let alone work and study full time. He’s as amazing as he was in high school and it does little to help your heart from yearning for him as something more.

Despite the big step of becoming close to Mark, you still don’t have a chance, especially now that you’re technically friend zoned right? Even then, Mark is still Mark, still handsome as ever and completely out of your league. If he wasn’t popular in high school, he certainly is now. All the girls in the university have their eye on him, including Gwen Stacy, quite possibly the most beautiful girl on campus. She is a chem major, just like Mark and as equally well known as him.

They were perfect for each other actually, even if you dread the thought of it. You know you should probably stop talking to Mark if you want to move on like you had planned, but he is such a sweet person that you couldn’t possibly just ignore him like that. With his big puppy eyes looking at you, soft lips that you could kiss for like, ever-

“Earth to y/n!” One of your group partners for your finance project taps your notebook with their pencil, snapping you from your thoughts.

“Huh? Sorry!” You cough, refocusing on the project. “Anyways like I was saying, we should set up a chart, for the company budget cuts-“

Before she can continue, the floor beneath you trembles and the walls shake in the library. Everyone looks around confused before another loud rumble is heard, following screams. Your eyes widen as everyone runs out to find out what all the commotion is. As you make it outside, you halt in your step when you look up. You’re not sure what it is at first, until mechanical tentacles start to swing around, gripping on to surfaces.

“Where is he?!” The man at the top of the machine yells, “I know spiderman is on this campus! Where are you?!”

Everyone begins to run away as he walks closer but you stay put in shock, “Fine! I’ll make one of you tell me where he is!” You look as he zones in across from you, right on Jisoo who is equally as scared and doesn’t move from where she is. He raises one of his arms to grab her but you push her out of the way, “Jisoo run!”

You feel something wrap around your waist, lifting you up roughly into the air. Letting out the loudest scream you’ve ever done, you try to get out of his grip as he lifts you in front of him.

“Saving your friend huh? God I hate heroes,” the man sneers, “now where’s spiderman?!”

“Put me down!” you scream, flailing aimlessly.

“Tell me or I’ll peel the flesh of your body,” he hisses, bringing two more tentacles closer to your face. You scream louder and squeeze your eyes shut at the sight of the knives.

“Your choice. Spiderman you better come out! Before your little classmate becomes fresh meat,” he grins maniacally.

“Hey loser! I’m over here!” Someone shouts from behind him, dressed in red and blue. Spiderman swings around him, wrapping the legs with webs and tightening it, causing Dr. Otto’s machine to lose balance. You both fall and you brace for impact, but it never comes and you’re caught by Spiderman as he swings you both to the other side of the campus.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, as he sets you down and you look at him in shock.

“You-You’re, s-spiderman-“

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m just your friendly neighborhood spiderman,” he says, before looking behind him, “I gotta go, but please be safe! Don't want pretty girls like you in danger!”

Before you can say another word, he swings away to fight the villain.

You’re in love with him.

No not Mark, I mean, yes you love Mark, but now you’re in love with Spiderman too. Currently in your dorm watching the news and seeing your newfound crush beat that mechanical octopus’ ass. After he rescued you, he broke off most of his arms, before finally tying him up and sending him off to the police. Swooning as he is freeze framed on the tv, you grin like a little schoolgirl. You’ve never had a thing for superheroes, maybe Thor if any, but to have one actually save you? You could get married to him right then and there.

Loud knocking is heard at your door and you turn off the tv, walking towards it. You’re greeted with a sweaty looking Mark, staring at you in concern, “Are you okay? I heard that monster thing got you?!”

“I’m fine, I got saved,” you smile at the memory of your new found love.

“By who?” Mark raises his eyebrows slightly.

“Spiderman,” you giggle lightly, but it causes you to wince in pain.

“Are you okay?! Let’s sit down,” he helps you move to your bed, “What happened?”

“That stupid octopussy tried to hurt Jisoo so I pushed her away and he snatched me instead,” you hold your stomach, too busy swooning over Spiderman to realize you were in actual pain.

“You saved Jisoo..? Wow,” you look at him confused as he stares at you in awe before he stands up, grabbing an ice pack from the mini-fridge you have, “I mean, is she okay?”

“Yeah, went home today though, needed to be with her family.”

“Understandable,” he nods, giving you the ice pack along with some water, “so Spiderman huh?” he says coolly, drinking some water himself.

“Yeah.. he’s pretty cool,” you say dreamily, “I.. I think I’m in love with him.”

Mark chokes on his water and starts coughing uncontrollably. “Mark oh my god, breathe,” you pat his back and he shakes his head, trying gain his breath.

“I’m okay, I’m just-“ he says in a strained voice, before finally composing himself, “you love him?”

“Well he saved my life, there’s just something really, sexy about that,” you say, grinning.

Mark stares at you with wide eyes and mouth dropped which makes you laugh and you wince again. “Careful,” he warns, trying to keep composure, “y-you really love him?”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m probably never going to see him ever again,” you sigh, swinging your feet on your bed, “but if he ever asked me to have one night, just one hot, sweaty, and wet night together.. I’d let him do me all night.”

Mark stands up abruptly, placing his cup on your nightstand before walking to the door, “Alright! Well I gotta go do, uh, homework, I’m glad you’re okay-“ he looks at the floor with a blush on his cheeks and opens the door—face smacking against the doorframe, before finally walking out, “sorry b-bye!”

The university shuts down classes for a month to give students time to alleviate any trauma, but mainly to fix the campus back up. And in the last two weeks, you’ve been thinking about your spider boo, as Jisoo calls him, who doesn’t knock on your window at night like you had hoped. Instead you spend your nights with Mark in your dorm, watching 80’s movies back to back on your laptop. Tonight is just the same as the rest.

“God I wish I went to high school in the 80s,” you sigh, munching on some popcorn.

“Why?” Mark laughs, “high school would’ve sucked.”

“Well it did suck for some of us, ‘Mr. Everyone likes me,’” you scrunch your nose at him, “it wasn’t that fun for me.”

“Not everyone liked me, you didn’t like me,” he chuckles, throwing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Of course I did, I had such a huge crush on you-“ the words fall out of your mouth before you can realize and once it’s out, Mark isn’t laughing anymore.

“What?” He whispers.

“N-Nothing,” you attempt to save your dignity and the friendship you’ve built with him.

“You liked me?” He sits up, staring directly at you now. Your eyes stay on the screen, wishing your bed could swallow you whole at that very moment.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mark asks, clearly frustrated.

“Because it didn’t matter,” you mutter and he scoffs, standing up at your words.

“Of course it matters! Y/n, why didn’t you tell me!” He says loudly, and you look at him in shock.

“No it didn’t, you’re Mark Lee, you were every girl’s teenage dream! Everyone liked you because you were so cool and smart! You didn’t even know I existed,” You finally let out, “besides you were always dating someone — how was I supposed to tell you?”

“By talking to me? God y/n, you act like I was going to be disgusted by you or something!” He says loudly, trying not to yell.

“Because I thought you were! Mark don’t you get it? You’re this great, handsome guy that is way out of my league, you’re too good for me, always have been, always will! I’m a nobody, okay? You’re supposed to be with someone like Gwen.. not me,” you yell, and surprisingly Mark’s eyes soften. You always expected him to yell and tell you to never talk to him ever, that he is actually disgusted by you and never wants to see you again.. but he doesn’t.

“Y/N,” he sighs before taking a deep breath, “I love you, okay?”

“Mark don’t lie-“

“I’m being serious! You think I never noticed you in high school? Y/n, you were all I could think about then, I wanted to talk to you so badly and ask you out but whenever I had the chance, you’d scatter like I was a disease! I figured you didn’t like me so I dated other people to get over you,” he confesses, pulling at his hair in frustration, “then I saw you here again and I realized that I can’t get over you, because I love you.”

“You’re lying.. you don’t mean it, you’re just being nice,” you stammer, shaking your head as tears flood your eyes, “how can you love me? you’re Mark Lee-“

“You keep saying that, but this Mark Lee loves you.. so just let me love you,” he says, grabbing your cheek to wipe away your flowing tears.

“Why? Why do you love me? I’m not like the girls you’ve dated,” you whisper, and he gives you a smile.

“I only dated them to get over you,” he pulls you to the edge of the bed to keep you close, “I dated them, but I only love you.”

“Mark?” “Yeah?”

“Please kiss me,” you finally say, staring at his bright eyes up close for the first time ever.

He smiles and leans down, capturing your lips in a longing kiss. The kiss is everything you hoped it would be and more. His lips are as soft as his hands that hold your hips perfectly, his mouth moves smoothly against your own and he’s just as amazing as you always knew he’d be.

You make the bold move of moving backwards on your bed so he can climb over you in the midst of the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lays snug on top of you.

His mouth moves skillfully on your own and you run your hands through his hair in delight. Unconsciously, you wrap your legs around his waist, bringing his groin close to your heat. The kiss turns needier and his hands run from your hip to your thigh, gripping it. Licking his bottom lip with your tongue, he opens his mouth and welcomes it with his. Your mouths move faster, as you both are clearly turned on and the atmosphere is getting hotter.

Lifting your hips up, you grind against his hard-on, eliciting a shocked moan from Mark. You repeat the motion before he catches on, moving his hips into yours as well. His hard-on flicking deliciously against your centre. Breaking away from his mouth, you moan softly when he hits your clit exactly. He keeps doing it, kissing down your neck.

You’re so close but you know it isn’t enough to get you there, so you push him off softly onto the bed. “I’m sorry, did I do something?-“

“Shh, Mark, I just wanna suck you off,” you whisper, unbuckling his belt. His eyes blink wide repeatedly, and he nods, helping you pull down his pants. His dick is straining painfully against his dark briefs and you palm him softly, before pulling them down his legs.

“And you have a pretty dick too? Mark Lee you’re not fair,” you hum, leaning down to lick his tip. He’s long, not necessarily thick but big enough to have your panties soak further at the sight. A nice red tip and shaved, not a single hair on his pelvis.

Swirling your tongue around his tip, you look up at his reaction as your mouth envelopes around his length. You move softly at first, enjoying every moan that comes from his lips. “F-Fuck, I can’t believe this is actually happening,” he stutters, throwing his head back.

You giggle and start to bob your head faster, gaining a rhythm that has him twitching underneath you. “Oh my god, I’m so fucking close already,” he groans, his hands gripping your hair in his fingers, “oh god, I’m gonna cum if you keep-“

This only makes you go harder, dropping your mouth as far as you can go and swallowing at his tip. “Holy shit, fuck fuck fuck, I can’t hold it-I’m gonna cum-“ you feel it hit the back of your throat, streams of warmth flooding your mouth. Mark stutters, hips twitching before he calms down, releasing his grip in your hair.

You wipe at your mouth with a small smile and he looks at you in disbelief, “you literally made me come in two minutes.”

“Think you can do the same for me?” You say coyly and he grins, pushing you on the bed this time. He pulls your soft cotton shorts down your legs to show off your bare womanhood, and he groans at the sight. “So this whole time you’ve been wearing no panties beside me?”

He doesn’t wait for you to say something before he leans down and licks a stripe up for center, making your shutter. Holding your legs apart, he eats you out softly, carefully and taking his time. You softly mewl at the feeling, grabbing his hair. “I need your fingers, please,” you beg, feeling your high so close.

He licks one of his long fingers before rubbing it on your clit, dragging it down and pushing it in slowly. He mouths at you again while simultaneously fingering you, making your legs tremble in pleasure.

“Oh Mark,” you moan, “yes right there.”

“You’re so hot like this,” he mumbles into your clit, “I’ve wanted you here, like this, for such a long time.”

He wastes no time moving his finger quicker, mouthing at your pussy like a starved man and your toes curl, as you near your high.

“I’m gonna-“ you gasp, holding on to his hair when he pushes another finger in, fucking you hard with them. “Shit, shit, fuck-“ Your back arches off your bed and your legs grip around his head as you come, body finally relaxing after a few moments.

When you finally look at Mark, he’s staring at you in awe, mouth glistening with your arousal and chest huffing to catch his breath. It’s a beautiful sight to see and you give anything to see him just like this forever. Pulling him in for a kiss, you taste yourself on his tongue but you don’t mind it, enjoying his lips on yours instead.

He pulls away after a few moments and sighs happily, “I can die a happy man now,” he grins, pulling you beside him to cuddle and you giggle, but that only lasts a moment before you begin to wonder what will happen now. Does this mean you’re a couple? Was this just a bit of fun for him?

“Hey,” he tilts your chin up, “what’s with the frown pretty girl?”

“I’m just thinking.. what does this mean?” You find the courage to say, “are we a thing now?”

“Y/n.. you've always been my girl, just took awhile for you to finally realize,” he kisses your forehead. The action brings warmth to your heart and you lay your head on his chest, finally closing your eyes and letting them rest for the night.

The next morning, the sunlight from outside shines through your room and hits you directly in the face, waking you up after a few moments. You move away and blink repeatedly, adjusting your eyes to the light before looking beside you, with an empty spot. Sitting up, you look around the room and there is no trace of Mark anywhere, not a note not his clothes, absolutely nothing.

Quickly checking your phone, you’re only met with social media notifications and no messages or calls from Mark as usual. It takes a moment for you to realize what this means before it finally settles in, and tears flood your eyes in anger.

“Fuck you Mark Lee!” You yell out, throwing your phone across the room, “stupid, stupid, stupid!”

You collapse back into bed and cry your heart out. Of course he didn’t mean what he said, of course he doesn’t want you. What did you expect? He’s Mark Lee! Guys like him don’t fall for girls like you. You were so stupid to believe him, that he could actually love someone like you. All he wanted was to get his dick wet and that’s it.

You were so stupid.

The days following you’re either in your room crying all night or attending your morning classes. He hasn’t contacted you yet, not even a stupid ‘sorry’ text to make himself feel better. As if he even feels bad.

At least Jisoo is finally back, and when she finds that Mark has broken your heart, she is on a rampage to kill him. “How could he do this to you?! That little shit!” Were her exact words before she consoled you and cancelled her dick appointment that night to have a girl’s night with you.

You try your best to avoid Mark on campus, always surveilling the area before walking somewhere because you can’t deal with seeing him just yet. Though it seems like he’s doing the same, because you never catch him walking around and it’s as if he’s gone off the face of the earth. Good, as he should.

Sadly enough, classes are back in session and now you have chapters to catch up on that you’ve missed since the incident. So you’re in the library once again, trying to get ready for finals like everyone else in the room. Normally you’d study with Mark and he’d give you tips or make studying fun with his lame jokes.

“Did you hear what happened to Spiderman?” Another student beside you whispers to his friend.

“Yeah I heard, my mom says the neighborhood has gotten dangerous since he disappeared,” the other student tells them, “too bad, wonder what happened?”

“I heard the Avengers got sent on a mission and some got stuck behind, there's a video on YouTube,” the guy tsks, “hope he’s not dead.”

The other person mumbles in agreement and you stop listening to their conversation at that point. Poor Spiderman, the only real good man in New York, now gone. Just your luck huh? Both of your love life’s basically non existing now. Placing your headphones back in, you play some music to focus back on your work.

That night, you’re waiting for Jisoo to get back from the convenience store with your snacks to watch some cheesy chick flick that she has been begging you to watch. The movie is all set up on your computer and you’re in your comfy pjs with fuzzy socks to keep your feet warm. Scrolling through your phone while you wait, there is a quick knock on your door, signaling that Jisoo’s back. “Did you get the-“ you open the door and stop mid sentence when you’re greeted by Mark Lee instead of your roommate. He looks tired, eyes rimmed with dark circles and the same clothes he was wearing the night he used you. His hair is shaggier like he hasn’t cut it and there’s a shadow on his upper lip.

“What are you doing here?” You hiss and he looks hurt, but not surprised.

“Y/n, please listen to me, I know you’re mad but I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just that-“

“Oh really? You didn’t mean to hurt me? Didn’t mean to get yourself off and then pretend like it never happened?”

“No that’s not what it was-“ “Then what? You were just feeling horny and thought you could use me? That you could come here weeks later and I’d forgive you?”

“Y/n, please, let me explain. I love you, I really do-“

You cut him off once again, “Don’t. Don’t you ever say that to me again. You’re a piece of shit Mark, I really cared about you and I thought you were nice. But now I finally realize who you are, you’re too cool for me, you could never like me the same way. I get who you are now, because you’re Mark Lee,” you say all in one breath, before slamming the door on his fake ‘broken’ looking face.

As soon as the door shuts, you fall to ground and let out the hurt tears immediately. You can still hear him outside your door, begging you to open up and let him explain but you don’t care if he hears you cry, because you don’t give a shit anymore. For years you’ve loved the kid and he’s nothing like you imagined. You should’ve just listened to yourself from the beginning and just stayed away. Oh, how you wish you had listened, because now your high school crush has become your college heartbreak.

It takes him a while to leave and for you to collect yourself and Jisoo finally walks in with the bag of goodies in her hand, that she drops, once she sees you as a mopping mess on the floor. You cry all night again and the cringey movie is forgotten all about.

The next day, you don’t leave your room at all, missing all of your morning classes because you're too depressed to get out of bed. Your nose is stuffy and eyes are puffy so you figured you’d save the world from looking at you, a sad mess. You try to distract yourself with some tv, but even that reminds of you Mark. So you opt for the news, and thankfully it’s reported that the remaining lost Avengers are back and safe. It’s the only thing that brings a smile on your face that day, because at least one of your lost loves hasn’t disappointed you.

It doesn’t keep you happy for long though, as the hours go by and you’re still all alone in bed. You attempt to do some homework on your laptop that night and copy notes of today’s class from one of your classmates via screenshot.

You’re in the middle of a paragraph when you hear light tapping on your window and freeze. The tapping continues and you’re confused, because you’re on the top floor. So who the hell is out there?

Sitting up, you pull the curtain back to see a familiar red and blue mask looking at you. Gasping, you open the window for him. “Can I come in?” Spiderman asks, holding himself on a web with ease. You nod slowly and scoot aside to give him room. He climbs in and looks around your dorm.

“Cute room,” he says and turns back to you but you’re still gaping at him.

“How do you- How did you find me?” you stutter and he chuckles lightly.

“I have my ways, just came by to check on the cute girl I rescued a while ago,” he flirts, causing you to blush. Holy shit! Spiderman is in your room! Flirting with you!

“Are you okay? I heard you were trapped?” You ask him, trying to keep your cool.

“Yeah but I'm okay, got out of there alive so,” he laughs awkwardly, and suddenly you get a sense of familiarity from him, “whatcha doing?”

“Notes, missed class today,” you say, and he tsks.

“How come?” He turns his mask covered head to the side in question.

“Didn’t feel well, stress, some problems I’m having,” you say sadly, but give him a fake smile to cover it, “no biggie.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Spiderman, are you telling me you snuck into my room at 12am to talk about my life problems?” You joke, giving him a real smile this time.

“Hey, problems are problems, even if they're not life or death, I’m still here for everyone.”

“It’s nothing, I’m just stupid sometimes,” you shake your head, “I thought this boy liked me but guess I wasn’t good enough. I should’ve known, my fault.”

“How do you know he doesn’t like you? Did he say he didn’t?”

“Well no but he hurt me, he ignored me for a long time and pretended like I didn’t exist,” you retort and he nods.

“Did you let him explain why? Maybe he had a good reason.” He defends, and you give him a slight frown.

“Who’s side are you on?” You tilt your head, “I hope you’re on mine, I mean he broke my heart. I cried for days over him, he lied to me and told me that he loves me but ignores me? What’s there to explain?”

Spiderman looks down at his lap for a moment before standing up and pacing around the room.

“Y/n,” he says, finally turning to you, “he is sorry, he wants to tell you what happened, but if you would just let him explain. He didn’t want to leave you that night, he wasn’t going to until there was an emergency.”

“Huh? How do you know he left?” You ask him, puzzled, “did Mark put you up to this?”

“No gosh, Y/n,” he groans before shaking his head, “I am Mark.”

“What? That doesn’t make sense? How can you be Mark? You’re Spiderman!”

He doesn’t answer but takes a deep breath, before lifting his mask and revealing his identity. Truth be told, Mark is behind it with a nervous look on his face and your eyes widen.

“Mark! Oh my god,” you blink repeatedly, “you’re actually him?”

“I am, I was going to tell you after that night but then,” he winces at the memory, “I had to leave, I was supposed to come back before you even woke up but some of us were stranded in another galaxy.”

“So you didn’t leave on purpose? You were gonna come back?”

He nods, “I’m really sorry y/n, if I had known I’d be gone for so long I would’ve told you.”

The room is quiet for a few moments and Mark is standing there unsure if you believe him and if you’re going to kick him out again.

“Mark,” you whisper, instantly running towards him to hug him. He sighs in relief, holding you tightly. His body starts to shake like he’s scared that if he lets you go, you’ll leave.

“I’m sorry Mark,” you mumble into his suit with wet tears, “I should’ve let you explain.”

“It’s okay,” he rubs your back, “we’re okay now, I’m never leaving you again.”

You hold each other for a long time, swaying a bit as you wipe your tears. He lifts your chin and kisses you softly on the mouth, then your nose and cheeks.

“So you saved me that day?” You ask and he nods shyly. “So you were my hero? That’s pretty hot.”

“It was nothing really,” he blushes, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Remember what I told you that night?”

“What?” He asks as you stare at him coyly before realizing what you meant, “oh, oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you kiss his cheek, then his lips softly, before going down his strong jaw and neck. Suckling on the supple skin, you give him a love bite, proudly claiming him as yours. He moans at the feeling, before bringing your mouth to his again. Your arms wrap around his neck and his roam down your body until they reach your legs. He lifts them, wrapping them around his waist with ease like you weigh as much as a feather and takes you towards your bed.

You lay back and his kisses go down your neck. His hands cup one of your breasts through your shirt, and he feels the peaks as you’re not wearing a bra.

Mark breaks away from your mouth for a moment to lift your shirt over your head, before sucking on one of your nipples. He holds the other in his hand, moving in circular motions. You hum in delight and he smiles, kissing down your tummy. You know what his next move is but you stop his hands from reaching your waistband. “Wait Mark,” you mumble, bringing him back up to meet your lips, “I can’t wait anymore, I really want you inside of me.”

“O-Oh, yeah, sure,” his eyes widened and Mark stands up, tapping on his chest to release his suit, falling to his knees. He trips on the material as he tries to get out of it, causing a laugh to come from you. “Sorry, sorry!”

Finally when he’s all composed, he towers over you, “hi,” he says shyly and you giggle.

“God I love you,” you smile and he says it back, kissing you once more.

Your bottoms come off along with his and he hisses when your wet lips come in contact with the tip of dick. “Do you have, uh, a condom?”

You shake your head, “no but I’m clean, and on birth control.”

“Oh thank god,” he whispers and slides his tip between your lower lips, collecting your arousal for lubrication. Finally, he pushes in and pulls out halfway to get you used to his size. “Please Mark,” you raise your hips and his dick pushes all the way in.

“Oh my, fuck,” Mark groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder as he bottoms out, “you’re so tight.” He starts a pace, moving faster with every thrust until he has you a mess underneath him.

“Yes just like that,” you moan, watching where your bodies meet. You feel so full, better than you ever have before and he fits inside of you perfectly, hitting all the spots that have you seeing stars.

His movements never falter and you’d like to thank his superhero strength for it. “I’m gonna come,” you whimper, holding onto his forearms.

And as if he couldn’t move any faster, he does and it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Come for me baby,” he tells you, his voice deeper than usual. It’s all it takes for you to get to your high, scratching down his back as your body shakes.

He slows his thrusts so you can catch your breath. You take whatever strength you have left to push Mark on to the bed, straddling his waist. Putting him back in, you move your hips up and down slowly, watching his reaction. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, sweat cascading down his body and his soft hair is sticking in different places. He looks so sexy and it only encourages you further to ride him harder.

“You have no idea how long–oh fuck,” he groans when you swivel your hips, “how long I’ve dreamt of you riding me like this.”

You continue to move up and down, back and forth until he’s gripping your hips harshly, so sure enough there will be marks in the morning. Mark is a complete mess at your touch, muttering praises and groans into the air. You’re so close again already but you want to make him feel good, so you tighten yourself around him.

“F-Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he gasps, throwing his head back, “keep riding me just like that.” You lift your hips higher and move harder on his cock until he’s crying out your name with a curse.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, filling you with streams of his warm arousal.

Mark shutters under you until he’s completely soft and you lift off of him. His come runs down your thigh and he quickly grabs a tissue from your nightstand to clean you up. Wiping himself down, he tosses it in your trash bin before giving you a shy smile. You both climb into your bed and under the sheets to enjoy a bit of cuddling and pillow talk.

Hours go by before you know it, and you snuggle into his neck tiredly. “Mm, ‘missed you,” Mark mumbles, keeping you close to him.

“I missed you too,” you smile, “missed spiderman too.”

“Yeah? You still in love with him?” he looks at you and jokes.

“Mm, not really,” you shake your head and Mark furrows his brows, “I’m in love with you, the nerdy and goofy version of you.”

“Doesn’t sound very cool,” he scrunches his nose.

“Yeah, well, who do you prefer? Spiderman, the one who has to fight crime all day? Or Mark Lee, the one I get to ride everyday now?” You kiss his neck and he shivers at your words.

“Mark Lee sounds pretty cool now I think about it,” he mumbles.

“Really now? Well then you better come here, bugboy,” you whisper, bringing him in for another kiss.

His phone buzzes loudly, breaking the kiss and he reaches over. Reading the text, Mark gives you a look of worry but you shake your head.

“Go get ‘em Spiderman,” you smile proudly and he kisses you sweetly. Getting his suit back on, he slips his mask over his face, “I’ll be back this time, I promise!”

“Good, I love you Mark.”

“I love you too,” he tells you lovingly, before opening your window and jumping out smoothly.

Who would’ve thought your high school crush would be your college boyfriend? And a hot fricking superhero!

a/n: thank u god for mark lee and spiderman

#spiderman #mark lee #mark lee!spiderman #nct mark #nct smut #nct mark lee #nct 127 #nct spiderman #nct #nct angst #mark lee angst #mark lee smut #mark lee nct #mark smut #mark angst #mark lee spiderman #mark lee au #mark lee fluff

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Modern Love, 1/12 (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

fic summary: Brooke Lynn is a 23 year old graduate writing boring, uninspired pieces for the fashion department of a newspaper and living in a city all her friends have moved away from. Silky is living at her parents’ house and spends her days applying for jobs she’s promptly rejected for. Nina and Monet are struggling through their first year as teachers whilst being sickeningly adorable girlfriends. Akeria is pursuing her dream of being a badass lawyer, even if her master’s degree is slowly crushing her soul. Plastique is acting like the second coming of Paris Hilton, so nothing there has changed. Scarlet is overworked and Yvie is underpaid and their relationship isn’t all it appears from the outside.

And Vanessa? Vanessa is nowhere to be seen.

(A story about a holiday, a breakup, friendships and relationships in a post-graduate world, careers, navigating life after university, figuring out what it means to be an adult, and coming to terms with the fact that we really are not nineteen forever.)

a/n: welcome to the sequel to Not Nineteen Forever!!! i should say it’s not *~ mandatory ~* to have read the original before this but it’s encouraged huehue xo hope u enjoy and please feel free to reblog, like and send love!!

***

Brooke felt the all-encompassing sense of dread wash over her as her alarm went off, the sounds of the radio that were gradually fading in doing nothing to make the experience of waking up for another day of work any more palatable. She groaned loudly as she stretched, her arms flying out to the side and hitting the edge of the double bed. Brooke starfished a little, stretching her legs out as long as they would go and trying to put off getting up and showered for as long as she could.

Rolling over in bed she reached for her phone and stopped when she saw the rose-gold rectangular frame beside her on the bedside table. It caught her by surprise every day, almost a sort of routine in itself. A picture of her and Vanessa from when they first moved in, standing at the doorway having just popped a bottle of champagne. Brooke’s face was in a funny contorted sort of smile as she yanked the cork out of the bottle and Vanessa was clapping her hands in excitement, a brilliant white moonbeam painted across her face. Brooke remembered the day well. Monet had taken the photo with Nina beside her, both of them still in their work clothes after they’d visited straight from a hard day full of teaching. Akeria, Silky, Plastique, Scarlet and Yvie had all been inside, shuffling through the huge variety of Domino’s pizza boxes that had just arrived at their door like a deck of cards. That night had been so special. Whatever had happened since then, Brooke would probably treasure that memory forever.

In spite of herself she smiled as she looked at the photograph, then turned her attention to her phone screen.

No notifications. She didn’t know why she expected anything more.

With a cloud over her head that matched the ones in the uncharacteristically grey June sky, Brooke brushed her teeth and peeled her pyjamas off before stepping into the shower and adjusting the dial to somewhere between tepid and warm. Vanessa’s shower gel sat in the corner, the tropical fruit and mint one with little tiny sloths all over the front. Brooke found herself hurting as she looked at it, still loath to use it as she took her own from the opposite side and splatted a huge dollop into her shower puff. Sometimes she used it indulgently, like a secret she shared with herself. She didn’t know whether she’d buy more when it ran out. That was something she still needed to think about.

Once she was clean Brooke briskly dried herself with a towel, sitting on the edge of the bed wrapped in it as she carefully blow-dried out her hair. She picked out her outfit: smart black work trousers with a fabric belt that pulled her in at the waist, a black and white patterned shirt, black stiletto heels. As she painted some minimal makeup on her face in the hope it would make her look less like a sleep-deprived zombie and more like she had her life together in some way, Brooke checked the clock and cursed as she realised she was running behind.

Leaving lipstick for the moment, she grabbed her bag, shoved her feet in a pair of black pumps, and left hurriedly for the train. Breakfast wasn’t a priority; she knew she could grab an iced coffee and a croissant from the cafe in the station in between changing trains, as it took her two to get into work. It was times such as these that she wished she knew how to drive like Monet, Plastique and Akeria, or had learned since uni like Nina or Scarlet. But then again, cafe food for breakfast was one of the very few perks of public transport.

Brooke eventually arrived at the huge concrete block with windows that held her offices, taking the elevator up to the fifth floor, clocking in, shooting a lacklustre “hi” to the girls she sometimes chatted to and settling herself in at her desk. As office positions went, Brooke supposed it wasn’t awful- it was beside the window looking out onto the streets of the city below and it provided some much-needed light to her day. Logging on to her work laptop, she checked her emails (one from her boss about the article due for Friday, and one from Cheryl about money for flowers for somebody going on maternity leave that she’d never met or heard of and might not even have worked there).

Her working day had started.

University hadn’t prepared Brooke for graduate life. It hadn’t prepared her for the fact that friends moved away for jobs and houses and flats, internships and apprenticeships and postgrads and masters. It hadn’t prepared her for the fact that her group chat, once flooded with about a hundred messages if she so much as left it for five minutes, gathered dust as everyone’s lives took over. It hadn’t prepared Brooke for the feeling of missing out on something…Christ knows what. Perhaps living, making memories instead of simply swiping through ones already made on a Saturday night spent alone in bed with a bottle of wine to herself. It hadn’t prepared her for the yearning, the regret at having taken those days for granted when they were the happiest of her life and she hadn’t even realised it. If Brooke had known how soul-crushingly boring her life would be once she got that rolled-up piece of paper in a little tube she would’ve been dragging the girls out every single night. The all-encompassing sadness and longing for something better hit her harder on days like these, sepia ones with big clouds that hung ominously in the sky but never gave her the satisfaction of raining. She supposed that feeling had only been exacerbated by…

She didn’t need to remind herself of that.

It was ten o’clock in the morning and Brooke was staring out of the small office window stupefied with boredom when her phone vibrated. She jumped, pouncing on it as she always did whenever a notification went off. Her phone hadn’t been on silent for a full month. It hadn’t been the person she’d wanted or expected, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

Silk: HEY GIRL LONG TIME NO SPEAK! I’M GONNA BE IN TOWN THIS AFTERNOON FOR AN INTERVIEW BUT I’LL BE FREE AFTER AND I’VE GOT A COUPLE HOURS TO KICK ABOUT UNTIL MY TRAIN. YOU WANNA GRAB DINNER? XXXXXXXXX

Brooke frantically made plans as if she was under a time limit, as if the moment would slip through her fingers like sand in an hourglass. She suggested some restaurants that she knew wouldn’t eat into either of their fragile graduate salaries and they settled on an Italian in the city centre, where the portions were big and the meals were tasty.

Brooke spent the rest of the day looking forward to meeting her friend. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Silky. Maybe it had been as long ago as New Year. Brooke smiled as she remembered the occasion; all of them cramming into Scarlet and Yvie’s flat to see in the year. Silky and Akeria had got too drunk off prosecco and screamed along to JLS, Scarlet and Yvie had both made a buffet to rival a hotel’s, and Nina, Monet, Vanessa and Brooke had all been tangled up in an almost relationship-ruining game of Articulate. Plastique had brought her new girlfriend Naomi to introduce to everyone and the girl had looked ever so slightly alarmed by the sheer chaos of everyone put together, but she’d laughed and joined in all the same.

That had been another happy memory. Those seemed to be hard to come by these days.

Work dragged. It always did. Brooke managed to write three sub-par articles that she sent to her editor at the end of the day anyway because hell, it was their job to turn carbon into diamonds. So when she hopped on the train back into the city, Brooke felt a little buzz in her veins that she hadn’t felt in a while.

It took her until she saw Silky standing outside the restaurant- hair in a bun full of flyaways, eyebrows still Sharpied on, in a pair of smart trousers and a floaty top- that Brooke realised that part of the reason she was so excited was because she’d been so lonely for such a long time. Well, only really a month, but it felt like a year. It had taken her living on her own to realise just how boring her life was without all her friends so constantly part of it, and now they all had their own lives and schedules it only served to show Brooke how empty her own was without…

Well. Without her.

As soon as Silky looked up from her phone and spotted Brooke her face lit up, and she fixed her with a smile and a screech that Brooke never thought she would have missed hearing but by God, she had.

“BROOKE LYNN!” she screamed, followed by lots of squealing and babbling as she wrapped the taller girl in a tight hug and refused to let go for at least twenty seconds. Brooke didn’t mind and she found herself clinging back, Silky suddenly the loudest anchor she’d never known she needed. When Silky finally pulled away she grabbed Brooke by both wrists, shaking her back and forth a little. “Oh my God, BITCH! Oh my God. FUCK! It’s so good to see you. How the fuck are you?”

Brooke appreciated that- Silky asking how she was. Yvie tiptoed around Brooke’s feelings when they texted and Brooke tiptoed around her and Scarlet’s perfect domestic bliss, both of the subjects too touchy for Brooke and the pair of them instead choosing to communicate via meme. Nina barely had time to breathe these days let alone text back, and Plastique…well, Plastique wouldn’t get it.

None of them would, she supposed.

“I’m…I’m surviving! I’m being an adult, I guess, and this is what life is now. How’re you?” Brooke swiftly moved the conversation on, and Silky took the hint and dropped both her wrists, pushing open the door.

“I’m on cloud fuckin’ nine girl. C’mon, let’s get some vino an’ I’ll catch you up on the world of Ms. Ganache! Think of it as a free episode of the reality TV show that is my life.”

“Let’s be real, Silk. If anyone’s life’s like a reality TV show right now, it’s mine,” Brooke raised her eyebrows, not quite committing to her own attempt at being lighthearted and instead couldn’t have sounded more bitter if she’d eaten an entire lemon with its rind on.

Silky, for her part, shrugged and let out a small sigh. “You ain’t wrong, girl, you ain’t wrong. But the offer of wine still stands, so let’s get sat. Where the damn hell is a waiter?”

They eventually got shown to their table and the conversation flowed frantically and excitedly, mirroring the wine. Silky filled Brooke in on every last detail of her life- most importantly, Brooke thought, was that Silky’s parents who she was back living with had adopted a cocker spaniel puppy called Pooch. Graduate life had been tough on Silky; she still hadn’t managed to get a job and so therefore couldn’t afford to rent a flat, so she’d moved back to her sleepy and uninspiring hometown. Living with her parents, she’d groaned, was beginning to chip away at her; the constant pressure they put on Silky to find a job, move out, get a boyfriend, and lose weight was beginning to grow wearing in the extreme, and Brooke didn’t blame her for being fed up.

“You know you’re always welcome to come chill at mine, you know. If it’s getting particularly rough,” Brooke suggested not-quite-casually, glad of the fact that loneliness didn’t have a scent because if it did she’d be reeking of it.

Silky gave a bashful smile, looking down at her half-eaten plate of spaghetti bolognaise in front of her. “You’re a doll, B, but you know I can’t do an hour on the train any time my Mama tuts at me buying a size XL of anything. In fact therapy’s probably cheaper than a train ticket here but realistically I don’t got the money for either, so…thanks, but in the words of Simon Cowell, issa no from me.”

“That’s okay. I get it, Mums are simultaneously the worst and the best people,” Brooke pulled a face. Thinking about her Mum made her wonder when the last time she texted her was. She felt a little ashamed for not knowing off the top of her head. “But hey, at least you got that interview, right? How did it go?”

“Alright,” Silky muttered in a non-committal way. It was the most un-Silky response Brooke thought she’d ever seen her friend give. It was weird and unpleasant; the Silky from uni would’ve yelled the place down about how she’d aced it, how they’d make her the chief editor right there and then, how she could write an article for them entirely in Wingdings and it’d still be the best thing they’d read all day.

Seemingly picking up on Brooke’s discomfort, Silky gave a small laugh. “I don’ know, boo…I used to be so sure of myself, I used to be so set in the fact that writing was somethin’ I was good at. When I was a kid I used to write these fuckin’ huge stories…pages an’ pages long that my teachers would pull big overexaggerated smiley faces at an’ squeal over an’ put big glittery star stickers on. I thought I was somethin’ special. An’ then uni, y’know…I was a small fish in a big pond- hell, a big fish in a big pond- but I still thought I was the shit even when I got bad grades. I thought my markers just didn’t get it, that they were the ones that were wrong. But now it’s like…”

Silky heaved a sigh and put her fork and spoon together neatly on top of her half-full plate. “…I can’t even get a job at a fuckin’ local rag, so why the hell am I even tryin’ with the big city offices?”

There was something about it all that made Brooke’s heart break all over again, the way that life after uni had worn Silky down to the extent where she didn’t even know if she was good at anything any more, didn’t have much visible self-worth left. Silky had always been the heart and soul of their group; she, Akeria and Vanessa, and in the time it had taken between now and graduation Akeria had become the polar opposite of Silky- so completely embroiled in her quest to become a barrister that she barely had time to reply to any of them any more.

And Vanessa…well. She knew where Vanessa was. Or rather, she didn’t.

Greece was a big country.

“You’re trying because you’re Big Silky Nutmeg Motherfucking Ganache,” Brooke said with a determination she’d not felt in a while. “Come on Silk, you’re you. If grad life has broken you then what the fuck hope is there for any of us?”

( Any of us sounded better than me , Brooke thought.)

“Kiki’s doin’ okay for herself,” Silky shrugged, her downtrodden tone counteracted by the way she picked up her fork again and twirled a single strand of spaghetti around it, eating it once she was finished speaking.

“Kiki’s vagina-deep in a hellish and all-consuming masters degree that’s probably eating her up from the inside out just as much as everybody else’s jobs are. I mean, are any of us doing anything we actually like?”

“Nina an’ Monet? They’da quit by now if they hated teaching so much.”

“Nina West would join the fucking scientologists and stick it out just so she could say she didn’t give up. She’s the final boss of the term mama didn’t raise a quitter . They’re having a hard time, Silk. We all are. It’s just tough because we’re all so busy and shit at keeping in touch that everybody thinks each others’ lives are perfect but…they’re really not.”

“Yvie and Scarlet seem pretty happy.”

Brooke’s face took on an involuntary look of distaste, so irritated and bitter was she at the image of them and their perfect flat and their perfect jobs and their perfect coupley life. “They’ll have something up, nobody’s life is that perfect. Maybe their relationship’s secretly falling apart or…something, fuck, I don’t know.”

There was a beat of silence in which Brooke finished the last little pocket of tortellini she’d ordered and Silky twirled another mouthful of spaghetti around her fork. She chewed, then shrugged thoughtfully, her head tilting a little. “Y’know we should go on holiday. Fuck all this shit off for a week, get away from it all.”

Brooke’s eyebrows raised in appreciation of the idea. She and the girls had never been away together before and the prospect of lying on a beach doing absolutely nothing under the blazing sun was an inviting one. “What, a girls’ trip? Like in Sex and The City?”

“Mhm. ‘Cept we go on an all-inclusive to the Med ‘stead of Mexico ‘cause ain’t none of us can afford that shit.”

“Except Plastique.”

“True. Fuck that bitch. She could prolly buy Mexico.”

Brooke laughed and for the first time in a good few months she felt a little flicker of excitement lick at her heart, so much so that she could see her pulse race at her wrist. She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “Oh my God. I’m so in. Let’s do it.”

“We have to get all the girls on board, though. Otherwise there ain’t no point.”

“Definitely. Where should we go? Spain’s always good.”

Silky had her phone out and was typing furiously. She paused as something presumably loaded, then her face lit up. “If we go the week after Nina an’ Monet finish up school for Summer we can get flights to Crete for £20 return.”

“Twenty, what the fuck? That can’t be right,” Brooke screwed up her face in disbelief, and Silky cocked an eyebrow at her as she showed her the proof on her screen. Conceding, Brooke shrugged. “That’s so good. I don’t want to know what that plane’s like though. They probably just stuff you all into a tin can and ping you into the air with a giant rubber band.”

Silky howled with laughter and thumped the table so hard that the wine sloshed about in their glasses, little tiny red tsunamis. As Brooke snorted in response purely to Silky’s own mirth, a small thought set off a little drip of dread that threatened to put out the excitement that had only just begun to burn in her chest.

“Where is Crete again?”

Silky let out an unimpressed breath from her nose. “Bitch, you got all the geography skills of a Love Island contestant. It’s just off the Greek coast. Kinda near Turkey too, but it’s Greece.”

Brooke felt her heart drop, Alton Towers Oblivion all over again. She blinked quickly, tried to hide her discomfort. “Well, we’re not going there.”

Silky gave a small sigh, a little hint of resignation or long-suffering to it that Brooke didn’t appreciate. But when she reached over the table and patted her hand on top of Brooke’s, she felt a little bit more understood, a little bit more validated.

“B, Greece is a big place.”

It was the exact same thing Brooke herself had thought earlier, except now it didn’t seem true. Now, with the prospect of going there, it seemed like the tiniest microcosm of society. The world was simultaneously too big and too small, and Brooke felt the cold drip in her heart get worse. “Silky…”

“Look. We ain’t exactly gonna pick the same place she’s at, are we?”

Brooke put her head in her hands and sighed. “She’s not there anymore.”

“What?”

“I phoned the hotel a week ago to try and speak to her. I was going to fly out, try and talk to her and fix things. They said she didn’t work there anymore. So I don’t even know where she is at all.”

Silky huffed, frowning and concerned. “I’m sorry, Brooke, this shit must’ve been hell.”

“You’ve got no idea.”

There was a pause as Silky pushed her food around her plate. “Crete’s small, but it ain’t that small. We still got a one in a million chance of bumpin’ into her if we go.”

“That’s still too small for my liking. Both the island and the chances.”

“Aight, one in a billion. Trillion. Point is, it ain’t gonna happen. An’ besides…” Silky waggled her eyebrows, flashing her phone screen at Brooke again. “Twenty pounds for the first week of the school holidays. This shit’s like gold dust.”

Brooke smiled slowly in spite of herself. Maybe Silky was right. And maybe it would be fun to swan around Greece, eat seafood and pretend to be in some knockoff version of Mamma Mia. Scratch that, it would be fun. She’d get to spend a week surrounded by her friends in the sun, which was what she badly needed at the moment.

Brooke was nodding before she knew it. “Okay, fine. Crete it is.”

“YES, bitch!” Silky cheered, loud enough to be heard by the entire restaurant and possibly the chefs in the kitchen too. “Now let’s get dessert. All this wine needs soaked up by a big slice of sticky toffee puddin’.”

It was easy to feel optimistic with Silky back being her loud and just-the-right-side-of-obnoxious self, and with a plate of tiramisu in front of her. But after they’d finished up, paid their bill and she’d hugged Silky goodbye at the train station, Brooke found the endorphins wearing off as she got back to her dark flat and into her cold bed. Maybe it was because she was finally coming down from the high of meeting up with a beloved friend, maybe it was because she knew she had another monotonous, greyscale day of work to get through tomorrow.

Or perhaps, Brooke thought as she turned over in bed, caught sight of the familiar rose-gold frame and blew it a kiss, she was simply missing her girlfriend.

If she could even call Vanessa that any more.

#rpdr fanfiction #s11 #modern love #ortega #n19f #branjie #background scyvie #background ninex #lesbian au #angst #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #silky nutmeg ganache

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firemblem-fics · 4 years

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Running With the Wolves [1]

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-> Yuri Leclarc x Fem!Reader

-> Modern!Au | Gang!Au | Enemies to Lovers

-> Word Count: ~3.3k

-> Warnings: Violence, Blood, Cursing, Weapons

-> Summary: You were just a normal college student, trying to find her way in a new place. You didn’t mean to get caught up in the wrong crowd. You just wanted coffee, but now you’re running with the wolves.

-> A/N: SURPRISE I POSTED IT EARLY ! thanks to my lovely beta readers for helping me revise and edit this chapter to make it better! i’m still in a writing mental block but i think this is one step closer to getting out of it! so, please enjoy (again)! also, all characters are aged up (21+)! also y’all should reblog this so it gets out more 🥺

send me an ask if you’d like to be on the taglist!

"Fuck- She's losing too much blood, Boss, she's not gonna make it!"

"No, no. She's going to make it- I'll make sure of it. Stay alive!"

Your vision was dark and blurry- you couldn't quite see anything. You could only make out a few silhouettes hovering above you, each one rushing around and yelling frantically. You couldn't count how many were there. Your vision kept doubling and it was hard to discern one person from three. Focusing just caused things to get worse.

"Someone put pressure on the damn wound! She certainly won't make it if you all keep messing around."

It was only now that you noticed a sharp pain radiating from your chest, right below your ribs. You gasped loudly and coughed. It hurt worse than the throbbing that already coursed through your head. Your body burned.

Trying to look down, you saw a rag soaked in blood. Hands with bright nails pressed down on your wound to slow the flow, but it didn't seem to be helping. You started feeling dizzy and laid back again, clenching your eyes tight as nausea engulfed you.

"No, keep your eyes open, Y/N, dammit! Wake up!"

Slowly, the pain began fading, as did your view of the people above you and their voices. You could still barely hear the voice crying, sobbing out your name. Whoever they were, they were crushed.

"Wake up!"

Was that voice finally fading away too?

"Wake up!"

No- it was getting louder.

"Wake up!"

"Ellie, what the fuck do you want?" You groaned, rolling over on your bed.

Your roommate bounced on her knees, making your bed creak loudly. "What do you mean? It's like 10am, your class is at 11. Don’t talk to me with that tone of voice."

"Fuck me."

"Absolutely not, baby." Ellie smacked a pillow beside you and got up. "Get ready!" She went to her own room, leaving you to your own devices.

When you applied for an apartment roommate, Ellie was certainly not the one you were expecting. You would've preferred a chill, laid-back, person. Instead, Eleonora Yumizuru walked into your life (and apartment) and practically made herself at home. She didn't judge you from transferring so far away from your old home for your last year of college, claiming that "home roots don't mean shit when it comes to making it in the real world".

She had the right to say such a thing, having moved to Fodlan from another country in her youth. She was able to understand the occasional homesickness and help you cope as you adjusted to Fodlan life. She understood you like the back of her hand from the moment you met and you did the same for her.

Really, you had to let her move in. She’d probably have stayed even if you rejected her.

She was the complete opposite of what you were looking for- overconfident, stubborn, loud- but she grew on you and easily became your best friend. There was just something about the bubbly, blue-eyed, blonde-bobbed bitch that hooked you.

She had certainly hooked other people as well, but thank God her bedroom is on the other side of the apartment. Her social skills and magnetic personality worked for platonic friends and acquaintances as well. Ellie was constantly bringing over friends, allowing you to expand your own circle. She was heaven-sent for a newbie like you.

You sat up from your bed, yawning and stretching. Trudging to your bathroom, you rolled your eyes as the infamous Taylor Swift blared through Ellie's speakers, "Shake it Off" shaking the entire apartment. Nothing against T. Swift, but sometimes she was not the first thing you want to hear when you wake up. At least not at max volume. Ignoring the song switching to "You Belong With Me" -another banger from Swift herself, but really "Teardrops on My Guitar” was your favorite- you finished getting ready and lazed into Ellie's room.

"I've got class 'till late today." You sat on her bed. "Do you want me to pick up dinner? It’ll let me explore the area."

"Oh, please do. You need to get out more. But where?"

You shrugged. "There's really only like two good food places here. Golden Pizza and Blue Lion Buffet. Your choice."

Ellie thought for a moment. "I went to the buffet with my little friend Touma the other day... so pizza! I just can't choose a side in their little spat."

"Spat?" You tilted your head.

"Goodness, Y/N! I know you're a little new here, but you haven't even heard of the shit that goes on between those restaurant owners?"

Shaking your head, you stayed silent for her to continue.

"The owners of Blue Lion Buffet, Eagle's Freezery, and Golden Pizza are all huge rivals. I heard they were all close, but went their separate ways. All the owners' kids are our age, too. They go to Fodlan Uni, but I don't know who they are." She smiled. "I am an esteemed woman with an upcoming high status. Who would I be to take sides? I prefer to cater to them all."

You could only nod, hiding a smirk at Ellie’s infatuation of fame. A huge restaurant rivalry. How funny. "What about that little cafe on the corner? What's it called? Café des Loups?"

"They're pretty neutral, just some college dropouts trying to make some money. I think they’re gonna get involved eventually- every restaurant’s been dragged into their drama at least once."

You nodded, standing up and messing with your apartment keys. "I'll keep that in mind. Bye, Ellie!"

"Bye! I better see some pizza later!" She called as you made your way out of the apartment, now playing "I Knew You Were Trouble".

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

College was honestly a scam.

You sat in the classes for two hours at a time, for what? You were paying thousands of dollars to be talked at by old dusty men who made you fall asleep faster than trying to read their overpriced textbooks. You paid thousands to nap at a desk.

Unfortunately for you, though, your thousand dollar desk nap was interrupted by a tapping on the surface. You huffed and looked up, coming face to face with a pair of soft, orange eyes. They radiated kindness and just looking into them seemed to lift your mood immediately.

"Hey, you need to wake up for this part. The professor said there's gonna be a quiz on this section tomorrow."

You shot up, looking back at your professor. Blushing embarrassedly, you smiled at the boy. "Thank you..."

"Ferdinand." He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth, as if to conceal his smile, before giving up and returning yours just as brightly.

As you faced forward to Professor Hanneman, as you were pretty sure his name was- or was it Ham Man? You didn’t care enough to know- you were now struggling with two distractions. One, the weight of your eyelids as they threatened to pull you back into dreamland. Two, Ferdinand.

You kept glancing at him, taking in his complexion. He must have come to class late, since you didn't see him before. Or maybe he was on time- you did fall asleep quite early into the lecture.

You were eyeing his carefully sculpted jawline, dotted with subtle stubble that connected to sideburns and led up to clean, silky, orange hair. You wished to run your fingers through it-

"Y/N, this is the second time I've seen you not paying attention." You jumped nearly three feet in the air. "Next time, I'll have to ask you to leave my class since you are obviously taking it as a joke."

"I-I'm not joking! Sorry!" You stuttered, finally finding a reason to keep your attention on the lecture. You did look away once, just to glare at Ferdinand, who only winked and chuckled at your misfortune.

Class was eventually over and you sighed, finally loosening up from forcing yourself to pay attention. You packed your notebook and laptop and swung your backpack on, getting ready to leave the room before a voice called to you.

You turned back. "Ferdinand?"

"I was simply wondering where your next class was. I can walk you to it, if you'd like." Said boy walked quickly towards you, holding himself with a nearly-perfect posture. You felt anxious- he was trying to make himself seem like a gentleman, but you still felt a little unnerved.

"Oh, um, sure! It's not for another fifteen minutes, but it is across campus."

Ferdinand's grin seemed to get larger, making his eyes crinkle at the edges. "How wonderful! That little café is down there and I've been meaning to check it out anyways. It works out perfectly."

"Uh, yeah." You laughed nervously. This was the first time a boy had taken interest in you- or was he really interested? Maybe he's just being nice-

"Also, before I forget. May I get your number? I'd like to talk to such a gorgeous woman like you a little more."

Oh, he was so interested. You had to make yourself breathe again as you handed him your phone to let him put his number in. He gave it back to you and you noticed a heart and a smiley face emoticon next to his contact name. Your heart fluttered at the sight of the emojis and you felt your cheeks heat up a bit. Ferdinand gave you a sweet smile before holding the door open for you, letting you lead the way to your next class.

On the way to the building, Ferdinand spent the time asking you questions and getting to know you better. He had scratched basically the entire surface of you, save for the secrets that new people shouldn't know, and the same could be said for you. Ferdinand was definitely a polished and refined man. He made quite the impression on you.

"What are you doing after classes?" You asked, hoping to invite him for pizza at your apartment.

"Ah, I've got work!" He smiled sheepishly. He definitely caught onto your hopes...

"Really? Where? Maybe after, you could stop by for some Golden Pizza-"

"Actually, I work at the Eagles Freezery." He was tense, suddenly. "So I really shouldn't. Rivalry and all of that, you know?"

You were a little confused, actually. "Why would that prevent you from hanging out for a bit? You didn't buy it, I did. Plus I thought the rivalry was only between the buffet and the pizza place?”

"It's- it's a loyalty thing. It’s between all three of us.”

"It's a restaurant. How loyal could you possibly be to a dumb little ice cream parlor-"

"It's more than that!" Ferdinand snapped his mouth closed, suddenly making himself quiet after his angry outburst. "Listen, I cannot and will not eat there, look at it, talk about it, or do literally anything about it. Please, just understand that."

"Uh, yeah." You nervously readjusted your backpack on your shoulder. "I- I should get to class now. I'll see you later, Ferdinand."

"Goodbye, I'll message you after work!" With that, he sent you a wink and a smile and turned, going about his own day with the most carefree pep in his step. As if nothing ever happened. You, on the other hand, could not have been more confused. Ferdinand seemed unpredictable when it came to his moods. He was comforting and kind, yet was so… upset when you insulted the parlor. It was a restaurant. Why did he get so worked up about it? Maybe Ellie was right about it being such a big deal.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“I just ordered! Go, go, I’m starving!”

Not even five minutes after you got out of your last class, Ellie was calling to remind you about dinner. You were still slightly unnerved from your encounter with Ferdinand, but you agreed to pick it up and would never hear the end of it if you didn’t do something as simple as takeout.

Golden Pizza was only about two blocks away and you stayed on the phone with your roommate the entire time, only saying goodbye as you walked in the establishment. The restaurant was very nice, the honey yellow walls and the glow of the wood-fired oven making the ambience warm and welcoming. You didn’t wait long in the line, soon coming up to meet a boy about your age with a glimmering emerald gaze and a smile just as bright at the front counter.

“Hi!” The boy- Claude, according to his nametag- greeted, “How can I help you?”

“I’m just picking up an order for Eleonora Yumizuru.”

Claude nodded and typed a few things into a computer at the counter. “I know Ellie! She and I had Stats together before she dropped out to pursue her acting career. She’s certainly something.”

“Oh, definitely. I’m her roommate.” Speaking of the devil, your phone vibrated in your pocket. It was a message from her. “She actually just messaged me. Wants me to bring her a dumb little lemonade from that cafe.”

Claude laughed, “You can go and get it now, if you’d like. Your pizza will be a few more minutes. Ellie set the time for your pickup for later, so you’re actually ten minutes early.”

You thanked him and left, walking to the cafe. You took your time, observing the shops around you. Across the street from Golden Pizza stood the Blue Lion Buffet. You smiled to yourself- what a cliche to have rivals across from each other. Beside the pizza parlor was another food shop, the Eagles Freezery. You thought about Ferdinand- he said he was working today. Maybe you could drop by and- No. No, Y/N. Go get your lemonade and go.

A soft bell chimed as you opened the door. You saw four people in cafe uniforms, going about their day as you approached the register.

“Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Constance, that’s only used for a home.”

You shyly waved at the so-called Constance and the pink-haired girl who corrected her. Cafe des Loups- or Cafe of Wolves- was a quaint place, quiet and not crowded, kind of like an off-brand Starbucks. Dim lights adorned the high black ceiling, illuminating the shop just enough for a comforting ambience. There was a mural of a rainforest painted on the wall to the opposite of the counter with comfortable tables and lounging areas. If you could, you’d probably waste the day away lounging around. It was the perfect environment for an introvert like you.

At this shop, a large dark-haired man controlled the register instead of Claude. As you approached the register, you noticed that he wasn’t wearing a nametag, but you had a small urge to call him Bigfoot.

“Hey! What can I get ‘cha?”

You scoured the menu. “Just two pink lemonades is fine-”

“Oh! Good choice!” Constance interrupted you, coming to stand beside the man. “Yuri-bird over there makes the best sweet lemonades!”

You followed her gaze over to a man who was sitting on a stool, slouched down and leaning his head on his hand. He stretched and stood up. “Thank God, we haven’t had many customers all day. I was starting to think we lost our appeal.”

“Of course we have not!” Constance replied. She turned to you, but you couldn’t tell whether she was still talking to Yuri or you. Maybe it was neither. “Not when someone as handsome as Yuri is making the drinks and my attractive self is greeting the customers!”

“Hey! I’m just as much of a visual as the boss-man.” The taller man joined in after taking your money. “We’re all pretty nice looking. Especially this little lady ordering~”

You blushed a bit. “Oh, please, I’m nothing special-”

“Nothing special?” Constance laid her hand against her chest. “You’re wonderful! Almost on the same level as me. Isn’t that right, Yuri-birdie?”

Yuri looked up from making your drinks, his analytical eyes seemingly boring holes into you. You shuddered, feeling like he could tell your deepest and darkest secrets from just looking at you. He shrugged, going back to the lemonades.

“She’s alright, I suppose.”

“You suppose? Yuri, that’s rude-”

Hapi was midway through lecturing the purple-haired man when the door to the shop chimed open and a rather large group came in. Yuri looked up and suddenly stood alert, as did the other three workers. In the group, you saw a familiar head of orange hair and orange eyes met yours. Your face screwed up into confusion.

“Ferdinand?”

“Don’t say anything.” The leader of the group, a short, white-haired girl snarled. “Are you a new… worker here?”

“Wh- you just told me not to say anything.”

Slowly, Yuri and the other three came up beside you, standing slightly in front. Your heart nearly stopped- you were in the middle of something you definitely weren’t supposed to be in and your sass had gotten on their bad side already. The white-haired girl scrutinized the five of you, her lavender eyes piercing holes through whatever facade of confidence you had tried to put up. You could feel yourself literally wither under her gaze, even more than you did when Yuri looked at you.

“What do you want, Edelgard?” Yuri put his hands on his hip, one fiddling with something under his shirt.

“I want your loyalty.”

Yuri snorted. “You aren’t in charge.”

“I’m not? Hm. Tell that to my father after he stepped down. I’m the leader now- the emperor, if you will.” Edelgard sighed heavily. “I have no time for more conversation if you won’t comply. Hubert, deal with them.”

The terrifying man who you assumed was Hubert suddenly reached in his coat and pulled out a handgun, aiming it at the five of you. Yuri quickly retaliated and pulled one of his own, throwing it at Constance before grabbing your wrist and running to the back. A loud gunshot rang through the air as you and Yuri continued to run. You both dodged around coffee shop equipment and he dragged you through a labyrinth that they considered the back of the store.

As you were running, Yuri pulled you to a sharp right turn and your arm scraped against a metal machine in your way. You hissed in pain and looked down at it, seeing a large wound going down your shoulder to your elbow. It was starting to bleed rather quickly, but you had no time to worry about it. You’d have time to tend to it if you survived.

“What’s happening?”

“No time to explain. Quick, hide!”

Yuri pushed you against the wall in between two larger cabinets and stood in front, grabbing yet another gun from his other hip. He cocked it, listening for the ruckus of the fight in the main room to make its way towards your location. You were shaking like a leaf, grabbing tightly onto your wounded arm and smearing blood all over your fingers and your clothes. You breathed heavily, trying to calm yourself at least a little- was this why Ferdinand had been so defensive over the Eagles Freezery? What kind of restaurant rivalry would constitute attempted murder? And wasn’t this cafe uninvolved anyways? You didn't have time to ponder any more questions as a loud crash echoed through the room. Yuri lifted his gun and began to speak lowly, not taking his eyes off of the door.

“When I say run, go out the back door and get in the black car back there. Don’t go home- one of them will find you.”

A gunshot rang through the air and Constance, Balthus, and Hapi burst through the doors, running towards you all. Yuri turned to you as the three of them caught up to him, pulling out their own weapons again as Edelgard began yelling.

“Run!”

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taglist: @fairyblue-alchemist @emperor-pizza @flavoredmilktea @fe3h-random-writing-and-stuff @mifuyuyu @blviddyd @laurexlance @atomicchocolatecookie @mapesandoval @local-goth-lilz

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englandsgray · 4 years

Text

Sherlolly Self-Interviews 2020

Well hi 👋

Ignoring the internal image of Gilderoy Lockheart smiling smugly while flashbulbs pop and saying ‘In my autobiography, Magical Me...’ 🙈😆 I shall take the opportunity of this lovely event to introduce myself as a writer of Sherlolly fanfiction on AO3...

I am English and somewhere over 30. I watched the show as it aired, and lost my heart as quickly to Molly Hooper as to Sherlock Holmes. The kiss is British television history. Series 4 is my favourite. Moriarty on the beach is life. The Holmes brothers break my heart every time.

I am extremely lucky to have been provided some questions to answer here by @ohaine and @mybrainrots - huge, huge love and thanks to these two lovelies, and not just for this. I admire you both so much as writers, and your support means the world to me ❤️ Thanks too, to @sherlollyappreciationweek!

Where did you begin to write, and have you written for other fandoms? I wrote my first fanfic when I was eleven years old - a 100 page ramble about The Monkees. Oh yes. Then in 2018, I fell for the characters of the Disney Pixar film Cars and began writing and publishing. So far so random! Writing in this fandom sprang from binge-watching all four series of Sherlock during lockdown. I remembered reading Louise Brealey talking about being disappointed Molly didn’t get chance to ‘roundly kick Sherlock’s arse’ and agreeing with her wholeheartedly. That, over a few weeks, turned into my first fic - Who You Really Are.

You’re a recent (and welcome!) arrival to the Sherlolly ship, and I was wondering if writing in an established, less active than it used to be fandom has been a challenge? Thank you, firstly. My experience of this fandom has been incredibly positive - the sense of welcome has been wonderful. I will admit I was terrified posting the first fic - there are hundreds of times more stories posted daily in the Sherlock fandom as in the one I had some experience of. But I needn’t have worried, it’s been a blast. I will also admit, that it’s no small thing to be surrounded by such brilliant writing and the long-standing passion which goes with it. But I find that inspiring in itself, and I’m very glad to be here - how supportive the fandom are makes me feel like I always have been!

What’s your favourite place and way to write? My aesthetic is Lin-Manuel Miranda in his in-law’s laundry room 🤣 I wrote my first ten-thousand words on the notes app on my phone before my other half told me to stop being ridiculous! I switch between the laptop, my phone and longhand (I’m a sucker for a nice notepad and a Uni-Ball Eye) and, more often than not, not sat up properly at a table.

Since you’ve (done something I’ve never managed successfully and) written a novella length fic... how did you organise/keep track of all the details and where you wanted the story to go? Did you outline/plot in advance? First of all - I would love to see a novella length fic from you @mybrainrots! The final scene of Who You Really Are came to me very early on and I knew I wanted the fic to fit within TFP - a lot of it takes place in the timeframe of the final montage. At first, it was going to be much more about Sherlock’s relationship with the ideas of sentiment and love (the phrase ‘I’m not sentimental about you, I love you,’ haunted me for a while) and I spent some time researching the psychology and playing with scenes from throughout the series - one of my favourites I didn’t go on to use was inspired by the final scene of THoB. Using scenes from the canon gave an automatic structure, and I was always aiming for the final one I wrote early on - the two of them on the beach (everything is about the beach, with me!) As I went along and started, inevitably, to slow down, I mapped out the chapters with a short note of what I wanted to be in each, then would add notes or phrases as they came to me - often emailed from my phone! I had to force myself through a tricky section set in Baker Street at one point, but it came together in the end. I did plot The Pathologist’s Skeletons on paper first, as I found with a casefic which remains a WIP, that I can get confused and lose focus when it comes to details and how to reveal them in a way which stays paced and interesting. I’ll certainly do that from now on with longer stories and cases. How did you keep up enthusiasm for the work? I want to write an original novel, so I am forcing myself to work through the knotty bits and blocks as a learning experience. Not everything is destined to be finished or finessed, of course, but I’m finding this process is building my confidence that I can overcome problems and slow periods. I also find I know when I need some external inspiration - some of my favourite scenes have come to me while out walking the dog or sitting on the beach. I’ve also been inspired by books or other series or things going on in the world, as we all are, and sometimes that’s pushed me on. Plus, of course, I’m a newbie - I’m very much in the honeymoon period of my writing, even though I’ve loved Sherlock for ten years! (Ten years! Bonkers.)

You’ve got a knack for writing Sherlock’s thoughts and capturing his voice. That said, which character do you find easiest to write? Which is the hardest? Thank you so much. I absolutely love writing Sherlock and Mycroft, and I’m sure that’s because they suit my somewhat over-the-top writing style! I find Molly and her POV really difficult. I want the scenes I write from her perspective to sound completely different to Sherlock, but that means writing in a style which doesn’t come as naturally to me. I’m a long way off happy with that at the moment, but I’m enjoying the challenge.

Is there a scene or character that specifically inspired you to start writing Sherlolly? The whole of TFP, but especially from the moment Sherlock arrives at Musgrave onwards. I am desperate to see what a Sherlock Holmes who has been reacquainted with his own heart would look like. I find his emotionality in those final scenes hugely compelling (Mycroft’s office is one of my favourite moments from across all four series) and, as I have always believed in him and Molly, I practically jumped up back in May after watching it and said ‘right, where’s my notebook?!’.

There’s a lovely peaceful, quiet feeling to your fic ‘We’re All Right At The Moment’. Can you tell us what inspired it and if you’ve thought of doing the backstory that goes with it? Thank you! Like everyone, I would go back to January of this year and start again in a heartbeat, but I am hugely fortunate to be able to say that I have a lot to be grateful to the UK lockdowns for. I might never have begun writing in this fandom otherwise, for one, and I have had a brilliant time so far and met some lovely people. Honestly, I don’t feel able to do any sort of justice in my writing to what has happened in the world in any broader sense than drawing on my own experiences of staying at home and enjoying my family. This particular super-short fic sees Molly cutting Sherlock’s hair at home in Baker Street. I wrote it in the evening after I had cut my other half’s hair and had been reminding myself that despite how horribly worried I was - and still am - about everything, we were all right in that moment, and to focus on that as much as possible. I wanted to try to capture that, if for no reason other than to look back on this entire experience and remember something lovely, so I am so pleased to hear you felt the fic did that. It was only after I finished it and reread it, that I realised it is ambiguous as to whether Molly is worried about Sherlock contracting the virus, or whether she is remembering him being treated for it... As I say, I don’t think I could write more about these extraordinary circumstances - perhaps it’s just too close at the moment - so I don’t plan on extending it. But you know how it is, the plot bunnies hop where they will...

Do you have a Sherlolly music playlist? What are your top five favs from the list? Here’s a run down of (6 🙊) songs I have been getting emotional over in the last little while, leading my brain to assign their significance to my favourite couple...

Kissing You - Des’Ree - It’s so 90′s, it’s a bit cheesy, it’s oddly disturbing. It helped me write A Request, Made Properly, and that gave me an excuse to have Sherlock kiss Molly in the snow.

How Long Will I Love You? - Ellie Goulding - part of the playlist, but also in remembrance of a friend who passed away recently. Life is very short, love is forever.

High and Dry - Jamie Cullum - It’s made me emotional for a very long time. The original is my partner’s version of choice, this is mine.

Think About You - Delta Goodrem - Okay, this one isn’t emotional, and it’s not my usual vibe! Blame the zoom exercise class I do! But oh my goodness, it’s Molly. Bless her.

Blinded By Your Grace (P.T.2. F.T. MNEK) - Stormzy - One of the best ever, I reckon. Spent an awful lot of time thinking about angels and demons, grace and what it takes to save someone, while writing my latest - The Pathologist’s Skeletons. This has been in my head most of the (blimmin’) time!

Love Me Like You Do - Ellie Goulding - I didn’t know I was a fan of Ellie until I wrote this list... I don’t subscribe to the theory that the love Molly wants or that which Sherlock has to offer is any lesser because it isn’t ‘normal’ or expected. I don’t think romantic entanglement would come easy to either of them. But it’s still love and it would be beautiful.

Thank you so much for reading. Thanks and love to @ohaine and @mybrainrots. And thank you @sherlollyappreciationweek for the event and for everything you do ❤️

Feel like I should sign off with a quote from the show...

“You’re not a puzzle-solver, you never have been. You’re a drama queen!” Dr John Watson (Moffat & Gatiss) 2014 😜

A fav fic of mine by @mybrainrots

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563193

A fav fic of mine by @ohaine

https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562904

My stuff:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnglandsGray/works

#sherlolly #sherlollyselfinterview20 #sherlock #sherlockbbc #writing #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 author #read on ao3

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complexgods-backup · 3 years

Text

Isn’t It Cliché? Chapter 1

Ship: DaiSuga (Haikyuu!!)

Summary: “Suga almost dropped the pen he was holding as he saw what was probably the most handsome man he has ever seen enter the Starbucks. He looked extremely tired, and Suga wondered if he was hungover. He had short brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes, and Suga couldn’t help but notice his biceps straining the fabric of his shirt as he took off his coat. Quickly pushing away any impure thoughts, Suga put on his best employee smile as he took his order.”

Sugawara Koushi moves to Tokyo with a broken heart and a desire to start over and falls for a handsome stranger that frequents the coffee shop he works at. Unfortunately, it’s harder for Suga to get him to open up than he thought. It’s all pretty cliché.

Word Count: 2418

Beta-read by: @mesreves

Warnings: None

A/N: This fic has become somewhat of a passion project of mine, I hope you enjoy it! I already posted 5 chapters on ao3, so feel free to read the rest (and all the tags) on there! I will try and post the chapters as regularly as uni will let me! The fic is under the cut :)

“Fuck, I’m already late,” Sugawara groaned as he finally awoke with his third alarm. It was his first day at his new job and he really needed the money, so being late was not an option and it was already 7:32 am. He dressed in a hurry, popping some toast into the toaster as he gathered all his things. He ran outside his apartment with one shoe still untied, his coat barely over his shoulders, and the piece of toast in his mouth. I can’t get any more cliché , Sugawara thought to himself as he ran down the stairs to run to the subway. Thankfully, there was a subway stop right by his apartment building and he lived only a few stops away from the Starbucks he got hired at.

As he stepped outside, the crisp autumn air hit his face and he instantly lifted his head to smell the fresh air. Autumn was his favourite season, mainly because the world turned golden brown for a few weeks and the sunsets were phenomenal. He couldn’t wait to explore the new city he moved to and watch the sunset from all around the city. He pushed the thought aside as he swallowed the last piece of toast and walked into the station, focussed on finding the right platform. He constantly checked his phone to see which stop he needed to get out at, still unsure about his orientation skills in Tokyo. Even though he visited the city multiple times as a kid, he knew that getting lost was inevitable. He watched the sun rise higher over the city as the subway continued on its journey, cramped full of people going to their 9 to 5. When his stop came up, he pushed himself out of the cart, cursing himself that he was so far back. He hated inconveniencing people.

Despite all the hassle, he managed to be in front of the Starbucks ten minutes early, signaling to his coworker already inside that he was there. Once the manager gave him his apron, she left Sugawara’s coworker to show him the ropes. Although he had already been employed at a Starbucks before, it was protocol to explain how everything worked, so he listened diligently to his coworker, who was called Yamaguchi Tadashi.

“It’s the busiest right before 9 am and after 4 pm, so you’ll be with at least two other people then. Our other colleague will be here any minute, but you’ll only take orders and work at the cash register today. That sound good?” Suga nodded, impressed at how the other took charge. When he first met him after his interview, he seemed so shy and insecure, but he was clearly in his element. Despite Sugawara being two years Yamaguchi’s elder, he did not dare speak informally to him yet, quite frankly intimidated by his authority. As soon as Yamaguchi seemed pleased with Sugawara’s work, a gorgeous woman, no older than Sugawara, walked in, and he couldn’t help but blush a little bit as she turned to him and wished him a good morning.

“I’m Kiyoko Shimizu, I’m the shift manager and I’ll be working the orders with Tadashi today, it’s nice to meet you.” She gave a shy smile and he nodded at her.

“Nice to meet you, Kiyoko-san! I’m Sugawara Koushi, but you can call me Suga.” He flashed her a smile to emphasize how happy he was to meet her.

“Oh no need for the honorifics, we’re all the same age group and I’m not a big fan of formalities. Just call me Kiyoko!” Suga smiled and nodded as she walked to the back of the store to put down her things and get her apron.

Yamaguchi didn’t lie when he said that most people come through before 9 am, as the shop got extremely busy within minutes. Most of the time, the orders were pretty simple and Suga’s endless patience seemed to serve him well. He didn’t mind taking up orders, knowing that making all those complicated drinks were oftentimes less fun to make, especially if it was busy. But Yamaguchi and Kiyoko seemed to know each other extremely well, making their work ethic impeccable.

Suga didn’t even notice how fast the time went by, and when he next looked at the clock that adorned the wall opposite the till he saw it was already 10h30am. The shop was quieter now that most people got their morning coffee before work, and the three could have short conversations between customers.

“So what do you study?” Kiyoko asked, biting down on a cinnamon roll a customer decided they didn’t want after Yamaguchi had already warmed it up.

“I’m in my second year of Japanese Studies and Elementary Education. I transferred here this year because my old uni was not a good fit for me. What about you?” He asked his peers, who in turn said what they studied. Yamaguchi was an engineering major and Kiyoko was in her last Bachelor's year of studying History of Art. They were interrupted as a customer opened the door. Suga almost dropped the pen he was holding as he saw what was probably the most handsome man he has ever seen enter the Starbucks. He looked extremely tired, and Suga wondered if he was hungover. He had short brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes, and Suga couldn’t help but notice his biceps straining the fabric of his shirt as he took off his coat. Quickly pushing away any impure thoughts, Suga put on his best employee smile as he took his order. He tried his best to hide the blush that slowly crept over his cheeks as he heard how gruff the man’s voice sounded.

“I’ll have a caramel frappuccino with three extra pumps of caramel syrup and an extra shot of espresso.” The man said, which surprised Suga for some reason. He didn’t expect the man to have such a sweet drink but he refused to let the shock show on his face as he asked for the customer’s name to write on the cup.

“Sawamura.” He gruffed, barely looking up at the barista. Suga figured he was too hungover and/or tired so he didn’t think much of it as he wrote his name on the cup with a little smiley face next to it, handing Kiyoko the cup. When his order was done, he sat down where he put his coat and immediately plugged his headphones into his phone, and started typing on his laptop.

“He most definitely forgot an assignment he was supposed to write during break.” Yamaguchi giggled as they all secretly watched the man type furiously.

“Do you know who he is?” Suga asked, trying to sound as casual as possible. The other two just shrugged.

“No. He comes here a few times a month and orders ridiculously sweet drinks. He usually stays a few hours.” Kiyoko answered, seeming uninterested. Suga nodded and decided to drop the matter. Soon there were more people coming in and out of the café and Suga was too busy to pay him any more mind. He met one other of his coworkers as Yamaguchi’s shift ended earlier. He was small and energetic, and Suga found out that he studied sports. Makes sense, Suga thought to himself as he smiled at how much energy Hinata seemed to have.

After his shift finally ended, Suga was glad to get back to his small apartment. It wasn’t anything big or fancy, but it was enough for him. There were some unpacked boxes still in one corner of the apartment that he had neglected the entire week in favour of exploring the city. He wasn’t big on decorating except for a string of fairy lights and a big houseplant his best friend gave him when he moved away.

The one thing he was thankful for in his small apartment was his bathtub. Even though it wasn’t exactly the biggest bathtub he had ever seen, he was very fond of it. It was the perfect size for him, even though he had to bend his knees to comfortably have his shoulders underwater. He loved taking hot baths after a long day, letting the hot water ease the aches and pains of the day, getting lost in his thoughts with nothing but two candles illuminating his small bathroom. Today was no different. As he sank into the mixture of bubbles and warm water, he let his mind wander, phone on silent. He mentally planned out the next week because that was when his classes would officially be starting. He made a mental note of all the things he still needed to do before bed as he closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the bath engulf him. Subconsciously, his mind wandered back to that man from the Starbucks this morning. What was his name again? Sam… Something. No, Sawamura, that was it. He couldn’t help but remember how handsome he looked, even though he seemed to be having the hangover of his life. Suga wondered what he would look like with a good night’s rest and maybe if he wasn’t that grumpy or stressed out. Sighing, he tried to push the image of the handsome stranger out of his mind. He was done falling for people and getting into relationships for now anyways, especially with what happened with his ex… He left him with a broken heart and trust issues, and he didn’t think he’d be able to go through that kind of pain again anytime soon.

God, you’re so pathetic , Suga thought to himself. Are you really planning your future with some guy? Just because he’s handsome and mysterious and most definitely out of your league? And most probably painfully heterosexual… Get a grip on yourself.

He sighed and opened his eyes, pulling himself out of the bathtub, drying himself off, and getting ready for bed. Tomorrow was going to be a hell of a day, mainly because he had no idea what to expect from his new University, especially how the people were going to be.

He fell asleep the instant his head touched the pillow, content he could finally fall into a dreamless slumber.

…

Suga woke up with a start, confused as to why his alarm rang even though it was still dark out. When he looked at his phone, he realised that it was not his alarm but, in fact, his best friend trying to FaceTime him. Sighing, he accepted the call.

“Asahi, what do you want? It’s almost one a.m.” Suga groaned, rubbing his face.

“Oh no did I wake you? Sorry! But also I’m not sorry because you promised we’d call today! Didn’t think you’d forget..” Asahi said on the other side of the phone and Suga mentally slapped himself.

“Right, sorry… I forgot… Today was a lot and I just got settled at work and… Ugh… I’m sorry. But I’m here now! How was your day?” Suga asked, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“No worries! Just wanted to check in to see if you were still alive. My day was alright, I’m getting ready for tomorrow and I’m kinda nervous.” Suga could tell that Asahi was more than “a bit nervous” so he sat up in bed, facing the camera in earnest.

“You’ll do great! Uni is hard but it’s important to remember that every single first-year goes through the same! I promise it’ll be alright!” Asahi only frowned in response to his encouragement, clearly skeptical.

“But you have it so easy, Suga. It’s so difficult for me to talk to new people.” Asahi all but pouted. Suga sighed.

“Yeah I know, but I promise you a lot of people are the same, and you being like that hasn’t stopped us from being friends, right?” Suga prompted, smiling at the camera.

“Yes, but we were neighbours. Also, we’ve been friends since we were 5. You’re kinda stuck with me.” Asahi smiled and Suga just shook his head.

“You’re so stubborn. You’ll be fine! You can always text me if you get anxious but please try and at least talk to one person. Can you do that for me?” Suga asked and he could see Asahi calm down the more they talked.

“Yes, I’ll try. Alright, tell me about your day!” Asahi said excitedly, leaning his face closer to the camera.

“Oh, it was nice actually! I mean it was exhausting but my colleagues are super nice! One of them would get along really well with Noya actually, he has so much energy and is so positive, they’d be the best of friends in no time.” Asahi’s face smiled sadly at the mention of his boyfriend. They’ve been long-distance for four months and Suga knew how much his best friend missed him.

“But yeah the other people are really kind as well. Remember that shy boy that was working when I had my interview? Turns out he is actually a badass behind the counter and he could shit-talk for days.” Suga laughed at that, knowing that Asahi disapproves of anything that has to do with making fun of others.

“I’m glad that your coworkers are nice!! I miss hanging out with you” Asahi said, his face pulled into a frown yet again.

“I do too. But hey I’ll be coming back for a weekend soon and we’ll be able to hang out together!” Suga prompted, trying to stifle a yawn.

“Yes, that’s true. Alright, you look tired, you should sleep” Asahi said, and Suga agreed. His head felt heavy and his eyes were closing despite his will to keep them open.

“We’ll call tomorrow after your first day’s over! I think I’ll be free after 4 pm so just call me when you have time” Suga sleepily smiled at the camera as they said their goodbyes and he immediately fell back asleep.

He awoke the next morning with his first alarm, something that didn’t happen often. He decided to enjoy the morning then, having more than an hour to get to the subway: he had a strong cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone. After sending Asahi a few memes as was his morning ritual, he ran down the stairs to get to his uni. He had visited it a few times before moving, so he was more confident in finding his way from the subway to the doors of the main building.

#daisuga #daisuga fanfic #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu #sawamura daichi #sugawara koushi #my writing #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #my fic #reblogs and comments are appreciated!

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coldcolourchords · 3 years

Text

Turning 21 - an unwanted landmark

It happened an hour and 20 minutes ago, as the clock hit midnight CEST and the date changed so seamlessly to the 12th, without any hesitation, uneventfully and in complete silence, just as expected. The day I've been negatively anticipating for the better half of the past one year has come, and it caught me sitting at my computer alone in the living room, drinking hot tea on a summer night in a sweater and doing my silly little tasks that I call "work" (because despite my best efforts, middle of the night is still the only time of the day I can function as intended).

I remember ever since I was a child I always used to start mentally preparing myself for my birthday from New Year's Day. Even my mother used to say, "now that it's 2010, you're already 10 to me", even though August was still nowhere to be seen. But that felt good at the time. The beginning of a new year and my birthday approaching meant hope and progress, as the only thing I wanted as a child and as a teen was to grow up and not have to be a child anymore. I didn't like going to school, I didn't like being told to do things, I didn't like not being taken seriously, as I'm sure no one does. But by "didn't like", I mean it caused me severe emotional distress, the stuff that happened to me every single day without my control. It's hard to tell now in retrospect what caused what, but I have memories of developing my two most prominent and persistent mental disorders at around 6 years old (social anxiety and a BFRB) which have isolated me and often subjected me to cooler kids poking fun at me, shortly followed by starting school in the middle of my parent's divorce and moving houses. One of our last dinners in my father's comforting family home at the dinner table, I remember being visibly sad and my mum asking me what was wrong. My slightly belated answer ("everything") did not quite get the desired reception, as she and my little brother went on to have a little giggle over making assumptions about what that must include ("I'm sure she's sad over dinosaurs going extinct too..."). And, from then on, it's pretty much been downhill. I didn't like being home and I didn't like being at school (or at any of the million extracurricular activities my mum had picked out for me falsely thinking they could stop me from hurting myself and not just accelerate it). The ever-present social anxiety, bottled up frustration, high academic expectations and confusion about the nature of my very own self-destructive behaviours did not make for an enjoyable time in any of my 12 years at school. So, obviously, all I could do was anticipate the end. The end of being vulnerable to the very systems that were meant to nurture me and protect me.

I think that was my way of thinking all the way until I turned 19. Two years ago. At 19, I had graduated high school, I was about to start university studying something I was interested in, I had a semi-stable student job I liked and I was ready to move in with my boyfriend (a former classmate), separate from our parents. I had an artistic goal that I was ready to work for in my free time, and living away from home I was finally going to get the capacity to do so as well. And then when all of this happened and my thoughts became occupied with the new kind of responsibilities that came with "adulting", I started getting this overwhelming feeling of "what now?". A couple months have passed in the blink of an eye, it was November and I wasn't happy. I was making virtually no progress on my creative goals, my flat was a smelly mess, I didn't see my friends and I wasn't making new ones, and I found university to be draining and incompatible with my brain. I wasn't enjoying anything. I thought, "is this how I'm going to have to spend another 3 years?".

And then a miracle happened. I had to give a presentation at uni with a couple of other girls, and one of them suggested a book to do it based on. Reading my part of the book to prepare for the presentation has unlocked something in me - it was a book about the way people manage to feel like hostages due to their own decisions and thoughts. First it hurt to read because I had to face the truth: I wasn't really a hostage of expectations, university or responsibilities, I was a hostage of myself and my own attitude. I even wrote a song about this (my ultimate way of being honest with myself), and that's when I've felt ready to start working on myself in order to take back control over my life. And hell, I have done it. In a couple of weeks, I was feeling the best I've ever felt and I went into exam season thinking I was capable of the impossible at this point. Who knew I had it in me? I had gotten through a couple of exams and assignments and I was thinking soon I was going to start improving in other areas of my life as well. I was going to make art, see my friends again, go out, have fun, maybe learn to cook and be a better girlfriend too. Not a lot of that has happened. Came the end of exams and the second half of January and I was already exhausted. My job was at a halt and uni wasn't back on until mid February, so I spent a few shallow weeks at home just thinking "why am I doing this again?". It was difficult, suddenly having too much space for negative thoughts and rumination.

But it was only the start of the pandemic when my race with time has really begun. Which is ironic, because when the restrictions were first announced in my country, I really saw a lot of opportunity in them to grow for myself (and I mean this is in the least "this deadly virus is a blessing in disguise" way possible). University moving online and social gatherings being nothing short of illegal all of a sudden felt more than convenient for my social (but very luckily not health) anxiety ridden brain, and I had imagined this was going to be the most prosperous phase in my life, in terms of moving forward with my goals.

Ever since I was little, I had dreamed of becoming a musical artist. No one ever encouraged me - maybe for a good reason - and I tried to keep quiet about it as well. I was so ashamed of desiring something that was so "unlike me" according to everyone who knew me. I never had a good voice and everyone perceived me as shy, on top of being seen as more of a "STEM girl" (until I went to high school for maths and ended up not understanding any of it anymore). I'd been writing lyrics into my phone since 14 and attempting to turn them into actual songs on my laptop since 17. At 18, I even took a beginner's course in Ableton. Still, I just never felt like anything I wrote was of any worth or that I had a single ounce of talent in any part of the process. But I kept on dreaming and pushing because I thought "if I don't try, how will I know?". My work ethic was awful too, I was an inconsistent writer and an even more inconsistent producer. I never got anything finished because I got lost in the details and gave up due to my perfectionism. Plus, and this is what I perceived to be the biggest problem at the time, I could only record music at home, and my family were home all the time. Moving out, I thought I was going to prosper, then I didn't prosper for a bit, told myself it was okay because uni was making me depressed, then I continued to not prosper, told myself it was okay because I had to rest up after exams. And then it's like the universe said "Stop. You're just making excuses. Stay home and produce those songs now because there will NOT be another opportunity like this".

I put so much pressure on myself then to get stuff done. It felt like my time - all my adolescence I was looking at teenage popstars rising to fame and each year they were just getting younger and all I did was compare myself to them and worry. Worry that I was running late, that no one was going to ever care about me because I am late, but growing up I excused it every time. I was home with my family and stressed because of school all the time, duh, how could I have made good art? But right there, at the beginning of "quarantining", it was just me and my willpower. No school, no job, no impromptu social plans. And who knew how long it was going to last? Some people said only four weeks, some others said months, some the rest of the year. All I knew was I was 19, still young and practically a teenager, and I had to act. And I did. I made two of the worst songs you've heard in your life and I put them both out in the summer under my own name. Like proper released them on streaming services and all. Looking back now, holy hell, how desperate was I, posting it on my social media that people I actually knew followed? With my fear of being ridiculed? I was setting myself up for an emotional disaster. Shock horror: my songs didn't blow up (although I have had a few friends say lovely things about them, at least to me). By the time of scheduling the second one for release (mid July) I was already feeling burnt out. Yes, there was another exam season in the meantime, and the unexpectedness of the elongated pandemic has definitely been a factor as well, but generally I was just so let down by the overall underwhelming experience. I made such bad decisions - why my own full name? Why did I have to let people know and thereby handicap myself? Of course I wasn't going to promote my songs now or even speak of them positively because I feared coming off ridiculous. So I just let the whole thing pass without a sound and made myself sad. By last August, I was back to "what now?".

Needless to say, there were no festivals last summer. Festivals used to be my ultimate summer happy place and I always celebrated my birthday at a specific one (the biggest one in my city to be exact) starting with the 15th. Concerts and festivals were somehow simultaneously an adventurous escape from all my worries and the root of a lot of my confidence issues and anxiety. I dreamed of being on stage and presenting my art to the world, pouring my heart out to even just one person who will listen, the same way that I listen to my favourite artists and what they have to say. Some nights were emotional, some nights were energising, some nights were spent worrying about the people who surrounded me and some nights were just pure jealousy and feeling far away from my goals - you never knew what you were going to get at a gig. I think that overall most gigs were bittersweet experiences for me, but that's how I liked them to be. The whole point was just to feel something. But there were no festivals last year. There were concerts, though, put on by local bands, but lord do I wish there hadn't been any. I went to two of those last summer - one I went to alone and walked away feeling like shit, another I went to with my friends and felt extremely guilty and anxious about the virus after. This second one happened to be two days before my 20th birthday. I spent my birthday worried to death that I got the virus (even though numbers were extremely low at the time in my country and going to small gigs was perfectly legal and deemed not dangerous) and that I was going to infect my elderly relatives who I was going to meet with later. That didn't happen, but I haven't been to a single show since then, and it's been a year. So that's how my first non-festival birthday worked out.

Turning 20 didn't feel good and my birthday aligned with the onset of a bunch of new problems as well as old ones accelerated. I began to think deeply about everything. What was the point of anything I was doing? Was any of it going to get me anywhere? Was any of it causing me joy, even? I didn't know what to do about my musical efforts - should I keep trying to put out songs or admit defeat? I still had that creative drive in me and I worried so much about my role in the world - "I'm not a good friend, not a good girlfriend and not a good daughter, and I certainly will never become a good psychologist directly helping people with their problems. I need to give something to the world - I need to find a purpose". I didn't do stuff because I was anxious, and then I was anxious because I didn't do stuff. But I think at that point I also realised I didn't only want to succeed and produce. I also wanted to live. Having fun was missing from my life too. I rarely saw or talked to friends and my relationship wasn't going well either. Every day I tortured myself looking at other people live their lives on social media and thinking to myself I wanted what they had. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to create, to connect and to matter, but all of these things have only ever caused me anxiety in my life and I didn't know where to go from there.

With the virus getting worse again and the start of another online semester, there was one silver lining to locking myself in again though. During the pandemic, I have been playing a lot of video games, possibly even more than before. They weren't only a nice way to numb my brain and relax - no, the opposite, they were actively giving me a temporary sense of direction and progress with each gaming session. I have always loved The Sims for this reason, I had spent so many years building and perfecting my little worlds to my liking and practicing full control over my characters' lives, but this time I began to feel like it was something bigger. I discovered the Sims side of the internet, something I had not really done before, and the amount of content, help, info and Sims-related entertainment has blown me away. Whole new levels of playing have been unlocked for me and I began to dive deeper than ever. I wanted to be part of the community, so in the autumn I started streaming the game on Twitch and this time I knew better than to tell anyone I already knew about it. That didn't quite turn out as I expected, and my streamer phase was cut short in January by someone I knew from high school accidentally finding my stream. Before that, I would only get moderately anxious before streams, not worried much about what viewers were going to think of me (if they find me annoying they'll just leave and I'll never have to hear from them again), but then that unexpected turn of events ruined everything in my head. All my confidence I had built up was suddenly gone. I never streamed again after that. It wasn't really for me anyway, I told myself.

Instead, insistent on further pursuing the only thing that was giving me joy at the time, I started my YouTube channel initially uploading Sims tutorials, because I thought I had useful stuff to show people that has a greater chance of making someone happy than just watching me try to put together a sentence for 5 minutes straight while my Sims struggle to get in the shower by themselves. And much to my surprise, it was gaining decent traction, although I put a lot of it down to luck even today. But either way, it's been growing more or less consistently ever since, and beginning of the summer I stopped to think "could I not just be doing this for a living now?". "Could this be my new creative ambition?". As much as I would have liked to say yes based on my progress and how I managed to earn the same amount I would have earned in a month at my part-time retail job (we're talking Eastern European sums kids!), it wasn't that simple. Thoughts around this have of course been puzzling me for months now. I like to think of myself as a natural talker, just because I am anxious I am NOT quiet or shy. I can even make small talk very well, it's just that because I'm mortified by the possibility of an awkward silence I tend to avoid situations where it might be required. And I talk to myself all the time. So on paper, talking to a camera should not be an issue. And yet every time I record a video I feel my soul being sucked out of my body because I need to make sure I say every sentence correctly and that ends up in draining 4 hour recording sessions. Editing videos, on the other hand, is a rewarding process, a kind of flow-experience I have not really known before, though extremely long and usually detrimental to my sleep schedule (which is far from being rosy by default). Maybe I just put too much effort into everything, but it really makes you question - is it worth it? Can I really be doing this on the long run without destroying myself? And will I ever get used to the social interactions that come with it?

It's weird, suddenly getting recognition for something, people giving me positive feedback on the daily. This certainly happened more suddenly than I thought it would and I don't think I was prepared. Naturally, people taking the effort to leave me nice comments and messages makes me want to reply, appreciate their kindness and return the favour but the trinity of little demons inside me - social anxiety, impostor syndrome and a chronically low self-esteem - makes this a difficult task to complete. To combat the overwhelming weight of responsibility that comes with making sure I appreciate everyone who appreciates me enough, as well as to shut out the fear that what I have now can be taken away from me any second, I have built up a mental wall between me and my relative success. This wasn't a conscious choice, it's just the way my brain has started dealing with this new situation. I do not allow myself to internalise the rewards of what I work so hard for and that contributes to why, when I look back on 2021 so far, all I see is depression despite having "gotten what I wanted". My YouTube channel has been the only thing bringing hope and the only thing I've got going for me and yet I am incapable of embracing it.

The past one year has been enlightening. It has enlightened me that there must be something deeply wrong with me because I have not been able to enjoy life even at times I had all the reasons to. The times I am capable of letting go and feeling happy for short periods come exactly based on that - short periods. I'm drifting into states of bliss only when I know the situation is temporary and doesn't come with commitment and responsibility. Some of these moments of calmness come to me while walking to the store by myself after dark, getting invested in my video games, meeting up with my friends for an evening every once in a while and writing a therapeutic song just for myself using the simplest chords on the piano. The feeling usually doesn't last and disappears at the first attempt to get back to any kind of organised schedule (that attempt on most days is the simple act of trying to force myself to go to bed). Isn't that ironic? I wanted purpose. I wanted to get it together. And yet... every day is a struggle. I know now, I am the problem. Whether it's a chemical imbalance or another anomaly in my brain or my own fault somehow, it's not my circumstances, it's me. I wanted to be free and to make my life my own, and now I just can't. Every day I worry about running out of time, rapidly approaching death and not being able to say that I have lived. This is why turning 21 fills me with so much panic. I am no longer a child and I'll never be again, although I wouldn't even like to be. I just can't help thinking that I wasted so many opportunities to enjoy myself and to push for my goals. But it's gone now and there's no point regretting how I used to think about life back then. If I look back on my life so far I see a lot of stuff that happened that made half of my brain temporarily happy, but the other half was always filled with anxiety, anticipation to get out or dissatisfaction. It was just never fully right and I keep hoping that there will come a time when it will feel fully right. Before turning 19, I thought independence was going to give me that. Now at 21, I'm not quite sure there's anything that's going to give me that if I don't also start to work through every single one of my issues (although part of me still likes to cling onto the idea that once I'm done with my first and last degree, a lot of underlying stress and guilt will be taken off my shoulders and I'll see everything in a different light). So for a start, I just finally signed up for psychological counselling. I don't know if it will help but it's something and I've done it for myself. I need to do more for myself.

There is so much more I could talk about. Like the pandemic, how I've turned into a hermit, my relationship, struggling to be honest with myself and slowly losing touch with my all time number one passion because of it. I could talk about how I know that society has been deliberately making us (especially women) feel scared of aging and yet I still file it under personal issues, how I've been trying to fix my sleep schedule for a year and a half straight now, the guilt I feel from my family and friends all the time, my inability to concentrate and how I fall into despair concerning the future and present of humanity every time I read the news and people's opinions on social media. I could talk about how I want to cry every time I see a picture of somewhere beautiful in the world - a street in Japan, a lake in the Alps or the trees in the Mediterranean - because I feel a longing that is almost nostalgic for places I've never even visited. There is always so much to still be told to complete the story, but why do I want people I'll never fully know to understand me that well? I need to let go of compulsions like these.

Deep down I just hope that I'm not the only one terrified of growing old.

#21 #happy birthday to me #long story long #welcome to my brain #aging #depression #anxiety #growing up #growing old #young adulthood

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ryttu3k · 4 years

Text

Night Road quote text dump, because I've been deluging a friend with quotes and want a place to keep them all.

We're a bit like that, yeah:

They direct you to a hulking Malkavian named Severian, and the sullen giant directs you in turn to Gibberish Mike.

Fortunately, it turns out that "Gibberish" Mike is just Australian.

Practical concerns:

"That's it!" Elena says, leaning over your shoulder. "That's his yacht. Oh, and this is all about him. Very useful." She snaps a picture of the email with her phone, then the two of you get out of there before the technician returns. You head down the elevator and then back to Elena's Datsun.

You're so pleased by how well that went that that it takes you a few minutes to remember you're in Arizona.

"His yacht?" you finally ask.

Fun with bungalow ownership:

After a day of fitful dreams, you throw on your leather jacket and engineer boots and get ready for another night. You step outside to check your Integra. A neighbor parks next door in her Ford Super Duty and gives you a friendly little wave. You've been practicing this. You're ready.

"Howdy, neighbor."

"Howdy!" she responds before heading inside.

Fucking nailed it. You're one of them.

This is legitimately how I got the Messy Critical achievement:

You grab a hoe.

You rip through the underbrush with savage efficiency, staying a few steps ahead of the pushcart as Julian scans. You work in a trance, chopping and hammering. Only when you hear Julian shouting do you realize that you're holding a busted length of wood.

The head of your hoe is buried in the beautiful round black door of Prince Lettow's Rolls-Royce.

Raúlblocked:

You head to Raúl's place, but he's not there. You find a note hidden above the door that reads, "Problems in Phoenix. (Jesus Christ has returned? Stole a car?) Contact me right away for major jobs and I'll come back. Already missing you." And there's a ProtonMail address with some of the security contact codes you agreed upon earlier.

But it looks like Raúl will be occupied dealing with the Lord and His automotive crimes, and he won't be able to wander around Tucson with you.

Pattermuster doesn't get paid enough:

"Hello? What? Well, the blood can't be 'everywhere.' Surely that's an exagger—okay—okay, fine. Okay. Okay, I'll get—okay. Five minutes. What? No, Sissy Spacek. No, Sissy—you're thinking of Rosemary's Baby. No, Carrie had the prom scene. With all the pig's—yes, it was Sissy Spacek, I'm sure. That much blood? Jesus. Okay, hold—five—okay, five minutes."

Valid question:

Do they teach ax fighting at Quantico?

Julian Meyer:

"Man, it's been a while," Julian says, leaning against your door frame. "I remember the nights we spent keeping that elder asleep with offerings of blood, the days curled up together in the desert. Wasn't it romantic?"

"That never happened, Julian. You made up our relationship and tried to sell it as a novel until the old Prince of Tucson threatened to execute you." '

"Vampire romance was big at the time," Julian says with a shrug. "And I changed our names. I still don't know why no one wanted to buy it."

Dammit I thought I was done with uni:

"Awful," Dr. Caul says with a little shudder. "But now your real studies can begin."

Your real studies consist of a syllabus (thirty pages) and a trunk full of books (35,000 pages).

"Are you disappointed, Rook?" she says with a little laugh. "Were you expecting something more mystical? A bolt of cosmic enlightenment? A conversation with your Holy Guardian Angel, who would reveal the answers you seek?" She bangs the trunk as technicians get ready to load it into your car. "Get reading."

An enthusiastic boss:

You reunite with Pattermuster down in the morgue, where he's pumping his fists as a thin-blood on a gaming laptop watches with a worried expression because she can't tell if he's incredibly happy or insanely mad.

"Rook!" Pattermuster shouts, his eyes full of Blood, "you did it! You brilliant child, you did it! We're safe. Oh, thank God, we're safe." He pulls you into an embrace, then punches a brick wall because he's so happy, showering all three of you in dust.

I thought that was Finland?:

You catch all sorts of whispered gossip as you cross the rooftop garden.

"Camp Scheffler?"

"Gone. That Outlander courier had something to do with it."

"I heard the Russians helped the SI burn it down."

"That's ridiculous. There's no such thing as Russians."

Pot, kettle:

"Julian," the Eagle Prince says, "you will locate Reremouse with the equipment Vane brought. Once we find him, we will strike shortly before dawn. I have prepared a stake sufficient to pierce even his old hide."

"That easy, huh?" Julian says.

"No, but—"

"Your plan is ridiculous, convoluted, and dangerous," Julian says.

"And you have a better one?"

"Absolutely," Julian says. "We use Stonehenge to teleport him to Mesopotamia."

The must-have appliance:

He's a black outline in the glow of a single yellow bulb... and then the bats descend.

And then the bats get torn to pieces, because Pattermuster pulls his two katanas out of nothing and turns into an undead Cuisinart for a few seconds.

But aesthetic:

Leave it to a vampire to bring a sword to a gunfight.

It is pretty cool though:

"Oh my God," Julian says. "You're going to use the car engine to fling Prometheus into Reremouse's heart."

"Dammit, Julian, I am not doing this because it's fun. I am scrambling for every advantage I can because we only have one chance to stop Reremouse, and if we fail, the Second Inquisition will descend on us like wolves on a wounded deer."

"It's still cool," Julian mutters.

A e s t h e t i c:

The Camarilla looks unkindly on vampires who dress like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, but what's the point of being dead if you can't look the part?

#JustToreadorThings:

You sleep badly and awaken to an aching and acute Hunger that crowds out other thoughts. But when you approach the Rolls-Royce, you find Lettow and Julian seated on a blanket, evidently in fine spirits. They're holding stainless steel mugs as they watch the last purple streaks fade from the western sky. There's something perfect about the composition before you: the two Kindred in their working clothes with their backs to you, the blue-black clouds, the faraway mesas framing the scene.

"I fear we've lost the Aesthete," Lettow muses. "Luka? Luka!"

It's just good sense:

A lot of keypads use 0911 as an emergency override for police and fire. That doesn't work, but a common default password causes the elevator doors to slide right open.

Change your defaults, people.

They draw the line at 31%:

Not all problems can be solved by putting a brick through a window, but at least 30 percent can.

Descriptive:

That's when your Nissan makes a sound like a bunch of typewriter keys dropped in a blender, and the whole truck lurches to a halt.

Munch munch:

"There are tags attached to all the payroll numbers," you say. "FNMA. PFC. What are they?"

"FNMA?" Antonio says. "That's Fannie Mae. The loan commission. Privatized in 1968. PFC…"

"Pavlodar Fried Chicken," Janet says. "Damn Commies."

Courier what did you do:

When you try to start your Mercedes, it vomits black smoke. That's not good. You kill the engine.

"Pop the hood," Julian says. "I'll get it up and running."

He checks the motor. There's a long pause.

"Did you melt a bunch of cheese in here or something, Vane?"

“I remember crawling out of a Nieuport 20 outside Gibraltar," Prince Lettow says. "The engine looked like that. Of course, ours had been on fire."

"Engine looks like Vane fed a bunch of sardine cans into a paper shredder," Julian says.

Almost!:

So Lettow is cute. I'm going to talk to him and see if he might be interested in a handsome young courier who almost has his own car.

Scientist life:

A beaker of cold coffee on her desk has a pencil in it; she flicks the pencil away and drains the entire beaker, then looks you in the eyes.

Domesticity:

"Wow, Vane," the Banu Haqim says, "did you finally settle down. Where's the wife and kids? Why don't you get me a beer, and we can talk about football and quote some Bible verses at each other?"

I really want to know where the fake werewolf came in:

"...so the whole fucking Cadillac is on fire, and I'm kicking and kicking, trying to get the window to break!" Dove says.

"Right, right, because —" You're trying to follow this story, and it isn't easy.

"Because I'm still handcuffed to the guy who was pretending to be a werewolf, right. And I finally kick through the window, rip half the dead fake werewolf's arm off to get free — I'm out of my fucking mind now, with all the fire — and I finally crawl out of the car."

"And get clear before it — do they blow up?"

"Escalades? I dunno, probably not," Dove says. "But anyway, I'm finally clear, so I run across the parking lot, laughing because I'm just thrilled not to have met final death chained up to that guy. And I barely have time to look up before Lettow comes screaming around the corner in a Ford Bronco with the lights off and runs me over. I was in the wrong Cadillac the whole time."

"No!"

"Two black Cadillac Escalades in the parking lot of the Marriott," Dove says. "How was I supposed to know which one — anyway, that's why I don't get to drive anymore. That's why Lettow wants assholes like you driving."

"Driving what?" you ask. "Because I need a car."

Dove shakes her ugly head. "I'll get you something. Give me a few hours to work on it, and I'll send someone to find you."

Cars are everything:

You still don't know how Julian plans to go from "divert a few funds and data streams from the Camarilla" to "transform the global information panopticon in a way that ends the Masquerade but keeps vampires safe," but he has a nicer car than last time, so he must be doing something right.

Guys please be nice to Raul:

"There appears to be a vampire hunter outside," he says, "investigating your electric vehicle."

"Send your bird to peck his eyes out," Julian says. "I'm not going outside until I find my sneakers."

Cheese?:

Over the next few minutes, you cough up a glorious wad of bullshit involving MKUltra, the Philadelphia Experiment, Star Wars (the movie), Star Wars (the Reagan-era government program), Jackson Pollack's CIA connections, the history of federal cheese, and the secret mastermind behind the seventies gas crunch.

In fairness it's a pretty rare sound:

You're way up in Limberlost, near the mall and the Walmart, when Riga settles on the roof of a Safeway. You reverse into the parking lot in case you need to get out fast and scan the cars at the pumps. It looks quiet. Then you hear a faint ringing.

The sound is musical, hypnotic. It reminds you of your childhood, and for a long time you just sit there in the driver's seat, remembering what it was like to be alive. But what is that sound? What memory from…?

Oh, right.

The pay phone next to the ice merchandiser is ringing.

It's a skill!:

Not every member of Clan Toreador joins their august ranks because of their great beauty or artistic genius. Some people end up vampires because of their extensive knowledge of Adobe After Effects.

Big Pirates of the Caribbean energy:

"I'd kind of like to give Lettow here a horse and a sword and let him tear through an entire police barracks," Julian says. "Tell me that wouldn't be fun."

"One thing I learned from Napoleon," Lettow says, "is that the most powerful cannon is useless if you cannot see your target. We know the location of one small encampment. That isn't enough to start shooting."

"You knew Napoleon?" Julian asks.

"Napoleon was my horse," Lettow says.

#vampire the masquerade #vtm night road #vtmnr #vtmnr spoilers

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hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall · 4 years

Text

The PA - part 3/3

Pairing: Tony Stark x named!Reader

Summary: You have had neough of Tony Stark and his arrogant, selfish ass. So you leave... At least for a while.

Warnings: Swearing (a lot), angst, fluff.

A/N: Ok, this a hostirical date for me, as this is my FIRST EVER story I finished. I know it was a short one, but I am still proud. There is a lot going on in this chapter and I thought of ending it differently but here you go. I hope you all liked it <3

Comments and opinions are always welcomed :*

Words: 6000+ (ooops)

nothing really changed. You were hidden in your office doing everything your boss needed without the need to ask. You sent him everything via email and cared for his health fr the shadow. A cooked dinner and bottles of water were always waiting for him. Adding a hot chocolate for the night. Nothing changed. And yet everything did.

Those hot chocolates you used to make were now drunk alone. There was no billionaire to join you in it with his sarcastic and fun comments. There were no back massage that you enjoyed giving almost as much as he receiving. And what's more, there were no parties for you. You couldn't bear to see him dancing, kissing and flirting with went. You knew you were pathetic. You loved the man who would never see you as more than just a worker and a "kid".

Who were you kidding. You had nothing on the women he was 'seeing'. All those pretty little things with perfect bodies and probably experienced enough to keep him entertained for a whole night.

You swallowed and shook your head to get that image out of it. You were tired. There wasn't more work per se but it exhausted you mentally to always try to omit him. You missed him his face, the smile and cheeky comments. But you couldn't do it to your heart. A heart that has already been broken so many times by the same man.

You looked up when a ping when an email showed up. To your personal email. Your heart skipped a beat and eyes widened their twice size, when you noticed the sender.

"What the fuck?" You whispered and turned around hearing a gasp. You met with a smiling Romanoff, leaving on the edge of the doors.

"This is the first time I heard you swear" She said teasingly. "What got you so worked up?"

You moved away from the laptop for her to see. She read through the email carefully and she looked at you with the biggest softness and pride anyone has ever showed you.

"This is amazing. A damn MIT wants you to work with them. This is huge, honey!" You bit your lip and looked away. "But for some unknown reasons you don't look happy."

"It's just an interview, it doesn't mean I will get the job, and… " You looked away, a shame of even thinking about it in the moment like that.

"And you would have to leave Tony… " You closed your eyes, hating how she was able to just understand you without words. A damn Russian spy stuff. "He's an adult… you'll just find him a new assistant. Or a babysitter, I'm never sure what your official position actually is." You giggled at her playfulness and rolled your eyes at her.

"I have been working for him for so long… I can't just leave him alone." You looked away when she frowned and sighed. Of the 'Disappointed Natasha Romanoff' comes to action.

"What about you? When will you finally take care of yourself?" Her stern tone made you flinch and start to nervously play with the hem of your Iron Maiden shirt. "You had dreams, and I sure know you have hobbies. You're still young, but act like a 60 years old woman, for God's sake." You clenched your fingers and shut your eyes, to stop the tears from falling. She was angry and that was the first time you noticed this. What was worse she was disappointed at you, and that hurt you more than anything.

Natasha Romanoff was like an older sister for you. You learned to love her and you felt her love towards you, despite the fact that she showed it differently to other people. She was there for you and knew about your hidden feelings to Stark. She always supported you and told you how everything will be fine. She understood your shyness and tried to work through your low self esteem. She was always patient with you. Until now. You guessed, everyone had their limit, and ger has just ended.

"You stay here, hidden in this cave. Running away from your feelings. You are afraid to do anything. You got so used to being his assistant that you are afraid of being alone. And your pinning to Tony? I hoped you'd understand that int hat party. He isn't a relationship type of guy and you're not a one night stand type of girl. Your love for him? Stop going for something you can't have!" You lowered your head to hide the tears that started to fall. You clenched your fingers on your thigh so hard that you could feel how your nails climbed into your clothes. But it didn't bother you. The physical was not even close to your mental one. It was one thing to make yourself believe that this love you had would never happen, but when someone else said it to you. It made it real. "Stop living in a dream world and wake up, before it's too late! " She hissed and stormed out of your lablab. And this was when everything you hidden so deep inside you, went out to the light. You asked Jarvis to lock the doors to your lab and you screamed and cried until you had no more tears.

"Weren't you a bit too harsh?" She looked at Bucky who was leaning on the wall, near the elevator.

"She needed that." Barnes scoffed and followed the redhead. "She's was about to turn down her dream job for him." Bucky frowned and sighed. "She loves him and all he does is hurt her. It isn't his fault really. He doesn't know, doesn't understand. Stark isn't the type of person that would be able to see true love. This is why she needs to let go. Live her own life. And if getting her dream job and leaving him would make it happen than she needs to. " Barnes smiled sadly. Nat really cared about you. Hse loved you like you were her little sister and he found it charming. But he did feel bad for you. You fell in love with a wrong guy. A very decent human, but a dumb man.

You looked at you clothes and sighed. It wasn't you. You didn't dress like that. A pencil skirt and a white shirt. You felt uncomfortable and stupid. You flinched when you put the heels on and sighed. Well it was a job interview. You needed to look presentable. You took your bag with everything you needed in it and took a deep breath. Yes, it was just an interview. Not like you'd get that job. There were hundreds applicants will were probably better than you. But after Nat you decided to give it a try. You didn't speak to her, and if you were being honest, you didn't speak to anyone. No one new about your bid day, not even Tony. He didn't need to know. It was only an interview. The first step of it. Not like you were leaving him just yet.

And so you walked to the elevators and dl being deep down in your thoughts you didn't notice Tony waiting for the elevator, just as you walked out.

"To… Mr. Stark… " You whispered, when you almost walked into him. He looked you over and frowned.

"A hot date?" He asked. You knew he tried to joke but there was something in his tone that made you wonder it he was really kidding.

"I…" You clenched your bag and bit your bottom lip nervously. "I will be back soon." He raised his brow and nodded, not saying anything else walked into the elevator, leaving you standing there. This did not help your anxiety at all. You tried to relax and went to your already waiting Uber.

"She has a what now?" Tony shouted looking at Natasha with anger in his eyes. "She never told me! "

"It was hard to tell you when you both omitted Yourselves… " She answered with a roll to her eyes. "MIT if I remember right." His eyes widelec, remembering how much you always wanted to work there. A job interview. You went to a job interview without telling him.

"Well good for her." He shrugged, turning around to miss the way the woman rolled her eyes. "What should I do? Isn't it like breaking some kind of contract? Going to a job interview still working for me?"

"Don't be petty, Tony." She warned him and he scoffed.

"I thought she would at least tell me. You know for references… "

"She wasn't sure she'd get the job. Not to mention the fact I needed to force her to go." He frowned and she rolled her eyes. Men were really stupid. "Talk to her, Tony. But like a proper human being. An adult." She patted him on the shoulder and left the room, leaving him alone.

You sighed and sat at your desk, feeling more than tired. The whole interview was exhausted, and you weren’t sure if most of those questions were even appropriate. ‘How close are you with Mr Stark?’ ‘Do you believe Mr Stark would be up to donating money for our cause?’ And more inappropriate and too personal questions for your liking. You were happy when the rector finally showed up. It was when you shined the most. Talking about your PhD project, the possible prospects of it and your father ideas. Even Though he asked you about Stark, those questions were thoughtful.

“He has his reputation”, he chuckled softly and you nodded unable to disagree. “Not many people would leave a safe, warm, probably well-paid job, to come work with us.” He took off his glasses and looked at you. “Is there something I should know? The reason for your application with us?”

“I was right after Uni, when Mr Stark gave me that job.” You answered quietly, feeling a weird shame for even being here. “It was a great opportunity for me to grow, but I want to be a scientist, not a PA.” You smiled and looked him in the eyes. “Don’t get me wrong. Working with Mr Stark was a privilege and I was able to learn so much from him, but it’s time for me to make my own projects.” Visibly satisfied with your answer he put his glasses back on and looked at your CV.

“How about you tell us more about that idea you had?”

You closed your eyes and sighed. You felt good after the whole discussion, but it still felt like you would not get the job. Not to mention, that you would probably have to talk to Tony about your references. You whined and lay on your desk.

“Are you alright, Miss?” Jarvis’ voice was filled with concern, after registering your annoyed noises.

“Not really. I think I have an existential crisis.” You chuckled to yourself, at how stupid that sounded.

“Anything I can help you with?” You smiled at his thoughtfulness.

“Is there some kind of algorithm that would help me choose between what my heart and my brain tell me?” There was a silence for a moment after Jarvis turned on your computer showing you multiple web pages opened.

“I’m afraid there is no algorithm, but there some sociological and psychological studies regarding the issue.” You sat up and laughed out loud at this. “But Mr Stark always considered social sciences an, let me quote, “utter bullshit”, so I am not sure if they would help you.

‘Thank you Jarvis, you’re the best!” You quipped looking through the pages.

“I’ve been told!”

“I know that, she worked for me for some time now.” He murmured through the phone. He expected the call for references, but not so soon. He was sure to hear you just come back.

“This is a huge deal. We have never hired someone so young and with so little experience before.” The rector sighed on the other side of the phone. “I need to know if she will work out.” Tony frowned and looked through the window. He had Nat’s voice in his head telling him to be an adult, to not be selfish. But he can’t. He cannot lose you. You were the best and brightest thing in his life now. WIthout you he would be lost. As an Iron Man, and as Tony Stark. So he did something selfish, already hating himself for it.

“She’s a good PA. That’s all I can say.” It was harsh, and was definitely burying your chances. He knew you were more than that. He saw you in his lab, repairing his armour, or adding comments to his plans. You were more than a secretary. You were a genius. The best possible person for this job. But he was petty. He was once again acting like a kid. He heard the rectors deep sigh and he understood, that he just fucked up. Your career, your life. And the solemn idea of you finding out about it, was killing him.

“I understand confidentiality is still a thing up there?” He asked and could hear the man chuckle.

“Don’t worry, Tony.” He turned the phone off and threw it across the room, watching it crack on the wall. He fucked up. Badly.

“I see!” You tried to keep your voice as steady as possible, despite the tears appearing in your eyes. “No, no I understand, of course.” The strings of thanks and apologies were thrown and you bit your lip, hoping to end the call ASAP. “Yes, I will!” You lied, when the rector told you to keep on trying. You ended the call and let the tears flow.

It was stupid really. You knew deep down, that you wouldn’t get the job and yet. Yet it still hurt to know you weren’t enough. You wanted to climb the highest of mountains so it should not have surprised you to fall.

“What’s wrong?” You wiped your tears and put your phone away.

“Nothing, Natasha, everything is under control.” You stated, your voice only a bit shaky. You didn’t turn to welcome her. You opened your laptop and started to work.

“Did you go?” She asked, and you rolled your eyes. Can’t you just be left alone?

“Yes” short answers, hoping for her to understand you didn’t want to talk. Especially not with her. Not with the person that pushed you to go. “I’m sorry Natasha, I have lots of work to do.” The woman raised her brows and sighed.

“What happened?”

“I’m just a PA.” You answered after a moment of awkwards silence. “Without much of experience in the field. I’m nothing more than Stark’s PA, who happened to finish MIT.” You shrugged your shoulders and sighed. The tears were back and the screen was starting to get blurry. “At least I don’t have to choose anymore!” You chuckled through the sobs and hid your face in your hands. “I’m sorry. Can you… I did what you told me to. I went and I failed, please can you leave me alone? One time in my damn life I thought I am worth more than I truly am! And I knew that, but then you …!” You got up and looked her in her beautiful eyes. “Do you know why I always hide in that fucking shell of mine, you seem to have such a problem with!?” Widow’s eyes widened at your use of language. She never seen you like that. Never heard you speak so that. That little, quiet mice seemed to have enough. “Because my life taught me, that I will never be more than I am. I was never enough for anyone. My parents, people at school and Uni, my professors, and him… I learned to live with the fact that I am nothing more than a loser, unwanted by anyone. But then you had to make me go and…”

“I’m sorry.” She pulled you for a huge and kissed you at the top of your head. “I just wanted to help. I wanted to see you happy. See you live your own life. I’m sorry, sweety.” She cooed you and you couldn’t help but hug her back, repeating words of apologise into her neck.

He closed his eyes hearing your cries. Your tone, the raised voice. He wondered how long were you keeping those feelings inside. It broke his stoned heart to see you, hear you like that, only to know that he was the reason for this. You blamed Nat for it, only because you didn’t know how awful he was. He took a deep breath, and deciding to leave you be, he came back to him room. Hoping Romanoff would help you.

“What’s wrong, kiddos?” He announced looking at the Avengers assembling in the kitchen.

“Please stop saying that. There are at least three people here who are older than you.” Clint sighed, playing with his chips.

“What’s up with Lex?” Steve asked with his Captain America voice, glancing at Stark, his guts telling him, the billionaire had something to do with it.

“What do you mean?” He asked, playing stupid. It has been two weeks since the MIT call and Tony hasn’t seen you. He wasn’t sure if you were ignoring him even more than after the Christmas party, or you were just that busy. You did work. Yes, definitely did work. Everything went more smoothly than ever. He noticed because he had more free time. And if he was being honest, he was starting to get bored.

“I haven’t seen her since the party. I thought it was die to the New Year party workload, but then she seemed to disappear even more.”

“Yeah not to mention that I actually miss that big smile on her face, when she sees her favorite Avenger. “Sam chimed in, making Bucky and Nat roll their eyes. “But seriously, should we worry?” Everyone looked at Stark who sighed deeply, taking his cup of coffee with him.

“I’ll talk to her, kids. No worries, daddy will take care of it.”

“I really hate when he says that!” He chuckled, hearing Steve’s disgust in tone.

“So she lives!” You jumped at his voice, behind you. It was a middle of the night and you truly hoped he would be sleeping already. Or at least at his room. “Are you making the magical chocolate?”

“Magical chocolate?” You raised your brow at him and he smiled, shrugging his shoulder.

“I never had a better massage than during that hot chocolate night meeting last time.” you blushed and looked away, hearing him chuckle. “Any leftovers?” You nodded and prepared him a cup, pouring the mixture into it, and adding the marshmallows. She put it in front of him and was about to leave, when his fingers circled at your wrists, stopping you. “Sit with me, please.” You bit your lip nervously and obeyed taking the sit opposite. As far as possible. “I have something to tell you and you have to promise me you will listen to everything before you slap me and slap the doors behind you.” You frowned and looked at him. Your heart broken a bit, when you noticed the face he made. He looked like a kicked puppy. Like a little kid that knew he messed up.

“Mr Stark, I don’t…”

“Please… They worry about you. I worry about you. Since that damn stupid Christmas party everything went to hell. I fucked up, you saw it and…

“Listen. When you started working for me I made it clear fuck complete of a mess I was, right?” You raised your brow but nodded, even a small smile appearing on your lips. “I am a messed up person. A guy in his…” He coughed awkwardly. “Well my age doesn't matter here.” You bit your lip not to laugh, which made him smile. “I always got what I wanted. A spoiled, stupid kid, with more money and looks than brain.

“I still don’t know what you see in me.” He smiled at you softly. “I am not stupid, kid. I see the way you look at me. I do. And it flattens me. You are this genuine girl, with kind heart, smart and beautiful in and out and… You are too innocent for me to break you. I am not someone you should fall in love with. Someone who should be your first boyfriend. Your first love in life.”

“Forgive me, but I think I should have a right to decide who I fall in love with…” You bit your lip nervously, staring at the table. You missed the way he smiled softly at that. His look softened and he sighed.

“Of course. But this… This is not the reason why I needed to talk to you…” You nodded, giving him a go to continue. “How was your interview at MIT?” You stiffened and looked at him with big eyes.

“Natasha told you?”

“The rector called.” You swallowed and frowned. “For references…” Something in his tone made you realise where this was going and you felt your heart beat fasten. “I… I’m sorry kid. I-I couldn’t let you go. I needed you. I… fuck I didn’t want to live in a life where you wouldn’t be there to help me. Be there for me and…”

“What did you say, Tony?” If the situation was different he would enjoy the fact that you said his name, but not now, not with the seriousness behind it.

“I said you were a good PA.” The pain in your eyes broke his heart. You opened your eyes to say something, but couldn’t. All this made sense now. The good interview and an awful ending. “Listen… I know you may hate me now…”

“Is this all that I am?” You asked and frowned. “Is this really what you think of me? A good PA?” There was a silence between the two of you. A painful one. For both him and you.

“Of course not. You are so much more.” He tried to hold onto your hand, but you backed away. “You are so smart and incredibly talented. You can do so much more than just this job. I…

“I was afraid that you would leave and I would be alone. And this scared the shit out of me.I can’t imagine you not being here. Not being able to…”

“I quit.” His heart stopped at your proclamation. You stood up, still looking down at the table. Your hands starting to shake with anger, your heart beat fastened and you felt like you were about to cry. “I can’t… You crossed that line…”

“What line?” He asked, looking at you, hoping that whatever you just said was a stupid slip off. “I apologised, damn it!”

“And, what? Everything should be fine now? Because you apologised!?” You shouted, staring at him with your angry expression. “For so many years I hid my anger towards you. I hid it, because I loved you more than I was angry at you.” His eyes widened. He expected your feelings, but hearing them was a totally different aspect. “But this? You ruined my future, my dreams because you are a selfish bastard!” You pushed your hands away from him to make sure you wouldn’t punch him.

“I told you I was afraid…”

“Yes!” You shouted, tears streaming down your cheeks. “You were afraid. You didn’t stop for a second to even consider how I was feeling. You knew… I told you so many times before about my dreams. About my insecurities about them, and yet you used them against me. You used that biggest doubt and used it for your own good! It shouldn’t surprise me, not should it hurt. But yet here I am, with my heart broken. Because I was so close in burying that dream, only to make you happy. To stay by your side, because helping you was more important for me than pursuing my own dreams!” You shook your head and clenched your fingers. “I went for that damn interview, because Natasha made me. She told me I hiding behind you, afraid to take a step forward. But it wasn’t it. I was just trying to protect you. Make you happy. And what do I get in return? you betrayed me, Tony. The one person I thought I could trust, the one person who I thought new about my insecurities. The one man I was able to trust and love in my stupid life, used me, because his needs were more important than what I’d want.” You wiped your eyes and turned around. “I will send you an email with PA that would gladly take my place.”

“I don’t want them!” he shouted, getting up to get closer to you. “I don’t want anyone, but you. I know! Fuck, I know i made a mistake. I know I was selfish, but please… one more time. Give me a chance to prove myself. To show you I am not a dick! Please! I won’t survive without you. I need you. I…”

“No Tony... “ You smiled sadly and took a step away from him. “You don’t need me. You need the idea of me. You need a person who would follow your every step, Who would do your job without saying a word. Who would follow you like a lost puppy. A part of me always thought you gave me this job due to my powers, but that it wasn’t it. You just needed someone who would adore you the same way you adore yourself. But I had enough.”

“I thought you love me!” He hissed at you, when you were almost at the corridor. “Was that a lie?” Not able to control yourself you laughed through tears. You turned around, walked towards him and slapped him across the face.

“Don’t you ever dare to say that! i loved you for so long. I loved you when you brought all those women here. I loved you when you shouted at me and made me feel like I was nothing. I loved you when you were away to those damn missions. i loved you while I was healing you and I loved you when you pushed your tongue in that blonde’s mouth.” He flinched, remembering the Christmas party. “I loved you despite hurting. I loved you so much that I decided to stay by your side for so long, despite being unwanted. I knew… I knew how absurd those feelings were. I knew someone like you, who has everything, would never fall in love with me. And you made that completely clear at the party. You gave a little hope, and then crushed it. But not anymore Tony. I have had enough and before it escalates I need to leave.”

“You won’t get any opinion from me. You won’t get a job anywhere in the industry” He shouted. He hated himself when those words left his lips. He hated the look you gave him. He wanted to apologize and say that this was bullshit. He wanted you to stay. But he knew, there was no way. No way for you to forgive him. Not anymore.

“Yeah. Thanks, Mr Stark. It was a pleasure to work for you!”

***

He watched you smile at the kid, who giggled at your adorable, funny face. She was crying and you did everything you could to stop her from crying, while her mom went to the bathroom. He didn’t know how good you were with kids. He never seen you with any. He watched you give her a chocolate cookie, which had probably brighten her day. And he watched when you smiled at the woman, who was probably thanking you for taking care of the little girl.

He looked at the place and sighed. This was not something you dreamed of. It was an MIT nor a technological industry. When you left for real, leaving him with a three page long email with names of the best PAs in the country, he called every big business, including MIT, giving them the best references he could give. His heart broken even more, when the MIT’s HR called and told him that you have declined their job offer. You hated him and he hated himself.

He knew Natasha talked to you from time to time. Clint and Steve came here for your coffee and “The best apple pie’ in Boston. They took that extra way to see you at least once in three months. Bruce send you emails regarding some new tech Avengers were using and you answered him with possible ideas of how to make them better.

You still loved that world. He could see it and hear how you missed that and the Avengers. he was able to see through Jarvis’ system, that you connected to talk to him. You kept in touch with everyone, even a stupid AI, and not him. You left the next day. Your bags were gone, room cleaned up and only an email waiting for him.

Mr Stark.

According to our contract I should be giving you a two weeks notice of my leaving, however, due to my unused vacation days, I am taking them and I quit immediately from today. As I promised, you can find attached the list of the best PA in this country. I made you all of your business had been taken care of.

I would greatly appreciate if you didn’t try to get in touch with me in any ways. I am planning on starting a new life. I hope our paths won’t have to cross in the future and....

I wish you well, Tony. I really do. When I think about it, it was me who was an idiot. It was me who fallen in love with someone who could only love himself. I was the idiot one. So yes. I do wish you all the best Tony.

Love,

Lex

He hated and loved this email. It was the last thing from you. He didn’t contact you, didn’t try to find you. You deserved it. After everything he’s done for you, you deserved freedom from him. Away from his selfish ass.

He was able to keep that promise for two years. Two years of his teammates talking about your new coffee place, your new flat in Boston and a boyfriend you broke up with two months ago. They tried to stay quiet when he walked in but he was still able to hear them. They loved and cared about you. And who was he to neglect that.

But two years were enough. He had enough and he decided to be selfish this one time. One more time. Come here see you and if you give him a chance, apologise.

“Iron Man!” He froze hearing a boy shouting from the inside of the coffee place. He noticed your frozen figure and he wanted to run away. He was actually very close in just walking away, when you turned around and he felt his heart stopping. You became so beautiful. You have lost some weight, your hair gotten longer at those eyes. Those beautiful eyes were still so mesmerizing. “Mommy, It’s Tony Stark!”

You watched with disbelief at the man outside of your coffee place. You followed his every move, when he walked in, and smiled at the boy, taking some pictures with him and signing his cap. You scanned him and something you hoped died a long time ago, came back to life. The butterflies were back. You closed your eyes and turned around, pretending like you were focused on cleaning the coffee machine. Anything not to look at him. not to focus on those beautiful face, and charming smile.

“Lex”, you flinched at his quiet, almost scared whisper. He walked closer and you were afraid to turn around. “Ma’am can i order?” You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t just say no. It was possible that it was a coincidence. Maybe he came here for business and… No! It was Tony Stark, nothing was just ‘lucky’ for him.

“Of course, sir. What would you like?” You turned around and tried to give him your most natural, customer service smile.

“How about that chocolate you used to make and 10 minutes of your time.” You bit your lips and took a deep breath.

“We have three types of chocolate, Sir. What is it you want? White, milk or dark?”

“Lex, please!” He whispered, his hands travelled to cup yours, but you took a step away from the counter. He closed his eyes and looked around. “Can we please talk when you close? Please?” It wasn’t often that Tony Stark was begging and the mean part, which hated him, was happy to see him in emotional pain. But the part that still loved him felt sorry for him. And so you agreed, telling him you were closing in three hours. He ordered a dark chocolate and an apple pie and sat at the corner of the place, patiently waiting.

“I told you not to contact me!” You hissed, when the last customer left the place. You turned around and gave him your angry look. “One thing I asked of you! Damn it, Stark!”

“Two years… Come on, Lex. It’s been two years I missed you.” He sounded and looked so small. He looked like he wanted to cry and run away as quickly as possible. Like coming here was the biggest mistake of his life. “I… Fuck… Can we sit down?” You crossed your hands on your chest and he sighed. “I never apologised.” You frowned at him and smiled at you. A small, unsure smile. “I never said what I truly wanted to say to you that day. So if you give me ten minutes, I will tell you. 10 minutes and maybe one more of your chocolate?”

“I turned off the machine.” You stated, making him swallow hard at your tone.

“Sure. Yeah.” He took a deep breath and sat down on one of the stools. “I was the biggest asshole in the Universe, but I was afraid. I was afraid that the only person I truly trusted and loved would leave me. Like my mom did. I was a mess when she died. She was the only one that really knew me, the same as you. But she had to be there for me, she needed to love me, because I was her child. Her only son. You didn’t have to and yet you still did. And it scared me, because I didn’t understand why someone like you would ever love me. So when I heard you went for a job interview I got scared, that I will lose you. Yes I was a selfish prick and if I could turn back time I would, trust me.

“All those things you said to me that day were true. And I just wish you would have told me them sooner, I would have the opportunity to work on myself not to lose you. I wanted to stop you and so out of fear I did something I was only good at. I pushed you away. Even more. When I heard you took down proposition from MIT I knew I fucked up.”

“I felt like I would owe you something and I didn’t want that.” He nodded and hid his face in his his hands.

“I fucked up big times. The worst thing was not because I tried to hurt you, but because I tried to not feel pain myself. I was selfish. Hell, I am still selfish for coming here.” You raised your brow but let him continue. You heart slowly melting at his words. You never stopped loving him and this all was not making it easier to forget about him. “I know those words mean nothing to you now. But I love you and I miss you. What I wouldn’t give to have you back in my life. Even if only as a friend. I am not afraid to say that I love you. And I need you. And not the idea of you, but you. That selfless, kind hearted woman, with the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. I want and need you. With me in my life, in NY. I know you have your life here in Boston, but… I just want you to know that.”

“It took you hell of a lot of time, Stark.” He looked up and frowned seeing a little smile on your lips. “I guess I lost a bet with Nat.”

“A bet?”

“Yeah”, you shrugged and chuckled. “I believed you’d forget about me and never come to see me, and well, Nat was sure you’d come to find me in the first three years I was away.”

“Yeah. She’s scary. I think it’s a Russian thing.” He rolled his eyes dramatically and you chuckled. “You’re not mad at me anymore?”

“Oh, I hate you, don’t get me wrong!” He opened his mouth to say something, but was smart enough not to. “But I still love you and people say love is stronger than hate.” He was looking at you with those big puppy, brown eyes. “But I want to start over. Be your friend. Get to know Tony Stark, and…”

“And? I will give you anything you want, Lex!” He took a step closer and took your hands in his. This time you didn’t pull away.

“That place on Brooklyn. There used to be a pancake place, but now it's free and no one bought it. I want it.” He looked at you and chuckled. Pulling you closer, he kissed the top of your head.

“Sure thing, sweetheart. It’s all yours. So am I.”

#tony stark #tony stark x oc #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #PA #Avengers #Happy Ending #angst #Iron Man #Tony Stark fanfiction

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nonstoplover · 4 years

Text

Café ~ Dave Franco

masterlist

Summary: (Y/N) loves spending her time in her favourite coffee shop, but what she’d never imagine is that one day it becomes more than just grabbing a coffee, spending time with a specific brown haired boy…

Words: 2.7K

Approximate reading time: about 10 mins

A/N: this was my first actual request, and it was so long ago i’m sure you already forgot about it, @mcrvellouslystcrk but i didn’t, and after this long time i’m here with the finished product. i’m sorryyyy for taking so long, i had a terrible writer’s block, but now inspiration came back and i finished it in only a couple days. hope you enjoy

The smell of freshly brewed coffee catches my nostrils as I enter the small, indie-themed café. I take a deep breath happily like a real coffee addict when I feel the familiar calmness spread through my veins because of the oh-so-loved smell.

I look around, gladly noticing that my favourite table at the back of the room, next to the furthest window is left free, as if it’s waiting only for me.

I quickly walk towards the wooden furniture, placing my coat and scarf on one of the chairs as a signal that it’s taken before stepping to the counter to ask for the coffee I always order.

The girl behind the counter only glances up and she already recognises me, a smile appears on her face as she moves to start making a coffee for me.

“The same as usual, am I right? How are you today?”

“Yes, exactly. I’m great, thank you, a little tired.” I answer, smiling back at her.

“I’m glad you’re feeling great.” She beams up at me, pausing for a moment before speaking up again, finishing up the final touches on my order. “Let me tell you this one thing though, today has been absolutely crazy. So many people came in, even a couple celebrities!”

“Oh, really? I haven’t seen anyone.” I quickly look around to see if there is anyone famous around, but don’t catch sight of anyone except the bored businessmen and hippie-looking writers typing away on their laptops.

“It’s quite a surprise that your table stayed free to be honest. Some movie is being shot near here, all the crew and staff comes to take a drink. Which is of course great, because the more orders, the more money, and also you can meet a lot of famous people, but you know, I can’t take a rest if there are so many people…” She hands me the familiar reusable paper cup. “But enough of my ranting, have a nice time here as usual and enjoy your drink.”

I stroll back to my table, sitting down. A happy sigh escapes past my lips as I finally taste the hot beverage on my tongue, and I quickly reach in my bag with my free hand to take my book out. It almost opens up by itself at the page I finished reading the last time due to having been read a few times already.

Calmness spreads all over me again right away, making me forget all my problems and nervousness as I take in the words from the lovely smelled pages.

Not many minutes later out of nowhere I hear a gentle cough from above my head as the shadow of a body appears in the corner of my eyes, standing next to me. I look up to see a man with a cup similar to mine in his hand, mouth smiling down at me but his eyes stay hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

“Hello. Sorry for disturbing, is this seat taken?”

“Oh, no, it’s not, feel free to sit down.” I’m quick to reply, pulling my things closer to me on the wooden surface to free up more space on it.

“Thank you,” he smiles and as he sits down, a strange feeling comes over me. I know this man. “I’m Dave by the way.”

And all of a sudden I know why he seemed so familiar.

He’s Dave Franco. The Dave Franco. I’m sitting at the same table with Dave Franco.

These thoughts run through my mind swiftly, his name repeated every other second as a wave of recognition hits me, but I’m quick to re-gain composure and half-recover from the shock I’m feeling and I try to act like I don’t know who he is.

“Ah, I’m… I’m (Y/N).”

“Beautiful name,” he announces before taking a sip of his drink. “Mmm, it tastes absolutely fantastic.”

“Yeah, this place is the best in town.” I slowly drink from mine as a shy smile spreads across my face.

“You come here often?”

“Yes, once a week. I used to come here almost every day but I realised that I’m going to spend all my money here and soon I’ll gain more weight than I’d want to, so I reduced the number of my visits to only once in a week. It’s my happy place. Here I can calm down whenever I need to,” I speak, words flying out my mouth rapidly. “Ugh, sorry, I’m rambling about my nonsense to a stranger.”

“Please, don’t apologize, I’m interested,” he smiles my way before lowering his head, eyes probably noticing the book laying in front of me. “What are you reading?”

Oh, well, that’s it. You can’t hide it anymore. He’s gonna find out that you know him.

“Nerve. I saw the film adaptation a while back and loved it so much that I decided to read it,” I mumble, staring right at the mentioned book, not being able to look up at his face.

A few second long silence comes as an answer and I glance up to see the blush creeping up his cheeks as he processes my words.

“So you’ve seen the movie, eh?” He finally says, voice a bit raspy before clearing his throat.

“Yeah.” I can’t tell which one of us is more embarrassed and flushed red at the moment, but I can’t take it after a while and look back down at my hands resting on the table.

“Then you know who I…” his voice gets more and more quiet as he speaks, slowly dying off, as he’s not being able to finish the sentence he has started.

“Yep, I know who you are, Dave Franco. I admire your work actually,” I say quietly, making sure no one else around us hears my words, my eyes still casted on my hands.

Only a couple seconds later I get the courage finally to raise my head up and look at his face, somewhere where his eyes are probably situated behind the sunglasses, and I’m trying hard to calm down, or to at least look like I’m calm from his point of view when in reality inside my chest my heart seems to burst with excitement.

“Oh,” is his only response.

“You alright?” I ask as he starts uncomfortably shifting. Did I say something I shouldn’t have?

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’m just a bit… surprised,” he pauses in the middle of his sentence, probably searching for the right word.

“Surprised?” I cock an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“I’m not used to get this reaction from girls who know who I am.”

Then probably my trying has succeeded and I do look like I’m calm.

“Well, you know, it doesn’t have such a huge impact on me. I’ve met with other huge celebrities in my life.”

He clears his throat, seeming even more uncomfortable by now.

“I’m only joking. I’ve never met any famous people before actually,” I chuckle after seeing his expression.

“Oh. Oh!” Dave kinda exclaims in realization. “Then how are you so calm?”

“I’m not.” I admit with a blush appearing on my face.

“Then you’re a great actor,” he smiles before moving to take another sip of his drink.

“I don’t think so, but I have to admit that it feels nice to hear this coming from an already proven to be amazing actor.”

Now it’s his time to blush. He shakes his head before an adorable giggle rolls out from his mouth.

“What?” I laugh. “It’s not like you didn’t know that.”

“Yeah, but I can’t get used to hearing it from a random pretty girl I just met at a random café.” Dave looks at me, his eyebrows half raised, appearing from behind the sunglasses.

Hearing those words I can’t keep looking at him and turn my gaze away. I stare into my cup, watching intently how the steam slowly flies up, out of the brown coloured beverage.

“So, (Y/N). What do you do? Work? College?” Dave speaks up again and I take a deep breath before looking back up, only to see that he has lowered the accessory sitting on his nose, and he’s now watching me curiously with nothing in the way of his set of lovely, brown eyes.

“So, David. I’m a uni student at the moment but I’m also working. So technically both.” I keep a straight face on, a kind of challenging one to be exact.

“What do you study?”

“Psychology.” I answer, and he freezes for a moment, his eyes gleaming with interest before probably deciding on to simply continue interviewing me.

“What do you work?”

“I’m a waitress.”

“Oh, nice. Where?” Dave nods.

“A nearby restaurant.”

“I see, you pretty much like this neighbourhood.”

“You don’t even know it all.” I chuckle. He’s just about to speak up again when I lean closer and as a top secret I whisper the answer to the question I know he’s just about to ask. “I even live in this neighbourhood.”

“No way.” Dave gasps, leaning in above the table like me.

I nod, glancing around to see if anyone else heard what I said, staying in character the whole time. When I look back into his light brown orbs, he breathes out a quiet ‘why’ and I can feel the air coming out past his lips on the skin of my face.

Suddenly I’m more than aware of the fact that we’re only a few mere centimetres away from each other’s face.

A shiver runs down my spine and then moves through my whole body as Dave leans back in his seat and starts laughing.

“I actually still believe that you would be a terrifically awesome actress.”

“Well, thank you.”

“Wow, no resistance? Where’s the girl I got to know a few minutes ago? All rebel and stuff.”

Laughter takes control over me as I watch, well actually almost admire his whole presence as he sips from his cup again, his eyes never leaving me, even for a second.

“After this improvised scene we just did I think I see what you mean,” I shrug when my laughter finally quietens.

“Maybe I should introduce you to my manager. You know, to see if you’d get a role in something.”

“I’m pretty sure I would get the leading role in any movie without making a real effort.” I smirk.

“Can I be honest with you?” Dave all of a sudden leans forward again, a serious expression spreading across his cheeks. I nod curiously and he continues. “I miss the old shy (Y/N). I don’t like this sarcastic, cocky new version.” I burst out laughing, so hard that I have to grab at my sides as it starts to hurt, quickly losing my breath. People sitting around us cast curious or even irritated glances towards me, but I can’t help it and I keep on laughing.

A few minutes pass by with only my laughter and other various background noises filling up the air before I try to calm myself down. After taking a few deep breaths I manage to sit back up straight and look at him.

He’s watching me with something different in his eyes. Something I would describe as adoration, but that can’t be true. Why would he ever look at me like that?

“That’s what you get after getting to know me.” I speak up to divert my thoughts.

“Yeah?” He grins, the previous look in his eyes decreasing but not fully disappearing.

“Yeah. I’m usually described as a pretty sarcastic person. People also get annoyed with me quite often,” I admit, curiously waiting for his reaction.

“We have to meet more then so I can get to know you, you made me interested. Now I wanna see why people get annoyed.” Dave looks at me with a daring gleam in his eyes.

My heart stops for a second at his obviously flirty answer. Why would he want to meet me?

“We’re both quite busy people from what I can tell. How do you wanna do that?” I crook my neck, glancing up at him intrigued from the new, different angle.

“I don’t know yet. We have to figure it out.”

About half a minute passes with neither of us speaking, but the intension of our stares grows more and more as we can’t tear our gaze away, trapped in the depth of the eyes of each other.

“I was serious, I hope you know that,” Dave speaks again with his expression turning less playful. “I want to meet you again.”

A blush makes its way to my cheeks as his eyes soften, him still not taking them off me. “I’d love to meet you again, too,” I answer quietly.

“Amazing!” He grins.

Another few seconds pass in a comfortable silence, the type that’s filled with deep, maddening thinking.

“Actually, I admit, I’m still not sure why you wanna do that,” I speak my thoughts out loud. “You don’t even know who I am and if I’m crazy, like at all. Nothing.”

“I know. We only met a few minutes ago.” His eyes are still the same soft and I’m effortlessly melting in those auburn irises.

“Exactly.”

“Well, only in a few seconds you woke an interest in me. And I have this weird feeling that we could be great friends.”

Friends. So that’s what he wants. Only friends. I feel like something just hit me hard in the chest. Of course, why would he want anything more? How could I be so stupid?

“(Y/N)? (Y/N),” the concern in his voice breaks me out of the train of thoughts that goes on in my head. "Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking.”

“I have to go back to set now, but I wanted to ask for your number.”

The butterflies in my stomach start flying around again but I stop them, knowing that it’s useless. He only sees me as a friend. He only wants to be my friend.

“Oh, sure. Give me your phone.” I say, faking a smile on my face, my thoughts still swirling about how much of an idiot I feel like at the moment for thinking I could ever be more to someone like him.

Dave’s right hand is already holding the phone prepared for this, so in less than a moment he places it on the surface of the table. I grab it, typing in my number and name before pressing save and placing it back in his palm.

I’m still somewhere deep in my thoughts, not paying real attention to the situation when I notice him staring at me, clearly waiting for something.

“What?” I ask.

“Give me your phone as well. Or you don’t want my number?” Dave jokes but I can see it in his eyes that he’s truly worried about yes being the answer to his question.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” I stutter, quickly reaching into my bag to pull my phone out, unlocking it and almost throwing it in his hand because of the speed I want to do it.

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down, I’m not in that much of a hurry,” he laughs.

I let out a nervous chuckle, trying to get away from my previous thoughts, not letting them come back.

“Okay, here you go,” he puts it down and stands up before speaking again. “Well, talk to you later.”

“You too.” I turn my head up towards him. He pushes his sunglasses back up to over his eyes before flashing a heart melting smile at me.

“Have a nice day. It was a pleasure to spend my break with you.”

“Yeah, it was pretty nice to meet you. Have fun on set.”

He nods, both our smiles matching the other’s, bright and happy, before he turns away and starts making his way towards the door. He turns back once more and while taking a few steps backwards, speaks up one last time.

“Sorry for not letting you read.”

I only chuckle, shaking my head as a signal that it’s not a problem.

The smile stays on my face the whole time while I’m drinking the last few sips of my coffee, not even touching my book again, just staring out of my head to the table in front of me.

When I finish, I quickly place all my stuff back in my bag and stand up, pulling on my jacket.

“Saw you had a nice company.” Maddy, the barista appears next to me out of nowhere, a piece of material in her hand to clean the table I was sitting at.

“You did?” I ask back, confused that she isn’t freaking out by the fact that it was indeed a famous actor.

“At least he looked pretty decent from behind,” she speaks without looking up at me, and it becomes clear to me why she’s so calm.

“Didn’t he face you at the counter though?”

“Oh yeah, really… ” Maddy pauses with a thoughtful expression on her face, then suddenly seems to remember the situation more exactly as she continues with an explanation. “He had his sunglasses on at the time, I couldn’t see his face.”

“Oh, I see.” I move my head in a nod, accepting that she didn’t recognise his face without the full view of it like I did.

“So, was he good?” She winks at me.

“Yeah, pretty handsome.” I blush, remembering how my conversation with Dave Franco turned out.

Maddy finishes cleaning and folds the cloth in her hands, smirking at me.

“I saw you exchange phone numbers, so… fill me in with the details next week.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” I giggle.

“Have a nice week!”

“You too, Maddy.” I call out while making my way towards the door and stepping out of the café.

Crisp early spring air enters my nose as soon as I close the door behind me, and I take a deep breath, enjoying the chillness that fills up my lungs in no time.

Feeling refreshened and happy I glance up at the light blue sky, squint a bit because of the sun that’s shining bright down at me, and as a joyous smile reaches across my face, I start walking away in the direction of my apartment, feeling content in my heart.

.::the end::.

Part Two here

masterlist

#dave franco #dave franco imagine #now you see me #jack wilder #nerve #nerve ian #franco #requested #imagine #café shop #coffee date #21 jump street #22 jump street

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years

Text

Endeavor

Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Next chapter goes up on August 8th! =)

Chapter 2

Ted walked into the office the next morning and went right to the sign that Vic had made the day before. He had scoured the internet to find out what these old machines sounded like and did his best to imitate the noises he'd heard on different obscure YouTube videos as he mimicked stamping his time card. Vic laughed at her desk while he did so.

"Good morning," He grinned at her as he sat in his desk chair. "Did you clock in?"

"Oh yes," Vic nodded seriously, "I want to make sure I keep this job. It's helping to support my family until they find me a good husband."

Ted pushed down the question of whether or not Sean was in the running for her husband and the question of if Sean was worried about helping her keep her job.

"What a noble thing to do, so selfless of you." He grinned when she laughed. He really liked the sound of her laugh.

"So how was running around with Uncle Ron all day yesterday?"

Ted smirked, "Brutal, the hazing here is intense. I don't know how you put up with it."

Vic shook her head, "How else will we know if you're up to working here?"

Ted laughed, "See this is how I know that working here is the right move. I like a group that doesn't mess around, no-nonsense, nose to the grindstone, that's how I like it."

Vic laughed, "I can tell. I don't think there's a bone in your body that knows how to joke around."

"Not a one," Ted shrugged, "some people think it's a waste, but I think they're just jealous."

Vic laughed before her phone rang and she composed herself to answer it.

Ted took advantage of the moment to get his laptop turned on and start unloading the few things he brought for his desk. He'd just started to look through the new potential clients that Ron had been wanting to reach out to when Vic's voice spoke up.

"A wolf figurine?" She picked up the wolf his mum had given him when he finished A-Levels.

Ted gave a nervous laugh, "Er, do you know my last name?"

She bit her lip, "No, does that make me a bad coworker?"

Ted shook his head but he couldn't keep from smiling. "You know if I answer that honestly, I'm only going to make you feel bad."

"Do you even know my last name?" Vic crossed her arms over her chest, still holding the wolf.

Ted smirked, "Why yes, Weasley, I do."

Vic blushed and then laughed, "Fine, I'm an awful person, now what's your last name?"

"You think I'll let you off the hook that easily, Weasley?" Ted grinned. "You underestimate me."

"Oh, come on, I admitted to being awful." She kicked his foot.

"And I admire your honesty." Ted held out his hand for his wolf figurine.

Vic smirked. "I think I'll hold on to this, at least until I guess your last name."

Teddy briefly considered fighting her for it, but he smiled when she rubbed her hand over it like it was a puppy she was petting.

"Sure, hold on to it."

She blinked and bit her lip before smiling, "Thanks, I'll give it back once I figure out your last name."

Ted shrugged and grabbed his phone to call the first company on Ron's list. "I won't hold my breath."

Vic went to argue with him, but Teddy held up his hand and responded to the receptionist that had answered his call.

Her playful glare put a smile on his face for the rest of the calls he had to make.

"Did you bring lunch?" Vic asked as she moved to the fridge.

Ted looked up at the clock and raised his eyebrows. Was it really already one o'clock?

"Er, yeah, I did," Ted pulled his backpack to him.

Vic moved to the card table as Ted sat at his desk and pulled out his sandwich.

"You're going to eat at your desk?"

Ted looked up at her, "Yep."

"Well, this will be an awkward lunch hour. I'm practically shouting at you from over here."

Ted smirked, "Yeah, really awkward."

Vic pulled her drink to her lips and Teddy felt his smirk morphing into a smile. She had something about her, something that kept pulling him in even when his brain kept telling him to back off. Honestly, he needed to stop, she was snogging a guy in the office when he wasn't there. But try as he might, Ted couldn't stop himself. Vic was pulling him in and he couldn't, or maybe he wouldn't stop her.

"Well, what shall we shout about?"

"Do you normally shout with the men in your life?"

"Only when they insist on sitting fifty feet away from me."

"Fifty feet? This office is barely twenty feet across." Ted laughed.

Vic ignored him, "No one likes a cleverclogs, Ted."

He laughed loudly at that one, "Fine, I don't normally care for shouting at the women in my life, but if you insist on eating all the way over there, I can make a special exception for you."

"You're ridiculous," Vic laughed and went to say more when her cell phone rang.

She looked torn as she looked at the screen before mouthing sorry to him and swiping to answer.

"Hi, Sean."

Ted turned to look out the window and tried to push away the annoyance he felt. It would make sense her boyfriend would call over her lunch hour. He tried to tune her out and focus on the cars driving past the office building, but the catch in her voice as she spoke again completely threw that idea out the window.

"Oh, are you sure you can't do that another night?"

Ted focused on chewing his food to keep from turning to look at her.

"No, I understand, just, we planned this out last month."

It was involuntary. Ted glanced her way and saw one of the most dejected looks he'd ever seen, including when Lily was two-years-old and didn't get a second scoop of ice cream.

"Alright, but I'll see you tonight?"

Ted looked back out the window and took a long drink from his water bottle.

"Oh, right, well, text me then."

It wasn't his business, but Ted couldn't help but feel like taking it to blows with Sean. How dare he treat this amazing woman like someone he could blow off?

"Right. Bye."

Ted finally allowed himself to turn his office chair back to face Vic and found her gripping her phone tightly between her hands.

"Everything alright?"

Vic took a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah, just, just plans changing and I've always been a little frustrated when that happens."

"Must be something big to cancel plans that have been set out for a month."

Vic swallowed hard and took a bite of her sandwich. Ted took the hint and moved the conversation forward.

"Well, while you were rudely interrupting our shouting match, I thought we might start shouting about how insane it is that Ron couldn't find space for two more desks at the main office."

Vic grinned. "You're more observant than most. I have two theories on that one."

"Wait!" Ted held up his hand as he set down his sandwich. "We have to make sure that he hasn't bugged the office to spy on us."

He started inspecting the ceiling and the floors, Vic's laughter echoing in the small space. Ted opened the supply closet and the bathroom and the fridge and the microwave before deciding he'd played the part well enough and went back to his desk.

"Alright, I think the coast is clear. Now, what are your theories?"

Vic grinned, "Well, my first theory is that he's protective of me, and doesn't want me involved with all the politicking that happens at the main office. But my second theory is that he doesn't want this to keep being a part of Bread & Butter. I think he's prepping this so that it could become its own operation. And that transition goes much smoother if the people who work here haven't been involved with Bread & Butter at all. I mean, aside from meeting everyone at the main office, did you get contact information? Sure, we could find them over the company system, but we don't do anything that involves them at all. Uncle Ron even hires a different company to deliver for our department than the rest of the company."

Teddy felt his eyes go huge. "Vic you're brilliant!"

Vic blushed, "Well, that's just my speculation…"

"No!" Teddy shook his head, "You're a genius, really, and that's going to completely change the game!"

Ted snagged his notebook and pen and started jotting down notes.

"What are you on about?" Vic moved back to her desk chair and rolled it to his desk.

"Vic, my degree is in marketing, not sales, but your uncle hired me basically on the spot. He's got you running a website and coordinating deliveries. But he's completely cut us off from the rest of Bread & Butter. He told me that he wanted to see me pioneer this division. Vic, we're building a company! And I know how to market that! My job title says Salesman, but I'm sitting on the precipice of being the Chief Marketing Officer. If I can show Ron what I can do to increase my sales, if you and I can grow this into something big, Vic we could be the C-staff of this gig!"

Vic stared at him for a long moment before rolling back to her desk and grabbing a notepad and pen.

"So, what do we do?"

"Why did Ron hire you?" Ted pushed back in his chair.

Vic looked down, "Because I needed a job."

"No," Teddy shook his head, "I will put a thousand pounds down that he did not pity hire you. Did you go to university or any sort of training after A-levels?"

Vic shrugged, "I went to uni, but my degree is in communications, how does that help here?"

Ted looked out the window and thought about it, trying to connect the dots. What did Ron have in store for Vic? Then it hit him.

"You're pretty close with Ron?"

Vic smiled, "I'm his and Aunt Hermione's go-to sitter for Rose and Hugo. And growing up they were always my favorite to play with at family gatherings."

"You're Ron's pick for Chief Operating Officer," Ted scribbled down in his notebook again. "He knows he can trust you to handle anything he throws at you. Did you know anything about managing a website before this?"

Vic shrugged, "No, but it wasn't hard to learn. I watched a load of online courses and I've been able to keep it going pretty well after that."

Ted grinned, "We're building this company up Vic, and we didn't even have to do the hard part, we get to jump into the fun and make this happen!"

"Ted," Vic bit her lip, "I was just speculating. I have no idea if I'm right."

Ted shook his head. "But it doesn't matter if you're right or not. Don't you see Vic? Even if this isn't Ron's intention, we can make this his intention. We can make this big enough to be its own company."

Vic shook her head. "Ted, I don't know the first thing about running a company or even what a chief operating officer is."

Ted looked at the clock, it was nearly two and he had a phone meeting scheduled with a client. "What are you doing after work? We can plan this out, I can teach you what we're working towards, give you the vision of where we're heading."

Vic looked at her cell phone for a moment and licked her lips.

Ted guessed she was thinking about Sean. "This would just be work, Vic, we'll even stay here at the office."

"Right," she kept looking at her black phone screen. "Right, ok, I'm free tonight."

"Perfect," Ted tried to ignore the way his heart beat faster. "We'll order some dinner and then we can start mapping this out, make ourselves a plan."

She smiled and looked back at him, "Sounds great."

Ted would have sworn that all of their clients were talking in slow motion as he had his phone meetings throughout the rest of the day. But finally, five rolled around and Teddy felt like he'd won the lottery.

This wasn't a date; he reprimanded his stupid heart. This was a business planning meeting with dinner involved. This wasn't a date.

"What are you in the mood for?" Vic scrolled through the options on her computer.

"I'm not picky, my family has always been pretty adventurous when it comes to food."

"Oh, there's an Indian place the next street over, how does that sound?"

Ted grinned, "Sounds good, but I doubt they'll do as well as my Uncle James."

"Uncle Harry's dad?"

Ted nodded. "Hands down he could out cook the majority of the Indian restaurants in London."

"I'll have to try that sometime then. But what do you want from here?"

They placed their orders and when it came time to enter the payment, Ted pushed her chair so it rolled across the room and quickly typed in his card info and paid.

"I have cash, I can pay you my share." Vic shoved her chair at him.

"How are you going to get me to take your cash? You don't even know my last name." Ted sat back down in his chair and grinned.

"I could stick it in your shirt pocket." She grabbed her purse out of her desk and started counting out the correct number of bills.

"I'll throw it back at you. I'm not the sort of bloke to throw money at women, but when it's her own money I'll make a special exception." Ted put his hands behind his head and leant back in his chair and smirked.

"Here," she stood and slipped the small wad of bills into his shirt pocket.

Ted almost shivered at her touch, but just as soon as she pulled her hand away, he grabbed the money and threw it back at her.

"You're not paying me back."

Vic picked up the money from the floor. "Come on, aren't we supposed to be coworkers?"

"I don't use bills," Ted shrugged, "I'd probably just lose them. It's a waste of your money to pay me back."

"Really, Ted, you can't just go buying me dinner."

"Of course, I can, you don't know my last name, I can get away with almost anything right now," Ted smirked at her.

"You know, all I have to do is find you on the company roster and I'd know your last name."

"Do you know my first name?" Ted kicked his feet out in front of him.

"No, I'm just calling you Ted because it felt right."

Teddy ignored the way his heart beat harder at her wording.

"Ted is a shortened version of my name, and there happens to be more than one name that shortens to Ted." He smirked at her. "The company roster has my full proper name, Weasley."

Vic narrowed her eyes at him. "I could always call Aunt Ginny."

Ted shrugged, "You could, I don't think you will, but you could. She is my godmother, after all, she would definitely want to know why you want to know my full name."

Vic bit her lip. "If I knew your full name would you take the money?"

"Nope," Teddy grinned at the groan Vic let out.

"You are absolutely impossible!"

"Infuriating isn't it? You should meet the men who taught me how to do this."

"You mean there are men out there who teach you to be awful?" Vic kicked half-heartedly at his feet still stretched out near her chair.

"Oh yes, they taught me all of the awful things, like paying for dinner and holding doors open and being kind and saying please and thank you and asking for consent and all the other things that turn you into a right scoundrel."

Vic chuckled, "Sound like a group of tossers."

Ted smiled; the Marauders had their moments.

"They're the best men I know."

"I'd like to meet them someday."

Her voice had a softer quality to it and Ted felt his heart caving into the sound of it combined with the little smile that touched her lips.

"So, keep your money," Ted tried to bring the joking back as he cleared his throat. "Because those same men will kick my arse if you don't."

"That I might pay to see." Vic laughed and put her foot out to tap his.

"So cruel," Ted shook his head.

Then their dinner arrived and Ted was grateful for the interruption. He was quickly finding himself falling fast with Vic and he didn't want to stop himself. This woman was everything he'd ever looked for and he just felt in sync with her. It was easy, too easy. So easy that he was already having to stop himself from reaching out to touch her. She wasn't his. She had a boyfriend. He needed to back off. He needed to stop.

But he didn't. He justified it by telling himself that this opportunity to grow their division into its own operation was too good to pass up. And Vic deserved this. She deserved to see how far she could go. To see that Ron trusted her more than she probably understood. And if he could give her that, well, it would be worth holding himself back, mostly.

"Alright, I'm going to have to roll myself out of here." Vic moved what was left of her food to the fridge. "Let's get started and you can teach me all those things I need to know to help run a start-up."

Ted grinned and put the rest of his food in the fridge with hers.

"Good idea, the sooner we start the better, you don't want to be driving home in the dark." Ted teased.

Vic blushed, "Well, I go home to my parents' so I'd prefer it after dark. Then most everyone is asleep."

"Alright then, I'll make sure to go into great depth and detail to make sure you aren't leaving here until well after sunset. Then you can pretend you bought your childhood home and live alone with your cat."

Vic scoffed, "Do I look like a woman who would own a cat?"

Ted nodded, "Oh yes, you have the crazy cat lady vibe going for you."

Vic threw a napkin at him, "I hate you."

"How can you hate me? You've known me for less than 72 hours." Ted threw the napkin back at her.

"You just called me a crazy cat lady!"

"No, I said you had the vibe for it," Ted kicked her foot from under the card table. "I'm sure you'll not end up alone without anyone to fill the companionship void but a cat."

"You don't like cats?" Vic kicked his foot back.

"Cats are alright, but I'm not much of a pet person. I like Uncle Sirius' dog well enough, but pets seem like a lot of work for a lot of feedback that doesn't appeal to me. I don't find joy in sitting with a dog or a cat. And I don't really like watching anything you'd keep in an atrium."

"Do you want kids then? Or are they like pets?"

"Are you kidding me?" Ted laughed. "Having kids is completely different than having pets. Kids are little humans that you get to help grow and here's the best part, kids ultimately can handle their bowel movements without any help from me."

Vic's laughter came bursting out of her and Ted couldn't help but admire the way she looked so happy.

"But, yeah, I'm looking forward to being a dad." He rubbed the back of his neck to keep his hand from reaching across the table for her.

Vic's smile went just a touch sad and Ted frowned.

"Hey, you alright?"

She sighed, "Yeah, just wish more blokes were like you."

Ted's heart flipped in his chest.

"But that's neither here nor there," Vic pulled her notepad to her. "Let's get down to business."

Ted blinked, "Er, right."

Ted moved to retrieve his notebook and felt a small smile tug at his lips. Because Vic said she wished more guys were like him, and Ted hoped the underlying message was she wished Sean were like him. Or maybe that he was in Sean's place.

He was so screwed.

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