#soooo let's just pretend it's pre-jaw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rainydaydream-gal18 · 4 years

Text

Echo x Reader: Sightseeing

(Author’s note: I’m soooo sorry, I’ve been neglecting my Hobbit fanfiction duties, but I have Star Wars on the brain! I don’t know, I’ve been drawn back in. Here is a little something for you Echo fangirls. He’s one of my faaaves! This is pre-citadel, just so you know...)

“Echo!”

The trooper glanced up from his datapad at the sound of his brother calling his name. Fives was standing there, shaking his head in what looked like disappointment with arms folded across his armored chest.

“What?” Echo shrugged his shoulders.

“We’re in the middle of this beautiful city, and you’ve got your nose in a datapad!” He gestured to their surroundings. It was a warm night. The duracrete was damp from a brief rainfall not too long before, and neon light signs reflected in the puddles. Citizens walked back and forth, some talking on comms and others waiting in lines to try the exotic street foods that filled the air with scents that would make anyone’s mouth water. It was beautiful now that Echo got a good look, but there were other things on his mind.

“I’m reading the latest report issued about Geonosis,” he defended. “Apparently some Geonosian worm infected-”

“Brother, no.”

“But-”

“No, no.” Fives shook his head again, reaching over to snatch the datapad from his best friend’s hand. “You need to take some time and enjoy the sights. There will be plenty of time to catch up on the latest reports on our way back.”

“I suppose,” he conceded, still not completely convinced.

“Like here,” Fives put an arm around his shoulder, drawing him closer to a cart where street food was being sold. “Do you think we could enjoy such things on the cruiser?”

Echo stared at the breaded aquatic creature on a stick, his empty stomach rumbling. He remembered that he hadn’t eaten yet that evening. “That is an excellent point.”

“I’m starving. Let’s try something, eh?”

Echo nodded, and he and Fives took their place in line. Fives was looking at the menu posted on the front of the rickety old cart, and Echo took the time to observe his surroundings again. There were some things he hadn’t noticed before- like how if he listened closely enough, he could hear a lively tune playing over the chatter of citizens. It was a diverse crowd with droids and people. His casual scan was halted when he spotted a beautiful pair of eyes.

They only caught his gaze for a moment as she walked by, but Echo found himself following the form that they belonged to. She was absolutely lovely, he admitted to himself in the privacy of his own mind. Sure, in his travels he had seen a few that he found attractive, but none that had this effect on him. It felt like his insides were coming apart, and he wondered if he should approach her. What would he even say?

A shadow moved along the wall of the buildings behind the woman. The shadow moved steadily, and Echo quickly realized that it was following the owner of those eyes he so admired, who seemed oblivious to the situation.

His jaw tightened as he tracked the figure, fists clenched. He quickly made his way through the crowded sidewalk until he neared the shadow’s target.

- - - -

You had noticed the individual dressed in a trench coat with the collar turned up walking at a steady pace behind you. He was distant, but close enough to raise alarm in your mind. He had followed you down every turn. Perhaps you were being paranoid, but perhaps not. Not wanting to take any chances, you considered a few ideas to lose the guy. As you passed a group of street vendors, you took note of a few troopers in uniform. By the looks of it, they were ARC troopers. One happened to look over at you and made eye contact briefly. Maybe he saw the situation you were in because he kept staring even after you had broken the mutual gaze. You decided to go a little farther and then circling around to approach the troopers. If this individual was really following you, hopefully they’d get the idea and leave if you were in the company of soldiers.

A line of citizens cut in front of you, and someone had shoved you off to the side.

“Ouch,” you complained, though you realized the incident was the least of your problems. The two troopers in your line of sight were nowhere to be found, and the figure behind was gaining on you.

Suddenly, a gloved hand just barely rested on your elbow, prompting you to move forward. “Keep walking.”

You glanced up to see the ARC trooper you’d made eye contact with before. He had kept the standard trooper haircut and had no visible tattoos or scars on his face, only a handprint painted on his armor to distinguish him from others.

“I don’t mean to alarm you,” he spoke in a low voice, “but there’s someone following you.”

“I know,” you replied. “I haven’t been able to shake him. I was actually heading back around to find you and the other ARC trooper, hoping you’d scare him off.” You pretended to be familiar with the trooper, slipping your arm around his waist and smiling.

“Well, you found me.” He steered you back out of the crowd toward the nearest building. The individual in the trench coat had slowed down at this point, and you saw a pair of eyes reflecting light in your direction. The trooper put his arm around you, drawing you closer to his armored chest, and he blatantly stared down the stranger until they flinched and hurried away.

You exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble, really.” He caught your gaze again, looking at you with those warm brown eyes of his. He was handsome, no doubt, and the chivalry he displayed just now made him even more handsome in your eyes. “Are you okay?”

“A little spooked,” you admitted. “But I’m fine, thanks to you. My ship isn’t too far from here. I think I’ll be alright.”

He lifted a brow. “You sure? I can walk you back.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I don’t think he’ll want to follow me to where I’m headed. Trust me.”

“Okay.” He gazed at you a little longer. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, I’m ________.” You held out your hand.

He shook it. “I go by Echo.”

“Echo?”

“It’s a long story.” A look of embarrassment crossed his features. “I used to reiterate orders in the training simulations, and my teammates would call me ‘Echo’ out of annoyance.”

“Really? That’s an interesting way to get a name. I like it.”

A mutual silence settled between you two. Echo stole a glance at a nearby vendor and gestured toward it with a gloved hand. “Hungry?”

“Yeah, I could eat,” you decided. Whatever it was that they were selling at the cart was foreign to you, but looked and smelled good. Fortunately, the line was short. You and Echo only had to wait a few minutes before stepping up to place the order. You fished out your wallet, but Echo gently tapped your hand.

“Allow me.”

“But you just rescued me. I couldn’t ask you to pay.”

“You’re not asking. I’m insisting,” he said with a smile. He handed a few credits to the vendor and accepted the food, motioning for you to follow him away from the cart so the next person could order. You took a bite of your portion and smiled.

“This is really good! Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He bit into his serving as well. “Wow, that is good.” As the two of you finished your snack, Echo inquired to know more about you. “So, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m a mechanic.”

“Yeah? What kind?”

“A good one,” you replied with a cheeky look.

“I suppose I walked right into that one, but seriously, what sort of things do you work on?”

“Mostly ships. I like making a difference, getting to travel, and meeting new people.” You gave his armored shoulder a playful nudge.

“Sounds like you’re doing what you love.”

“You could say that.”

Another mutual silence ensued, but it made neither of you uncomfortable. For just a few more minutes, you enjoyed the other’s company and the newfound friendship. The moment was interrupted when the other ARC trooper you’d seen standing next to Echo before approached.

“There you are, Echo!” he exclaimed. “I waited in line, but by the time it was my turn, you were gone.”

“Sorry,” Echo looked bashful. “Fives, this is _________. We ran into each other and got talking. _________, this is Fives.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Fives.”

“Right back at you.”

You glanced at the chrono on your wrist. “Oh, I need to get back to my ship.” In a moment of bravery, you leaned in to press a kiss to the side of Echo’s face, though with you having to lean around his ARC trooper armor, it ended up closer to his jaw than cheek. “Thank you, Echo, for looking out for me.”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a few seconds he struggled to come up with a reply. Finally, he just uttered, “anytime.”

You smiled. Echo was strong and brave, and yet so sweet and, well, darling. With a farewell to him and Fives, you headed back to the ship that you were expected at in only a few minutes for the start of your shift.

“Wait,” Echo hurried after you. “Can I comm you?”

You felt warmth in your face. “I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around.”

And then you turned and left.

- - - -

“So what’s all this, huh?” Fives gave Echo a playful punch to the shoulder plate. “I turn around for two seconds, and I find you with a girl. An actual girl.”

“She needed help- that’s all. Someone was following her, and I couldn’t let anything bad happen.”

Fives narrowed his eyes slowly. “Ohhh, I see how it is... You like her.”

“What? How did you gather that from me helping a random citizen?”

“Can’t say I blame you. She’s cute, that’s for sure.”

“Come on,” Echo rolled his eyes. “Are you even listening to me?”

“I’m listening, and all I’m hearing is that you totally have a thing for _______.”

Echo cleared his throat, hoping he’d drop the topic because even though Echo tried to deny it, Fives was spot-on with his analysis. It comes with the territory of spending your whole life with your teammate. They know you pretty well. “Either way, I doubt I’ll ever see her again. We ship back out tomorrow anyway.”

Fives patted his back. “You never know, brother, you never know...”

The entire evening out, Echo tried very hard to enjoy himself. He caught himself searching the crowd for that face again everywhere he and Fives went. Fives even suggested they circle back to where he met her again, just in case she came back looking for him too. She was nowhere to be found. When both troopers had enough exploring, the two headed back to the Republic ship.

After getting through security, they went toward the trooper quarters. They chatted idly about the interesting things they saw in the city and the foods they tried.

Echo was nearly floored when he caught a glimpse of that familiar pair of eyes.

She was wearing a jumpsuit typical of mechanics in the GAR, and she was talking to a coworker, most likely an electrician, in the hall while he worked on a light fixture. She looked up and met Echo’s gaze, and she smiled brightly at him. Without thinking, Echo walked right up to her.

“Wait, you work here? On this ship?” he asked.

She stifled a chuckle. “Yeah, you didn’t know?”

“I’ve seen mechanics around all the time in the hangar.” He raised his brows incredulously. “I would’ve definitely remembered you.”

“That was actually pretty smooth,” Fives muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Echo to hear.

“I’m new,” ________ admitted. “Well, new to this ship. I used to work with the 212th, but seeing as General Skywalker is the one with the highest destroyed vehicle count, they transferred some of us over.”

Fives burst out laughing. “That sounds like the General.”

“Well then, I’m glad to be seeing more of you, _________,” Echo said. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Alright,” she nodded.

“Alright,” he echoed, gazing back. This time, the silence that followed was rather awkward as he didn’t budge or break the stare.

Fives’ eyes shifted between the two before he broke the awkward silence. “Uh, it was nice to see you again, _________. We’ll be heading out now. Have a good night!” He grabbed Echo by the shoulders and gently pushed him in the other direction. Echo regained his senses and kept walking, occasionally sneaking a glance over his shoulder.

“We’ve got to work on your flirting skills,” Fives groaned. “That last bit was just painful to watch.”

“I’ll be seeing her,” Echo said with a smile on his face. “I guess that means I’ll have plenty of practice.”

#Clone Wars #star wars: the clone wars #Clone wars imagine #clone wars reader insert #echo x reader #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #clone wars echo #clone wars fives #Reader insert #x reader #the clone war #sw:tcw #tcw #clone wars fanfiction

142 notes · View notes

baseballbitch116 · 4 years

Text

Something New part 2

A/N: Surprise!! It’s been so long since I wrote the first part but it got nearly 1,000 notes and so many people asked for a second part soooo here it is!! I’ve actually been trying to write this for a while but I was having writer’s block on how to follow up the first part. Hope you like! ♥

Pairing: Slow-burn Steve Rogers x reader

Prompt: Some of the Avengers go to a club after Tony’s party and have a little fun ;)

Word Count: 3184

Warnings: Erotic dancing/atmosphere, suggestiveness, alcohol consumption

First part

Masterlist | Fandoms | Request | Support My Blog | Coming Soon

After you went to your room, you had gone to sleep; however, that was short lived - due to eager/tipsy Wanda and Natasha coming barging into your room with whiskey and tequila shots, insisting that you get up and join them for a girls night. So you got dressed all over again, given it was only 11pm, and did a little pre-gaming as you got ready together. You slipped into a simple knee-length black dress, too tired and tipsy to care much about how you looked. The three of you laughed and joked around as if you had been friends your whole lives - even Nat- and it felt great.

And just your luck, the three of you ran into a few of the men on your way out of the complex. “Where are you ladies off to?” Tony asks, the laughter dying down as you realize you have been “caught.”

Wanda giggles and says “To the club down the street,” to which you and Nat simultaneously smack her on each of her arms. “Ow! Oops! We’re not going anywhere!” She exclaims, giggling like a child. Clearly she isn’t the greatest at holding her liquor, given her young age, despite that she is Russian.

Steve gives you a look - the same one he gives when people cuss around him. “I thought you were going to bed?” He questions, crossing his arms, wondering why you would say that if you were just going to go out.

“I was! They woke me up and wouldn’t leave me be!” You exclaim, giggling in your tipsy state.

Bucky and Steve exchange a look, and Tony smirks, telling JARVIS to do a few things as he grabs his coat. “Oh no no no, you aren’t coming. Girls night.” Natasha argues, but Tony interrupts her when he raises his hand.

“Soldiers - you coming? Someone has to drive you girls home.” He argues, directing the last part toward you girls. You can’t help but agree - if they came along, then you could get super drunk. Steve sighs and grabs his black leather jacket, and you smile, patting him on the arm as you pass him. “It’ll be fun!” You insist, heading off toward the elevator ahead of everyone else, Steve watching you as you walk away.

The walk to the club was short, given that it was only a block away. The place wasn’t overly-packed, but it certainly wasn’t empty either. Tony was quick to get you guys access to the VIP area and order a bottle of the club’s finest. Meanwhile, you drug Wanda out onto the dance-floor. You wanted to dance with Steve, but you knew that the chances of that were slim. He didn’t seem the club type - you were surprised he came at all.

Wanda danced beside you as Boom Clap by Charli XCX blared throughout the club, the vibration of the bass echoing throughout your body. You drag your fingers through your long hair as you sway your hips to the music, the fuzziness in your head adding to the euphoric atmosphere. Wanda’s a little shy about dancing with you in the beginning, until Natasha joins the two of you with a round of shots.

Two shots of tequila later and Wanda was grinding in between yourself and Natasha shamelessly. You were living it up on the dance-floor, losing yourself more and more with every song. You made sure to stay within viewing distance of the men sitting in the VIP section, knowing damn well that they were watching. You couldn’t help yourself as the girls danced with you - you were growing very turned on. You trailed your hands down Wanda’s waist as she danced with her back to you, her own hands around Nat’s neck. She pressed her ass back into you as the beat dropped in E.T by Katy Perry, leaning her head back against your shoulder as she did so.

Your eyes wander away from Nat’s toward the direction of the men, satisfied when you spot all three watching you guys. You continue swaying your hips in tune with the beat, making eye contact with Steve as you did so. You could feel his eyes burning into you as he sat there. His legs were spread as he leaned back in the arm chair, his elbow resting on the arm and his hand under his chiseled jaw. This normally wasn’t his scene, but there was something intoxicating about the way that you were dancing with the girls - he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

Wanda went to get another drink after the song ended, leaving you with Natasha. She moved in closer and placed her hands on your hips, pulling you closer and leaning in to whisper in your ear - sending shivers down your spine. “He’s watching you,” She says as the beat to the next song starts up, lightly swaying her hips as she holds onto your’s. Ironically, the song is I Kissed A Girl by Katy Perry, making a drunken smirk crawl up your lips.

“Mm, really?” You respond, spinning around in Nat’s arms to press your back against her, her hands still grasping your hips.

“He wants you bad - he just won’t admit it.” She continues in your ear, her breath tickling your soft skin. “We should do something about that.”

“We should,” You respond over your shoulder, your face coming dangerously close to her own. She smirks down at you as she leans in slightly so that your foreheads are nearly touching. Her face is illuminated by the changing color lights in the club, but she looks sexy as she flirts with you. If you weren’t so into Steve, you may find the position more compromising for you.

Nat surprises you when she suddenly takes your hand and spins you are to face her again, trailing her hands up and down your body as she dances with you. She has you guys turned so that you are more visible to the guys, and you can clearly see them watching you guys still. You giggle as you spot Wanda trying to convince Bucky to come dance, but he seems pretty resistant. Nat turns around and bends over in front of you, playfully twerking against you. You start laughing hysterically in your drunken state and slap her ass lightly, pretending to throw money on her.

Steve watches intently as you dance with Natasha, enjoying the scene much more than he was willing to admit. It was very sexy, no one could deny it - but he also found himself growing increasingly jealous. No, this wasn’t his scene at all - but if anyone was going to dance with you like that, he wanted it to be himself. He tried hard to contain his thoughts, not willing to let himself lose control. He could feel himself growing more turned on as he watched you guys, but he desperately fought off letting it show.

You are startled when you feel someone lean into you from behind but don’t bother turning around, figuring it was Wanda returning. That was - until you felt an unmistakable bulge pressing into your ass. You look over your shoulder and are met by some random guy with a crappy haircut smirking at you. You give Nat a tap on the arm and she stands up, turning to face you, pulling you into her body enough to be out of the arms of the stranger. “Oh c’mon, you aren’t gonna share?” He complains, giving a tug at your arm.

Steve immediately noticed the man come up behind you as you danced with Nat and tensed up when he saw him lean into you. He couldn’t help but lean forward in his seat, inwardly debating his next action. He certainly didn’t want some random guy grinding on you, but was it his place to step in? He glanced over at Tony, who was downing his glass of bourbon, removing his over-priced black jacket that he tosses carelessly over his seat - leaving him in his blue button-down shirt. “Joining me, boys?” He asks before making his way onto the dance-floor toward you girls, Wanda trailing close behind him.

You cheer when you spot Tony heading over to you and Nat, ignoring the man still attempting to dance with you. At this point you had lost track of your original plan to try to seduce Steve, more focused on how much fun you were having until this dude showed up uninvited. “Tonyyyyy,” You call out, grabbing hold of his hand when he got close enough and pulling him in close. He shoots a look at the guy beside you who takes it as his cue to leave. You and Wanda giggle like little girls as you watch the guy walk away in search of someone else to dance with.

The remix version of Bite by Troye Sivan starts up and Nat starts to dance with Wanda, who hands her another drink. “My hero!” You mutter up to Tony as you sway your hips to the beat, loosely hanging on his hands as you do so. Tony smirks down at you, chuckling at your drunken state as he grabs hold your waist, pulling you into him. He leans down enough that his mouth is close to your ear, the feeling of his breath against it sending shivers down your body like it had with Nat. “Surprised you’re not dancing with Steve.” Tony says, moving lightly in tune with the music, not really dancing too hardcore.

You glance over at Steve as you trail your hands up Tony’s chest, fingers grazing his partially exposed chest as you do so. “Why would I?” You respond, playing dumb. How much did he know?

“Oh please, it’s obvious.”

“Is it reallyyyy?” You slur.

“He knows it too, he’s just too old fashioned to do anything about it.” Tony responds in your ear. You spot the look on Steve’s face - although it was a little hard to make out in your drunken state and the low lighting. He looked tense - possibly jealous. You also saw Bucky leaning over and talking to him, but his eyes were locked on yours.

“If that were t-true, he wouldn’t be letting me dance w-with another man!” You holler a little louder than necessary, spinning around in Tony’s arms to face away from him, raising your hands over your head as the song came close to the end.

“Just gotta push the right buttons.” Tony mumbles against your ear, leaning down against you but not quite grinding on you. You gulp slightly, his close presence making you a bit dizzy. Of course Tony was an extremely attractive man, and if you didn’t have your eyes on Steve...

Speak of the devil, you looked up in time to spot Steve making his way across the dance floor. You can’t help but feel nervous and excited as you watch him approach, wondering what the night may have in store. “Mind if I cut in?” He asks, speaking up so that he could be heard over the loud bass starting up with the new song.

“Of course.” Tony smirks, backing off and joining Wanda and Nat.

You step closer to Steve, looking up at him through hooded lids as you begin to sway with the beat once more. “Took you long enough.” You taunt, a smirk toying with your lips. The alcohol running through your veins was making you a bit ballsy, but Steve didn’t mind.

He doesn’t respond as he moves in close to you, moving his body to the beat but not quite dancing. You trail your hands up his white button down shirt, his toned chest prominent through the thin material. You can’t help but bite your lip as you do so, stepping close enough that you were nearly chest to chest. You look up into his eyes as your hands move up his shoulders and interlock behind his neck. You can smell his cologne and feel his body heat radiating onto you, everything about this man intoxicating you.

“Enjoying yourself?” Steve asks as you move with him. The Crazy In Love remix plays in the background, slow but intense, losing yourself in the atmosphere.

“Very much,” You holler over the music, a little louder than you needed to, given the close proximity. You lock eyes with Steve and see him visibly gulp. You press your body against his and lean up slightly to be a bit closer to his face. His eyes drop to your lips and you hope and pray that he will take a hint and kiss you. You can feel his breath on your mouth as he leans in closer, just inches away. The beat in the background, the heat of the moment, the feeling on his hands on your hips - it was all too much. Steve looks between your eyes and your lips once more, the grip on your hips growing a little tighter as he got closer. You lean in just enough to brush your lips against his own ever so slightly... And then he pulls back.

You are stunned momentarily, the moment killed instantaneously. What just happened? “I don’t want this to happen while you’re drunk.” Steve says, his hands on your hips releasing. You stare up at him, contemplating what you should do now. You were too drunk to think properly and you didn’t know what to do. Should you get mad, should you cry, should you try harder? You pout at him and he chuckles, surprisingly you when he takes your hand and starts guiding you off of the dance floor. You follow him back to the VIP area, watching his hand pull you along. He releases it when you are behind the velvet ropes and you immediately go for the bottle of bourbon. Just as you go to pour a glass, Steve whisks the bottle from your hand.

You pout at him again and try to grab it back, but he holds it out of your reach. “I think you’ve had enough.” He says, placing the bottle on the table behind him.

“You’re such a-dad!” You hiccup. He shakes his head and grabs his jacket.

“You wanna stay with me tonight?” He asks. Your eyes light up, completely misunderstanding him, and you nod excitedly. He knows that you misunderstood him but at this point he just wants to get you back home and sobered up. Tonight has been nothing but a giant tease for him and as far as he was concerned - the sooner you were back in your right mind, the better. He had every intention of finishing what he started - just not until you were sober.

He takes your hand and starts guiding you out of the building, not before informing Bucky of where you guys were going. You are hit with the chilly New York air as soon as you exit the building and you inhale deeply, finally able to breathe outside of the humid atmosphere of the club. You stumble down the steps slightly but Steve’s arm catches you and you do not let go of it until you reach the bottom. He places his jacket over your bare shoulders before linking his arm with yours and guiding you back to the compound, listening to you drunkenly ramble on about how pretty the buildings looked at night.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at how cute you were, nodding every so often as you spoke. Eventually you got back up to the living quarters and Steve brought you back to his room. You were excited and tense as he led you there, and he could see it. You looked around for a moment as he entered. It was simple, but nice. You watched as Steve opened up one of his drawers and grabbed a T-shirt. He walked over and handed you the navy blue shirt, giving you a light smile as his hand brushed against yours. “Why don’t you change? I’ll get you some water.” He says before exiting the room, closing the door behind himself.

You start to undress but end up falling on the floor trying to unzip your dress. By the time Steve has returned you still have not managed to unzip your dress and are sitting on the floor struggling to grab it. With a chuckle, he places the glass of water down on his dresser and takes your hands, helping you back to your feet. “Help?” You hiccup, smiling up at him. He is resistant for a moment but decides it won’t hurt - so he brushes your hair out of the way and unzips the dress for you. He ignores his fingers brushing down your body and close to your ass, releasing as soon as the dress is unzipped and taking a step back.

Much to his shock, you slip out of the dress right in front of him without even turning away. He clears his throat and looks away as you take off your bra, watching him. You giggle at him as you toss your black bra at his feet, seeing his face turning red. “Y/N,” He starts, but you shoosh him. You pull the large T-shirt over your body and Steve returns his gaze to you - only to realize that this wasn’t a whole lot better. You looked incredible in his shirt, he was stunned. You turn around and stumble over to his bed, collapsing on top of it. He regains his composure and grabs the glass of water, approaching you at the side.

You sit up and take the glass from him, downing it quickly after realizing how thirsty you had become. “Mm,” You groan, satisfied with the refreshing liquid. Steve shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat, forcing himself not to react to your actions. “Here,” He says, grabbing the comforter and helping you underneath the sheets. You look adorable and every part of him is dying to stay with you - but he wants to be a gentleman. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” He says, preparing to walk away - but you grab his hand.

“Stay?” You ask tiredly. He gives you a look and goes to argue, but you interrupt him. “I just want to cuddle. It’s not take-ing advantage o-of me.” You say through tired yawns, releasing his hand and closing your eyes. Steve debates for a moment before giving in, deciding it wouldn’t be the worst thing he could do. He walks around to the other side and strips off his clothing, changing into sweats and a tank top before climbing in beside you. He turns off the lamp and you shift over to his side, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He looks down at you in the dark and can’t help but smile, wishing this could be an every night thing. He wished that you were not drunk, that he could do all of the things he’s been dying to. “G’night,” You mumble into his arms, your lips brushing against his bicep. Steve smiles contently and watches you as you begin to drift off to sleep - wondering what the morning would bring him...

< Previous | Next?

---

Let me know if you would like to be added to my taglist and comment if you would like a third part!

Masterlist | Fandoms | Submit A Request | Support my blog ♥

@mayakblack @dandycandy75 @bombshellbella

@mischiefmakerliesmith5 @icantstopreblogging @fangirl-juchan

@amor67figment-love @rockis4ever @classygladiatorcupcake @gaphra @psychshawnjuleshanluke @beckastark @lucyshea @yeahmarianaa @firecatcher007 @beaaatle @buriednurbckyrd @stars-shaped-clouds @whatsbetterthanfantasy @m-a-t-91 @patchwork-doll @lemonjvicey @heydisneyhiremeplease @sevenwonderslangdon @vibraniumass @erwinandmikearebaes @leclerc-stan @inlovewith3 @infinityrose338 @thorfanficwriter @lilulo-12 @cheekyredwillow @theevilchelle @ravenmoore14 @s-t-r-i-k-e-us @d-e-e-e @iminlokisarmysofi @buriednurbckyrd @logolepticphantom @souleatermia @a-kiddo-with-a-doggo @kumovibes @lokilover2000-blog @amor67figment-love @kayleighfreeman @radiant–punk @pokelover97 @grndmaitsmeanastasia @tchallasokoye @lokis-lady-death @j-brielmalfoy @strangewhovian-blog @januarycalendargirl @marvel-wives-club @katpatrova17 @jimslonglostjams @moonlightprime @franzixlovesxsomeone @thefaceofroyalty @iambetterthanbefore @drakesfiance @who-even-is-galileo @cat-of-ninetails @mariamonteon @xxashy999xx

67 notes · View notes

thelionshoarde · 6 years

Text

shance; vld6 reaction fic

@pink-contrail and anon mentioned lance calling shiro silver fox and i was just ALL OVER THAT except not REALLY because i had some feels and this got carried away and in the end I’M NOT SURE WHAT I REALLY EVEN WROTE?? AT ALL?? this is very strange but it is also for you shance fam, cause i love you. (gonna tag for a touch of ableism? boys going through tough times and dealing with it okay but not great and yelling at each other a little bit? feelings?? pre-relationship??)

you can also read this on ao3 here

“Hey,” Lance said, loitering by the door. “What are, uh... dude, what are you doing?“

Shiro pursed his lips, not bothering to look up from the clippers in his hand. His thumb was resting just below the button to turn it on, hesitant, just as it had been for the past five minutes. “Hm..”

“...Shiro? Should I --”

Shifting his hip against the edge of the sink so that it dug in, Shiro tried not to let his shoulders tense.

“-- want some help? I used to buzz my brother Marco’s hair all the time, you know. Got pretty good at it. No rough patches or weird lines or anything, I can --”

bzzzzt

Lance stopped talking, and Shiro could feel him hovering just on the precipice of the entrance way to the bathroom. He’d been doing that ever since Shiro’d woken up, really, treating him with distance and caution.

Well, except for that second time when he’d burst into tears and apologized in a high, choked voice for not hearing him, as if it was his fault that this had happened, as if it was Lance’s fault that Shiro had been dead, and as if it meant something that it had been Keith who got him back, and --

It did mean something. What Keith had done was... so much. More than Shiro had expected. More than he had dared to hope.

But it --

It wasn’t --

Huffing a frustrated breath, Shiro clicked the button again, letting silence fill the bathroom once more. It seemed suspiciously bright, suddenly, the overhead lights flaring at the corners of his eyes, like light through a prism, or water droplets. His shoulders heaved, just a little, and he leaned harder into the sink, shoulder twitching.

Why did everything feel like such a mess? So much confusion, so much uncertainty? What was Shiro supposed to think? How was he meant to react? Keith looking at him with those bright eyes. Pidge barely looking at him at all. Allura heartbroken and Lance wandering about like he’d forgotten his place in the world, too quiet and shuttered, it --

It sucked. A part of Shiro just wished he could go to sleep and not wake up until the universe started making sense again.

“You know...” Lance said, voice careful but still managing to startle Shiro. He had gotten caught up in his thoughts again, swirling and swirling, so fast and frantic. God, he was so tired. Rest, Allura had said, and he had so why didn’t it feel like enough? Why --

Frustrated, Shiro blurted out, “Just -- out with it, Lance. I’m not going to break if you speak your mind, okay? Just because I died the once doesn’t mean I’m going to drop dead at the first --”

“Whoa,” cut in Lance, voice sharp. “Whoa, whoa! What are you talking about?!”

Shiro dropped the clippers into the sink with a clatter; turned around and leaned against the sink so he could give Lance a strained smile. He half-hid his face beneath his hand, rubbing wearily at his forehead, knowing that his expression would still come off as pinched.

“Nothing,” he said. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Unconvinced, Lance leaned back dangerously far on his heels, eyes narrowed. “Sure,” he said, mouth twisted in suspicion. “Sure, yeah, definitely nothing. Should I -- Should I get Keith?”

Should I should I should I.

“I dunno,” Shiro drawled, sagging back in sudden exhaustion. “Should you? Seems to me like you’re awfully unsure of yourself these days, Lance. Not exactly fitting for the Red Paladin, don’t you think?”

This time, Lance rocked forward onto his toes, eyes narrowed to near slits, a slight flush of annoyance touching his face. It almost made Shiro smile.

“Fine. You wanna know what I think? I think you’re having a pity party in your bathroom, Shiro. Party of one, and that’s not cool. If you want to hack off all your hair, go for it. Just do it! Be bald! Bald and beautiful, baby, I’m sure you could pull it off --”

Damn, Shiro thought, blinking hard; almost forgot what a mouth he has on him.

“-- so just stop wallowing already, and let us help you. It’s not like it was easy for us, either, all right? Like, not easy AT ALL, DUDE. You don’t think we’re all reeling, here? You think you’re the only one who died, Shiro? Nope! Spoiler alert! That select group also includes me, in case you were wondering! And ohhh no, poor Shiro, his handsome boyfriend goes above and beyond to save him --”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Shiro whispered, heart pounding.

“-- who cares,” Lance exploded, arms waving wildly. His face was flushed bright red, eyes gleaming. “It doesn’t -- that’s fine. That’s the point, Shiro. All of this -- everything -- it’s going to be fine. But we all need some time to not be fine, okay? So stop acting like we’re all, I dunno, crazy for dealing with it in our own ways, yeah? Or like we’re offending you for trying to give you the space and respect you deserve, you --”

“Lance,” Shiro said, helplessly, fingers curled so tight around the lip of the sink his knuckles ached.

“-- you idiot,” Lance finished, eyes shimmering with tears.

“Uhm,” tried Shiro. “Do you want to, ah, sit down? Take a deep breath, maybe?”

“Shut your face,” Lance groaned, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes with a showy grimace. “Ugh, this is -- exhausting.”

A corner of Shiro’s lip quirked; his heart was still racing, unsettled. “...Yeah. It really is.”

“I hate emotions. I’m returning mine. Do not want. Send to good home. Or bad, I don’t care, I just don’t want them anymore. First my one crush crushes on someone else and then gets betrayed, and I’m not -- I’m not going to try anything, okay? I’m not gonna be that guy, but shit. How am I supposed to feel, exactly? And then my other stupid crush gets a fairy-tale ending, and it’s just -- I’m done. I’m soooo done. I’m going to become a nun as soon as we get to Earth, Shiro, I swear it.”

...Shiro’s mouth felt dry. He wasn’t certain he could breathe.

Delicately, he asked, “Your...other stupid crush?”

Lance went still as the grave.

“Uhm. Pretend I didn’t say that.”

Shiro thought about pushing. He really, really did, but... the space and respect you deserve. Right. He could do that too, even when it felt like he was drowning, even though everything seemed too much, and distant, and strange. Even being back in his body was weird -- the sound of his heartbeat -- the way his teeth clacked together.

“I missed this,” he said instead, without meaning to.

Confused, Lance crossed his arms, leaning against the doorjamb once more. He still looked nettled though, ready to go off again. “What?”

“Your -- noise.”

Incredulous, Lance’s eyebrows rose, mouth dropping open in offense.

Oh, shit. Abort, Shirogane, abort!

“That came out wrong,” he rushed to explain, throwing up a hand -- whoops, wrong one. Just his right shoulder twitched, and Shiro jerked his head down to glare at it, annoyed. At least it made Lance pause, long enough for Shiro to say, sheepishly, “It was... real quiet, with Black. I could... everything she saw, I saw. But it... it wasn’t nearly enough. And you -- you’re warm, Lance. Loud, and bright, and I -- I remember thinking when the silence got to be too... too much, that I really missed you going off on one of your diatribes.”

“Huh,” said Lance.

Shiro shrugged, like he was trying to roll the awkwardness off him.

“I don’t really know what I want,” he admitted, feeling -- embarrassed, wrong, ashamed. “I feel like I should. I should. But I just -- I’ve been gone so long. And I had so much time to think that I’m not sure I know what to think anymore, you know? You’re all so... You’ve been living your lives, but I just... stopped.”

Lance flapped his hand at him dismissively. “Who says you have to? Huh? Who says any of us need to know what we want? Who says it can’t change, Shiro? That we can’t change our minds over and over again?”

“I...”

“Who.”

“No one,” Shiro yelped, “Fine. No one! It -- ugh! Lance, I don’t. I don’t want to do this right now, I just want --”

“To shave off all of your hair?”

Shiro grimaced. He’d almost forgotten about the reason he was in the bathroom to begin with. His hand was shaking when he brought it back to his forehead, rubbing hard at the skin beneath his bangs. “I just... it reminds me of all that I’ve lost.”

Snorting, Lance said dryly, “And a shiny bald head won’t? Just leave it, Shiro. Let it settle. Give it time.” Shiro rolled his eyes to the ceiling, because that hadn’t been subtle at all, ha. “It’s okay to start again. We’re not going anywhere. You’ve got time, buddy.”

“...it makes me look old,” Shiro admitted, nearly mumbling.

“Ha!”

Narrowing his eyes, Shiro twisted his mouth so that he wouldn’t accidentally smile. Lance was grinning at him, mood as mercurial as ever. Steadier, yes, more prone to startling insight, but still as willing to rise to a challenge or give in to humor as he had been, before.

Shiro wished he knew what all he had missed; he wanted the pieces of the puzzle, to see how and where he fit into all of this.

He wanted --

“What?” he forced himself to ask, though his tongue felt clumsy and strange. “You disagree?”

Almost gently, Lance teased, “Shiro, you’re a Silver Fox if there ever was one.”

...Huh.

“You just like white hair,” Shiro said on autopilot, not even thinking about what Lance had said earlier about --

“Yeah, well,” Lance muttered, scratching beneath his jaw and side-eying the medicine cabinet with intense interest, “hair isn’t really what makes someone attractive, you know.”

-- crushes.

As in plural.

“Right,” Shiro coughed, and what the hell, why was there heat rising in his face?

“Give it a week,” said Lance, eyes flickering back to him and then away again. “A week, okay? And if you still want to buzz it all off let me know. I’ll do it for you, okay?”

“...Okay,” Shiro allowed.

Lance nodded; one short, sharp jerk of his chin, and then he was grinning brightly -- Shiro couldn’t tell if it was fake or real or what, just that it was near blinding -- and started to walk himself lazily backwards, toward the door. “Well, then, my duty is done. I’m just gonna, go -- leave you to it, and --”

“Lance,” Shiro asked, lurching forward fast to catch him before he hit the door. “Why did you come here? I mean -- did you need anything?”

For a moment, Lance just looked at him, something in his gaze that Shiro couldn’t place. Something serious about the set of his mouth that made his heart beat unsteadily again. Uncomfortable, Shiro wanted to look away, but --

Somehow, he didn’t quite dare.

“No,” Lance said, simple and easy, “Just checking in.”

Weird, how his stomach felt all wobbly and strange. “Thanks,” he said, and had to lick his lips; they felt painfully dry. “Do you -- later, will you come back? Can I ask you... questions? About...”

Careful, Lance said, “Keith would --”

“Keith wasn’t here,” Shiro said, voice a little too loud. He cleared his throat, and said more quietly. “He wasn’t... here, with you guys. With me. And we’ve... we’ve already talked. I -- like I said, Lance. I missed your noise. I want to talk to you.”

He tried to grin a little, knowing it was crooked, but still hoping it would be enough to convince him. By the way Lance only looked more skeptical, Shiro didn’t think it worked, but --

“Sure,” Lance said. “That’s. Uh, fine. I’ll be by later, yeah? After dinner?”

Shiro nodded eagerly, and then said, dumbly, “Sure! I mean, yes, please, I’d... I’d like that.”

Thankfully, that was enough. Lance laughed a little, shaking his head, but shot off a little casual salute and spun on his heel, leaving with a lazy, rolling stride that Shiro found... a little distracting.

Maybe.

Everything was so confusing. Nothing was what he remembered. And it just -- he didn’t know how to deal with it, he didn’t, what was he meant to do with any of this, he just --

Spinning on his heel, Shiro stared at himself in the mirror, gaze defiant.

God, even his eyebrows had gone white.

Just give it time, he thought, trying hard. A week. Give it -- a week. Then he thought, ...Silver Fox, huh? and watched a grin steal its way across his face, a little smug.

#vld6 spoilers #shance #shance fic #apparently i have A LOT TO UNLOAD #and this fic touched briefly on a fair amount of it but NOT ALL #or in depth #but i needed to write SOMETHING #pre-relationship??#voltron #vld #o shiro my shiro #my fic

411 notes · View notes

yehet-me-up · 6 years

Text

The Science of Attraction

Pairing: Hansol/Vernon x Reader (female)

Word Count: 3,669

Genre: Camp Counselor AU, Christmas fic

Rating: (F) - fluff/SFW

Summary: The 3rd Annual Jasper College Winter Camp Christmas Competition is off to a heated start. The middle schoolers you’re in charge of at your college’s winter break camp are a mess of hormones and crushes. But no one is more affected by the season than the counselors.

“You like him, don’t you?” says the sassy thirteen year old next to you for the third time.

Your jaw drops and you pause in your decorating to look at her. Bethany came to camp last year, as a twelve year old, and has only become more forthright and nosy in the year since. You snap your jaw shut and re-focus on stringing lights around the tree in the common room, ignoring her.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say in a desperate attempt to stop her loud, incessant questions.

“I think you do, and like, he’s soooo cute. And funny. And sweet. Why wouldn’t you?” she demands and you can feel her intent stare as she untangles more lights for you.

You give in and look across the large space to where to boys group is working on their tree. Although, you think with a laugh, it’s more resembling a trash heap at this point. One of their counselors, Vernon, is sitting on a couch, drinking a hot chocolate and directing his horde of middle schoolers around like basketball coach.

You allow yourself a moment of weakness, three seconds to take in the casual way his hair falls over his forehead. The twist of his lips, the amusement in his eyes, as he lords over the space, his arm slung over the back of the couch. He’s like the big brother every camper wishes they had; all of the boys at camp look up to him with awe.

His head turns, as if drawn by your attention, and you snap back to face the tree so quickly your hair whacks you in the face. A flush rises in your cheeks and you fumble with the lights, desperate to not be caught staring. After a minute you look over at Bethany, who is handing you more lights with a look that so clearly says ‘told you so’ you want to burst out laughing.

“I’ll tell Adam Rockford you like him if you say anything,” you tease and her eyes go wide. She opens her mouth to say something frantically but you cut her off. “How about we keep this between ourselves, hmm?” you offer, holding out your hand in a truce.

She closes her jaw with a hmph and sighs, holding out her hand with resignation and shakes yours. She narrows her eyes with renewed focus at the tree. “Now, let’s get a move on. We’ve got to kick their asses. You know what’s at stake.”

You laugh - she looks like a mini general, your right hand in the battle for the victory. The dorm is relatively quiet for a Saturday afternoon. When school’s in session it’s a crush of bodies coming and going. Students off to late night study sessions, returning from sports practice, holing up in their dorms with movies and friends, or off to parties large and small.

You smirk, thinking about how if this were any other Saturday night you’d be with your best friend, Claire. Either you drag her to the arcade in the basement of Miller Hall with your Astronomy major friends or she drags you to her sorority, forcing you into a dress and making you hang out at yet another get together in some fraternity’s basement.

You’re definitely the odd couple – her the fashion merchandising major with the Louis Vuitton scarves and designer handbags, you the with the beat up Converse sneakers, permanent pen marks on your hands from doodling too much, and endless supply of space pun sweatshirts. Today’s reads Why didn’t the Dog Star laugh at the joke? It was too Sirius.

But you’d bonded over stapling reams of paper in the counseling during your work study placements freshman year and had only grown closer the last two years. She was off in Paris with her family, but she was obsessively teasing you about Vernon, asking how good he was looking this year and making you want to toss your phone into the nearest body of water.

Now that it’s winter break the dorms are almost empty of students. Your school is near a wealthy community, filled with parents wanting to get out of town for the holidays; off to islands and tropical resorts. Desperate for some time away, without kids. So two years ago your school offered free room and board for two weeks over the holidays to anyone who wanted to be a counselor at the ‘camp.’

You agreed of course. Your family isn’t big on holiday celebrations, and the break gave you plenty of time to get a head start on your reading for next quarter, and to use the showers without anyone else around.

The only ones staying in the building aside from the security guard were the fifty or so students, seven counselors, and the faculty member who agreed to oversee this; Angie Callaghan, an English professor who was way more excited about the idea of a competition than any of the counselors or the students.

The first year it was simple – the team with the best floor decorations got to pick what movie everyone watched on Christmas Eve. The second year, things escalated. There was a cookie baking competition and a contest to see which team could wrap the most presents in ten minutes.

This year, Angie’s gone all out. Tree decorating. Caroling. An Elf movie quoting challenge. Her right hand woman, a senior Architecture student named Sydney, has a permanent clipboard tucked under her arm, recording points. It was cute, you thought, how into it the kids got. They threw out taunts left and right to each other, tried to sabotage the other team’s efforts.

And this year you’d heard that the teams had made a side bet under the table. The losing group has to run outside barefoot on New Year’s Eve in only their pajamas. Hence, Bethany’s steely focus as she critiques your light placement. A squad of pre-teen girls swarm around you, laying out ornaments and discussing strategy with an intensity usually reserved for disarming bombs.

A loud laugh comes from the other side of the room and your attention is once again drawn to Vernon. He’s bent over laughing at a boy who’s making a very inappropriate gesture with two ornaments. His eyes crinkle in the corners and you feel out of breath all of a sudden, struck again by how good looking he is, how magnetic his energy is.

When he showed up to the meeting for counselors freshman year with you, you were shocked. Two years ago he was the stereotypical frat guy. Black baseball cap on backwards, looking for everything in the world like he was trying to act as if he was too cool to be there.

But over those first two weeks you saw the crack in his mask. The genuine smile that came to his face when he watched Blake Anderson get up his nerves and talk to his crush. How he stayed up late at night cleaning up the dishes and cups from the common room.

The way he swelled with pride when several of the students asked him what he wanted to major in over breakfast one day. He rambled on about business and majoring in something practical for a minute before he’d stopped short. Realized who he was talking to, realized he didn’t have to pretend to give a crap about ‘practical careers.’

He promptly started talking at the speed of light about his passion for video games and his desire to code the next Halo or Call of Duty. You were at the next table, grinning into your orange juice as the façade of the ‘too cool’ boy melted away to reveal someone who was just as big of a nerd as you were.

The next year was even worse for you and the crush you were so intent on denying. You found him in the common room one night, consoling Bethany while she cried about how her parents had gone on vacation without her. And how she didn’t think they cared about her. He’d taken a deep breath, looked at her with her head in her hands, tears streaming down her cheek, looking like he wanted to cry himself at her distress. He’d turned and seen you in the doorway.

You motioned to her to ask if he needed help and he happily scooted over to let you join them. The three of you had stayed up half the night, listening to her talk, offering words of comfort, stories, laughter and jokes to make her feel better. After she went to bed the two of you had sat there in a bubble of silence, regarding one another as if you’d each seen a new side of the other that you hadn’t noticed before.

You didn’t run into each other too much on campus, large that it was. Your departments, astronomy and computer science were only vaguely in the same sphere. But with your best friend’s involvement in the Greek life on campus, you saw him every now and again at parties. You gave each other friendly waves, nods of acknowledgement, as you passed in hallways, coming out of classrooms, in various living room parties.

But now here you both are, yet again. Together in this in-between place, once more. Halfway between fall and winter quarters. Halfway between real life and this magical, dreamy holiday place. It’s getting harder and harder to stop yourself from wanting him.

He’s never said anything about it, but you’ve felt his eyes on you. Seen the way that his attention lingers on you in counselor meetings. Noticed that he always tries to stand next to you in line for breakfast, giving you a wry smile when inevitably some hyper twelve year old cuts between.

For someone who belongs to the largest fraternity on campus, he’s much more subtle than you would have expected. Wise beyond his years. Not that it doesn’t frustrate you to no end that he’s never made a move, but you can appreciate those qualities about him – his patience, the way his keen eyes seem to take in every detail of a person. The knowing smile he’d given you two days ago the night before camp began when you walked into the dorm together.

If the Christmas Competition is for the students, the unspoken challenge between you and Vernon is a game just for the two of you. Neither of you acknowledging this… thing between the two of you for the last few years. But this year feels different, the normal holiday magic feels charged with electricity.

Last night, the first of camp, everyone had participated in the annual decorating of the dorm floor you were all staying on. Being the tallest of the group, he was chosen to hang the ceremonial mistletoe. You were pouring apple cider for everyone in the kitchen, but you’d come out just in time for him to step off the ladder. His eyes had caught yours, looking back between the mistletoe and you before giving you a knowing grin and walking off to put the ladder away.

Frozen to the spot, you’d looked after him with a mix of longing and frustration, thinking he’ll be the death of you. Now he’s sitting on the couch with his legs wide, an easy grin on his face, and you can’t decide if you want to kiss him or dump water on him. A mix of both, if you’re honest.

Finally finished with the lights, you move onto the ornaments, staunchly ignoring the way that you can feel his eyes on you as you stretch up to reach the top branches. Your team finishes first, of course. You pack up the supplies and head off to the store room with a smug look at him, giving the boy’s disaster of a tree a raise of your brow.

The dorm being used for storage is a dangerous mix of boxes, packages, and wrapping paper. You do your best to organize the chaos for a few minutes, but suddenly you feel a presence behind you. Turning, you see Vernon in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms folded.

“Can I help you?” you ask, feigning ignorance that there’s anything in the air between you two.

“Would you like a hand?” he offers innocently, motioning to the leaning tower of bags and boxes.

“Oh, fine,” you huff out, edgy at the thought of being with him in such an enclosed space.

He gives you a grin that nearly stops your heart before dramatically rolling up the sleeves of his sweater and diving in.

“So, how were your fall classes?” he asks as he tries to balance an armload of wrapping paper.

“Fantastic,” you start, intending to give a one-word answer, but your excitement keeps you talking. “I’m finally in the advanced courses so we’re actually getting to work on real projects. We’re helping out the local lab with charting the beginnings of a comprehensive Oort cloud diagram,” you say, your voice raising several octaves in your excitement.

When you look over at him he’s watching you with a soft smile, paused in his movements. You impulsively bring your hand to your face, worried that there’s something wrong. “What is it?” you ask, and he blinks and shakes his head.

“Nothing. It’s just - you’re so cute when you talk science,” he says and turns to set down the paper on the desk, completely missing the way your jaw drops.

Without a coherent response to that you busy yourself with organizing the boxes of granola bars on the dresser. “What about you, I think I heard you got an internship at Bethesda?” you ask, trying to keep your curiosity to a normal level.

He turns around, eyes wide and excited. “Yes, it’s been incredible. The new RPG they’re designing – well, I cant give you any details, but it’s going to be huge. I can’t believe they accepted me,” he says and rubs his hand on his neck in a nervous gesture.

“I’m not surprised,” you start. “Jeff Calkins in my advanced database management course says you’re wildly talented. A direct quote.”

He looks stunned for a moment, then his lips pull back into a proud grin, making him too like a little boy who just won a first prize. You spend the next half an hour discussing your majors, your internships, both reveling in the fact that someone in your life understands your obsessions and passions.

His hands make quick work of the mess, his body coming into your orbit as you move around each other; bouncing around each other like atoms in the small dorm room. The connection you feel to him only escalates as you watch his mouth form words with care, every syllable sincere and passionate.

Your gaze lingers too long on him, unable to tear yourself away. The curiosity that’s been building in you for the last two years seems to simmer to the surface on this night, in this room. Your hands fumble with an extra string of lights as the fantasies you’ve had come rushing through your mind.

His lips on yours, his hands on your hips, pressing you against the closet door of your dorm.

His hand holding yours at parties, the sun you orbit around, no longer adrift on your own.

His front pressed to your back, his hands next to yours as you play Space Invaders at the arcade.

Someone who can understand the need you have to make order of the universe, to create art out of data and numbers. Someone who exists between worlds, between cliques, with you.

“Y/N?” he asks from behind you, startling you from your thoughts.

You turn around to find him watching you, hands in his pockets, hip resting against the desk. “Sorry, I spaced out for a sec, what did you say?” you ask in a rush, your eyes unable to stop from wandering to his lips.

His own gaze is distracted, taking in your flushed cheeks, the way you hold the string of lights as though it’s the only thing grounding you to reality. He leans off the desk, walking a step closer to you.

“I asked if you were seeing anyone,” he says in a low voice, laced with hope. His warm eyes find yours, taking a deep breath in just as you feel all the air leave your lungs.

Your brow furrows, your brain seemingly unable to form these words into a concept you can understand. You tell yourself you’re hallucinating, suddenly worried that your logical, fact based mind has slipped into insanity and started merging your dreams with reality.

“Huh?” is all you can say, your shoulders slumping, lips pouting in confusion.

He laughs, delighted by your disbelief. Closing the distance between you in two strides, his hands pull the string of lights from you and set them on the bed. Gently he steps up to you, sliding his fingers between your own and staring down at where your hands have become interlocked.

“Are you seeing anyone? I’ve always felt like we’d be good together. We somehow kept missing each other, passing each other. But I came to camp this year determined to find out if you want me too,” he says, slow and steady, as if knowing how surprising this must be for you. This sudden declaration of feeling.

“I just – no? I’m not seeing anyone,” you manage, your sanity returning. “Wait. You and me? Really?” you ask, wanting to reaffirm that these are actual, real words he said. That he means what you think he does.

He nods, his eyes alight with laugher. “Yes, Y/N. You. Me. Together,” he says like he would explain to a child and you purse your lips at him.

“You know how I feel about you,” you say plainly, wondering if he could somehow have missed the way you’ve been drawn to him these past two years.

“I have no idea,” he says with a grin. “Why don’t you tell me about it.”

You let out a laugh, lips twisting into a wry smile. “Well, first there’s the science thing. God, I love when you talk nerdy to me, too-” you start. Your words trail off on a sigh as he bends forward to place a chaste kiss to your cheek. A noise leaves you as his lips move lower, trailing down your neck, something between a whine and a moan.

“No, no, keep going, I’m enjoying this,” he says, teasing, his hot breath brushing your ear. His lips find the sensitive skin of your neck and you let out a surprised sound. You smother it with your hand, not wanting to draw anyone’s attention to the room.

Your eyes drift close as he continues to press warm, open-mouthed kisses there. You lick your lips and do your best to continue. “And you are so good with the campers, they love you. You show them that it’s okay to belong to lots of different groups, to be many different things at once.”

Finally he pulls back, the lightness in his eyes turning into something deeper. “I want to kiss you. So tell me right now if you don’t like me,” he laughs, releasing your hands and bringing his up to hold your face.

“I like you,” you say in a rush. A second later he bends down to press his lips against yours, the moment stretching out as you try to wrap your mind around the fact that he’s actually here, in front of you, wanting you too.

You bring your hands to his waist, folding yourself into his warmth as you remove any remaining space between your bodies. He moves against you, slanting his lips against yours and capturing them fully. You sigh against him, disbelief turning to passion as you catch up and pull back, needing to look him in the eye.

“So, wait. You like me too?” you ask with a grin.

He laughs quietly, brushing your hair behind your ear with one hand. He nods, looking down at you with a cute smile.

“Tell me all about it,” you say in a light voice, leaning over to press a kiss to his jaw, making him swallow dramatically.

“Okay, let’s start with the fact that you have the current high score on Space Invaders, because that is incredibly hot…” he starts and you smile against his skin.

You emerge back into the main common room together, much later that night - hair ruffled, lips red and swollen, hands clasped together. The space is blissfully absent of middle schoolers or any other adults. The two trees stand at opposite ends, direct contrasts in skill level and aesthetic appeal. You stare at the mess that is the boys tree and smother a giddy laugh that he immediately notices.

“Don’t say it,” he groans, his hands tickling your waist until you laugh and have to slap his hands away.

“But-” your start, holding your hand out indignantly to the monstrosity in the corner.

“I swear I will break up with you if you say it,” he says, a lopsided grin coming to his mouth.

“Okay, fine,” your say with a huff, dropping your hand. A beat later, his words hit you. “Wait a minute… break up with me? Are we together now?” you ask, a wave of hope rising in you.

“It took me two years to catch you. I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon,” he says warmly, leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Okay, but that really is the saddest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen,” you laugh when he pulls back.

“Oh boy, you’ve insulted Clarence. You’re going to get it now, babe,” he says with a devilish smile, grabbing your hand to pull you against him. His eyes glance up to the mistletoe above your head before leaning down to kiss you again.

#vernon x reader #bwkwinterexchange #kfluffnet #kpoptrashtag #kpopwritingnet #vernon fluff #hansol fluff #vernon fanfic #vernon scenario #vernon imagine #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen scenario #seventeen imagine

808 notes · View notes

backtothestart02 · 6 years

Note

31 and Westallen?? thankyou

I’m soooo delayed, but here’s the drabble for this, inspired from the @chroniclesofcisco post that talks about how Barry & Iris went out to a karaoke bar after they got engaged the second time. ;) Enjoy!

Prompt Line: “Stop it, you’re embarassing me.”

*unbeta’d

“This is actually…pretty nice,” Cisco admired, lookingaround the karaoke bar a few steps in.

“I’d take offense to that, but it wasn’t exactly my idea.”

Reluctantly, Barry turned away from Iris to respond toCaitlin’s comment.

“Hey, it wasn’t mine either-” He cut himself short whenCaitlin raised her eyebrows at him. “Okay, so the idea was mine, but you dug upthe exact location.”

“I didn’t choose the location,” she defended. “Shawna and—”

“So, this was the clubbing adventure I didn’t get invitedto,” Cisco interjected, a frown on his face.

“It wasn’t-”

“It was work-related-”

The two brunettes sighed, shoulder slumped.

“It was an excuse to pity ourselves,” Caitlin supplied.

“Essentially, yes.” He looked over at Iris who now had hereyebrows raised. “You were with Eddie, Ronnie wasn’t…quite himself and had takenoff again…”

“Ah. Well.” She scanned the room, taking in the size of thecrowd. “Why don’t we recreate that night?”

“Excuse me?

“I beg your pardon?” Barry and Caitlin deadpannedsimultaneously.

Iris shook her head and smiled, going up to Barry andbriefly massaging his shoulders.

“Under nicer circumstances?”

“As in-”

“As in, we’re engaged, Bear.” She nearly smacked him butsettled for a laugh instead.

“I know.” He slowly smiled, starting to lean down to kissher.

“Enough, lovebirds!” Cisco cut them off. They turned to lookat him. “It was my idea to karaoke. I want to hear the groom-to-be sing.” He turnedhis gaze towards Joe. “And the bride’s father?” He let the question hang.

“I will if you will,” Barry said before Joe could answer.

“Fiiiine,” Joe said, pretending to be bitter about the wholeordeal but the unraveling of his smile gave him away.

“I should get drunk first probably,” Caitlin announced,ignoring everyone’s cringing as she departed for the bar to start a tab.

An hour later Cisco had gone up once, Barry three times,Caitlin eight, and Joe twice, but Iris had refused every single time.

“One more!” Caitlin started to get up from her chair. “Singwith me, Barry,” she pouted. “Like last time! I’m sure they still have SummerRain in the machine!”

Barry laughed and shook his head. “No.”

“But Bar—”

“I’m not going up any more until Iris does.”

Iris nearly spit out her drink.

“What? No. I never agreed to this. You know I can’t sing,Bear. I can’t even dance.”

“Which is a damn shame since your fiancé and I can do both,”Joe remarked.

“See,” Iris declared, using her dad’s confirmation as reasonto not go up.

“Just because you can’t sing as good as I can doesn’t meanyou can’t sing, Iris.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Is that a compliment or a…”

“…insult?” Cisco and Caitlin looked at each other, confused.

“Iris.” Barry took her hands in his. “We just got engaged.For the second time.” He smiled a little. “I don’t care if your pitch goes highlike it does in the shower when you think I’m not listening.” Heat rose in herface. “Or if you go out of tune like that one time in the eighth grade when youdecided singing was your talent at the talent show.” Her eyes widened. “Or eventhe night before our high school graduation when you snuck out of the house togo to Brad’s pre-graduation party, and I ‘allowed’ myself to go with you, so Icould make sure you didn’t get too drunk-”

“Too drunk?” Joeinterjected, his dad eyes darting straight at his daughter. “Who is Brad?”

“Brad Baisley,” Barry informed him, suddenly all-knowing. “Thebane of my existence because Iris fawned over him for a good portion of oursenior year.”

“Stop it, you’re embarrassing me,” Iris demanded, unable tomeet her fiancé’s gaze.

“Then sing with me, Iris,” he pushed.

“Barry,” she warned.

“Sing with me, and I won’t even give the details as to howyou belting out the Star Spangled Banner got blasted from the girls’ lockerroom to the intercom during third period junior year.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Oh, I gotta know this.” Cisco leaned forward, his chinpropped in the palm of his hand.

“Details now, Barry,” Caitlin pushed.

Barry shrugged and started to lean back in his chair,contemplating where to start.

“You wouldn’t.” Iris’ brows narrowed.

“I wouldn’t,” he agreed. Her shoulders slumped in relief. “Unlessyou refuse to sing with me.”

“Barry Allen.” He looked up at her innocently. “I caaan’t,” she whined.

“For God sake, Barry, don’t make her,” Joe said. “And don’ttell us the details of that…incident either.”

“What?”

“No!”

“Thank you, Dad,” Iris said, feeling safer than she had allnight.

“Alright. If you say so,” Barry said.

“Thanks, Babe,” she said sincerely when he stood to his feetand leaned down to kiss her.

“Of course,” he assured her, then hopped back onto thestage. “Hey, everybody!” He announced to the crowd.

Everyone in the room responded cheerfully. They like when Barry came onstage to sing,Iris observed. Who could blame them though? He was hot and had the voice of anangel. Memories from the night before of him singing to her flitted through hermind, and she got chills.

“So, I told you right before my first song that my lovelygirlfriend agreed to marry me last night.”

The crowd cheered again.

“But what I neglected to tell you was that she likes to singtoo.”

Iris’ eyes widened in horror.

He pressed his face right up against the microphone.

“Her name is Iris by the way.”

“Iris! Iris! Iris!” chanted by multiple individuals drownedout the sound of anything else in the room.

“I taught him how to do that,” Caitlin beamed, having hadone drink too many and happy as a kitten.

Barry looked at Iris.

“Come on, Baby, show ‘em what you’re made of.” He winked. “Unless…”He looked out over the crowd. “You want me to tell them something else?”

Iris could not believe it. Not only had he gotten the crowdto chant her name so she’d feel obligated to sing, but he was threatening totell a whole room full of strangers embarrassing moments from her life if shedidn’t agree to his demands.

She would’ve throwed her drink in his face and stomped outof the joint if he wasn’t so damn sexy with that cocky grin on his face lookeddown at her with all the adoration in the world in his beautiful green eyes.

Everyone looking at her with baited breath, Iris finally stoodup and rounded the stage to walk onto it using the steps. Applause was heardaround the room, so Iris took the moment to lean towards him and whisper intohis ear, “I hate you.”

Barry grinned, giving nothing away. “You’re gonna do great.”

She repressed a sigh and told herself to just keepbreathing. It would be over soon.

Then the music started, and she looked up at the lyrics,startled by the song he’d chosen. She turned to look at him where nothing but atender smile stared back at her. She was still nervous as hell, but she wasunbelievably touched too. She figured she could stand singing one song in fronta crowd of people she didn’t know if this was what she’d be singing.

“I’ve got you…under my skin,” Barry began. “I’ve got you…deepin the heart of me.”

Her heart beat so fast she could barely hear him singingoutside the loud thrumming in her ears. But when her turn came, despite thetruth of her voice being subpar in comparison, it wasn’t half bad. And Barry couldn’tlook away from her. He was caught up, no sign of mocking or teasing a thoughtin his mind.

And when the instrumental segway hit in the latter half of thesong, Barry stepped away from the microphone, pulled Iris to him, and dancedwith her onstage.

“God, they are so romantic,” Caitlin swooned in her seat.

“He can dance too?”Cisco’s jaw dropped.

Joe smiled softly and watched the pair onstage lost in eachother’s eyes, the whole crowd captivated by their embrace as the song came to aclose.

“Damn right.”

21 notes · View notes