#[Sorry I’m late with the answer. I couldn’t figure out the costumes so I wrote this in past tense instead 😅] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lilythelitten · 2 years ago

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Rooftop Ninjas

(A recursive fanfic for TMNT: From the Hidden City, an incarnation by @hopeaterart )

…I wrote over FOUR THOUSAND words for this. Four thousand words for a fanfic of a fan incarnation that technically hasn’t even been written yet. I’ve never even written 4k-word fanfics for published works. What the heck, brain.

So since there aren’t plans to flesh them out (understandable, they’re far from the main focus) I have been thinking for a bit about the future kids. And in the process, created a very specific dynamic for Lita/Hinata and her brother Nagato. So have this story about them. Did I spend too much time on this? Yes, yes I did.

Should mention since there’s (again, understandably) not much to work with, I basically gave myself carte blanche to do whatever the fuck I wanted with the future kids (within reason). It’s not like any of this is canon anyway, so…yeah.

Few more things before we start: fight scene’s not great, sorry about that, hard to write a fight scene from the POV of a six-year old; I don’t know if everyone still lives in the clinic but I’m assuming they do for storytelling purposes; and she/her pronouns are used for CJ because I am assuming he hasn’t started using she/he at the point of time the story takes place, apologies if she has, not malice, just me not knowing.

Aaaaaand GO!

“Hina! Hey, Hina!”

Hinata blinked awake at the sound of a sharp, somewhat muffled whisper. Still sleepy, she closed her eyes again and buried her face in her pillow, trying to go back to bed.

“Hiiiiiiina.”

This time, the whisper came with a poke to the back of her neck. Then another. Then another. Hinata let out a soft groan, tilting her head so she was facing whoever it was. “What?” she mumbled.

Instead of an answer, a hand slowly pulled up her sleep mask so she could see who it was. Her vision was kinda blurry at first, so they were just a fuzzy silhouette, and she blinked a few times to clear it. And once it was clear...she had to blink again to be sure of what she was seeing.

A ninja. A small figure around her own height, maybe an inch taller, wearing a black jumpsuit with the hood and mask pulled up, two swords strapped to their back and two hanging from their hip. Through the darkness of the room and the visible space around their eyes, she could make out green skin...

But she didn’t need to. She knew who this was.

“Naga, why’re you in your Halloween costume?”

Her brother sputtered for a moment, then pulled down the mask to glare at her with a pout. “It’s not Halloween an’ it’s not a costume! It’s a ninja disguise worn by ninja.”

“Okay. Can I go to bed now?”

“No.”

“But it’s late.” Hinata squinted at the clock, the one bit of light in an otherwise pitch black room. “It’s ten. That’s really, really late.”

Nagato puffed his chest out proudly. “That’s nothing. One time, I stayed up ‘til midnight.”

Hinata gasped. “No!”

“Yep! And I’ll tell you all about it if you go do this with me.”

“Do what?”

Her brother set his hands down on the bed, grinning. “I wanna play Ninja.”

Hinata’s eyes went wide, and she shot up in bed. Ninja was a game she and her siblings and cousins had invented two years ago, and it was the best game ever. They’d all go outside (after the pepper spray incident Granduncle Splinter said they couldn’t play Ninja indoors) and divide into two teams—good ninja or evil ninja—and then they’d all pretend to have a ninja fight. Sometimes, they made up the situations. Other times, they’d act out battles their family had done a long time ago (Nagato always called dibs on playing their daddy). Every time, they pretend-fought until all the members of one of the teams were out (they had a rule, three strikes and you were out), and then the team that still had members won.

Hinata loved Ninja. They all did. But...

“But it’s late,” she said. “No one else is awake. We need teams to play Ninja.”

“No we don’t. We just need two people. One as the good ninja—” here, he pointed to himself “—and one as the evil ninja.”

She frowned. “Why’m I the evil ninja?”

“Because I don’t wanna be the evil ninja. Now c’mon!” Nagato grabbed her arm and yanked her out of bed, Hinata toppling to the floor with a yelp and a thud. Across the room, their sister stirred, and both siblings froze, holding their breath—but all she did was shift a bit before quieting again.

Nagato sighed in relief. “Gotta keep quiet,” he murmured, pulling Hinata to her feet. “I don’t wanna be tattled on.”

“Why don’t we ask them to join?” Hinata whispered.

“‘Cause none of them will listen to me even though I’m the leader.”

“I don’t think you’re the leader.”

“Who else could be the leader?”

“Um...CJ?”

“CJ’s our cousin, she doesn’t count!”

Hinata opened her mouth to respond, but Nagato cut her off. “Plus she never said she was the leader, but I did. Plus I’m older than you. So I’m the leader.”

Hinata wondered if she should point out that both CJ and Jan were older than them. She also wondered if she should point out that even among them and their siblings, Nagato was only second oldest, it was just that Kiyomi was completely uninterested in leading and so made no attempt to argue when Nagato declared himself the leader.

She then decided that it wasn’t worth the argument, and nodded. Her brother smiled smugly, puffing his chest out. “Like I said. I’m the leader. Now c’mon! Let’s go before we wake someone up.”

And so the two of them crept through the dark room, steadily making their way to the door and out into the hallway. They couldn’t risk turning on the light—that might wake someone up. They had to make their way through the darkness, carefully heading down the staircase to the second floor, where they’d have to be extra careful (this was where the adults slept).

They were almost to the next staircase when Nagato suddenly stopped, then gestured at the door beside him—the door to the dojo. “C’mon,” he whispered. “Go pick out a weapon.”

“A—” Hinata’s heart skipped a beat, and she stared at her brother in shock. “A weapon? We could kill each other!”

“Shhhhh!” Nagato hissed, putting a finger to his lip. After a pause, he continued. “We’re not gonna take actual weapons. Just practice ones.”

“How is that better? What about last time?”

“This will be better than last time!” Hinata was kinda amazed at her brother’s ability to whisper-shout. “Just...go grab one. I won’t hit you in the mouth. Sibling’s honor.”

(The “last time” they spoke of was a game of Ninja back when they were five, where Nagato had snuck practice weapons out of the dojo and CJ had ended up hitting Hinata in the mouth with a katana, knocking out her two front teeth and causing her to run sobbing to her parents. That day, Hinata had learned that she was supposed to lose baby teeth, and Nagato had gotten in trouble for sneaking weapons out of the dojo, and CJ had gotten in trouble for hitting her cousin in the mouth with a wooden katana.)

Reluctantly, Hinata stepped forward, opening the door to the small dojo and staring at it, too worried to go in. “Won’t we get in trouble?” she asked.

“Only if we get caught—now go!”

And her brother suddenly shoved her into the room. Hinata stifled a yelp as she stumbled forward, but once she steadied, she let out a resigned sigh and headed to look for the weapons.

It didn’t take her long to find them. It also didn’t take her long to pick one—she always liked the sword. Maybe it was ‘cause both of her parents were sword users. Whatever the case, Hinata carefully picked up the practice katana and nervously edged towards the doorway, heart loudly thumping with every step.

“You got it?” Nagato whispered as soon as she was there. When she nodded, he grinned. “Awesome. Let’s go.”

“Aren’t you gonna get a weapon?” Hinata asked, following him down the hallway.

“I’ve got my weapons.” He patted at the swords on his hip and the ones on his back.

“...why’re you bringing four?”

“You’ll see!”

They climbed down the second staircase, being extra careful with their steps—the first floor stairs were pretty creaky. When Hinata’s feet touched the floor, she felt a relief sweep through her. And a bit of thrill at having made it all the way to the first floor late at night without anyone noticing.

“Alright,” Nagato said. “Hard part’s over—now we just gotta get outside.”

Hinata stopped. “But the door’s locked,” she said. “An’ I dunno how to unlock it.”

“We don’t need the door.” He headed over to a nearby window and stood on his toes, pulling himself halfway up on the windowsill to fiddle with something Hinata couldn’t see. After a few seconds, there was a click—and, with a huff of effort, Nagato lifted the window.

Hinata’s eyes widened to dinner plate size. Nagato looked over his shoulder and grinned proudly. “Kiyomi figured out how to open the windows an’ showed me. Now we have secret passages outside.”

“How did you do that?” Hinata asked, walking up to the window as Nagato climbed fully onto the sill.

“Can’t tell you. Oldest sibling secrets.”

“But you’re not—”

“I’m the oldest brother. Do you wanna play Ninja or not?”

Hinata did, so she let her brother help her onto the windowsill. She carefully swung her legs so they were dangling on the outdoor side, then slid off the sill, landing on the ground. Nagato landed next to her a second later. “We gotta keep the window open,” he said, voice louder but still low. “So we can get back into the house when we’re done.”

“Back into...” The full implications hit her. “Oh my gosh. We— we just left the house!” Her voice was giddy with either excitement or worry. “We left the house an’ it’s late an’ we’re not allowed to leave the house at night an’ we stole from the dojo an’— an’—” She cut herself off with a gasp, clapping her hands to her cheeks. “We’re gonna get in so much trouble,” she whispered, eyes wide.

“No we’re not! We’ll be done and back in our beds before anyone even wakes up.” Nagato sounded so sure of it that Hinata relaxed a bit despite herself. “C’mon—follow me!”

He turned and started walking away. Hinata stared after him. “Aren’t we gonna play now?” she asked.

“Here? No! Everyone will hear us! I’ve got a better idea.”

***

“Nagato,” Hinata said, trying not to panic. “This is a terrible idea.”

They had just arrived at a building. They had climbed. The fire escape. All the way to the top floor (sure, it was only five floors, but still!). And they were about to climb onto the roof. To play Ninja.

Hinata wished she had stayed in bed.

“It’s fine!” Nagato insisted, standing on his toes and trying to grab onto the edge of the roof. “Daddy jumped around roofs all the time!”

“He was fourteen! What if we fall?!”

“We’re not gonna fall! We’ll stay in the center!”

“But what if we don’t?!”

“I’ll catch you!”

“What if you fall?!”

“I’m not gonna fall because I’m good at ninja-ing!” Nagato strained to reach the edge of the roof, standing on the very tips of his toes, then dropped into a slump with a groan of defeat.

“We can’t even reach it,” Hinata said, eyes nervously flicking up to the top of the building. “Can we please just go home and play in the backyard? I’ll be super quiet, I promise!”

“No, no!” Nagato declared, holding up a hand. “I know what to do here.”

He backed up a bit, took a deep breath, then shut his eyes in concentration. Everything was quiet for a bit, then there was a flicker of light. Then another. Then—slowly—the blue outlines of a second pair of arms shimmered into existence from his shoulders, flickering and wobbling before becoming stable. One magic arm reached up to grab the ledge, and Hinata’s eyes went wide. Is he gonna...?

He did. The other magic arm grabbed Nagato’s regular arm, sloooowly lifting him up to the roof. Nagato squinted in concentration, eyes glowing blue and regular arms stretched out to grab the ledge. Hinata watched him in silent terror, very aware of every wobble the magic arms made. What if he fell? How was she gonna catch him? If she couldn’t catch him, what was she gonna tell their parents? Her heart pounded in her ears as her brother reached for the ledge—

—and then the magic arms fizzled out of existence, and Hinata screamed and flinched away, covering her eyes.

...

“I got it!”

Hinata peeked through her fingers. Nagato had...he’d made it. He’d grabbed onto the ledge and was climbing up onto the roof with both his regular arms and the magic ones and...Hinata stared as he hoisted himself fully onto the roof, briefly disappearing from sight before his head popped out to look down at her, looking smug. “I told you I wasn’t gonna fall,” he said in a “duh” kind of voice.

Hinata was still staring. “I can’t believe that worked,” she said.

“Of course it worked! I’m a magic ninja!” He huffed, crossing his arms. “An’ I got magic first, so I know more about it than you.”

“Don’t brag.”

“What? I did get magic first!”

That was true. And very unexpected. A while ago, their dad had explained to them—all of them—that they were gonna get magic when they were older, probably teenagers, maybe earlier or later but the chances of that were low. And then two weeks ago Nagato got the blue power during the last game of Ninja they’d played, accidentally shoving CJ to the ground with magic arms.

It wasn’t impossible to get magic at six years old—Aunt Zia had been even younger when she got her power—but it wasn’t common, and all the adults had been really excited that he’d gotten it so young. And so for a week after getting the blue power, Nagato used it for everything and kept looking for excuses to use it and bragged about it to their siblings and cousins all the time.

Nagato was kind of exhausting sometimes.

“Now come on!” He leaned over the ledge, stretching his hand down to her. “I wanna play already!”

Hinata shrunk back, looking up at him in fear. “Wh-what if I fall?”

“I’m not gonna let you fall! I promise! Sibling’s honor! I’ll pull you up with the magic, just come on!”

Hinata hesitated, then grabbed her brother’s hand. The magic arms flickered back into existence to grab her arm, and Nagato pulled her up, helping her up onto the roof. She stumbled a bit as she stood up, and her heart skipped a beat—but she didn’t fall.

She was on the roof.

Hinata’s shoulders sagged and she sighed in relief. Nagato beamed, magic arms finally flickering out for good and his eyes fading back to black. “I told you you wouldn’t fall!”

“I was so scared—”

“You didn’t need to be! ‘Cause I didn’t let you fall!”

“I can’t believe I’m up here!”

“Believe it! Now—” Nagato gestured to the swords. “Can we play?”

“...” Hinata looked back at the edge. “Not so close?”

After moving to the center of the roof, the two stood apart facing each other. Hinata held the sword she’d taken from the dojo in both hands, not entirely sure whether it was one-hand or two-hand, while Nagato drew both swords from his belt, shifting a bit to try and get into a proper stance. The air itself buzzed with anticipation, and Hinata found herself unconsciously fidgeting. They hadn’t played Ninja in a while. Was she still good at it? Was she gonna get beaten in five seconds? And why—

“You’re s’pposed to talk.”

“Huh?”

“The evil ninja always talks about what their evil plan is at the start! An’ you’re the evil ninja, so you hafta talk.”

“O-oh, yeah.” Hinata cleared her throat, then thought for a bit. They didn’t agree on a scenario this time, so...maybe just make it up? “Um...fear me, people of Earth, for I am, uh...the Ultimate Ninja?” She looked at her brother, who gave a thumbs-up, prompting her to continue. “And I’m here to take over the world, and I’m starting here, with this city of yokai. Now, um, surrender, or I will...um...hurt you real bad.”

It wasn’t great acting. She was always rotten at playing the evil ninja. Fortunately, her brother more than made up for it.

“Halt, evildoer!” Nagato declared, dramatically pointing one of his swords at her. “You should be the one surrendering!”

“And...who are you supposed to be?”

“I am Leonardo Hamato! The coolest ninja of all! Now either leave this city or prepare for an awesome butt-kicking!”

Hinata paused. “I will not,” she said awkwardly. “You think you can beat me?”

“Of course I can!”

“Then...” She lifted her sword to point it at him. “Come face me.”

Nagato grinned and yanked up his mask so it covered the lower half of his face again. “Hajime!” he yelled, and charged towards her.

Hinata scrambled out of the way of the first sword strike, though she didn’t entirely need to; it was a slow swing, and Nagato had to throw his whole body into it. She tried to swing her own sword at his side, but it was heavy and slow and he dodged easily.

“These are heavy,” Nagato muttered.

“They’re made of wood,” Hinata pointed out. “Wood’s heavy.”

“Well—whatever!” He spun to her and swung, and Hinata scrambled backwards to avoid the hit. Nagato kept going though, relentlessly swinging his swords and forcing her back further and further to avoid them. Which, since they were trying to avoid the edge, led to him chasing her in a circle, spinning around the roof while clumsily swinging swords.

Seemingly realizing he was getting nowhere, Nagato spun the katanas so they pointed the same direction and thrusted them in a stab. Hinata sidestepped, barely dodging, and Nagato’s eyes widened—and then she thwacked him on the arm with her sword.

“Ooooow!” Nagato yelled, dropping his sword, while Hinata cheered, “Strike one!” Her brother glared at her, then stomped—hard—on her foot. “Ow!” she wailed—and then yelped as he thwacked her in the stomach with his other sword, sending her sprawling to the concrete.

“Ha! Strike one!” Nagato grabbed his dropped sword and raised them up, and Hinata raised her own sword to block it. The swords THUNKed against each other and Nagato stumbled backwards, Hinata frantically scrambling to her feet. Not waiting to regain her footing, she ran towards him, stumbled—

Thwack!

“Ow!” she wailed, grabbing her shoulder, which stung from the blow. Nagato laughed and cheered “Strike two!” then pulled back, readying for one more swing. Hinata’s eyes widened, trying to find some way to fight back, before Nagato swung with so much force he spun in place—

—and Hinata ducked under the swing and smacked her sword into Nagato’s side.

“Oof!” Nagato staggered backwards, arms flailing before he dropped to one knee, trying to catch his breath. “Strike two!” Hinata called out. A few seconds paused, then Nagato stood up, eyes narrowed.

They were both at two strikes. The next hit would end the game. Neither of them moved a muscle, just stood there staring at each other. Was he waiting on her? Did he have some kinda plan? Who was gonna move first? Who was gonna—

“Pssst,” Nagato fake-whispered. “You’re s’pposed to talk now.”

“Oh! Um...” Hinata hesitated, then cleared her throat. “You are quite skilled, ninja,” she said, sounding just as awkward as she had the first time. “But you cannot defeat me.”

“Ha! That’s what you think, bad guy!”

“Ultimate Ninja.”

“Whatever! For I, awesome ninja that I am, have a secret weapon!”

Hinata blinked. “Secret weapon?” she said, genuinely confused.

Her brother’s eyes glowed blue. The magic arms flickered into existence from his shoulders, but this time...Hinata’s eyes slowly widened to dinner plate size as they reached back, drawing the swords strapped to his back with a swish. He posed with the swords in his regular hands, the magic arms holding out the two other swords.

Hinata’s jaw dropped. “WHAT?!” she yelled.

“Behold!” Nagato declared, and she could hear his grin under the mask. “My shi kenjutsu!”

There was a brief silence on the roof.

“That’s Japanese for ‘four sword technique’.”

He reared back, leapt forward—

—and bonked himself in the head with a floating sword.

“Ow!” he yelled, stumbling back—and bonking himself again. “No—” The sword dropped a bit, this time hitting him in the shoulder. “Stop—” Hinata stared as Nagato backed up, trying to adjust the magic arms and bonking himself with his own swords over and over until he let out a scream of frustration and dropped on his butt, crossing his arms and scowling as the magic arms disappeared and the swords clattered to the roof.

“...” Hinata walked over, looking down at him with worry. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Nagato yanked down his mask and pouted, not looking her in the eye. “It was gonna be so cool...”

Hinata sat down next to him, and neither of them said anything for a moment. “Why’re we up here anyway?” she asked. “Couldn’t we have played Ninja normally?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause CJ and Jan don’t wanna play with me anymore.”

“Huh?”

“I asked if they wanted to play a few days ago an’—” Nagato’s lip quivered, and he looked away. “An’ they said no, they were busy.”

“That’s not—”

“They were playing earlier!” he insisted, head jerking to look at her. “I saw them! That’s why I asked! They just don’t wanna play with me!”

Hinata stared in confusion. “But why don’t they wanna play with you?” Sure, her brother was kinda bossy and sometimes he got them into trouble, but he wasn’t mean or anything.

Nagato’s pout morphed into a scowl. “It’s ‘cause they’re jealous.”

“Jealous? Of...” And then she realized. “Of the magic?”

“Mm-hm. They played with me before I got magic. Now they don’t wanna.”

“Oh...” Hinata wasn’t sure what else to say. “But...they play with the rest of us, right?”

“They won’t,” he said, his hands balling into fists. “You’re gonna get powers too, an’ then they’ll stop playing with you because they don’t wanna play with us because we have powers and they don’t!” His voice cracked on the last word, and he furiously rubbed his eyes. They were quiet for a bit after that, mostly just because there wasn’t much they could say.

Then, Hinata picked up one of the swords and lightly tapped Nagato on the shoulder.

“Wh—”

“Strike three!” she chirped. “I win!”

“Nooooooo!” Nagato wailed, springing to his feet and glaring at her. “You— you— you jerk! You cheated!”

“Nope!” Hinata replied brightly, standing up. “The rules are three strikes and you’re out! An’ we were still playing! I won!”

“Noooo!”

“I wooon, I wooon, I won I won I wooon!” she sing-songed, and Nagato pouted again.

“I’m leaving you on the roof,” he muttered, grabbing the swords he’d dropped and sheathing them on his back. Hinata gasped, all smugness gone.

“No— no! I’ll let you win, I’ll say you won, please don’t—”

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” he yelled, holding his hands up. “I’m not leaving you on the roof. You’re my sister, I like you. And I’d get grounded forever.” He picked up the other two swords and sheathed those on his hip.

She watched as he went over to the edge they’d climbed up from. “Are we done now?”

“My side hurts. An’ my arm.”

Hinata was suddenly very aware of the aches where the swords had hit. “Me too,” she said, following him to the edge.

It wasn’t a long drop down to the fire escape, and the two sat on the edge. “Naga?” said Hinata.

“Yeah?”

“If we do this again, can I wear my ninja costume too?”

“Yours is pink. What if everyone sees you?”

“They won’t! I’ll be extra stealthy, I promise. Sibling’s honor.”

Nagato thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Okay, sure.” And then he started climbing down to the fire escape to head home, Hinata following close behind.

***

By the time the two of them got home, they were giggling uncontrollably, giddy from having a ninja fight on the roof and getting away with it. They giggled as they climbed through the window and Nagato did that weird oldest sibling thing to close and lock it. They stifled the giggles when they climbed up to the second floor and briefly entered the dojo to put all the practice swords away, but it was right back to giggling once they were on the third floor and had made it back to Hinata’s room.

“That was amazing,” Hinata said, climbing onto her bed with a grin.

“An’ no one knows!” Nagato had an equally wide grin. “See, we don’t need meanie cousins to have fun. We just need each other, fake swords, an’ a roof.”

“An’ me winning.”

The grin slipped off Nagato’s face. “I’ll do the four sword technique right eventually,” he grumbled.

Hinata didn’t respond for a bit, thinking. “Do you think Daddy ever tried that?” she wondered. “Using four swords at once?”

“Probably! It’s s’pposed to be really cool and Daddy’s the coolest so he probably thought of it. An’ it’s hard to do because no one’s as cool as Daddy.”

She leaned in closer. “Not even Uncle Mikey?”

“Not even Uncle Mikey.”

“Not even Papa?”

“...” Nagato hesitated. “Well, yeah, Papa’s really cool, but...Daddy’s cooler. Don’t tell him I said that.”

“I won’t,” Hinata said, nodding.

They were quiet for a moment, then Hinata yawned, suddenly aware of how tired she was. “‘S late. I’m goin’ to bed.”

“Yeah, me too.” Her brother turned to head for the door.

Hinata burrowed under the blankets and pulled her sleep mask down, laying her head on the pillow. “Night, Naga,” she called out, already drowsy.

“Night, Hina.”

She heard the door softly shut, and then there was silence. Hinata shut her eyes, hardly daring to believe how much she’d gotten away with tonight—and no one but Nagato would ever know.

The last thought she had before she fell asleep was that having siblings was pretty great.

(One last author’s note: I am aware it has been stated that Raph and Donnie taught their kids to not antagonize their younger cousins due to jealousy. For my purposes, I imagine that lesson was taught sometime after Nagato ended up being an early bloomer powers-wise; they never thought they’d needed to have the talk so early. Also, eight-year olds can be jerks. Aaaaanyway hope you enjoyed this monstrosity I spent too much time on.)

#writing #my writing

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murderslugs · 4 years ago

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Getting To Know Them || Slasher x Reader Bf/Gf Scenarios Pt 2

Jason Voorhees

When you woke, you were lying in a dim living room. The windows were boarded with thick, rotting oak planks and the doors were bolted shut. The only light left to illuminate the room was a small lamp on the old, rustic coffee table in front of you. Beneath you was a somewhat scratchy couch, clearly taken off of someone's front line with a paper labeled "free to take" on it, or from some dump. However, you were thankful that it at least wasn't the creaky wooden floor instead. You scratched at the rope around your wrists, loosened from being wriggled around and messed with.

You sat up and allowed your vision to re-adjust, and saw the same man in flannel and ski-mask in an arm-chair on the other side of the coffee table. He didn't seem to notice your awakening, or he at least didn't acknowledge it. He was reading a book with a maroon cover, and you couldn't make out the small copper-shaded title. You studied his movement. He was calm and showed little emotion in his body language, simply reading in peace.

In a split second, you decided to break the peace and silence. "Who are you?" The man put down the book in his lap, but only looked up at you for a moment, silent. You could see him think, then make a few hand gestures. You came to the realization that it was ASL, but you never really learned the language, despite your interest in it. You saw him take a deep breath and get up, grabbing a pen and a notebook off a table to the side. He slid the items onto the coffee table before you and slowly unbound your wrists. You wrote your question out again, "Who are you?" and slid it around for him to see. He read it, and wrote quickly, in slightly messy handwriting, "Jason. any more questions?" and slid the items back.

From here, you two went on for hours, listing out questions on the notebook and answering them for each other. You filled out pages and pages, ranging from basic questions to things like "what was your childhood like?" Certain things like that, he would pause and then write that he didn't want to talk about it. Through the night or day (due to the lack of natural light, it was hard to tell,) this game went on.

Michael Myers

Though you tried your best and struggled and squirmed, the man who had taken you still had gotten you tied to a chair; where you sat with a belt tying your wrists to the wooden beams, thankfully with a cushion underneath your rear. You shut your eyes for a second and groaned, throwing your head back. You always thought of yourself as strong and independent, a fighter who didn't need help from anyone. Alas, this was one ass you couldn't kick, and you hated yourself for it.

Across the kitchen, the bright lights shined on the tiled floor, and a tea kettle whistled ceaselessly. The sound of running water stopped as the man who had taken you walked from the bathroom and into the kitchen. The man dried his hands on his pants and took the kettle off the burner, shutting the flames off. You observed him take two random mugs from the cabinets above, and place them on the white countertop. He carefully poured the tea into the two cups, and a light herbal smell filled the air. After a moment, you recognized the smell of hibiscus tea. This was a familiar smell, something your aunt made every morning when you spent the night at her house in the summers between school years.

The man walked over and brought the two cups with him. A low, slightly muffled, silky voice came from behind the mask as he slid a mug across the table to you. "Careful, it's scolding." The tall, built man walked across and unbuckled one of your arms from the chair for you to pick up the mug with. "Drink." He said, before taking a seat before you. This is when he slid the mask off, to reveal a face beneath that you never would have expected. Dark brown, shaggy, messy, wavy hair fell over his forehead, and he blew it out of his grey eyes. His face was scarred and his lips were chapped, but it somehow wasn't unappealing or revolting.

"What's your name? Who the fuck are you?" You asked, leaning as far as you could with your restraints still intact. The man pushed his hair back and sighed heavily, sipping the near boiling tea. "Michael. 24. Libra." He said in a monotone voice. You rolled your eyes. "This is an introduction to your victim, not The Dating Game." You told him harshly. "Well, is there something specific you wanna know? It's not like your giving me anything to go off of, sugar cube." 'Michael' replied with the same energy in return. "Fine. I'm (Y/N). What else is there to say?"

Carrie White

Like the pale girl suggested, Carrie if you remembered correctly, you came back to the public library next Sunday, around noon. You had finished the book you had most recently checked out, so you had to return it anyways. Walking down the pavement, you saw here in a light sundress, walking up the few steps and into the library. You ran to catch up and followed her, careful not to startle the girl. As soon as you got inside, you carried yourself to just behind her, and tapped on her shoulder.

The girl turned around, and a look of confusion appeared on her features. "(Y/N). We met here last week? I suggested you check out Narnia." You reminded her, an eager smile painted on your face. A spark formed in her eyes, and she returned your smile. "Oh! Yes, yes, I remember. I'm sorry, my mind is awfully clouded lately." You assured her that it was alright, and you two went along.

The two of you walked down the aisles of bookshelves, and she looked for something new to try out. Maybe she would check out a cook-book and try a new recipe, or read up on WW1. Although, you DID notice that she avoided the religious aisle. However, you didn't comment on this, out of respect. You two checked out a few books, and on the paved outdoor steps, you stopped her. "Would you like to go for coffee or tea? Even a pastry? There's a little shop down the street, I'll buy. I'd just like to talk a bit.

Carrie obliged happily, and the two of you took your books and walked down to the small cafe. It had a dim, rustic theme, and brought peace to anyone who entered it's walls. There was a faint vanilla sent in the air, welcoming you two. For about an hour, Carrie sat down with you and talked about your life, your week, basic things. It was nice to get to know her. She seemed kind, and gentle. Everything about her was graceful, from the way she sipped her latte to the way she tucked her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. As you two finished up your chats, you grabbed your things and greeted each other farewell, agreeing to meet again next week.

Jennifer Check

The pair of you had become half-decent lab partners over the last few weeks, but she didn't seem to be doing well with the subject. As a result, you decided that you would volunteer to tutor her in the subject after school. So, there you were, on your way to her house after school to hang out and help her study up on the subject and with the homework. It was a cloudy day, and you could tell that a storm was brewing in those clouds above your head. Because of this, you decided to walk a bit faster to avoid being soaked.

As you arrived at Jennifer's house, you knocked gently on the door. When you received no answer, you hesitantly knocked harder. Very suddenly, a slightly older woman answered the door, assumingly Jennifer's mom. The woman looked you up and down, then quickly turned to yell over her shoulder, "Jenny! Your new friend is here!" She then quickly invited you in and brought you a small tray of white-chocolate macadamia nut cookies, offering you to take one or two ((If you have an allergy to nuts, then M&M cookies.)) "I made these for you two while you were studying. There's also sodas in the fridge in case you need a drink." Jennifer's mom said joyfully, before scooping the strap of a purse onto her shoulder. "I'll be off now, I have a job interview to get to. Jen's room is upstairs, first door on the right. Have fun you two!" She informed you before heading out the door.

You walked up the stairs until you found an oak door, and knocked before coming in. "Uh, hi, it's (Y/N), I'm here to help you study..?" You said as you slowly walked in and shut the door behind you. Jennifer was standing, looking in the mirror and smearing concealer under her eyes. She sighed and looked over to you. "Sit on the bed. You know, I was gonna gut you like a fish and drink your blood like a Slurpee, but my mom seems to like you, and I don't think you're too bad. Shame, would have been a great opportunity." She said nonchalantly. As she turned to you, you saw that her face was pale and broken out in acne.

Your heart skipped a beat and the color drained from your face. "I'm sorry, w-what...?" You tried to gulp down the fear in your words. "I'm a succubus, idiot. Don't think that I didn't notice you staring at the blood on my shoes the first day we met. I feed on people's bodies and sexual energy so I can feel good and look good. But I've decided you're worth keeping around, so I'll save that for the next chump. So, shall we get to know each other?" She said calmly as she sat down beside you on the bed.

Billy Loomis

You were home alone yet again, but this time it was mid day. You were watching horror movies out of boredom on your couch, when you got a call. You hesitantly answered, to hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone. "I'm here, come let me in." You carried the phone with you. You figured one of your friends had stopped by to say hi, and their voice just sounded messed up due to shitty reception. You went to your front door, and looked through the peephole to see someone in a shitty costume, probably from Walmart, as it was October, and stores were starting to sell Halloween costumes and decorations. You hung up the phone and stuck it in your pocket, opening the door slightly with the chain lock still intact.

"Cut it out, prankster. That's not a very creepy costume. Ooo! I'm so scared!! Listen, I've seen the original Japanese film The Ring a million times, I'm not too scared of much." You heard the person sigh and push the door forward aggressively, breaking the lock. You jumped back in shock. "Hey! You're paying for that, asshole!" You yelled only for a quick response. "No, I don't think I will, beautiful. The man said, taking off his mask. To your shock, it was someone that you went to school with, Billy Loomis. You remember him graduating just the year before you, and were a bit shocked at his sudden appearance. You two had talked a bit, and you could consider yourselves acquaintances, but never really close friends.

Billy took a step forward, and in turn, you took one back. He put his hands up, showing he had no weapons in his hands. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt, that's not what I came to do. I just want to...get to know you. Look, you can pat me down, if you really feel the need. I don't have any weapons on me." You lowered your defenses a bit, but still kept them up. "Why would you want to know me so bad?" You asked hesitantly. "Well, I looked through your window and realized I'd found you again. And I wanted to get to know the pretty (girl/boy/person) I used to look at in the hallways every day." He said in a smooth tone. And that's where your night started.

Thomas Hewitt

It was a lovely Texas summer day. A warm breeze carried through the semi-tall grass in the fields, and the smell of fresh bread filled the small wooden house. On this fine afternoon, you happened to be listening to some old music, from the 50s-60s, and baking. When you least expected it, you heard a loud knock on the door. You figured it might have been one of your new neighbors looking to get to know you, or ask to borrow something. You strolled to the door and opened it, to see a rather large man in a butcher's apron, curly dark hair, and a rather scarred face on the other side. Though he had somewhat of a threatening aura, you knew that there was more behind his appearance.

You saw him open his mouth, but then stop and think for a moment. He hesitantly put his hands up and made a few broken and hand signals. You realized quickly that it was sign language, as you had an uncle growing up that happened to be deaf, so you learned it so that you two could talk. "I'm not deaf, I just don't like to speak." You watched him sign apprehensively, and responded allowed. "That's okay, hun. What can I do for you?" You asked, and he thought for a moment. "Do you have some salt I can use? Papa shot a..." He stopped for a moment, then looked back up to meet your eyes. "Papa shot a deer, and we ran out of salt to dry out the hide and season the meat." He asked, and you replied. "Of course! Come right in, I keep a few bags in the cupboard, I have a half-full one you can take home." You told him as you allowed him to come in and shut the door behind him.

Your bread sat warm in the window-sill, cooling down. As you handed him the salt, he pointed over to it. "Oh, do you want a piece?" He nodded aggressively, and you smiled. You grabbed the metal baking sheet and put it on the counter, slicing a few pieces. "Here, you can have more than one. I make it all the time, and it's just me here to eat it anyways." You told him. "Would you like to sit down and chat for a moment? I can make you tea or coffee too if you like? You can tell me about yourself. That is, if you don't have to be home right quick." The man nodded again, and set the salt down on the counter. "My name's Thomas. I'd like some...Peppermint tea, if you have it." The man signed to you, his guard down as he clearly felt welcomed in the household. "Okay, Thomas, right on it." You smiled warmly and handed him a thick slice of warm bread with butter and mulberry jam smeared over the top. "Take a seat, dear."

____________________________________________

~Author's Note~

Hi guys, I'm so sorry it took so long to get this second part out :( I've just been really stressed and not in a great mental place, plus the factor of writer's block and being scared to burn myself out. But thank you for those who have stayed through the hiatus to continue reading!! Please comment below if you have any character or scenario requests. Goodbye for now, loves!

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hydroponicjj · 4 years ago

Text

no place like home

pairing: peter parker x reader

summary: you get kicked out of your house and have nowhere to go. you want to tough it out on your own but your boyfriend won’t let you.

word count: 2k

warnings: mentions of abuse, alcohol, swearing

a/n: i’m back!!! wrote this instead of studying for my spanish midterm oops. hope that you all enjoy and make sure you send requests!

「 ₊˚.༄ 」

You were good at hiding your emotions.

This wasn’t something that you were appreciative of, you were ashamed. You wish that you could express how you genuinely feel without being terrified that someone would take advantage of your vulnerability.

But that’s just how life works when you grow up in a toxic household, with a mother that isn’t the friendliest.

“Y/N?” Peter spoke, causing you to return from your trance.

“If you aren’t going to take this seriously then you can just leave.” He puffed, flipping back and forth between pages, searching for an answer.

“I-I’m sorry.” You mumbled.

The two of you were currently studying for your midterms in Peter’s room. He was sitting at his desk, books sprawled everywhere while you sat on the carpeted floor, back pressed up against the wall.

“I can’t find the answer to question 32, did you?” He asked.

“No, I didn’t. I’m sorry.” You replied, weakly.

Peter huffed as he flipped the pages aggressively.

“What is it?”

“It’s just-” He hesitated, “I don’t understand why you come over here every day and just sit there and do nothing.”

You felt a pinch in your heart as he let out his frustrations, “I’m sorry.”

“And stop apologizing!” Peter struck his fist down on his desk, causing you to recoil.

He noticed how you inched away from him, “I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right,” You took a deep breath, “I’ve been in my head a lot lately and I haven’t been the girlfriend that you need right now.”

“Not to mention I’ve been a terrible study buddy.” You laughed, Peter smirked.

“That doesn’t excuse the fact that I scared you.” He was disappointed in himself. For a split second, he forgot about how sensitive you are.

“How about we take a little break? We can go out and get something to eat and maybe watch an episode of The Office?” You suggested as you stood up.

“I’m in work mode right now,” Peter watched your face for any signs of disappointment.

You nodded, glancing at the clock, noticing the time, “I should get moving before my parents notice that I’ve been gone this long.”

You bent down and began to place all the science and math textbooks into your bookbag.

“You should spend the night. May won’t mind, she loves having you over.”

“No, it’s fine.” You reassured but, Peter didn’t look satisfied.

“Hey, hey,” Grabbing his arms, you wrapped them around your waist, placing your head on his shoulder, “It’s okay, I promise.”

You stood in each other’s embrace for a few moments, finding harmony in each other’s presence.

Peter’s mind is always going 100 miles per hour, especially right now with the stress of midterms and having to make time to patrol the city. The both of you were dealing with stress and being able to have a few seconds of tranquility made all the difference.

“I’ve gotta go.” He released you from his clutch.

“Text me when you get home?”

“Of course.”

“I love you.” He beamed.

“I love you.”

Sneaking into your house is way harder than sneaking out. Having to avoid not only your parents but your loud dog that gets super excited when she sees you.

Throwing your bag on your bed, you climbed through your window, careful not to slip on any of the toys scattered on the floor.

Everything had been calculated so that your mother and father would eat dinner while your dog begged at their feet, so you come out of your room and claim that you had been taking a nap.

But not everything goes according to plan. Your parents never let the dog out of your room so, she was lying in your bed instead of on her own. She felt your bag hit the bed and shot up, beginning to bark.

“No, no, no!”

It was pointless trying to get her to stop because you could hear the harsh footsteps on the way to your room.

Your mom stood in the doorway, arms crossed as she leaned against the frame. The tension increased by a tenfold. Your confident stature depleted with every second that passed.

“You know, if I’m going to pay for this room, I expect it’s going to be used, right?”

“Yes,” You’d learned that she’ll make it easier if you agree and don’t antagonize her.

“So, when you’re not in here, it tells me you aren’t using it.” She spoke, malice laced within her voice, “Do you want to live here?”

“Yes.” You responded.

Your mother nodded her head, “If you sneak out again, I’ll see that you don’t have a room to come home to.” She sent you a passive-aggressive smile and slammed your door.

You let out a sigh of relief, even though she just threatened to kick you out if you snuck out to see Peter again. The exchange had gone better than most nights, presumably because it was too early for her to drink.

Flopping on your bed next to your dog, you let her give you a couple of kisses before pulling your phone out of your back pocket and sending Peter a message.

You: Hey! I’ve made it home.

Peter: Great. Still studying :(

You: Keep pushing!! I’ll make sure that I help next time

Peter: Any problems?

You: Nope :)

Peter: Good.

Peter: Wanna retry this study date tomorrow at 6:30?

You: Yep, see you then <3

“Shit.” You huffed.

You were asking to get thrown out. Here it was, 6:00 pm, and you were crawling out of your window as if your mother didn’t threaten you with eviction less than 24 hours ago.

As you strolled toward the Parker’s apartment, you thought of how your foolproof plan could go wrong. Would your dog bark again, or would your mom be waiting in your room as soon as you arrived?

“Hey,” Turning your head, you saw none other than Peter Parker send you his alluring smile.

“W-What are you doing out here?” You questioned, eyebrows contorted in confusion.

Pulling his hands from behind his back, he displayed 3 bags of food, “I was picking up our dinner for tonight.”

“Dinner?”

“I thought we could scrap the whole studying idea and have dinner with May.” He revealed.

You tried your best to control your facial expressions and body language, not wanting to give Peter any signal that this would raise a problem.

“Sounds good.” You nodded.

“I’m so glad that we’re able to do this before I patrol. It puts me in a good mood before I go-”

“Kick some ass?” You interjected.

“Somethin’ like that.”

The rest of the walk to Peter’s apartment was filled with stories of the peculiar things that he would see while patrolling the city at night. Weird things that people tried to steal and the extravagant costumes people wore.

“A nightgown?” You asked as you entered his apartment.

“A nightgown,” Peter confirmed as he took your jacket, hanging it on the rack mere feet away from the entrance.

“Hey, Y/N!” May greeted, waving at you from the kitchen.

“Hey, May! So nice to see you again.” She emerged from the kitchen and gave you a small hug before turning her attention towards her nephew.

He handed her a receipt, and the placed the bags on the dining table, “Let’s eat.”

“So, Y/N, how’s school going? Someone has been studying like crazy.”

“School is going well. I think people are stressed with midterms, but I can’t wait until things get back to normal.” You explained, putting food onto your plate.

The conversation flowed nicely. It was easy to talk to Peter’s aunt because she was so understanding and non-judgmental, she had become more of a mother towards you than your actual parent.

“I guess it’s true that time passes faster when you’re having fun,” Peter spoke.

You looked at the clock, it was almost 9:45. It was at least a 30-minute walk back to your house

“Oh my. I’m sorry to rush out like this but, I have to get home before-” You paused, not wanting to say anything that would worry Peter or May, “This was fun we’ve gotta do this again.”

“Soon.” May smiled, watching as you grabbed your coat, frantically.

“I love you, Peter. I’ll text you when I get home.” With that, you exited the Parker’s apartment and rushed out of the building.

There was no way that your absence went unnoticed by your mother, now that she’s on high alert of you sneaking out. You had completely forgotten about checking the time. There was something about the Parker’s that made your problems seem so minuscule to the point where you didn’t even think about them.

With every step you took, the pit in your stomach increased in size. Whatever destiny you had waiting for you at home, you didn’t want it. You wished that you could turn around and go back to Peter’s apartment and exchange funny stories with him and his aunt.

But you can’t outrun fate.

When you reached your window, you were faced with 3 black trash bags and a note, “I warned you.”

“Fuck,” You sobbed, “She fucking kicked me out.”

You always knew that your relationship with your mother wasn’t the best but, you loved her and you assumed that she loved you too. You didn’t even want to imagine what feelings she harbored towards you if she could throw you out with ease.

You opened the bags and saw your clothes, materials for school, and a few miscellaneous things. There was no way that you could carry all of this stuff, it was way too heavy and you didn’t own a car.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” You heard someone say from the roof.

The first thing you noticed was the colors red and black and knew exactly who it was, “What are you doing here?”

“Y-You rushed out of my house like we had a disease or something, I knew something was wrong.” He explained.

You couldn’t see under his mask but it didn’t take a genius to know that he was confused, “What’s all this?”

“Pete, I think I’m in trouble.” You croaked, your eyes were red and blurry from crying.

He came down from the roof and instantly embraced you in a hug. You let a sob escape your throat as he held you, “Why didn’t you just call me? We could’ve figured something out.”

You sighed, “I’m not your responsibility. Plus, you have all of this stress on you and-”

“Did you think that I’d turn you away or something?” He questioned, taking off the mask covering his face so that he could look you in the eyes.

“Look at me,” Peter gently took your face in his hands, “I know that you grew up thinking that you are a burden but you’re not.”

“Do you remember when I was distant from everyone for months after Uncle Ben?”

You nodded.

“You were the person that restored me to normal. No one asked you to but you did, remember that?”

“Yeah,” You sighed, resting your face in his palm.

“We’ll figure this out together.” Peter reassured, caressing the back of your head as he pulled you into yet another hug.

“Together?”

“Together.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #peter parker angst #marvel #Marvel MCU #imagine #angst #jey's oneshots

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takara-kaneko · 4 years ago

Note

I know I request a lot now so take your time. It could you do a part 2 to the mc leaving one? Good or bad doesnt matter, just some closure about if they’re capable of changing and get mc back? Maybe building up mcs confidence again bc now they’re hesitant to start planning parties again.

Surprisingly, I’m still here! Pandemic life has been really getting to me, haha, but I am still here! I’ve been working on this fic for a while, and it has become much larger than I had first anticipated, but I hope that you enjoy it nonetheless! If you haven’t read the first story, then click Here!!

Let Me Go Part 2 (Good End)

Zen 🎭

He was in his dressing room, changing out of the costume of his most recent character. The performance was a success, and he had been receiving so many compliments by the audience and the cast alike. But he didn’t really feel happy. Hell, he hadn’t been happy for a long time now. Not since MC left.

Without thinking, he pulled out his phone and unlocked it. Staring at back him was her contact photo, with an empty text bar below. Zen had written up so many drafts, each giving a different apology, and each begging for forgiveness. But he never sent them to her. Not until everything within the RFA was fixed; not until he had fixed everything.

It has taken some hard work, but he was finally believing that things were the way they should be. The RFA was making strides coping with their loss of Rika. Many, himself included, were really starting to move on. Maybe it was time for him to message.

With bated breath, he began typing. “I don’t know if this is too late, but I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t expect your forgiveness, nor do I deserve it… I’m just… trying to repair what I’ve done. I’m trying to fix me. MC, I love you, more than I can express in a text. I hope you know that.”

His finger hovered over the ‘send’ button. It had been months, did she really want to get something from him now? Would she even care, or has she already gotten over him? Zen shook his head, trying to ignore his thoughts. With nothing to lose, he sent it. As it was delivered, he heard a chime from outside his door, followed by a soft curse.

Curious, Zen approached the door and opened it. There was no one in front of him, but as he looked out, he saw a figure walking away from him. A figure that had haunted his thoughts and riddled his dreams. Zen stepped forward a few steps and reached out to her, a painful expression painting his face.

“MC! MC, wait...”

She stopped but doesn’t turn back to him. “I watched the show…” He strained to hear her, she was almost whispering, “You were really good, Zen.”

Zen had to restrain himself from approaching her. From wrapping her in his arms and refuse to let her go ever again. But he couldn’t do that to her, she had every right to leave him and never return.

“I didn’t know you were going to watch it. I could’ve gotten you tickets.” He didn’t really know what to say. He was being awkward, Zen knew he was, but so long as she continued to talk to him, he couldn’t ask for anything more.

MC still didn’t move, almost frozen where she stood. “I didn’t know I was either. A friend of mine got tickets and she didn’t tell me where we were going until I saw you on stage. And I…” Turning her head towards him, he could see the tears falling from her eyes. “...I realized how much I’ve really missed you, Hyun.”

There wasn’t even a moment to think before Zen was in front of her, wiping away the tears on MC’s face. “Jagi, please don’t cry, I don’t deserve your tears. I’m the one who caused you to leave.”

He wrapped his arms around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. If she was really going to be out of his life, he wanted one last memory of her. Her scent, the feeling of her on his skin. Anything he could, he wanted to remember.

“I’m so sorry, MC… I’m so sorry.” A sob escaped Zen as he stood there, gripping the love of his life.

“Did you mean it?” She whispered into his chest, “Your text, do you really mean what you wrote?”

Zen stopped a moment. Did she really not think that he would change everything if it would give him a chance to get her back? “Baby, of course, I do. I would do anything, anything, if it meant that you would still be here.”

MC sniffled a bit before taking a few steps back. More than anything, Zen wanted to hold on, wanted to have her stay and be with him. But it was her choice, and he refused to take that away from her. As he released her, Zen clenched his jaw to restrain his want to grab her hand.

She looked up at him, her lip quivering. “I can’t… I can’t just come back like nothing ever happened.”

Zen nodded. Yes, he knew that this would be the answer. After all, he didn’t deserve her, even for the time he actually had her. To get MC back was just-

“We have to start over.” She declared, pulling Zen out from his own thoughts in a flash, “From the beginning. I need to know that this is real, not something you’ll say to get me back and it goes back to the way it was before. I can’t do that again and I-”

MC’s words are cut short by the feeling of Zen’s hand caressing her face. He looked at her, with nothing but pure euphoria. “For you to be in my life, even if it’s just as friends, I’ll do whatever you need me to. If you want to restart, I’ll just...”

Taking a few steps back, he reached out his hand for a handshake, “Hi, my name is Hyun Ryu, stage name Zen. And I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Trying to fight back the tears, she reached up and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m MC. And I have missed you every second you have been out of my life.”

Yoosung ⭐️

These past few months had been a really rough time for Yoosung. Not only having to deal with the regular stresses of his life, but he also had no idea how to do it without depending on someone as capable as MC.

He had decided to focus entirely on school, even considered dropping out of the RFA, but at their refusal, he explained what happened. The weight of their actions dawned on them. The whole group pledged to work on this mistake, without much pushing from Yoosung. They all seemed to miss MC, even if it isn’t as much as Yoosung did.

But with the RFA making steady progress, Yoosung decided to get a hold on his life, passing all of his courses this year with flying colors.

Part of him wanted to call MC, tell her all the good things he accomplished in his strides to become better, but with only time he’s heard from her was the reply to the text he sent the night she left; he didn’t feel he deserved to talk to MC. He didn’t want to bother her. She likely never wanted to see him again, and he couldn’t blame her.

But with finals finally done, Yoosung felt like it was time to reward himself for his success. There was a limited time expansion for LOLOL and Yoosung had just saved enough to get it. He went into the game store, excited to finally get to play it.

Getting in line, he couldn’t help but stare at the hair of the woman in front of him. If he didn’t know better, he probably would’ve thought that it was MC-

Wait. Was that MC? She had the same beautiful locks, the same frame, but it was hard to tell from the baggy sweatshirt she had on. He stood, awkwardly staring at the girl in front of him, trying to build up the nerve to just poke, maybe brush into her so she’d turn around?

No, no that was stupid… What if it was her, what then? ‘Oh hey MC, nice to see you again? I haven’t been a happy a single moment since you left; I need you in my life.’ Yeah, Yoosung tells himself, that’s a horrible plan. If it was her, she probably wouldn’t want to see him, anyway.

He pulls out his phone to look at her last text, “And my heart to you, Star.” Sure, she said that, but did he actually deserve that? Wasn’t what he put her through enough? But even so… he wanted to see her, even just once. He glanced back down at his phone, at her ring that has become his keychain and made up his mind.

“Hey, sunshine.” He said, enough for the girl in front him, but not loud enough that it was directed toward her. He watched as she flinched, dropping her phone in the process.

Yoosung went for it, apologizing as he did. Picking up the phone, he freezes. On the lock screen was of him, happily hugging the love of his life. He remembered that photo, it was the first time MC told him that she loved him. It was one of the happiest moments in Yoosung's life.

A pair of hands met his, taking the phone. Yoosung almost tried to keep the phone to keep looking at the photo, but it’s not his phone, so he let the other hands take it. Standing back up, he was face to face with MC.

Status: Frozen

Yoosung had no idea what he was supposed to do. Should he talk? Wave? Maybe just ignore her…? What? no! Swallowing thickly, Yoosung stuck his hand out to wave at her.

‘I’m such an idiot’ Flashed through his head, but he had to push past it.

“Hey, Sunshine. You… you look really good.”

She looked down at her sweatshirt and baggy pants and laughed softly, “I haven’t taken a shower in two days, I needed to get to a high enough level to be able to play the DLC. I don’t have you to carry me through those high-level missions anymore…” MC trails off, looking away from him.

“Are you kidding?” Yoosung said, surprised, "You were much better than me when I started. You’ll be one of the top members on the server in no time! You’re already at ranking 137, that’s incredible to only have been playing for a few months!”

At his words, MC’s eyes widened. Yoosung realized how weird his statement must’ve been. Who keeps track of their ex-girlfriend’s gaming status? Him, definitely. There were times Yoosung wanted to offer her the legendary gear he had collected, but could never build up enough courage.

Clutching a strand of her hair, MC sucked in a breath, “Well… How have you been? Classes going well?”

Yoosung nodded shyly, now embarrassed and not sure what to say with her finally in front of him, “Yeah, Finally passed with some of the top grades in my class! Your study guides really helped me out, though I missed working with you on them.”

“Well, you seem to be getting along fine, so you can’t be missing much.”

With furrowed brows, Yoosung caught MC's hand as she was about to turn away, “MC… I have been doing these things for you. For how much you pushed me and supported me. For me to fail when you left, would be the ultimate proof that I never should have had you in the first place.”

MC opened her mouth to speak, but Yoosung persisted, not allowing her to say something that couldn’t be more wrong, “You think I’ve just moved on, but I still haven’t, I swear that to you. Instead, I’m trying to be someone you’d be proud of. Improving my grades, becoming more independent. Even the RFA is trying to change to make it more welcoming to you, if you’d ever think about coming back to me- us. Come back to us.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, needed to say. But just as he opened his mouth to speak-

“Miss, you’re next.” The cashier said, gesturing to MC. Hesitantly, MC released her hand from his grasp and left him alone. He watched as she conversed lightly with the attendant checking out her game. With a smile, he returned her change and a bag with the game inside. Yoosung reached out to talk to her again, but the man calling him caught him off guard. He glanced over towards the man, then back to MC, only to see she was gone.

With a heavy heart, he reached the man and bought his game, not even reciprocating the attendant’s excited comments about the DLC. Exiting the store, Yoosung was trying not to cry. (He needed to get back home before that happened) So as he went through the door, he didn’t see the figure standing beside it until they had grabbed the back of his shirt. But he was sad, he was angry, he was ready to throw down. Imagine his surprise when he turned, fists formed, only to be face-to-face with MC once again.

“Sorry to scare you!” She squeaked, putting her hands up in surrender.

The sadness in his heart immediately changed to relief as he looked into her serene eyes. Everything was right with the world once again.

MC stood there, mustering up the courage to ask the one thing has had been wanting to say since the beginning of their conversation. “I was uh, just wondering if you would like to… You don’t have to say yes, but I’d like you to.”

Even though nothing was actually explained, Yoosung still had a slight idea of what she was trying to say, “I’d love to work together to beat the next few levels with you, MC. Superman Yoosung is always here for Eternal Sunshine MC.”

She nodded at him, tears beginning to prick the corners of her eyes “I think I’d really like that.”

Jumin 🍷

“Just reporting: Has the famous CEO bachelor finally found his date to the upcoming charity ball?”

With a sigh, Jumin turned off his smartphone. Despite their engagement was never announced publicly, reporters everywhere were trying to pin down who was the 'next woman' to be Jumin’s girl now that he was seemingly single. What they never accounted for was that he had no other plans. MC was the only woman he believed could ever understand him. And in these few months, that point became even more airtight. Not even his father truly understood the pain he was going through. He found himself wanting nothing more than to just work and stay home, avoiding everyone.

But he did have to go to this charity ball. He had made a large donation, albeit in the company’s name, to the organization. After all, it was one that MC supported the most. It meant the world to her, so he’d give it as much support as he could.

Jumin exited the limo and easily ignored the flashing lights of the cameras around him. Ignored the passing questions and remarks from the reporters. All but one.

“Have you finally found a replacement for your ex-girlfriend?”

It took all he had not to turn back to the reporter. MC could never just be replaced. There was no one in the world like her. So with gritted teeth, he entered into the building.

For Jumin, entering the room immediately calmed his nerves. Looking around the scenery was like a breath of fresh air when such a feeling was so foreign to him recently. He couldn’t spot anything in particular that could make him feel that way, but the whole place just felt so comfortable.

Glancing at the people, however, there was someone that stuck out among the rest. A woman in a sleek, black dress, carrying a glass of champagne as she laughed with the man across from her. Anger flared in the back of his mind as he watched the smile that graced her slender face. As the man touched the soft skin on her hand. No one should touch his MC-

But she wasn’t his anymore, was she? And he no longer had a say on who she talked to, not that she would have completely listened to him anyways.

Even as he was thinking this, Jumin found himself nearing them. Seems his subconscious was wanting to see her once more. Wanting to get that man’s hand off of her. But would she even want to see him?

Not stepping any further, he began watching her again, trying to commit every feature to memory. But she caught his eyes for a moment before turning back to the target of her conversation. With a small handshake, she turned and headed towards him.

Unprepared for this conversation, he picked up a glass of champagne from a tray passing him by and drank at least half of the liquid in one gulp. He noted the smile on her face as he did it, which he found interesting. But there was no time to think about it as MC was already on him before he knew it. “Jumin, it’s a pleasure to see you could make it out here. I take you were the one behind C&R’s large monetary donation?”

Jumin was still frozen, unsure of what to say. She seemed happy. And she was the one to come to him, not the other way around. Surely she actually wanted to speak to him or she wouldn’t have come to him, right? He coughed lightly and looked into her eyes, “Yes, I remember you speaking so highly about this charity, so when the opportunity arose, I made sure to contribute. The RFA’s funding should be coming here too from the most recent party, as well.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” MC nodded, gesturing vaguely behind her, “I spoke to V a moment ago, he came to represent the RFA.” Puzzled, he looked at her with a curious expression. MC understood and smiled, “I’m now one of the leading positions within the organization. I’m their event coordinator, so I get the list of attendants, as well as how much they donated. Both C&R and the RFA’s were very generous, I must thank you.”

While it was unexpected, Jumin wasn't surprised. MC was very talented and capable of greatness. He smiled at her, and nodded slowly, “I’m glad to see you’re still making a name for yourself, MC. You’re a talented woman, they are very lucky to have you here.”

A blush spread across her face at his words. She looked down at the ground for a moment before gazing back at Jumin. There was so much he wanted to say, but here and now wasn’t the right time. He leaned in closer to her, his breath brushing past her ear, “May I speak with you a moment?”

She nodded slowly and followed him to the corner of the room, away from the crowd. Not that he truly noticed them in the beginning, as everything else seemed to fade away when he is with her. But in their isolation, he could feel his heart swell. Jumin wanted to hold her hand, kiss her, tell her how much he missed her, and loved her. How much he prayed she would come back. But none of that actually came out, all he could do was close the distance between them and wrap his arms around her affectionately. Tears pricked the corner of his eyes as he held her against him.

Jumin shakily sighed as her hands gripped the fabric of his suit, “Oh, how I’ve missed you…”

In a quick motion, she pulled away from him, but only enough to look at him with a scrutinizing gaze, “You actually missed me?”

“Without a doubt, I have longed for you every moment you were away. Did you think otherwise?” He looked at her, feeling a mix of curiosity and worry.

MC shook her head, her smile falling as confusion began to cover her expression, “If you missed me, why haven’t you tried to bring me back? A message, a call… anything? You’ve been silent this whole time… Even V talks to me more than you do and we both know how hard he is to get in touch with.”

Sliding his hands down to hold her hand, Jumin tried to put his thoughts into words. “Because I don’t deserve you. You were perfect and I was… flawed. All of us were. I didn’t want you to be brought down because of us. You had left for a good reason."

“Jumin,” She said softly, “I am far from perfect. I left you instead of trying to work with you on it. And when you never called... I thought you hated me-“

Without wasting a moment, Jumin leaned in to connect his lips with hers, cutting off her next words. Hate her? He never once held the smallest amount of anger towards her, the thought of it was revolting. Separating their lips just enough for him to speak, he leaned against her forehead, “I could never hate the woman I’m hopelessly in love with.”

She closed the distance between them, sealing the two in another kiss. They embraced in the corner of the room and began to dance before the music even began to play.

Saeyoung 🚧

Every day was just like the last. Get up, work, finish the job, sleep. The only variation was when Vanderwood would show up in the day. Ever since MC left, he had been coming over more often, complaining that he had to clean up after him more now that MC wasn’t there anymore.

Though it was really to make sure that he was okay and to force him to eat.

And he was right. Once she left, Seayoung fell right back into his bad habits. Not eating, barely ever sleeping. He was nothing more than a slave with survival as his only goal. To live long enough to see those he loved living a happy life without him.

But it was odd, he wasn’t able to track MC here recently. She was on the CCTV still, trying to talk to him through it ignoring the strange looks she got for shouting and gesturing at a surveillance camera. But in the world of binary numbers, it was almost like she turned into a ghost.

With a sigh, Saeyoung turned on his system to continue working on his newest assignment. Maybe it was a good thing, to never be able to see her. Then he’d never be reminded of all the reasons he should never have made her leave.

`ALERT: VIRUS DETECTED`

The words covered the page. Not knowing what had happened, he knew one thing. He had been hacked.

Saeyoung froze. How did… it wasn’t possible. With crossed brows, he began trying to get around the evident hacking that had infiltrated his servers. All the information he had on this comp-

“Oh, no... God, please... No.” He muttered, remembering all of the photos he had of his brother and of MC. If his ineptitude put either of them at risk, he could never forgive himself.

But as he broke deeper and deeper through the firewalls that were placed, he noticed that the hacker had a lock on everything but the photos of them. It didn’t make sense, but it was almost completely untouched.

As he clicked the folder, their photos appeared on screen, untouched, perfect. Except, there was one addition, a video with a black screen.

Holding his breath, Saeyoung opens the video. It shows a blank screen for the longest time until a simple 6 words appeared.

“CAN’T AVOID ME FOREVER! LOVE, 606”

As his mind began processing the words on the screen, Vanderwood entered the room. For a moment, Saeyoung was worried he’d yell at him for the state of his computer, but his partner only looked at him with a knowing grin.

“MC said that you can either spend two hours unlocking your computer or come into the living room to talk with her for ten minutes.” He stated, trying not to look as amused as he really was.

With a sigh, he looked away from Vanderwood, "There really is no way around this, is there?” His friend didn’t reply, only shook his head. Saeyoung stood up, sticking his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and walked out of his room.

There she was.

Just a few feet away.

His heart broke just seeing her beautiful face and wanted nothing more than to go to her and apologize for all that he’s done. But he didn’t. Instead, Saeyoung walked passed her and sits across the room, as far as possible. Without a word. “You’ll release my computer?” He asked coldly, staring at the ground beneath her seat.

MC nodded, before realizing he wasn’t looking at her. Chuckling lightly, she couldn’t help nodding again, “Yes, I will. You know me, I stick to my word. Other than the hour statement I told Vanderwood, it would’ve taken longer. But if you had chosen the hard route, you would’ve realized how much harder it really was after two hours went by and come out anyway.”

Withholding the want to look at her, Saeyoung ran his hand through his hair. “How did you manage to get into so much of my software without my noticing?”

“When I left, I had wondered if you really didn’t know what you were doing, or if you were just pushing me away again.” She sighed, taking a moment before continuing, “So I hacked in far enough to see your code, and then set up a virus to the video input of your computer. Then I spoke to the CCTV and waited. 15 seconds. That was all it took until you opened it to see me speaking. And as long as that was up, my virus got through. I really didn’t think it would actually work, so it was really helpful you would only focus on me when the videos were up. I suppose I should thank you for that.”

He could hear Vanderwood laughing from the kitchen, but decided to ignore it. “Why? Why interfere in my work?”

His sharp tone cut into MC, but she only smiled at his harshness. “Because I wanted to see you, Sae.”

She.. what? He had outcasted her, tore her down, and made her feel worthless. And she wanted to see him? Saeyoung was at a loss for words. It took a moment for him to speak again.

“There’s no reason for you to see me again. I don’t have closure or anything for you. You’re better off-“

“That’s not what I want.” She interrupted. Taking the moment of silence between then, she stood up and approached Saeyoung, sitting next to him.

He wouldn’t look at her. He couldn’t. One glance and he knew all of his walls would break.

“Then what do you want?”

She placed her hand on top of his, trying not to lose her composure as he moved his hand away from hers. “I want to be with you again.”

Saeyoung couldn’t help the scoff that came out of his mouth. “I thought you made it pretty clear you didn’t. Isn’t that why you left?”

While every word he spoke felt like a dagger in his heart, his face remains stoic. “I needed time. And I got that. This was never a permanent deal unless *you* make it one.

“Then consider this our official breakup. Clean my computer and leave.”

MC turned her head away from him for a moment, no doubt to wipe away her tears again. “I don’t believe it.”

“Well, it’s true!” He shouted. “I don’t care about you, now leave me alone!”

As she goes to refute his words, nothing but a small whimper came out. She placed her hand on his once again, not allowing it to get out of her grasp. With tears in her eyes and a reforged determination, she stared at the man she loves. “Then look me in the eyes and tell me that. Tell me you don’t feel an ounce of feelings for me, and I’ll leave.”

The quivering of her voice ripped through him in ways that bullets never could. But if he didn’t do it, she would be dragged down with him. Gripping his hoodie tightly, he lifted his eyes to reach hers. To tell her one last time to leave him and go live the life she was meant to live.

But as he stared at her tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes, the words he wanted to say disappeared, and Saeyoung began to do the one thing he didn’t want to do- speak from the heart.

“I never want you to cry, MC. Don’t you see that… That you’ll be hurt by staying with me, and you’ll cry. And I can't take seeing you like that. I can’t tell you I don’t care, but I will ask you to leave, one last time.”

Unable to look anymore, he dropped his eyes, staring at their conjoined hands until something lightly touched his forehead. Feeling her lips on his skin sent shudders down his body as tears formed in his eyes.

“I have cried more time since I left this house than I would have in a lifetime by your side. My love, nothing hurts worse than being apart from you.” She could only whisper, the sounds getting stuck in her throat. “Please, Sae, please let me back in.”

Saeyoung looked back up, into MC's red-rimmed eyes. How could he ever refuse her? With a simple nod of his head, Saeyoung reached for her, clutching her tightly in a breathtaking hug. And MC’s hold was just as strong.

Maybe he was wrong. Could this time be the good route, the one where he can actually be happy? Saeyoung didn’t know, but with the feeling of MC in his arms, he doesn’t see how life could get any better.

. . .

After hearing the conversation, Vanderwood stood awkwardly in the kitchen, wondering when it’s would be okay for him to come back out.

I really hope that you guys enjoyed it! It was a pleasure to write your requests. If you have any ideas, feel free to drop a free request!

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Midnight Ball

Pairing: Todoroki x reader

Warnings: None

Author’s Note:

Day two of Sugar’s Spooky Days/Fall Special

Hehehe I have managed to finish something! Can’t say as much for the Kirishima one, so that might have to be late :(. I should have that one done sometime over the weekend though, so fingers crossed!

I also may or may not have been thinking about Heartless by Marissa Meyer while I wrote that first bit 👀👀 (read it, it’s good, especially if you want to sob your eyeballs out like I did)

I hope you like this one! It was fun for me to write!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.

You had insisted on not coming to this party.

You, of course, had said this as if you had a choice. Really, as someone with your status, you should have the power to make decisions for yourself. But nooo, as the only daughter of the Marquess and Marchioness, it was your duty to attend the king’s bi-annual masquerade ball. Bother.

So, here you were, all dressed up with little intention to dance or even have fun. You clung to the sides of the spacious dancefloor, hoping to keep to yourself enough that no one would try to talk to you. It was truly dreadful what some of your fellow nobility could come up with for small talk. Exchanging formalities and remarking on politics, only then to run off into a tangent on whatever subject may have recently captured their trivial attention.

You longed to be elsewhere—in a library perhaps, or in your garden, working on sketches in your notebook. Gracious, come to think of it, maybe sleeping would even be the better option. It was dreadfully late.

The king always insisted on throwing such parties as these so late at night, stretching all the way to early hours of the morning. You’d gotten plenty of rest prior in preparation for this autumn Midnight Ball, but between the lack of meaningful interaction and your desire to be elsewhere, you found yourself capturing yawns in your gloved hand.

Your childhood best friend didn’t seem to have this problem. You could see her now, indigo skirts swishing around her ankles as she danced with some green haired man. You couldn’t quite tell if you had ever seen him before, but he was probably from some foreign kingdom. You’d certainly hear all about him tomorrow.

You began to grow antsy at your position on the west wall. Your heels were beginning to make your ankles ache, and your mask was growing progressively warmer with each breath. A glance towards the banquet table told you that the coast was clear for you to browse the selection of food laid out, but your corset made you think twice. Your handmaiden had done it so dreadfully tight.

Curses. Not to her, she had done nothing wrong. Maybe at your mother, who insisted on lacing it up in this way.

You chewed at your tongue. Maybe a walk in the courtyard would clear your head. It would definitely be cooler and not so bright. If you were lucky, you may even be alone.

Gathering your (F/C) skirts in your fists, you strode to the door to the outside, ducking through small gatherings of people and curtseying to the guards positioned at the exit. You knew you had made the right decision as soon as the night air hit your face, a cool October breeze seeping behind your mask and ruffling the feathers that adorned it. A full moon lit your path as you walked further into the manicured gardens. You’d been around here before, yet you still allowed yourself time to admire the hedges and trees closing off spaces of land. Flowerbeds were artfully placed wherever they could fit, although you could tell that most of their plentiful blooming yield had already gone back within themselves for the frosty winter. What you were truly interested in was a small pond located in the back, hidden behind a few bushes at its side.

The clear pool laid stagnant before you as you knelt down to look into it. The light of the moon bounced off your bejeweled costume mask, causing the water to sparkle even brighter beneath you. A large koi fish took notice of your signal, lazily sliding its stout, tri-colored body towards the surface in hopes that you may have brought it some food.

“I’m sorry, little friend,” you whispered to its expectant gaping mouth, “I don’t have anything for you.”

You watched him for another moment, little splashes made by the fish’s fins breaking the stillness of both the silent night air and the pool’s surface.

“You’ve upset him.”

The sound of an unfamiliar voice made you start. You straightened, brushing off the front of your skirt. Turning, you saw the figure of a man standing a few paces away from you. His build was lean and strong, and a mask of his own glittered in the all-encompassing moonlight. It was difficult to make out any identifying features, but a part of you just knew that he was intangibly handsome.

“Sorry?” you said, trying to compose yourself.

Perfect. This was just what you had been trying to avoid: interaction. Maybe he’d go easy on you and let you leave soon, or maybe he could have something genuinely worthwhile to say.

“That fish,” he clarified. “He’s hungry.”

You pursed your lips together in thought as you stole a glance back at the pond. Your koi friend had retreated back to the depths of his home as soon as you had turned your back. The air hummed with silence once more.

“Is he, though?” you asked. “He probably gets fed just as well as any other creature living on the grounds.”

The mysterious man shrugged. “True, but perhaps that’s the most joy he gets out of life.”

“Oh.” You stood there awkwardly for a second in silence, trying to think of a response. “That’s a little . . . grim.”

“Sorry.” He shifted. “I’ve always felt bad for fish.”

“How so?”

He took a step closer to the pond, bending a bit at the waist in order for him to see into it better. “They have less freedom. Little to do, nowhere to go . . . sometimes they remind me of myself a bit.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not terribly fond of my father.”

You blinked, wondering if he was going anywhere with this.

His eyes finally snapped up to yours. The moon caught their shades perfectly, drawing out hints of color that would normally be lost to their own depths. It struck you suddenly that you had seen these eyes before; one a steely silver while the other was a lovely cerulean that nearly seemed to glow. Where had you previously seen these eyes?

“Sorry,” he apologized again. “I didn’t mean to overstep.” He straightened up to properly face you, his posture rigid and practiced, just as you had seen all the other noblemen do your whole life. “My name is Shouto Todoroki, son of Duke Enji Todoroki,” he said, piercing eyes growing a little glassy at the voicing of his own name. He bowed to you, and around the top of his mask, you took notice of his perfectly split bi-colored hair. “My lady,” he said.

“Shouto?” Yes, that was right. You’d met him a few times as children, playing together while your families held council meetings. It had to have been nearly ten years since you’d seen him last, and to be honest, he’d grown into quite the man.

“Yes?” he answered, uncertain.

“It’s me,” you said, lifting your mask a bit to better show off your eyes and features in the dim light. “(F/N) (L/N).”

You watched as he did a double take; eyes scanning you from top to bottom as he put a name to your person. “(Y/N) . . . wow, it’s been a long time.”

You chuckled, fiddling with the material of your skirt between your fingers. “You’re not saying I’m old, now, are you?”

He snorted, his posture relaxing. “Of course not, my lady.”

You began to chat, settling in beside him as you wandered around the gardens together. It was only now that you realized how much you had missed your old friend, finding it shockingly easy to talk with him. He spoke of his father and how he intended for Shouto to take his place in power when his time came. You noted the bitterness he carried in his voice, vaguely remembering the emergence of the issue from the last time you’d conversed. He listened to your own life updates, interested in your hobbies and what you had to say about life and time. In fact, it nearly felt as if no time had passed at all, and you’d remained close throughout the years.

The light of the castle began to creep upon the path ahead of you, and you noticed that you’d circled the entire perimeter of the gardens. Music from the ballroom floated to your ears, and you recognized the tune. Influenced by your improved mood, you began to hum along to a few of the notes, nodding your head to the light, peppy rhythm.

Shouto took notice of this, eyeing you with a small smile gracing his usually stoic face. He sped up just enough to come up in front of you, causing you to halt in your tracks. He bowed before you again, one hand behind his back with the other outstretched for your own. “If I may, could I have this dance? This is your king’s ball, and I believe that my lady deserves at least one before the night’s end.”

An unexpected heat climbed to your cheeks. Why were you suddenly feeling this way? Your childhood friend had certainly grown into quite the handsome young man, but you couldn’t ever remember thinking of him in this manner. He’d only ever shown kindness and respect towards you, and it was only now beginning to weigh on you how much you liked him. But this weight wasn’t in any way unpleasant, in fact, it made you feel giddier, almost light and intrepid. What could one dance together hurt?

You rested your hand in his, the fabrics of your gloves sliding together as your fingers met. His head turned up so he could once again make eye contact, drawing your offered appendage to his lips. They brushed over your knuckles, feather light, and you found yourself wishing that the silken material could have been removed. How soft were his lips truly?

Shouto walked you a few paces away onto an open area in the grass, the fragrance of greenery and crisp evening air wafting through the space. Every surface was bathed in a fine layer of moonlight, giving the world a dark, silvery glow. Shouto’s skin gleamed pale and resembled porcelain, eyes shining behind the contrasting shadows of his mask.

With your palm in his, he guided you closer to him, his other hand alighting on the small of your back.

“The moon highlights your beauty remarkably so. I’ve never felt this . . . enamored by someone.”

You shivered at his words, the gentle intensity of his gaze boring into you. You began to fall into step with the music wavering in the background. The cheerful rhythm made your heart soar as you glided over the grass with your partner. He led you through some practiced steps, others entirely new. Your skirts swirled around your ankles, adding an extra flare to each of your movements. The sound of the hidden orchestra was distant and thin, and yet there was such a feeling that instilled through you, almost as if the music had seeped all the way to your marrow.

You watched as Shouto’s face began to relax into a little smile, twirling you this way, dipping you over his strong arm, pulling you back into his chest. The whole ordeal took your breath away, and even in the cool night air, your cheeks began to ignite in a palpable warmth of their own. Time slowed, and it was as though you’d been his dance partner for centuries, finding a rhythm and flowing together as one.

That is, until a shooting pain fired through your ankle, causing you to gasp and stumble. Shouto caught and steadied you in his arms before you could fall very far, worry clouding over his face.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

You grimaced, shifting your weight on your feet. “It’s my heels,” you explained. “Sorry. They’re not the most . . . practical.”

“Here,” Shouto said, offering you his arm. “Take them off. You don’t need them out here.”

Your face heated once again as you leaned on his outstretched appendage, fishing around in your skirts until you found your foot. Within moments, you were free, feet bare in their thin tights, discarded shoes unbuckled and placed neatly aside on the grass. The both of you found a stone bench nearby, and you sat side by side to help ease the strain on your feet. While you took this bit of a breather, you remarked to yourself how much taller Shouto was compared to you. The sight of how much he’d grown over the years, mixed with this newfound urge to rest your head against his broad chest . . . .

“Are you feeling better now, my lady?”

(Y/N). Your name was (Y/N). He could have just as easily called you as such, and yet, the formality set your heart aflutter.

“Yes, I believe I am. Actually, I’m feeling much better. This party was so dull until you happened upon me.”

Shouto’s smile returned, the slightest shine appearing on his upturned lips. “I haven’t enjoyed myself this much in a long time either. Thank you for accepting my offer to dance.”

You hummed and flashed him a genuine grin of your own.

He averted his eyes suddenly, a new tension gripping his shoulders. “I know we haven’t talked in years,” he began, “but if you didn’t mind, I would like to get to know you again, (Y/N). Our kingdoms aren’t too distant, and I would like to write to you sometime when I return home.”

Your smile widened. “That sounds lovely. I’d love to keep in touch with you.” You let your hand wander over to his, taking it up in your fingers.

Shouto smiled again at your touch, raising your joined palms to press another kiss to your knuckles. “I look forward to your response,” he said, lips brushing against your gloved fingers as he spoke, eyes locked on yours.

You could still hear the band playing in the ballroom. To the king, the night was still young, and the party would continue for some time longer. Within moments, you were on your feet again with him, twirling your body to the tempo of the strings and winds. With stars serving as your only audience, you danced with your newfound partner until the early hours of the morning under the light of a full hanging moon.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.

Taglist: @aahilovetheatre @heartpaw12 @todoroki-waifu @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

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spideymybucky · 4 years ago

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An Arrow in the Heart

Greek/Roman mythology Au

Tom Holland x Reader

Tom Holland as Eros.

Reader - Y’all see soon.

A/n: Hello my dear people, welcome to my new story. It’s based on a screenplay i wrote but wanted to people to read it. I hope you like it. Its gonna have more action than this. This is kind of like the prologue, so yea.... Lets start.

Part 0: The beginning of life

(Y/n) never imagined she’d hate her life. She always felt that she was meant for greatness, that she was important, but, little by little, this went fleeting her mind. Now she’s in college, trying to pay attention while glancing at her watch every thirty seconds. She knew that if she were late, all hell would break loose.

Her professor, Mr. Brown, kept talking about their grades and how it was essential to finish with time for revision, as he would not use his free time to counsel students. He kept writing on the black chalkboard and laughing at his jokes—all slow and monotonous, with no spark of excitement.

“I know I’ve exceeded my time, but just bear with me for a minute…” He opened his presentation, dragging down the white background, and putting on the final project’s instructions. (Y/n) looked at the blinking red numbers, it stated 4:05, and at that exact time, her phone turned on with a notification. Ariti Restaurant - Shift starts at 5 pm. Mr.Brown started talking again, all about the project and, right there and then, she knew she was going to be late. Tardiness was never her parents’ favorite attribute of the “new” generation.

“Fucking hell…” She mumbled under her breath. She took one last glance at the clock, that had changed from 4:05 to 4:15 and decided to leave the class. She didn’t want to face her mother’s wrath. She grabs her stuff and goes quietly. She runs out of the building and to the street. She then proceeds to walk fast towards the nearest station. She stops at a crosswalk and looks at the red sign as the cars passed. Her phone chimed this time, she looked at it, and it stated 4:30. She was going to be late, horribly. She should have left minutes ago.

The crosswalk turns green, and she bolts two blocks down. She then proceeds to get to the station, run down the stairs, past the ticket, and enter. She looks for the red lane, it’s to the left, and runs as fast as her feet could take her. She gets to the platform just in time for the doors to close, and a few seconds later, the train to leave.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” she mumbled under her breath.

(Y/n) stairs at it, heaving as she lets go of her stuff. She turns around and sees a bench, where she proceeds to sit down. God, her mother was going to kill her. She turns on her phone and texts her.

(Y/n): I’m going to be a bit late, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.

She turned down her phone and picked up her journal, where she had various drawing of moments in history that resonated with her, moments she didn’t even know could exist and people she had never met. All had the same feeling, that she had experienced them. A dejavu moment, that had never left her brain. She turned to her last drawing, a white pristine dress adorned a woman, who was holding a sword, next to her a black suited man, who had a box in his hands. It felt familiar yet distant, like something she had seen somewhere. She continued drawing, outlining the woman's hair, she still didn’t have er features defined.

The train came a few minutes later and she got it. It speed out of the platform and into the view of the city. Her phone, which she had on her hand, started vibrating intensely.

Mother: Where are you?

Mother: don't ignore my texts.

Mother: We are going to be late because of you.

Father: Answer your mother's texts, Cythera Cyprus.

Mother: If we miss your brother's game, I won't ever forgive

you.

Father: We expected better from you. Tardiness is not who we

are, Cytherea.

Father: If you don't prioritize your responsibilities, then

why bother coming?

With each text coming through her phone lit up, making her annoyed. She only wanted some peace and quite, for just a moment. She turns enter her phone and looks at her response. It hadn't been sent, she pressed the small red circle with an exclamation point, and to options came out, send/delete. She tries to send it again, and to her luck, the message goes through.

(Y/n) runs in through the back door, of the kitchen. She grabs an apron, hanging on the backside of the wall and puts it on. Her name tag with a miss-spelled name, not even that her parents got right. She grabs a receipt and starts cutting the lettuce, she finishes and proceeds to get the chicken and the pita bread. Her mother strides in, an annoyed look on her face. She looks at what her daughter is doing and rolls her eyes.

“You’re are doing it wrong and you’re late.” Her rough voice called out.

“I'm sorry, it won't happen again. My class ended a bit late today and i just- it was the final project-” The woman, about 55 years old with a frown upon her face, rolls her eyes and scoffs at her.

“I don't like excuses, you should’ve left earlier, I don’t care about your project. Now I’m going to be late.” (Y/n) finishes the Chicken Pita bread and turns around, grabbing a tray and putting the plate on. She grabs a the green drink that comes along and a hummus spread, with pita bread on the side.

“I’m sorry ok? I swear, it wont happen again.” With another disdain look, her mother got out of the way. A small sigh left her lips before a fake smile spread on her face. She read the receipt, table 5, and went there.

“What took so long? I ordered this a while ago.” A frazzled woman raised her voice. She smiled at her politely.

“I know ma’am, we had some problems in the kitchen but we brought you a side of hummus and pita bread on the house.” The lady nodded and continued looking at her phone. (Y/n) left the food and moved to another customer, her mother eyeing her from the side table. She grabbed some more orders and rang up a costumer, where her mother intervened and checked twice if she was doing it right. It was horrible, overbearing and annoying but if she said something, she would be doomed.

“I’m leaving” Her mom announced while she was making more hummus. She turned around and nodded at her. “I expect nothing less than a squeaky clean place and two thousand on the register. I already counted, we have 1950.”

“But its payday, we gotta pay Danny.” She turned around and looked at the cook, a quite 40-year-old man with a sketchy background but didn’t expect to wrok for more than the minimum wage. Her mother hired him on the spot, she was a cheap person.

“I don’t (Y/n), figure it out. I don’t care pay dani and leave the rest.” She nodded and looked at her mother leave, with her hair pressed up and the latest boots that were trending. Sometimes she wonders why they had her. Was it because of pity? Was it because they expected her to be a boy? She just wanted to finish everything, get the restaurant and leave. She’d manage it from for away, from somewhere her parents couldn’t bother her.

Closing time came and before she knew it, she handed Dani his money. He preferred cash not check. She put the chair up on the table and turned all the light out. She smiled at Dani, who opened the glass door and left. She looked at everything one last time, making sure she didn’t miss anything and turned around. She closed the door, locked it and took a step forwarded before she fell to the ground. Her heart was hurting. Was she going to die? What the hell was happening?

“Help, fucking help.” She screamed or tried too. She was to young to die, she wanted more form like. She looked down and saw a golden arrow coming out of her chest and she started panicking again.

“Holy shit, holy shit holy shit.” She repeated to herself. She looked up and saw a man passing her, as if nothing was wrong. “FOR GOD SAKE, HELP ME PLEASE.” She screamed on more time, then the golden arrow disappeared but the feeling of dying didn't. She stayed kneeling on the floor, grabbing her chest, and heaving. Death really was coming. God, if I ever come back as something else, I’m really going to live life this time. She saw a pair of black boots coming closer. They were leather, she was sure of it. She looked up and saw a frizzled man, curly hair, defined jaw-line and a frown upon his face. Yet, all she could feel was love and desire for him.

WHAT THE FUCK WAS HAPPENING TO HER?

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x fem #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland mcu #MCU #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland x original character

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georgemackayhey · 5 years ago

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Lean On Me

"Can you do something with both George and Dean maybe like seeing the reader cry and comforting her?" "Hiii, could you write a George x reader where they’ve been dating for a while and he’s jealous of her. Love your writing"

Right, so I've gone on and combined these requests because I failed to think up two separate ideas. So here's this monster! Thanks for askin' y'all! Enjoy ♡

w/c: 5k

───※ ·❆· ※───

"We're officially not unofficial!" You announced, clinking your second glass of wine against Dean's tumbler full of whiskey.

You'd been cast as costars in an indie rom-com, and were staying in the middle of nowhere Ireland for a month, to begin filming. Tonight you'd been shown to your separate motel rooms but wound up sharing a drink in yours, catching up and enjoying each others company before tomorrow's first big shoot. And since you'd been seeing George, it didn't take Dean long to ask how his friend was doing.

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean let out a bright chuckle before taking a swig of his preferred alcohol.

"Well as you know, George is off filming in the US and I'm stuck here, filming with you." You pulled a face but broke out into laughter before your playful disgust could be read. You adored Dean, and there weren't many people you'd rather be stuck in a dingy motel with.

"Before he left two days ago, we agreed not to see anyone else while we're both so busy. And to keep seeing each other when he's back." You rambled. Dean shifted on his side of the love seat as you shared a drink and conversation.

"Really?" Dean's eyes winded as his smile grew, causing a blush to appear on your cheeks.

"Yeah," You grinned. "I know he wanted to take things slow before diving into a serious relationship, but it sounds like he's ready to pick up the pace." You informed although you figured Dean already knew. They were already the best of friends when you'd come into the picture.

"I'm going to tell you something." Dean leaned in a little closer as if someone might have been listening in. You brought your glass of wine to your lips to prepare for what he might say.

"George has some pretty serious feelings for you. But he's been burned before. There have been one too many girls who wanted him for all the wrong reasons." Dean went on like an older brother, though he was quite the opposite, "The fact that he's mentioned getting more serious with you is a big deal. I hope you're ready for that because I think you're perfect together. But if you're not-"

"I am, Dean. The last thing I want is to hurt George and I swear to you I won't let that happen." You traced an X over your heart and gave your friend a stern nod, the best promise you had to show.

Your friend snorted a laugh but returned your serious nod as you both silently agreed to have George's best interest at heart.

___

"Action!" Your director shouted through a laugh as you sucked in a deep breath. You were placed at the end of a foothill where the damp grass caused you to slip every time you tried a new take.

Luckily the director got a kick out of your silly little mishap and you'd stopped laughing enough yourself to try the take again for the fourth time.

Dean was standing amongst the rubble of a halfway demolished castle, waiting for you to run into his arms. Your first day of shooting was focused on the climax of the film, and it wasn't hard for either of you to fake years of chemistry for the camera as you'd been friends behind the scenes for months now.

That's why when you finally nailed running into his open arms, prepared to be swept off your feet, you kept on laughing when his foot slipped, sending you both to the dirt.

"You weren't supposed to do that!" You laughed. "We finally almost had it! I was depending on you." You fake cried, while Dean apologized through bouts of laughter.

"Take ten, we'll suss it out!" Our director laughed while a small crew scurried to help you up and clean up your costumes of dust.

After finally getting the final shoot right, you were sent off to change and grab dinner with the rest of the crew.

The middle of nowhere Ireland didn't have much to offer, so the company you kept became even more valuable.

Behind Dean, you followed the director and his wife into an unassuming pub, where you ordered drinks. You sat close together and spoke about what you'd gotten right on set and how you hoped for scenes in the future to turn out, now that you'd started bringing your characters to life.

When your extra-large drinks came, you took a selfie with the pints and followed Dean's strict orders to text the photo to George.

"Tell him I love him and wish that he was my leading lady, instead." Dean teased.

"Well, we'll just see if I catch you when you slip up next time!" You feigned offense while you formed a text to George. Under the photo of you and his dear friend, you wrote:

You're missing all the fun! But I'm missing you more. Hope your day on set is going well xx

You hadn't quite reached the heart-eye emoji stage, with George, but all you wanted to do was flood his message thread with sappy saying. Delivering all your romantic lines today was made easier if you thought of saying them to George. You couldn't wait for the film to end so that you might have the chance to actually kick off what you'd started with the man.

You met George at the Golden Globes, at one of the after-parties. Your agent knew his and you'd been wanting to congratulate the stars of such a groundbreaking film, anyhow. George and Dean were sort of a packaged deal that night, but by some miracle, you'd been left with George to finish off your free cocktails and talk about how the music was much too loud.

You went home with a funny feeling in your chest, thankful that you got to spend an hour chatting away with the handsome man, knowing you'd only gotten extremely lucky.

But not long after then, you met George again. He was all alone in a coffee shop on the lot of a studio you'd both been filming on opposite sides of. He offered you a seat across the tiny table from him, where you sipped your drinks and dove into conversation like you'd known each other for years before then.

That was the day you realized you had feelings for George, when you swore his bright eyes lingered on your lips. When he asked if you were going to some silly Hollywood party. You said yes, even though you hadn't planned on it before then.

That's how things kept going with George, for a while. You'd run into each other at events and waste the rest of those evenings sharing passing thoughts and strong opinions. Around the third or fourth run in, you got the guts to compliment his suits and the way he laughed. He finally invited you to a party you wouldn't have otherwise known about.

It was someone's birthday, and every surface of their mansion had been turned into a minibar. Dean was there, and when George left you two to find some drinks that weren't just straight vodka, Dean asked what was going on between you and his best mate. George had clearly been smitten, but you'd yet to discuss anything like that with each other.

With a push from Dean, George asked you on a Sunday morning stroll along the lake, your first official date, both glad to finally be able to call what you'd been doing more than "hanging out." That was the day you'd found out about each other's upcoming films. When George held your hand on the park bench. When you agreed to keep seeing each other when you'd finished all your work. Agreeing to keep up as many late-night chats as you possibly could, while you were worlds apart.

___

You woke up not so long after you'd fallen asleep to your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You worried you'd missed your morning alarms but a new sort of excitement took over your nerves when you realized George was calling.

"Hello?" You answered, happily snuggling back into your motel bed.

"I'm sorry, love did I wake you?" George worried, his use of a pet name causing your heart to flip.

"Well yeah, but I'm glad you did. We aren't filming until tomorrow afternoon. How's America, then?" You wondered, peering out of the crack in your curtains. The night was dark, and the light from the motel sign reflected off of the crew's cars in the lot. You heard laughter in the distance and wondered what kind of fun you were missing out on.

"It's nice. We're actually ahead of schedule. I might not be here as long as I planned." George spoke up, and you thought you heard him smile.

"Is that good news?" You wondered. He seemed so excited to head off overseas and start working again, even if his role was only small.

"I think so. Means I'm closer to getting to see you." George said, his voice was warmer and more inviting than all the blankets you were currently wrapped up in.

"That's very good news indeed, then!" You grinned. "But you know I think Dean misses you most of all, and that's really saying something." You joked, thinking about all the conversations you'd had about George since you'd been filming together.

George's delicate laughter was music to your ears. He asked you to send his sappiest greetings to Dean and the pair of you went on telling stories about your days on set. George seemed to be getting on with his castmates and enjoying his work. You were glad to hear it and made sure he knew that you and Dean were having the best of times as well.

You wanted to end the call with George by expressing how dearly you missed him, but something stopped you. Maybe it was your conversation with Dean from before when he warned you how cautious George was to move too quickly in relationships. You figured keeping in touch while so far apart counted for a lot, and settled for wishing George a happy sleep before you hung up to shut your eyes again.

___

As you wrapped up filming in Ireland, you and Dean had become rather inseparable. Since you'd been acting alongside each other almost exclusively, you were a little nervous how filming back in London was going to go. There was a new set of cast members to finish filming with, and you and Dean had developed some kind of secret language you worried might seem off-putting to everyone else.

You didn't want to be the costar known for picking favorites, so you tried your utmost to get on just as well with the folks meant to play your family members and friends.

That meant spending time off the set, going to dinner and hosting game nights when the chance arose. Granted, you and Dean often paired up to beat everyone at Monopoly, you were still succeeding in getting on with everyone.

"Tomorrow is the big fight scene. I just don't think I can punch you in the face, Dean." The actress playing your older sister laughed, reaching over to pinch Dean's cheek.

"Good, 'cause you're not really supposed too." Dean laughed, shooing her hand away. You laughed at their antics as you flitted off to the kitchen to find another beer.

Your phone had been left on the counter, and you noticed it lighting up as you stepped past the refrigerator.

You narrowly missed a call from George, his profile photo filling up your screen. When the call went dead, you noticed he'd tried to call once before then.

"Oh shit, it is Friday, isn't it?" You worried. As you and George each found the swing of your days on set, you figured Friday nights were the best time to check in on each other. But tonight you'd been so wrapped up in enjoying a night off at Dean's flat with your castmates, that you'd left your phone in the other room.

You pressed the call back button and scurried off to the back patio where you wouldn't be bothered.

"Hello love! Everything alright?" George asked. Because even though you'd agreed to call each other once a week, you'd started texting silly little updates to each other throughout most other days. And you hadn't done that at all today.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry I've been away. We've just been enjoying the rare day off."

"Ah, yeah that's alright." George was quick to assure you but you didn't miss the way his voice fell a little flat. But before you could go on apologizing, he spoke up again.

"I'm flying back home tomorrow morning." He spoke, and now he sounded as if he were on the verge of bursting out into excitable screams.

"Tomorrow morning?" You grinned. That was a week earlier than he'd been planning.

"We finished everything today and I've booked the soonest flight back. I can't wait to see you." George cooed through the phone line.

With all your might, you held back squeals and confirmed that you were just as excited to finally see him again, as well. Thought you'd started things off at an awkward time, your feeling for George blossomed more every day. Between flirty texts and late-night phone calls that lasted as long as they could with completely different schedules, you'd fallen head over heels for George.

He made you laugh, even all the way across the ocean. He would ask genuine and thoughtful questions and he'd never hold back from giving you his own honest and meaningful answers. You practically melted through the slots of the patio board when you ended your phone call with "See you tomorrow, darling!"

___

"That's a wrap for today!"

"Holy shit, I'm so glad we got that on the first take." You shivered. It was a little too cold to pretend to enjoy yourself in a swimming pool.

Dean was by your side next thing you knew, offering a robe from the costume lady who was sewing up another actor's tuxedo.

"Just think, all the hard parts are over. Only a few more days left of easy shooting!" Your friend held open the robe as you slid your arms in as a frown pulled at your lips.

"Don't remind me! I don't know what I'll do when all the fun is over." You pouted like a kid and dramatically threw yourself against Dean in a hug you couldn't manage while keeping your hands tucked under your arms. Your friend ran his hands along your shoulder with a laugh as you shivered, but the extra bit of warmth didn't last long.

"Oh my God!" Dean chirped, shoving you away from him all of a sudden. Just before you had time to shout at him for being rude, you noticed what caught his attention.

George! There he was, dressed in dark jeans and cozy sweater, happily chatting away with your agent before Dean got to him. The men shared a happy greeting and a warm hug as you hurried to do the same.

You shoved Dean away like he'd done to you, with a playful "Ha!," and practically threw yourself at George.

He was strong, effortlessly scooping you into his embrace and giving you a small spin from the momentum you'd gained. You'd never greeted each other so enthusiastically, but somehow now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"You're here!" You realized as George set you on your feet again.

"When you told me you'd be done round five I figured I'd just swing by." He explained, keeping one of his hands gently wrapped around your waist. You weren't very cold any more.

"I missed you." You beamed, soaking up how close he finally was, after so long. George returned your sentiments as you both stood together, enjoying nothing more for a beat.

"I just need to change, then we can get going, yeah?" You shrugged, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your still-damp bathing suit under the itchy robe. Before you parted, you'd somehow made plans to go get dinner, and Dean was invited along.

"I did miss him too." George shot you a playful face as he moved to find where Dean had gone off too, leaving you to go change. You'd never flown in and out of the makeup trailer faster, sliding your clothes on and checking your face in the mirror before walking out onto the lot calm and cool.

You were totally anxious to finally get to spend time with George, but you hadn't forgotten what Dean mentioned about moving too fast.

You found both men in the car lot laughing together. They both turned their heads to see you approach, smiles widening, somehow.

"Ah, my boys. Let's go eat." You laughed, shooting Dean a look at George grabbed your hand in his.

___

You wound up at a posh Italian place, sat in the curve of a big red booth under George's arm. Dean was nearer the opposite curve, leaning a in a little closer to show George a bunch of dumb pictures the two of you had accumulated on set for the past couple of moths.

"Can I tell him about Taco Bell?" Dean choked back a laugh and looked at you with pleading eyes.

"I guess." You smiled after a beat. One night, not so long ago, you and Dean got plastered beyond belief and wandered to the nearest Taco Bell on foot. Their diner was closed, but their drive-through was open, and you had no choice but to try and walk up to the order box and try your luck. No one would respond, but Dean swore he saw workers avoiding your drunken rambles through the windows. The adventure ended with you having burst into tears, somehow deciding the Taco Bell was purgatory, drunkenly crying into the drive-through box. It made Dean laugh so hard he vomited next to the bins in the parking lot, and the pair of you got sternly asked to leave.

Not your finest hour, but certainly one of many memories from the highlight reel you and Dean had spent the early spring creating together. And it was Dean doing most of the talking tonight.

You spent your time snuggled close to George's side. His hand rested on your thigh while you buried your face in your hands at the end of each of Dean's stories.

George sat back, listened and laughed, and made fun of both of you along the way. You and Dean were in the middle of arguing over the details of your first petty fight when the check came.

"I have been missing out." George took the last swig of his drink.

"Well, we're glad to have you back mate. I better get going, though." Dean explained that he had a meeting with his agent before your day on set started tomorrow. When you all made your way out of the restaurant, you hugged Dean goodbye, calling him some silly nickname you coined in Ireland. He pulled a face at you, waved to George leaving the two of you alone for the first time in ages.

"I'd hate for the night to end, already." George gave you a convincing set of puppy dog eyes, but you didn't need convincing.

"It doesn't have to!" You spoke rather quickly. "We could go back to mine and watch a film or something."

You offered a bashful shrug, hoping your excitable offer wasn't too forward.

But before you knew it, you were leading George into your studio flat, offering him something to drink as you flipped on a few lights on the way.

Tea was in order. You leaned against the kitchen island while George leaned against the counter, delving into conversation like you did best. He'd asked about some of the pictures you had framed of your family and friends, and you asked about his.

When the kettle rang and you filled two cups and asked George what he was most excited about being back home.

"I'm just glad to finally be with you." He informed, reaching out to pull you closer with the gentles tug at the hem of your shirt. He was a lot more affectionate than you remembered, but you certainly weren't complaining.

"I wish I'd spent all month having all that fun in Taco Bell purgatory with you." George joked, hooking one of his impossibly strong arms around your waist.

"George Mackay, are you a little jealous?" You laughed unbelievably, shoving your cup of tea a little further from you.

"Dean has gotten to kiss you more than I have, yet." George gave a little shrug as his bright blue eyes searched your face. If he was actually bothered, but the tiny smirk on his lips made you believe otherwise.

"Why don't we get up to speed, then, huh?" You rose a brow, resting one of your hands on George's sharp jaw. He didn't waste another second before diving into a kiss that left you breathless.

You expected your first kiss with George to be gentle and soft, just like him. But this kiss was fierce and hot and his hands were pushing your shoulders against the wall. And his lips only left yours to travel down your neck.

Your tea went cold that night.

___

You plopped into Dean's lap for the first shoot of the day. A rush of gratitude swooped over you, glad that you'd been able to work with someone you cared for so deeply.

"For someone who claims to know his best friend so well, you sure were off the mark." You playfully jabbed Dean in the ribs. He shot you a curious glare as a boom mic was being switched out for another.

"Do I even wanna know?" Dean chuckled, gazing up at you.

"All I'm saying, is he definitely didn't seem to care for taking things very slow last night." You proudly hinted as Dean let out an understanding yet mortified laugh. Some of your castmates were trickling onto set as your director checked behind the camera.

"He was totally jealous of all the time we've been spending together." You laughed, picking a piece of lint off the actor's sweater.

Dean's smile faltered as the director called action. Your friend's arms wrapped around your waist as you went on pretending to be in love.

After a long day of hard work, you and Dean started off in the direction of the makeup trailer. You'd kept one arm slung around his shoulders as he went on yammering about the last scene you shot.

George had decided to surprise you on set for the second day in a row, this time with a coffee for you and Dean, each.

"Awe, would ya look at that, we've got our own personal gofer." You laughed, looking at Dean as he gently slipped out from under your arm to accept George's kind offer. The labels on the cups were from a tiny bakery down the street from your set, but you didn't think much of it until you took a sip.

"Oh my God." You looked up to George with starry eyes. You wouldn't have cared what he ordered you, but he somehow got it exactly right. "How'd you know my favorite order from this place?"

You'd never been to the bakery with George before, and you couldn't remember a time you'd mentioned it to him. He really was the perfect boyfriend.

"I asked Dean," George admitted with a smile. You thanked him with a kiss on the cheek, and when you turned to do the same to Dean, he was gone.

___

You spent the rest of the week acting your heart out during the day and decompressing in the evening with George between movie marathons and dinner dates.

He was always checking in, making sure you were comfortable and always excited to experience new things with you. And you made sure George knew just how glad you were for his company. And especially charmed by the fact that he could never keep his hands off you. When you sat watching old tv shows he would trace patterns against your knee. He kept an arm around you as you walked the streets and always greeted you with a kiss.

Today, that's how he left you on set, with a sweet peck on your temple and a few words of encouragement. It was your last day, and you just weren't ready to say goodbye to everyone.

The last scene to shoot was of you and Dean, alone together in the isle of a convenience store. Your characters were meant to be having their first big fight, when a song comes over the loudspeakers neither of them can resist dancing along, bickering all the while.

It took you a couple of takes with the director suggesting different approaches, but it was over in the blink of an eye, Dean's character delivering the final line, while you were instructed to keep lazily dancing. After the director called cut, someone turned up the music and everyone cheered as your time together drew to a close.

You danced your way closer, throwing your arms around Dean in celebration.

"You've been the best castmate in the world! Thanks for putting up with me this long Dean. On and off set." You nodded, feeling your heart begin to ache. Dean hugged you back, offering similar sentiments, but unusually, something in Dean's tone fell flat.

You gave him an extra squeeze before he slinked off toward his trailer. While everyone else was offering goodbye hugs, you wondered if Dean wasn't keen to show how sad he was too. You shook it off and went on thanking the rest of the cast and crew for such a wonderful production.

The wrap party was later in the evening, but you left a big part of your heart on the set that was being torn down on your ride home.

___

George made it a bit hard for you to slip all the way into your party dress with the way he kept slipping it right back off. But with a little luck, you straightened his collar and dragged him out the door in the nick of time to party the night away.

The wrap party was at a nightclub where a live band was playing. As you slipped past drink stations and loudspeakers with George's hand in yours, you were reminded of when you met. How you'd keep running into each other on nights like these.

You held his hand a little tighter as the thought passed your mind and smiled up at him like a loon as he moved closer to your side.

"I'm glad you're here with me." You spoke up past the music.

"Me too." George grinned, leaning to place a kiss on your temple.

Your cast members bombarded you with hugs when they noticed you'd made it, asking for selfies and handing out drinks.

When you turned to look for George he'd found Dean and you were glad to skip toward them.

"Long time no see." You joked, sitting perfectly between the two of them.

"I can't believe it's over." Dean shook his head and cast a look to you.

"Yeah, but we still have press tour! And the premieres." You reminded, lifting your glass to your lips.

"Yeah." Dean smiled like he was glad, but you knew him better than that. Now was the time when he'd dream up some wild scenario he hoped would happen as you traveled to advertise for your new film. Or surely at the very least crack a joke.

You almost wanted to ask if he was okay, as he'd been totally reserved for a couple of days in a row. Of course, you knew he was probably just as sad for the production to wrap, but something was off. You could just tell.

___

Dean was weird during the entire press tour. He kept getting increasingly weirder as the days went by. And it was hard to pretend you weren't bothered. You called George every night, begging him to check up on Dean, make sure he was alright, get him to tell what he wouldn't tell you.

Over the past couple of months, you and Dean had grown inseparable and after the film, that changed. You knew your closeness couldn’t have been an act. You knew Dean made genuine connections with people he cared about. He was still close to George after their film had ended. Why was he suddenly so cold to you?

When you did interviews together, it was almost like it used to be, suppressing snickers and sharing secrets through the rise of an eyebrow.

But on the bus and out to dinner, Dean kept his distance. He still spoke with you and asked about your life, but it was like he'd severed himself off from your connection. By the time you got home, you hoped leaving him alone for a week and getting back to normal would make things better.

But the morning of the premiere, you'd had all you could take. You and Dean were just leaving a hotel conference room after the last of a dozen interviews.

Dean walked a few paces behind you on your way out to the lobby. George was there, waiting to take you to some celebratory lunch before you were meant to start getting ready. He was all smiles, happily greeting you with a warm hug. He started to say something about how excited he was to take you out when you noticed Dean brush by, headed for the door.

"Uh, give me a second." You decided all of a sudden, leaving George in the small waiting area so you could catch your castmate before he reached the hotel doors.

"Dean! Wait." You demanded, fed up with how strangely he'd been acting. You couldn't possibly show up to the premiere tonight without at least trying to make things better.

You had to chase him out of the revolving doors, but when you reached the pavement, Dean was shocked enough by your low tone to stop and face you. You finally had his full attention, thank God.

"Are you okay? Have I upset you, somehow? Did I do something? Please tell me what's wrong." You begged, your throat started to close, but you managed to press the words out in time. As you spoke, Dean's face changed.

His eyes left yours, cast to the floor, and flicked up to somewhere behind you.

"Please talk to me." You begged in a hush. You didn't care about anyone passing by who might have looked at you funny.

"I-I'm sorry. No, I'm not upset with you. I never meant to make you think that." Dean explained in a low manner.

"Then what's going on?" You asked, worried by how reluctant he was to say anything.

"I didn't want to be in the way." Dean started, searching your face. "You and I had gotten so close and when George got back I felt like I was breaking some kind of boundary." Dean sighed, waving a hand as he cleared the air. And right on time, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed George stepping out of the revolving doors to find you.

"I was only trying not to hurt his feelings." Dean finalized. All the while, you tried taking a step closer to your friend. He took a step back.

"Well, you're hurting mine." You batted back, feeling tears sting your eyes. You were much too overwhelmed by the interaction to keep talking to Dean.

As George approached the pair of you, you grabbed his hand and spun around to the other end of the pavement. You heard Dean call your name to try and stop you, but you were already around the corner to where George's car had been parked.

George hurried behind the wheel but didn't start the engine. He leaned gently toward where you settled back against the passenger seat, defeated. You sucked in a sharp breath, determined not to totally lose your cool.

"What's happened?" George worried in a high pitch. One of his warm hands wrapped around your shoulder as you tried understanding everything Dean had just explained to you.

"He finally told me what his problem was and," You let out a humorless laugh as a tear escaped. "And I guess I just wasn't expecting it."

"Oh love," George barely whispered, lifting a finger to wipe your tear away.

"I think... he thinks you're jealous of him? Or at least he was afraid of our friendship coming across as something it wasn't, in your eyes. So he just shut me out. I guess it's nice he cares for you that much huh?" You let out another small, watery laugh.

George had that adorably confused look on his face, casting his pretty eyes into yours.

"That's what he’s been worried over?" George seemed just as confused as you had been. He'd never been able to get a read on Dean, any time George had tried to talk to him about how strangely he'd been acting.

And you knew George wasn't jealous, not of Dean. He asked to hear all of the fun stories you had about Dean while you'd been working together. George seemed delighted that his friend cared for you so deeply. You knew that.

George reassured you that was the case, admitting he might have been a little jealous of missing out on all the fun, but not of Dean.

You'd calmed down a bit, with the help of George's sweet, gentle talk. He reassured that you weren't silly for crying, and then he took you to lunch. As you fueled up for a long exciting night, George insisted that he would knock some sense into his dear friend and that you'd get back to being just as close in no time.

___

The pair of you got all dolled up, painted for a premier. George's suit complimented your dress and you confessed you were totally madly in love with him. Maybe it was too soon, but it was just the right time, all things considered. George returned your sentiments with a light in his eyes and a smile on his face and everything was almost perfect.

You piled into George's car and drove to the studio where a limo was waiting to escort you and Dean to the premier. You were a packaged deal tonight, and he never invited a date.

Thank God Dean was already waiting at the studio for you, and early. George was able to pull him aside as your agent fussed over a bunch of silly questions. Your director still hadn't shown up by the time George and Dean reappeared before you, both wearing relaxed smiles.

"I'm sorry I never really talked to you. I shouldn't have ghosted you like that." Dean approached, looking dapper in his navy blue suit.

"Never do it again. Yell at me next time, I can take it." You swore, nodding in his direction. Dean rolled his eyes as his smile grew and all the tension between you fizzled away.

"So are we finally back to normal? I want to have game night and I need you on my Monopoly team." You fell back into a familiar banter, longing to make plans with your friend.

"I can't play a single board game without you. We share one brain cell, I think" Dean reached out, grabbing your shoulder to pull you into a hug, a real, meaningful one. You could have cried again just knowing he would be there to make fun of you for being so emotional.

"Yeah well, you're gonna need it because I'm the best Monopoly player in the British Isles." George sauntered up to the pair of you, seemingly very serious. You let out a loud chuckle as your embrace with Dean ended.

And when you piled into the limo between the two people you cared most about, you wondered how you'd gotten so lucky. It was official, everything was picture perfect.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic #dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman fanfic #dean charles chapman imagine

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tireddork-knight · 4 years ago

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Luck

Hello to anyone reading this! This is the first time I’m actually posting one of my writings. It’s not perfect especially since I kept on changing the story maybe 5 times but I tried my best! This is for @geekandbooknerd ‘s 1K celebration. Sorry it took me so long to finish, it’s been years since I actually wrote anything but this was a lot of fun to write so thank you for giving me the chance to do this. I apologize if it seems rushed.

(Y/N)- your name, (r/c)- random color, (Y/T/N)- your thief name

Warnings: none that I can think of maybe a slight bit of steam at the end. I tried keeping it pure

I am thinking of making this a short series. I do not own Spider-man just the original characters that are named in here (TM, V and Cherry).

Anyways, ENJOY!!!

“You should do the job they said. It’ll be easier for you, they said!” I whisper yelled to myself. Squatting behind a statue I waited for the security guard to pass the hallway. Why did I agree to be the one to do this. Looking down at my watch I cursed under my breath knowing that time was flying by the longer I waited. Carefully looking up to see where the guard was I felt a breath of relief escape me as I watched him leave.

Slowly getting up and moving towards the exhibit's entrance I double check that I’m alone. Scanning the floor-way I find the object of my mission, The Gem of a Lost Civilization, in the center of the floor. I feel my jaw drop just looking at it. Knowing I only have a handful of minutes before the guard comes back I make my way to it. Avoiding the cameras in the room. I try to think back on what TM had said about the security for this.

~“Security is gonna be airtight. And I mean like no escaping Azkaban airtight-” TM began.

“Didn’t Sirius Black escape Azkaban?” Cherry asked interrupting TM, seeing the look on everyone’s faces she flushed, “sorry”.

“As I was saying it’s gonna be airtight, I mean round the clock guards, cameras monitoring every space available and last but not least.. lasers” they said with an excited look on their face.

A groan of annoyance resounded in our small group.

“Like lasers that’ll cut us or just alarm ones?”, I asked .

“Uhhh unfortunately that info is not on here no wait. They're alarm types...just sort of... invisible” TM looked up and down from his laptop to us.

“Can we get an example of how they're set up and if it goes off how much time before the guards are alerted?” V asked.

“Yes and you’ll have about 30 secs before they're on you” they answered back.

“Alright we know what to expect, we’ll just prepare for everything we can. All that matters right now is getting that rock back to its rightful home”, I said, “Now how do we want to choose who does this.”~

Shaking my head I remind myself to focus. Setting a timer for 3 minutes I use the limited shadows due to the moon's illumination from the skylight. Stopping about 10 ft. from the glass case a prop holding up a (r/c) gem the size of my hand. Taking a deep breath and close my eyes calming my nerves I begin to move the way we had practiced on where the lasers had been positioned.

Feeling myself get closer to the case I open my eyes, stopping just before I hit it. Seeing a shadow pass over the skylight I freeze. When nothing happens I brush it off as birds flying overhead. Trying to keep my nerves calm I begin to open the glass case trying not to sound the alarms. Once it’s open I hurry up and put it in my satchel. As soon as I’m done I carefully begin to retrace my steps.

Getting out of the museum is easier than having to break in or that's what I thought. Half way down the block I feel myself being pulled up and in the blink of an eye I’m on the roof of an apartment. Turning to run I feel my hand become stuck to the rooftops wall behind me.

“Well look at what the cat dragged out”, a sarcastic voice quipped above me. “A thief how original.” He jumped down from the ledge of the adjoining building on to the rooftop I was on. Rolling my eyes I shook my head at him.

“Well aren’t I lucky enough to be in the presence of Spider-Man” I replied back slowly moving my pocket knife I kept out of my jacket and onto my hand.

“Don’t you know any better than to go around stealing or did you not learn your lesson from the last time, (Y/T/N).” he said stepping closer to me, head cocked to the side. His whole stance mocked disappointment.

“If I can recall correctly I think I was able to escape last time”. I said smiling, feeling the web give way. Tilting my head up to look at him I batted my eyes at him, the domino mask covering most of my face besides my eyes and mouth.

In the distance I could hear the ringing of the museum alarms go off. Guess the guards had noticed the case was missing an important piece.

“You got lucky. That’s not gonna happen again.” He said, his face in front of me as he reached to grab my satchel with the gem in it.

“You sure about that?” I purred finally getting my hand free of the web.

“ I mean, yeah, I have you cornered and there’s no way you can get out of my webs- hey wait-” he yelled at me finally noticing what I was doing.

Too bad I couldn’t hear him finish as I rushed out of his webs and jumped off the rooftop tumbling onto the next, beginning a chase of cat and mouse. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop I can hear the police cars heading towards the museum. Looking behind me I can see Spider-Man right on my tail swinging between the buildings. Smiling and laughing I start teasing him as I continue running.

Getting too cocky I realize too late that he caught up to me when I’m suddenly grabbed from behind struggling to get out of his grip I become irritated at how strong he is. When I notice that he’s beginning to take us back to the museum, I panic. Using my whole body weight I finally break free unfortunately I begin to free fall. Seeing a terrace coming closer and closer to my face I brace for a very painful impact.

Suddenly his body covers my own and I hold onto his arms as we make contact with the roof. Tumbling and rolling onto the floor of it our bodies become entangled with each other. Finally stopping I find myself on top of him. His arms around my waist my hands on his chest and behind his head. Lifting my head up I find myself looking at his eye lenses. Not being able to see his whole face I can feel my own flushing with heat as I hope I didn’t make eye contact with him. Biting my lip I feel his body flex under mine trying to get up. Deciding to use this position to my advantage I slowly move myself up to have more of a hold on him.

“Look Spidey, I know you want me just as much as I want you, but we could get arrested for this.”, I tell him as I move my hands to push his chest down as he scoffs, but I can tell it’s forced. Leaning my face closer to him, my heart begins to race as I feel him tense under my hands, “And I know I don’t want our night to end in handcuffs, unless you’re into that kind of thing.”, I whisper into his ear.

Moving away from him smoothly and quickly I avoid his hands as he reaches out for me. He quickly follows in my footsteps, wanting to have a handle on this still I push my body up against his. Leading us to a wall I trace my hand over his chest memorizing the design on it. He places one hand on my waist the other stays next to a pipe. Adrenaline coursing through our bodies, most likely cause we almost died. Yet, there’s electricity between us I can feel it and I know he does too. At least I hope to use it to my advantage right now.

“What do you think your doing?” he asks his tone softer than it was before.

Moving my other hand up I place it on his neck and pull his face closer to my own. Looking him up and down I can feel his eyes on me anticipating what i’m gonna do next. I can’t believe I’m even doing this. I take a deep breath to calm myself knowing I can’t get excited like this. Our foreheads our touching and as I can feel him moving me closer to him, I break away.

Backing away from him I smile at him as he moves to catch me only to be pulled back to the wall. Watching him look at his hand and realize that it was tied to the pipe he turned back at me.

“What-how did--” he splutters.

“Sorry Spidey I’d love to stay and continue what we were doing but I have places to be.”, I told him as I hopped onto the ledge, “ Don’t worry I’m sure we can continue this another time preferably without the costumes”. I winked at him. Hearing him stutter and trip over his own tongue, most likely to make a witty comeback I jumped down.

When I was a good distance away in a dead end alley and had changed out of my costume I made sure I had the gem still on me. Breathing out a sigh of relief once i realized it was still on me I smiled to myself. Seeing a car pull up in front of the entrance of the alleyway I made sure to be ready for anything or anyone. The window rolled down and I watched as Cherry’s head popped out and I chuckled at the concerned and excited look on her face.

“Yo (Y/N) you got it?” she asked, giving a nod of confirmation I walked to the car and got in. “ Man you sure are lucky that you didn’t get caught”.

Zoning out as she began to ramble about how crazy everything had been once the alarms had gone off and how worried everyone had been. I kept my face turned towards the window watching as everything flew by us. Remembering the events of tonight and how close I had been to him I felt my heart skip a beat.

“Yeah I did get pretty Lucky” I said as I watched a familiar red and blue figure swing from building to building.

#spiderman #andrew garfield #hayleys1kcelebration #spiderman x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader

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theda-rison · 3 years ago

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The Shirt That Is Two Shirts (And Also, Too Shirts)

Or: Kpop Stylists Are Literally Planning My Demise

Also, I wrote this more than a month ago and I’m finally remembering to post it. Good lordt.

You've heard the tale of the pants that are three pants:

I'm sorry about the constant cropping, Lisa.

Now how about: the shirt that is two shirts?

Sir, I don’t know what that is, but I’m going to have to ask you to stop.

First a wee update on the pants: I STILL HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO MAKE THEM BECAUSE THE SHORTS I WANT TO BUY ARE ALWAYS OUT OF STOCK. And this, on the day of my daughter’s wedding.

Though… I guess when you’re the black goat of the woods with a thousand young, basically every day is the “this, the day of my daughter’s wedding.” Oh, so it’s now somehow MY fault for having so many daughters?? How dare you??

So I was watching the Rebirth stage of WayV’s Turn Back Time (and if someone could explain the difference between the different stages, I would be grateful. Is it just different costuming? The one this shirt is from, the clothes never appear in the music video** so like?? I am confusion.)

**🤡🤡 Ding dong, I am wrong. But we’ll get to that at the end.

Again, watching the video on my phone TOO MUCH AND LATE AT NIGHT. While I had a migraine from looking at the computer screen all day, so: no, I apparently do not like myself.

A̴̢̛̛̼̗͙͇̯͚͇̘̖̽͐̎̂͐̒͝͠P̸̍̊̇̀͊͑̚͝ͅP̷̰͚̽̊͆̀͒̑L̶̨͔͍̞͓̗͊̐̾̌͛͒̾Y̷̟̳̞̆͌͆͛̉͛͐ ̴̦͕̂̂͒̈̄D̵̩̟̬̠̥̦̮͂͒̂Į̶͕͙͓͚̯͙̥̃̌̋͗̑R̵͔̈̌͘Ẹ̸͎͈͉̫͖͙̓͐̅C̷̛̼̼̺͔̠͍̭̗̘̟̈́̎̂̒̓͐̽̎̕̚T̴̯̀̎̌͂̈́͑̊͝L̸̛͇̻̖͖̅̋̓̀͋͒̀̓̎͘Y̸̪͍͕̜̪͚̅̆̋ ̸̜͇͙͎̰̹͈̎͂̐͠T̸̨̥͉̝͖̰̟̖̪̭̖̍̄̄́O̴̝̹͖̭̔̈́͐͒̆ ̶̧͈̘̗͔̰͖̝̂̇̈̊̒͐͊͂T̸̘͙̰̋̂̀͌̏͋̐̀̇H̶̗̫̰͚͐̾̈́͝ͅȨ̶̡̘͈̻̽͛̈̂̎̉̌̑̋ ̵̡͉̮̈́̂̍͐́̓̈́̚͝Ģ̷̦͍̰̝̼͈͇̇ͅA̴̹͍̍̊Ŗ̴̛͕͇̻̼̠͇̯̮̯̐͊͂̀̈̽̈̎͜͝B̴̧̞̀̿̑́Ḷ̶̻͙̪̲̌́̅̀͑͘͝͝Ė̵̢̧͖͎̰̤͚̠͉̘͍͆̋͗͗̔͠͝F̴̭̤̜͎̝̤̭̤̏͆̀͂͆̇͊͂̓͘L̸̟̫̰̍̌̕͘͠A̸̧̲̩̲͉͛̿͂͌͂̅͆R̴̢̦̽̊͆̉͊͠G̶̢̗͚̼̯͚͈͔̭͋͌͜͝L̵̮̪̩̈͝Ẽ̷̖̲̟̥̲̬͊̋͐̾̓͊͝*

If you were ever like “does she like herself? I wonder.” The answer is “No.”

Something about looking down and whispering? ...I’ll get back to you on it.

So I had a huge fucking migraine and the light was making it worse and I was just squinting at my phone screen like the meme of that lady who stood up after taking a picture and her knees were protesting because like… I really liked this shirt.

And yet you persist sir? How dare you. Who is your stylist? Tell them I just want to talk.

So I was watching the video over and over, trying to figure out what it was made of. I could tell the body was a Korn shirt, but I wasn’t sure if it was a t-shirt or a sweatshirt, and when I looked it up I couldn’t find it. And, for the life of me (or the death of me), I couldn’t figure out what the fuck the sleeves were made out of.

Lucas, move. Please be disrespectful somewhere else.

Okay, Lucas is gone-- Boi, where the fuck are you going?

At first I was thinking maybe a silk, but I wasn’t sure if it was or if he was just moving so fast that the fabric seemed to move that way.

I start googling - as you do when your brain is obsessive over unimportant things because it craves that molecule (serotonin) - and I find grainy pictures of Kun in his shirt and am like… less than impressed. ALSO, I didn’t see a single person say they liked it or whatever, so like… it’s at least two people *less* popular than Lisa’s pants.

Again, honey, I’m so sorry. Please don’t think that I only love you for your pants.

But after watching the video 89279120293840238747 times and wondering if I’m going to even be able to see the next day, I’ve already realized that it’s something the designers made, because I can see the serged hems of the sleeves. And also, after the pants rabbithole, I AM ONTO THEM.

I ALSO, found the fancam of him, but I can’t see fucking SHIT on my phone because despite it being in ULTRA HD, it’s still just a tiny phone screen. I leave it open on my phone so I can watch it tomorrow.

I wake up the next day, cook for four hours (and it feels like MORE hours, amirite?), listen to Taeyong’s “new” raps, and watch the WayV video a few times and do that cute little move during “turning back time,” you know the one.

[I couldn’t find a gif that had just that bit, so you’re all going to have to imagine it in your mind’s eye or watch the music video. I don’t know how to gif things so I am at the mercy of others.]

[EDIT: The first gif in this set. I also want those patched up pants.]

I finish cooking, get ready for work and sit my butt down at my computer, all ready to mute students who forget to mute themselves. I’ll mute the students, I’ll mute the professor, I’ll even mute myself. No one is safe. I wish I could mute my cat as well because she yells at me every time I look at her and I don’t know why.

I also send all the links I had opened on my phone the night before to my laptop.

I remember that SM does Behind The Scenes of everything, and find and watch the behind the scenes of the Turn Back Time music video, just for fun. Just for funsies. Just for funsie wunsies. And honestly, I wanted to see the shit with Hendery in the water tank. I was like, “THEY PUT THEIR TALENT IN A FUCKING TANK??? UNDER WATER???” but it wasn’t as bad as I guess I had imagined it was from the video. I was expecting some Houdini shit where he’d be totally upside down in a vertical tank, but that wasn’t what they actually did.

I also SEE THE SHIRT IN THE BTS AND GUESS WHAT FUCKER???

Dat smile tho.

JUST GUESS!

There IS a drama these days, and it’s me wanting clothes that don’t exist.

IT’S TWO SHIRTS.

I remember I had sent the fancam to my laptop and I open it, and play it in ULTRA HD, and as I watch it…..

I was screaming at this point.

IT’S TWO SHIRTS.

IT’S TWO MOTHERFUCKING SHIRTS.

I slap my hands together because I am equal parts delighted that NOW I KNOW WHY THE SLEEVES ARE SHAPED THAT WAY, and ANNOYED THAT I HAVE FOUND YET ANOTHER GARMENT THAT IS MADE OF MORE THAN ONE OF THAT SAME GARMENT.

Kpop designers be like:

No one: Absolutely no one: Not even the Elder Gods: Kpop designers: What if I made a shoe out of 6 shoes? Everyone and their mother: *judgemental looks* Me 🤡: ....... Me 🤡: Give me

It’s this Korn shirt (which I later found once I could read the words above the Korn logo):

I was going to crop this to just the shirt but then I realized it was on a fucking SPACE JAM BLANKET, and I couldn’t.

And another shirt that I can’t figure out what it is (and it really doesn’t fucking matter) cut down the sides or de-seamed and sewn into sleeves, and then sewn onto the Korn shirt. (The Korn shirt also seems to have been cut so it’s higher in the front than the back, for whatever reason. Fashion I suppose. Someone was exorcising some demons with some scissors on those shirts that day.)

You can see the collar of the second shirt on his shoulder. They literally halved a shirt and went, “You are sleeves now, my child. Live on in your new form.”

Seeing it in the bts made me like BUT WHERE IS IT IN THE MUSIC VIDEO??? And it was literally in it for .5 of a fucking nanosecond in this shot.

**It’s the end now 🤡🤡. Beep beep Richie.

I wasn’t intentionally giving you the time stamp, but I suppose that’s just good praxis.

Like, I had started noticing that the styling for all the many variations of “stages” that kpop (at least NCT) do seem to all be in the song’s music video, and just could not find this stage because the costumes were in the mv for such a short amount of time.

It was apparently also used for this pop up card, and I don’t know enough about kpop shit to know what that means. The print on the exposed sleeve literally looks like those super crowded supermarket ads you see in the newspaper, lol.

Anyway. I want to make this as well because my aspirations are strange and unusual (and I don’t think that’s going to change any time soon), and I figure it might be easier since I don’t have to find four pairs of band logo shorts and all the ones I want have been fucking sold out for months and the company TESTS MY PATIENCE. All I have to find is a shirt I like and something to make the sleeves out of. I think they used two very vintage shirts (since the new version of that Korn shirt looks a lot darker than the one he’s wearing), and I don’t have any old shirts that are big enough to make sleeves like that out of.

So I’ve decided on a Bathory “Blood on Ice” shirt.

Because why fucking not?

It has a lot of color going on on the front while still being a black shirt. Everything I wear is dark so to make a shirt that looks exactly like Kun’s wouldn’t work for me; while my brain recognizes that they are just faded colors, from a “just on their own” perspective they are pastels.

I am legally not allowed to wear them.

I also would not be able to buy that shirt specifically because I never liked Korn and actually really hate their music. That was a fun time in high school, being the only one who hated them 🙄🙄. Weird times.

But anyway, I was thinking maybe a sari fabric for the sleeves... and I MIGHT have impulse bought some before I realized the sleeves were two halves of another shirt. The one I found has a lot of colors in common with the Bathory shirt, but it’d be great in theory...

Before I remembered that cotton and silk are two very different fabrics that need to be washed differently. That’d just be making problems for myself in the future. And I do not like problems or shit that I need to remember to do, so I don’t know what I’m going to do with the fabric now. It’s very pretty though.

So now I’m back to having to use a second shirt but also, the shirts they used for his shirt^2 seem pretty old, and the thrift store near me has perpetually shitty options for clothing (I envy the people who can do most of their Goth styling at thrift stores, I would only be able to go if I wanted to wear late 90s Juicy couture or some ugly shit) and there’s no online bargain bin for vintage shirts.

So like...

I wonder if there’s a way to speed up the wear and tear on a cotton tee? I know you can do salt baths to try and soften the cotton up, but I don’t know if that will work to make the shirt look and feel like it’s a few years older than it actually is so it’s not so stiff and moves in more of the flowy way that it does in the video.

Also, this:

What the fuck, spellcheck?

In the end, I’m not sure which would be easier to accomplish; the pants^4 or the shirt^2. I’m waiting for the end of the trilogy - shoes^6 - to finally completely lose my mind.

(Though, the patched pants in the one Turn Back Time stage would probably be a lot easier to accomplish, lol.)

#artisanal post #WayV #Kun's shirt #Turn Back Time #fashion #Kun #NCT #those dimples though sir; please put those away #I'm being attacked by them #though: Jaehyun would be the real assailant. Have you seen that boy's dimples? Mario Lopez is quaking #*a challenger appears* lol #Anyway: I still can't make the pants and now I don't know if I'll be able to make this shirt #It's all a little sad #I need to stop falling in love with clothes that don't exist lol #I should just buy the silk I wanted to make the not-at-all-kpop-stylist-weirdness skirt I wanted to make #which would also require me dying the fabric because I want a very particular color of red #exciting but also trepidatious #perilous in the sense that I'll probably make a mess 😬😬😬#long post

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tsuki-chibi · 4 years ago

Text

Can I Come In? (Ladrien June) Day 30: Puns

Or start from the beginning AO3: Can I Come In?

---------

Adrien whistled under his breath as he bounced up the stairs towards his room. It had been something of a hectic day after a long night; Marinette’s parents had sobbed buckets when Chat Noir carried their daughter into the bakery and had insisted on Chat joining them for a late night snack. Midnight had come and gone before Chat was able to extract himself and head home.

He muffled a yawn with his hand as he pushed the door to his room open. As much as he wanted to think that he was going to get a good night’s sleep tonight, it seemed unlikely. He and Ladybug hadn’t patrolled for three nights now. Marinette hadn’t shown up to school today, so chances were Ladybug wasn’t going to show up for patrol. He’d have to make a quick round himself –

“Hi Adrien.”

“LB?” Adrien stopped in surprise as she stood up, smiling shyly.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said, wringing her hands together. “I thought about texting you, but I haven’t looked at my phone all day and I wasn’t sure if I should what with… everything.”

“Of course I don’t mind,” Adrien said automatically, and then, when the rest of her words registered, he added, “Wait, you mean you don’t know what happened with Lila?”

“I know that my expulsion has been reversed. Principal Damocles called and gave me a personal apology. I almost feel bad for him. Papa said Maman gave him quite a hard time yesterday afternoon when she found out about Lila.” Ladybug gave him a sly smile and Adrien had to hold in a laugh. If Sabine’s temper was anything like Ladybug’s, then he almost felt sorry for the principal too.

Almost.

“But you didn’t come back today?” he asked.

Ladybug shook her head. “Maman and Papa thought I should take today and tomorrow off and wait to go back until Monday. They were really worried about me. They said I needed to take more time for myself.”

“I’m guessing they don’t know you’re here.”

“I slipped out,” she admitted. “Just for a bit. I needed to see you. They think I’m napping.”

“I’m glad you came,” Adrien said, crossing the distance between them and pulling her into a hug. He knew she wouldn’t be able to stay for long, so he savored the feeling of her body in his arms. It had been hard to sleep last night without the sound of her breathing.

“So what happened today?” she asked, and he smiled into her hair.

“With how curious you are, sometimes I think you should’ve been the cat.”

She huffed. “I have every right to be curious. Now stop kitten-ing around and tell me!”

Adrien gasped. “Was that a pun?”

“No,” she lied.

He was tempted to hold out until she made another pun, but caved to the hopeful blue eyes that peeked up at him. “Okay, okay. Lila wasn’t there. Alya told me that Lila’s mother was furious. You remember when Lila told everyone that she was visiting Prince Ali?”

“Un-fur-tunately.”

He grinned. “Well, it turns out that Lila had told her mother that the school was closed because of the akuma attacks. So Lila spent like two months just hanging out around the house. And everything else she said, the tinnitus and all that, was obviously a lie too. Principal Damocles was not happy. He ended up expelling Lila.”

Ladybug gasped softly.

“And,” Adrien barrelled on, “we don’t have to worry about Lila becoming an akuma. She’s not in Paris anymore.”

“She’s not?” Ladybug breathed, her eyes wide.

“Nope. Madame Bustier confirmed that Lila’s mother sent her back to Italy last night.” He couldn’t help beaming. He didn’t know why Lila hadn’t become an akuma in the meantime – that still left several hours of unaccounted for time when Hawkmoth could’ve gotten to her. But maybe Hawkmoth had his own reasons for not using Lila as an akuma. Frankly, Adrien didn’t care why. He was just happy that Lila would never be a problem for them again.

“Wow,” Ladybug said. “Her mother must’ve been really mad if she did that.”

“The point is, we never have to see her again,” Adrien said gleefully.

“That’s… wow,” Ladybug said again, looking overwhelmed. “And… and everyone else?”

“They’re sorry,” he told her as gently as he could. “Alya said she tried to text you and call you; she was upset that you weren’t answering, but I told her that you probably needed some space.”

“Thank you,” Ladybug said. “I – I know I’ll have to talk to them. I want to talk to them. Just – just not yet. I need to figure out what I’m going to say first.” She dropped her gaze. “They believe me now, but they didn’t before and that hurts.”

“I know,” he said quietly, hugging her again.

“What did they say to you?” she asked, snuggling into his embrace.

“Not much. The whole class seemed a little shell-shocked, to be honest,” he replied. No one had been acting like themselves, not even Madame Bustier or Chloé. He figured it would take a little while for them to get past what had happened.

“But they’re not angry with me anymore?”

“No,” he said, conscious of the way some of the tension drained out of her. “In fact, they’re madder at themselves now. Especially Alya. Some people left unflattering comments on Lila’s interview on the Ladyblog. She took it down, but now she’s going through the blog trying to figure out what else Lila told her that might have affected what she wrote.”

“Good,” Ladybug said grimly. “I hope that in the future, Alya’s a lot more careful about who she trusts.”

“I think she will be,” Adrien said, thinking about how Alya had looked that day. Disappointed and exhausted were two words that came to mind. He thought it was safe to say that Alya had learned a harsh lesson: having Marinette go missing had definitely scared her.

He thought about the rest of their class and amended that to, “I think theyall will be.”

Her smile was fleeting. “You know what I really want to do right now?”

“What?”

“I don’t have much time, but I’d like to go for a run with my kitty,” she said, lacing their fingers together. “Would that be okay?”

“Of course,” Adrien said. “That sounds perfect, actually.” When they ran together, he was able to leave his stress, worries, and anxiety behind.

But first –

He used their intertwined fingers to pull her close again so that he could kiss her. This time he felt more than saw her smile as her free arm came up around his neck, fingers sliding into his hair. Adrien rested his free hand on her hip, stroking the fabric of her costume with his thumb. They kissed once, twice, three times, until Ladybug’s eyes were sparkling and her cheeks were pink when she pulled back.

“Let’s go, my prince,” she said, and his heart felt as though it was going to burst with how much he loved her.

“As you wish, My Lady.”

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #ladrienjune2020 #can i come in?#fluffy ending #happy ending

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catralvr · 4 years ago

Text

I’ll make a cup of coffee for your head pt.1

Duncan x Gwen

Word count: 4788

Warnings: Smut (at the end)

Summary: In which Gwen goes into a new coffee because her usual one near her university is closed for the week and meets an old acquaintance working there. She finds herself going there more and more, getting closer to him again.

Notes: I know it might be bad but hey I wrote this because I had one particular scene in it going round and round in my head so. Enjoy. And yeah I’m gonna make a pt 2 bc it was starting to be way too long for me to write. And yes I stopped after That Part sorry

Gwen was standing in front of the coffee place, her laptop already in her hand, music going through her earphones, and pushed the door without even looking. The door didn’t budge. She frowned her eyebrows, not understanding why. She always came at that time, to work on her essays. She raised her head, only to be met by a sign saying that it would be closed the whole week for renovation.

Fuck.

She groaned, put her laptop back in her bag and went away. Where the fuck was she supposed to go now? She had no idea where to find another coffee place as good as this one.

She wandered for ten good minutes, looking for somewhere somewhat good. She wanted to drink her usual macchiato while eating her favourite chocolate muffin. Where was she supposed to go now. Since she wasn’t finding anything, she ended up going to the first one she saw. Didn’t seem to be a lot of costumers, which was good for her. Great, even. Nice, she’ll remember this place for future times, and for the rest of the week too. It was kind of far away from her place but she didn’t really mind, this would leave more time alone to Courtney and Heather, they’ll be happy.

She went to the counter while waiting for the barista to come back to her, took down an earphone to hear him while ordering.

— A caramel macchiato with a chocolate muffin, if you have some ?

— Sure. That all ?

The voice. It seemed like she knew it... Her eyes which were glued on her phone, sending texts to Courtney and Leshawna saying she probably would be late for their movie night, looked up to see the green hair guy from that tv reality show she did, years ago. That show where she met Courtney and Leshawna, her flatmates.

— Duncan ?

— Gwen ?

She blinked twice, making sure it was really him, before laughing awkwardly. She knew he lived in this town, it was big after all. And he was friends with Geoff and DJ, whom she still was close to (but somehow never saw Duncan again, maybe because of packed schedules). Nevertheless, she was still surprised to see him. Wasn’t expecting it.

— Yeah that’ll be all, thanks.

She held out her phone to pay with it, an awkward smile on her lips. What was she supposed to do now? Wasn’t like she had tried to stay in touch with him (not that she didn’t want to, only things happened which made it hard).��

— So um... Didn’t expect you to be working in a café.

— Yeah, a guy gotta do what he’s gotta do to pay the bills.

He laughed, an awkward laugh too. The green-haired guy (still dyed his hair green? Good choice though, it suited him well) went to make her coffee, while Gwen stayed at the counter, waiting for her order. She felt too awkward to walk to a table as she usually did.

— I have a band too, on the side, we do some gigs here and there but not enough to live off of it. And working here is nice, never too many people, customers are usually nice. Hot too.

A smirk going her way. She rolled her eyes, not being able to repress the grin appearing on her lips. Same as he used to be, not that she was really surprised. She liked that about him (maybe still do a little bit).

— The other place I usually go to is constantly packed, might change and make this my study hangout.

— Please, be my guest.

She laughed, a real laugh this time, not really awkward. Yeah, she might make it her study place, especially if it’s empty like that. Oh, it was so weird to see him again. Especially since she thought about him from time to time, when she went on Instagram and saw Geoff’s and DJ’s stories. Even so, she wasn’t expecting it. Not when she was still angry about her favourite café being closed (even if it ended up being kind of a good thing). He handed her a plate with her coffee and the muffin on it, winked at her and then let her go to go see another costumer who came after her. She went on the closest table to sit, took out her laptop and started writing this goddamn essay she was supposed to hand it the next day.

During the next two hours she ended up glancing at Duncan more than a few times, even if she wouldn’t admit it. It was strange that they hadn’t kept in touch but the way things ended with the two of them was way too... weird to keep on being friends. She kept in touch with some others, hell she was housemate with Courtney and Leshawna (Heather too, since she was Courtney’s girlfriend and was constantly at their apartment). Geoff too, Bridget by extension, but that was it. Total Drama was something she desperately wanted to erase from her mind. And she had somewhat succeeded, if it wasn’t for even people at her university going up to her and asking if she was the Gwen. Which was annoying.

Once, she stood up to ask when the place was closing, Duncan answered 7pm. It was already 6.

— Fuck. I needed more time. But it’s ok, I’ll leave when it closes thanks!

She was already walking away, ready to go back to that essay. She should be able to finish it by that time, if she stopped being distracted. She could do it.

And she did. Oh it was kind of hard, because everything was a good reason to be distracted. The squeaking of shoes on the floor. The sound of the coffee machine. But she finally was done with it and immediately sent it via email to her professor, was sure she wouldn’t forget it this way. When she looked at the time, she saw it was already way past 7pm. Which she didn’t understand, because she wasn’t asked to leave. She groaned, mad at herself for not having put an alarm, Duncan probably was cleaning and forgot to ask her to leave, but still. She felt too bad about staying overtime, maybe he was doing overtime because of her.

She walked around the room, to find him. Say goodbye before leaving, apologise about staying so much longer. It already half past seven. It let more alone time to Heather and Courtney, but still. She shouldn’t have overstayed.

He wasn’t in the main room, maybe in the back cleaning. But she didn’t want to venture where she wasn’t allowed to. She ended up taking a piece of paper and write a thank you note on it (and her number, just in case). She then left, ready to walk back to her apartment. She was still surprised she saw him again, in a fucking café ? Who would’ve thought the Duncan she met when they were 16 would end up working there. But five years had passed, so it was to be expected. Even herself, even the girls with whom she stayed in touch. They all changed, partly because of that damn show, partly because they grew too. You change a lot between 16 and 21 and she was only now realising it. Well, she did before, but it hit her.

She wondered how much he had changed, she hoped they would be able to get back in touch, she didn’t leave her number for nothing. Well. She’ll see. Now, she needed to get back without getting lost.

She ended up being able to do it, came back to Courtney and Leshawna watching a movie they had already watched at least ten times.

— Yo.

— Hey, sorry we didn’t wait for you. You were taking too long. There’s some lasagna left in the oven.

— Thanks Leshawna!

She was too tired to even argue about them not waiting for her, was only glad Heather wasn’t there. Not that she still despised her, she ended up being kind of close to her. She just didn’t want to come in to her and Courtney making out on the couch, thinking they were alone.

Once.

Not twice.

Once her lasagna heated, she went back to living room and sat on the couch, watching the movie with them. Didn’t matter how many times they watched it, they still laughed the only better thing was that now they could say every line about that movie.

Her hair was tied up in a bun (she had let it grown up to a bit under her shoulder blades but still dyed it black and teal, because it became an habit and couldn’t bear seeing herself with her natural brown hair) as she was lying on her bed, reading a book recommended by her teacher. She usually did that every night before sleeping, got her tired, best way to fall asleep. She was starting to get sleep and put her book on her nightstand when her phone went off. With a sigh she took it and sat on her bed, unlocking it. A text from an unknown number? Eyebrows frowned she opened it.

got your note, wanna hang out later?

OH! It must’ve been Duncan! Gwen had lost a bit of hope, seeing he still hadn’t sent her a text. “Later”.

yeah sure! tell me when you’re free we’ll see

She then put her phone facing down, so she wouldn’t be bothered by the light, and went to sleep.

The next day, she went back to the café place after her classes were over. They exchanged a bit of texts with Duncan during the day, mainly to try and figure out a day to see each other. Which ended up being hard. The only time was during Geoff’s next party (which would make Leshawna more than happy, she had been trying to get her to go since forever). Maybe another time, if any of their plans got cancelled. Or like, his gigs. Since he was playing almost every night, to try and make his band more known. Or she could go to one of his concerts.

She usually wasn’t up for those type of stuff, you never knew if they were really good or not and having to lie to people... She shivered just at the thought. Anyways. She barely met him again, why was she thinking about all that. It was dumb. They hadn’t talked in years. Since they broke up, after Total Drama.

Maybe because you still have... feelings for him.

She shook her head as those thoughts rushed through her head.

Nuh-uh.

No way.

Not going back that path.

Unless...?

NO!

She slapped herself, putting her thoughts back in place.

They weren’t even friends anymore.

She would focus on that.

Being friends with Duncan again.

She pushed the door to enter the coffee place, took out her earphones and went immediately to the counter. Just like the day before, Duncan was there. He looked up from whatever he was doing and smirked at Gwen.

— Missed me already ?

— Yeah, you’re so irresistible I couldn’t stay away from you for longer.

— Knew it. I do that to people.

A smile made its way on her lips as she ordered the exact same thing as the day before and went to sit, waiting for her coffee to be ready. This time, she took out a book instead of her laptop. She had already done all of her homework in advance. She still came, though, because she liked to have a part of the day where she could just rest, be alone for a little while. And this place was so much quieter than the other one. It was a good thing it closed for the week, in the end. Otherwise she would've never found this place.

A plate got laid down in front of her, which made her jump a little bit. Oh. She almost had forgotten about her order.

— There you go. Put a little extra on your coffee. And don't need to pay, it's on me.

She was ready to argue with him but he sat down, crossed his arms on his chest.

— Don't say no. Not letting you a choice.

— Ok. Won't complain.

She took a sip of her drink. Coffee was her addiction, she could never get enough of it. Caffeine didn’t even work on her anymore, her body had gotten used to it. And the fact that he put whipped cream on top of it was really appreciated.

She was ready to get back into her book, only to have it taken away from her as Duncan sat down on the other side of the table, his elbows on the table.

— Aren’t you supposed to work? said Gwen, an eyebrow raised.

— Do you see any customers around?

He was right and she couldn’t help the smirk which made its way on her lips, as she rolled her eyes.

— What do you want, Duncan?

— Have a chat, since we won’t be able to see each other. Since we’re both oh so busy constantly.

— Whose fault is that?

— Eh, not my fault I’m always booked and busy. Anyway. You live with Courtney? What the fuck did I miss?

Gwen choke on her coffee as he asked the question and had to hit her chest to try and not suffocate.

— We kind of dated for a while. After All Stars ended. At first it was... awkward but we went back to being friends and then... You know, when she’s not there she’s really nice? I think the competition got to her. And yeah. It was nice. But it wasn’t working. Still friends though. Now she’s dating Heather. And I kept on being friend with Leshawna, because Leshawna.

She ended her sentence with a light laugh, which ended up being an explosion of laughter when she saw the face Duncan was making. Maybe it was too much at once.

— Dated Courtney? Dating Heather? She? What? What the fuck?

—Yeah. You missed a lot. But hey! Time to catch up on everything!

— Yeah. Didn’t miss much on my side. Tried to go to college, dropped out to start a band. And work... here.

He waved his hand, showing the coffee shop. It wasn’t that bad, in Gwen’s opinion. Didn’t seem to be a lot of customers here. And as long as it payed well.

They spent the rest of the time talking, Gwen didn’t even have the time to read her book in the slightest. But it was nice. Catching up with him. She learned he was in a relationship with a girl for two whole years, but it didn’t work out. She told him she never really went out with anyone except for Courtney, it was mostly one night stands or hookups.

She went back home that night, light-hearted, happy. She felt a ting in her heart, it felt so familiar. She didn’t realise but... She kind of missed that. Him. In a way. She shook her head, trying to shake those feelings away. It was neither the time nor the place for that.

But still, she kept on going back there. Almost every day, for the next few weeks. Getting closer to him. Intimate. Flirty, sometimes. At first, she didn’t tell her friends. She didn’t know how they would react. After all, they all left Duncan in pretty bad terms (Courtney especially) and she was afraid.

One evening, as they were all in the living room, each of them doing something else. Gwen was reading a book her art history teacher had recommended her when she asked about something to improve her knowledge. She was almost at the end of her degree and felt like she hadn’t learned enough, didn’t go through everything she wanted to. So she tried to resolve it on her own.

Her phone, which was right next to her, lit up with a text notification. She picked it up, only to see it was from Duncan.

hey, got a free ticket for the concert i’m playing it tonight, wanna come?

A smile appeared as she answered his text.

yeah, ofc, text me the details i’ll be right there

She couldn’t help but be happy about it. Was this a date? It was right? She didn’t know. She didn’t know where their relationship was. Which point they were at. They were flirting together but didn’t know where they stood, if it was only in a friend’s teasing way or not. She hadn’t gone in a date in ages. Had to make sure it would become one, in the end. Because she desperately wanted it to be a date. She was way too careful about how she dressed, her makeup, her hair. Spent at least a half hour on what she should do with her hair, only to end up with a bun. It showed her collarbones. It was nice. She felt nice.

She arrived a bit too late at the venue, took too long to get ready. But Duncan had texted her, told her when he would perform so she was still ok. Hadn’t missed him.

She still was kind of on the fence about what to think of this, bands of her friends were rarely good, she still had nightmares about what Harold and the others boys did after Total Drama Action. But maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Just maybe. And maybe drinking something would make this all the more enjoyable, who knew.

She ordered a beer, sat at the bar while waiting the turn of Duncan’s band. There wasn’t too many people here, it was nice. She could clearly see the stage from where she was sitting, even if she would probably get closer once it was their turn, just to be sure he would see her. She felt like it was kind of important? Otherwise he probably wouldn’t have asked her to come.

The bands she had listened to up to now weren’t that bad, even if they were not amazingly good either. She could listen to them, it was ok. The time was almost there. She ordered another beer, took the glass and went up to the crowd. Saying “sorry” and “excuse me” she gradually succeeded in going first row (she might have used the excuse of “my boyfriend’s going to play next”, it always worked). Sipping her drink, she was moving her head, smile on her lips. It was a nice evening, unexpected, but nice. The fact that she hadn’t gone out in ages, because of all the workload her teachers constantly gave her, only made this experience better. The current band ended their set, got out of the stage. Her phone rang, another text from Duncan.

we’re next. u there?

Gwen smirked, put her glass on the stage right in front of her for a few seconds to answer.

look right in front of you. can’t miss me.

She put back her phone in the pocket of her jacket, took back her glass and drank it. A warm feeling was rising in her body, a sense of anticipation. She was expecting something, but wasn’t quite sure what. It would be so fucking corny of him to have written a song about her. Trent did it way too many times, when they were together. But still... Anyway. She shook her head, took another mouthful of the beer, her eyes fixed on the stage.

And then they came on. Duncan’s eyes were looking further away in the crowd, before finally locking onto her. He reciprocated the smirk which still was on Gwen’s lips, got his bass ready. The others got their instruments ready too, signalling to each other. Duncan winked at Gwen, before signalling that he was ready, too.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that bad. Reminded her if some bands she used to listen to. Still did, actually. She bopped her head in rhythm to the music, her eyes closed and occasionally looking at Duncan. The lyrics were fine, the music was great. The beer she had taken was making her feel all calm and nice, the smile on Duncan’s lips whenever he was looking at her made her feel all... fuzzy inside. When that song ended, just before starting their last one, he raised his eyebrows, laughed a silent laugh. She rolled her eyes, finishing her glass. She tried to read the program on her phone, quickly before they started the song. One more band after them. Way enough time to hang out with him, before the results were announced.

That song was way slower than the first two. This was the first ballad of the evening, and a pretty. Lately, she had found herself enjoy ballads way more than other songs. Was mostly the only songs she had on her daily playlists on Spotify, had made Duncan listen to her favourites. This was probably a coincidence. Didn’t know for sure. But it was nice. A nice change of pace. She found herself looking at Duncan, and him staring at her, way more than she was expecting to. The song ended faster than she wanted it to, and they were already off the stage. No more interest for her, so she left the crowd. Gave the glass back to the barman.

— So. What did you think?

— Better than what I expected. Might have a shot at winning this thing.

She said, as she turned around. He was there, looking at her with that same face he had on stage. Looking... kinda hot, actually. But maybe it was just the beer acting up. She couldn’t know for sure. (She did know, she had found it hot for the longest time). He approached the bar, ordered a beer. Take a better look at her.

— I’m glad you came, it was nice to see you there. Looking so good, it made me want to be even better for you.

He laughed, ruffled his hair. He wanted to say something else, she could feel it. But maybe later? She didn’t want to hurry him.

— Who knew Duncan could be so corny?

— Oh, I can be something else than corny.

— I’d like to see that.

They glared at each other before bursting into laughter. Duncan took his glass of beer, drank a bit. It was silent between them, but not awkward. The last band was playing in the background. Gwen finally sat on a stool, taking it closer to Duncan. She crossed her legs, thinking of something to say, but Duncan did it before her.

— I meant it, you really look good. I had forgotten how you look in a dress like that.

— I mean, I also changed a lot in five years. In case you didn’t notice.

— Oh. I did. Believe me, I did.

The way he was looking at her after saying those words made her shiver. Weirdly enough, her heart was starting to beat faster. Would he... He moved in closer to her, and so did she. The space between them soon getting closer and closer.

— Can I kiss you?

His voice was a whisper. Gwen closed the gap between them, kissing him. His lips were as soft as she remembered, one of his hands find its way onto the back of her neck, while the other was holding one of Gwen’s. They broke off the kiss after a few moments, both breathless. Both smiling.

— Is that enough of an answer for you? Gwen said, winking.

— Wanna come to my place?

She blinked twice, frowned.

— What about the results?

He shrugged.

— Meh. I know we’ll win anyway. My bandmates will be mad. I can handle it. It can wait.

The hand on the back of her neck slid down to the small of her back, pressing it slightly. Gwen laughed, shaking her head. She took out her phone from her jacket, sending a text to Leshawna and Courtney saying she wouldn’t be back for the night. They left. The expectation of what was going to happen was building up, she felt an excitation she hadn’t felt in so long. The way to his apartment was pure torture. They had to walk for about 20 minutes, the high heels Gwen was wearing was killing her. But she didn’t complain, only talked to Duncan. They talked a lot, during those twenty minutes. However, once they were inside the apartment and Duncan locked the door, all talk was over.

He immediately kissed her, leading her somewhere. She didn’t even have the time to take a look at where he was living, she already was in his bedroom (he had a two room apartment? wow), thrown onto his bed. The light was off, but the light from the street were enough for her to make out Duncan in the darkness. He was already taking off his shirt and pants, she unzipped her dress and let it fall on the floor. She didn’t really want to talk for now, only to feel him next to her. It wasn’t long, he quickly went to kiss her, his hands undoing the bun to pass his hands through her hair, pulling it with a small laugh. She groaned, pulled her hair back.

— Stop that.

— You prefer this?

He went down, started kiss her neck. Bit it here and there. Went further down, kissing all her body as he did so. Gwen shivered, held out her breath. She giggled when he started kissing her stomach. Immediately stopped once he arrived at her underwear. She wasn't expecting it to go there that fast.

— Duncan...

He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised.

— If you don't want to, stop me.

Him saying that made her feel more comfortable. She exhaled, put her hand in his hair.

— No. It's fine.

He stayed there, looking at her for a few more moments a grin slowly making its way before taking the last piece of tissue on Gwen's body out of the way. He kissed her there like no one did before. She tried to hold it in, bit her tongue to drown any noise. Only some few moans, as her hands were buried deep down into the sheets. He let his tongue slid, trying to make her make more noise. Ended up going back to her face, to kiss her.

Feeling Gwen's short breathes made him laugh. As a revenge, she held out her hand, put it in his boxer. Grinning, she started to stroke him, laughing herself as she felt him thrust with a moan.

— Feeling less bold all of sudden, are you?

— Wanna bet?

His free hand reached into his bedside table, took out a condom. He pulled back from Gwen for a few instants, ripping the package open. He quickly put it on, went back down to kiss Gwen.

— You sure about this?

— Yes. I am.

He looked her in the eyes as he made sure to not hurt her, smiling even more when he felt her legs wrapping themselves around his waist. One his hands reached out to hold her waist as the other was against her cheek, caressing it. They were both smiling, both looking into each other's eyes. It felt as if they were only one. Gwen's hands were around the back of Duncan's neck, her moand got louder and louder. Duncan was faster and faster. They were moaning together, kissed each other frantically as they felt the end coming. Which was amazing. In unison. The first time it ever happened to Gwen. The first time she came that fast with someone, the first time it was so... Good.

She laughed as Duncan laid down next to her, she stood up to go to the toilets and went back next to him right after, still totally naked. She was too exhausted to put back any clothes on.

She curled herself up next to him, as he put his arm around her, his fave buried in her hair, smiling.

— Nice to see you again, Gwen.

— Nice to see you again, Duncan.

#td duncan #td gwen #total drama #total drama island #total drama action #total drama world tour #gwuncan

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rinasred · 4 years ago

Text

Night falls, I'm cast beneath her spell.

An hournite fic -

Summary: Rick has been engaging with a mystery girl online, he hopes that she reveals herself to be his long time crush beth... maybe he gets what he's hoping for. <3

read on AO3

---

Rick had always been good at keeping things to himself. He never understood how some people can go around telling others every aspect of their own lives. He was especially that way in school and on social media. His classmates knew absolutely nothing about him, if you asked them they'd probably just say he's the angry kid with the drunken dad (of course no one knew he’s actually his uncle). Or recently they'll mention how he hangs out with those weird girls all the time, meaning Beth, Yolanda and Courtney. But that's about all the knowledge Rick's peers have about him.

Sitting on his bed rick scrolls through his Instagram feed, where he keeps himself anonymous. A noise comes from his phone to show that he has a notification. It's a message, and there's only one person it can be from. He checks it to see that it's from a user by the name of BubblyGirl04. A grin comes across Rick's face as he reads the notification. Rick and this girl have been messaging non stop for the past months, they've been talking even before he found out about hourman and the JSA.

With a giant smile on his face Rick opens the message to see an image attached, it's a photo of delicious looking pasta. Under it the mystery girl wrote.

Bubblygirl04: So... What do you think? Do i just get better or what?

YellowMustang: It looks amazing, my mouth is actually watering up... And to answer your question, yes, you do in fact get better.

Bubblygirl04: Thanks!! You're too sweet for you own good!! <3

Rick looks up from his phone, his face heats up as his cheeks turn a reddish color. Luckily he was alone in his room, he would die if anyone caught him blushing the way he is now.

BubblyGirl04: So tell me, do you think that i should join the cooking class at our school? I don't want that to make it easier for you to figure me out.

YellowMustang: Join as you please, I don't think the cooking instructor will see you coming. She's probably gonna have to call up Gordon Ramsay to our school.

YellowMustang: Alsoooo... What's so scary about me figuring out who you are??

Bubblygirl04: Lmaoo Gordon Ramsay? No i definitely can't handle the pressure of him tasting my food, i would go into anxiety overload. And we talked about this, I don't think i'm ready to reveal who i am... Not quite yet anyway.. sorry :(

Just like that, he could feel his heart sink in his chest. Like blades being pulled out of it, he would always suggests that she tells him who she is, but she never seems to be ready. But Rick could understand, he wasn't sure if he was ready to reveal himself to her yet. He would never admit it but he was afraid she'd be disappointed. She's sweet, smart, talented and funny, he couldn't imagine losing her because he wasn't good enough.

Yellowmustang: Yeah ok, don't be sorry, i understand.. it's just.. sometimes i wish we could be something real.

Bubblygirl04: We are real?? Are we not??? We talk everyday, and we tell each other everything about our lives?

Yellowmustang: ... It's not real until i get to hold you... It's not real until i get to whisper in you ear that you're mine..

-read-

Rick's mind made up so many situations as to why she didn't reply, it's been forty minutes since he had sent the text and still, nothing. He lays down on his bed with both palms covering his face. He groans when the thought of his message comes across his mind. He wonders if he should get up and do something to distract himself, but honestly nothing can really take him mind of this girl.

A ping can be heard from his phone, Rick jumps up and sees the phone laying at the bottom of his bed. He chuckles with the hope that it's a text from the mystery girl. Leaning forward he grabs the phone and checks the notification. The banner across his phone reads "JSA GC". It was from the imessage group chat that him and the girls made a few weeks back. His excitement toned down when he realized it wasn't from the girl he had hoped.

Courtney: Rick!! WTF!?!??! You're like super late, where are you??!?!

Yolanda: Relax Court, i'm sure he's just held up... Rick we need you here, pat has a whole thing set up for us... You know how he is.

Rick: Sorry, i had something come up. But i'm on my way.

Rick sends the text and quickly gets up and puts on his shoes. He puts his hoodie on and rushes out the door. He knew that if he were any later, he would never hear the end of it from Courtney. He gets in his yellow mustang that belonged to his father, thanks to pat it's now a working engine. Driving to the Pit stop where the group is, Rick couldn't help but ponder on everything that happened with the mystery girl. But he knew he couldn't think about that at practice, he needed to have his full attention on practicing, the injustice society was still out there somewhere and they needed to be stopped.

Arriving at the pit stop entrance Rick is approached by Courtney immediately.

"What the hell rick? It took you long enough, doesn't taking down the ISA mean anything to you?" Courtney lectures.

"Yeah of course it does you know that, i just.. got caught up in something but it's fine now."

Yolanda walks towards Rick as she stands besides Courtney. "You okay rick?" Yolanda questions. She looks at Rick with a sincere concerned look, she could tell something had been bothering him.

Rick pretends not to notice her concern. "Yeah, i'm fine. Can we just get started already." He says while walking further into the pit stop. He notices Pat has dummies of the ISA up again, well at least they aren't as cheesy looking as the ones Courtney destroyed. There are around four cpr dummies on sticks decorated with makeup and costumes resembling the ISA members. Wow, is this what pat spends all his free time doing? Rick thought.

"Rick! Good to see you buddy. Alright now that we're all here, i'll tell you what we're going to be studying today." Pat stated to the four teens as they stand in front of the bleachers awaiting his instructions.

While Pat was rambling on about teamwork and it's important on the field, Rick zoned out after noticing Beth. Something was different, her hair wasn't down as it usually it, it was braided down into crown braids. Rick stared in awe as she shyly looked at Pat while paying close attention to what he was saying, she cared so much about these missions and never missed a single practice. Rick admired her efficiency, he admired her everything.

"Alright so today we're going to be focusing on how your abilities work together on the field. So we will start off with each of you being paired with one another and we'll see how you can use your powers to help each other out. Then we'll do one last practice with all four of you, got it?" Pat explained.

"Got it." The three girls say in unison.

"O-oh, yeah got it." Rick says shortly after them once he's focus is back on pat and off of beth.

Pat sets the dummy of icicle in the center of the room. "Alright first we need Courtney and Yolanda, let's see how stargirl and wildcat can work together to beat icicle." Pat states.

Courtney picks up the cosmic staff from beside her feet, she gets in a fighting stance. "Alright, i was born for this." She lets out eagerly.

"Uhh, Yeah me too!" Yolanda adds on.

"Okay let's go, and while we're practicing, Rick and Beth you guys can wait on the bleachers until it's your turn." Pat explains.

Beth goes to seat in the middle of the bleachers and sits down before taking out her phone and staring at it longingly. Rick's eyes follow her as he can't help but to gaze at her.

"Gee, i get lectured for being late only to be benched? Quite a team we have going here." Rick complains sarcastically before walking to sit next to beth, his legs began to rush because of his excitement of finally be able to be with her all day but he tries to slow down as to not seem too eager.

Booms and zaps can be heard as Courtney and Yolanda practice on the dummies. As always Courtney is complimenting herself after every success and Yolanda is just excited to put use of all the amazing things her cat suit can do. Rick watches them practice for a second before turning to Beth, she still had a sorrowful look on her face as she stared at her phone.

Rick notices she hasn't said a word to him all day, which was unusual of Beth, she's usually the first to initiate every conversation. She didn't ask anyone how their days were or talk about all the amazing things her and chuck talked about, nothing.

Taking a deep breath Rick tries to think of something to say to break the silence. "So... How are you beth?" He asks, sliding closer to her on the bench.

Beth looks up from her phone and towards Rick, their eyes meet. Rick heart begins to beat out of his chest as he glanced into her honey brown eyes.

"Oh hi rick.." Beth says looking up from her phone. "I'm fine... Super excited for practice.. How about you?" Beth says, not sounding like her normal chipper self.

Rick couldn't help but think back to the mystery girl, because for a while he had hoped beth would reveal that she was behind the account. It made sense, both beth and the mystery girl had so much in common. They both are have no siblings, they have distant parents and not to mention their talent for cooking and baking. But Rick thought he was just getting his hopes up, he felt as if he let his existing crush on beth cloud his judgement.

Even though Rick really liked this mystery girl, his heart belonged to beth since the first grade. Ever since she was the only one to remember his birthday (rick's asshat of an uncle was too drunk to bother remembering). She brought him in cupcakes that she made herself, they were chocolate and fudge, with vanilla frosting and the words "happy b day rick" written on top in green frosting. Him and Beth sat together at recces that day and at the cupcakes on the bench.

Rick was never the type to remember specific details, but he could easily go on about the gorgeous blue sundress beth wore that day, he remembered her telling him she wanted to wear something special for his big day. She sang him happy birthday in the most beautiful harmony. He never forgot how beautiful she sounded, even when the teachers couldn't bother to do something for his birthday, he knew he could always count on beth.

"I'm okay i guess." Rick responds fidgeting in his seat.

"Well thats good to hear." Beth says going to look back at her phone.

Rick notices how often she had been staring at her phone screen today, which was fairly unusual. Beth was never the type to use her phone during conversations. "You waiting on a text?" Rick suggests, hoping to get some type of explanation out of her.

Beth jumps and quickly puts her phone away upon hearing those words. "No, it's nothing i was just thinking about something a friend of mine sent me." She says vaguely, turning her vision to rick finally.

He could tell something was wrong, he knew her better than he knew himself. "Hey, how about we let wildcat and stargirl do their thing in here, and go get some fresh air while we wait for our turn." Rick suggests, hoping to get some alone time with beth for the first time today.

"Sure! I could use a breath of fresh air." Beth responds, getting up and walking towards the exist, rick follows behind her.

The summer sun rays touch Rick's skin, the heat was really starting to come in now that summer has officially started. He smiled and watched as beth took off her cardigan and tied it around her waist.

"So, umm beth... I think i have something that i want to ask you, i mean i have been wanting to ask you about this for some time, but i was a little too embarrassed in case you'd say no and it's well its a lot-" Rick rambled on, preparing himself for what he was about to ask, he couldn't believe he had finally gained the courage to do so.

Beth walk closer to rick, placing her hand gently on his arm to calm his nerves. "What is it rick? You know you can tell me anything!" She reassures him.

He did know, thats what made her so amazing. "Beth... I have feelings for you." Rick admits.

For a second it felt like time had stopped as rick glanced at beth's precious face to see her reaction to his words. She gapes her mouth and her eyes widen in shock. He soft hold on Rick's arm becomes a soft grip.

"You... have feelings for me?" Beth asks rhetorically. Rick nods his head in responds, he slightly pouts, afraid of what she might say next.

"Do you feel the same way?" He asks. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his palms were dripping with sweat. He felt as if he could faint any second.

Beth eyes light up, her shocked expression turns into a grin. "Oh my god- RICK!?!? OF COURSE I LIKE YOU!" She shouts as she rushes in for a hug.

The warmth of Beth affection calms Rick down immanently, a grin as bright as the sun comes across rick's face as he sighs out of relief. They embrace each other for some time, not even realizing how much time had passed.

Once the hugs ends, beth lays her hands on rick's shoulders, as he grabs her waist slighting to bring her closer to his height. Rick's heart flutters as he stares into beth's eyes, he would always catch glances of her eyes when they hung out, but he was always to shut to look into them for too long. But not today, he felt like he could stare into her eyes forever, looking at her had always made him feel safe.

Rick couldn't even think about the mystery girl, whoever she was, if she wasn't beth, it didn't matter to him.

"Can i confess something to you Rick?" Beth questions, with a look of concern in her eyes.

"You can tell me anything, beth." Rick replies, he knew that she couldn't say anything that would dim his happiness. The girl of his dreams had just admitted to having feelings for him too, this moment was too special to be ruined.

"Well, i've kind of been having a thing with this guy-" Beth begins, those words sank Rick's heart. He never experienced such intense jealousy in his life, the euphoria he felt had slowly began to fade away as he listened to beth speak.

"And well we met online and never actually talked in person, in fact i'm not exactly sure who he is. And I don't know if i'm gonna keep talking to him, because... whenever i talk to him, i've always imagined you." Beth lets out.

Rick's joy comes rushing back upon hearing the end of beth's sentence. She imagined him, even when she talked to other guys, he always dreamed of being on her mind as much as she was on his. Then slowly, rick's logic comes into play when he ponders upon beth's situation with this guy.

He thought back to how he was in an exact similar situation but with a girl, could it be? After all this time imagining beth, could it actually be that Rick was right.

Before he could even think of the words to say in response to beth's confession, rick leans in his lips brushed her, delicately. The warmth from her lips caused rick to shiver as he cupped the back of her neck with his right hand.

After a while, when the kiss is over, rick dazedly stared into beth's eyes again. She stared back, her face surprised but pleased with Rick's response.

"Hey beth." He says.

"Yes?" She replies.

Rick leans into her ear and whispers, "You're mine." He could feel beth freeze up upon hearing him speak those words, just like that it clicked to her as well. "Now it's real." He says finally.

#hournite #hournite fic #fanfic #beth chapel #rick tyler #Courtney Whitmore #Yolanda Montez #pat dugan #stargirl #dc stargirl #my work

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elizabeth-234 · 4 years ago

Text

Iron Dad Bingo

Previous Chapter: Tony Finds the Kid Part One

Hi all! Sorry my writing has been slow recently. I hope you are all doing well. Thank you for reading!

I think I'm going to write one more chapter from Peter's POV so look out for that :)

Summary: Because even though Tony is a genius, math is not always math sometimes.

Chapter Four: Tony Finds the Kid Part Two

The kid sighed and nodded while folding the napkin over on itself again. He told Tony it was fine; he didn’t expect him to agree to his request when his fidgeting froze at Tony’s words and his eyes zeroed in on Tony.

“Wait, you mean it?” The kid’s eyes grew so god damn big and full. Tony smiled and though his heart ached he answered in the affirmative.

“Anytime, anyplace.” He said.

“Oh, well, thank you! I mean really. I know this stuff is kind of boring but, like I said, it would be quick and easy. And… it would mean a lot to me.”

Tony had no response to the statement besides the vague feeling of inadequacy rising up and nesting in his chest. He rubbed his collar trying to alleviate the sensation when the kid reached over and hugged him. Like a malfunction in hardware Tony froze unable to comprehend. He froze and under the warmth of the kid’s arms melted into the hug.

He cleared his throat and they separated, going back to the work at hand and ignoring the static of awkwardness hovering in the air.

Peter waited as he grabbed his phone from behind the counter and the two exited the café together.

“I’m this way.” He said which was the opposite way Tony was heading.

“Are you safe to get home?”

“Yep, I live right around the corner.”

Tony tried not to make a face at that statement. The kid said he was fine, but he reached into his pocket anyway.

“Here’s my phone number. Call me if you need anything.” He said and handed Peter a Split Bean card with his phone number scrawled on it.

“Good night. Thank you again!” Peter said over his shoulders.

Tony watched as the kid walked down the street and disappeared into the night. He sighed and began walking the other way, ready to get some sleep.

“I think we have to move the i over to this side of the equation.”

They were circled around the corner table. Doug was behind the counter serving the morning crowd. Tony’s shift was over but the kid had a math test coming up. They were on their third cup of coffee each.

“No, I swear my teacher said we have to do it this way.”

Peter twisted the paper around to face him. In the margins he scrawled the process from when he’d been taught. It was the wrong way in Tony’s opinion.

“What kind of equation is that? You can’t just move the elements around at will. There are rules behind it.”

It was all wrong and Tony wrote it down again, pointing to his correction. Peter sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. His companion grasped the paper and turned it back around. The pen hovered over the page before diving forward and scribbling over Tony’s previous notes.

“Chicken scratch is what that is.” Tony muttered at Peter’s triumphant smile. The equation balanced out and he was at a loss. “Math is math.” He stared at the paper, trying to convince himself that math was indeed as it was and always had been, and failing.

“Anthony?” Peter said.

“Kid, I honestly can say I don’t know what you did there and I’m almost scared to find out.”

Peter snorted and Tony’s eyes flew to the kid’s face. He covered his mouth but a giggle emerged soon after. Without meaning to Tony found himself laughing right along with Peter.

The atmosphere was cozy, keeping the cool weather from the elements safely outside. Coffee smells and soft acoustic music filled the air while the rush came for their morning pickups before they went on with their days. Doug glanced over at the two of them. His beard angled upward as a smile swept over his face at his newest barista and customer talked in hush tones at his café.

He was late to work. Time kept moving faster and faster, and before he knew it his shift was supposed to start and he was stuck in a never-ending line of traffic. Evidently the city didn’t get the memo he needed to get to Queens.

For once when Tony blamed the meetings for his time management failings it would be the truth. As with the city, his employees and board members didn’t get their memos either and he was stuck listening to… something. He’d have to remember to go over the minutes later to go over what he missed.

There wasn’t enough time to take the subway so Tony was forced to drive. His least conspicuous car turned out to still turn heads and he wondered if he should invest in an undercover car.

He parked in the poor excuse for a parking lot in the back and hurried into the building.

“Hey Doug.” He shouted at the man settled back in his office.

“Hey is for horses. How’s it going today?”  

“Aches and pains, aches and pains.”  

Doug rubbed his shoulder as Tony put on an apron and motioned for him to come in the office.

Photos lined the walls. Some were old and yellowing at the edges while others were newer, showing off the coffee events they held at the Bean. Tony was featured in one. He was wearing a lobster costume next to Doug who was in a padded-out Captain America suit. Tony thought he got the better outfit out of it.

His eyes wandered to a photo of a small bundle.

“She’s beautiful”

“Amelie, my daughter.” Doug said with a sparkle in his eye. “Poor thing cried for hours before we got there and then at the studio was as calm as ever. I wonder what goes on in their tiny baby brain”

“I wouldn’t know.” Tony said.

Doug stared at him, rubbing his fingers along the edges of his beard. His eyes didn’t lose any of the sparkle.

“You never know. Maybe someday.”

Tony cleared his throat.

“So, what did you need me for.”  

Doug shifted in his chair. He started straightening up some papers lying on the desk and Tony thought he was stalling.

“Well, you know I’ve been grateful for what you’ve been doing and all the staff really, but, um, this is rough, but the stores been slower than usual and would you mind waiting for a paycheck? Just until we get going in the next month or so.”

Tony was already nodding.

“Don’t you worry about that, Doug. I’m good right now so concentrate on The Bean and not me. Make sure to put me last on the list, everyone else goes first.”

Doug patted Tony’s hand.

“You’re a good kid.” He said and Tony’s throat closed up.

He scrambled from the room after another round of poorly deserved gratitude from his boss and found his place behind the counter. There were many ideas of ways he could help The Bean and he started brainstorming. He could make an anonymous donation or a Stark Industries donation. He could do both.

The plans were enough of a distraction that he failed to realize Peter hadn’t arrived at the café. He spent his whole shift glancing over his shoulder and peering through the window paint at the increasingly empty sidewalk.

Where was Peter?

Tony was making Qadan’s drink when the day got worse.

He spotted someone in a sweatshirt and backpack through the window, but they continued walking without looking up. The ache resonated through his chest at the sight of the back of the hoodie.

His hands trembled.

Cup, coffee, and ice all tumbled to the ground.

“You okay, man?” His customer called out but Tony didn’t respond.

He stepped from behind the counter and toward the door, placing a hand flat against the glass. His hands pricked at the cold but he opened and stepped out.

“Peter!” He called out but the figure down the sidewalk didn’t stop.

“Hey, kid?” Tony ran forward, the itching grew worse with every step. “Peter?”

He reached his hand out and…it wasn’t the kid. A stranger scowled at him and stepped backward with his hands up to create space between them.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“Whatever.” The stranger said and kept walking. Tony noticed the new stitching of the backpack. The crisp corners and strong straps of its material.

He was left walking back to the store alone, but it didn’t give him that feeling like previous walks.

Where was the kid?

A more cynical portion of his mind said he was taking it too far. Someone as smart and capable as Peter couldn’t want help from someone like him; didn’t need someone to worry about him.

He shook off those thoughts and saw Qadan waiting for him.

“Sorry about that. Thought I saw someone.” He said, and ignoring the spilled drink went back to making the order.

“No problem, Anthony.” He said. “I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Tony handed the cup across the counter.

“And what about Sarnai?” He said. “She given up on you?”

“Not yet, not yet and I thank the stars every day. Three months until our second is blessed into this world.” 

Tony whistled and stopped Qadan from reaching for his wallet.

“Congrats again. Can’t wait to see the photos. It’s on the house. Thanks again for being patient.” 

The man smiled and stuck some money in the tip jar before waving and heading out.

Tony imagined his partner and children. A full house. Someone there for him. Children laughing and playing.

The images were concrete. He could picture everything down the messy hallways and necessary times of hiding in the bathroom. Tempting as they were it didn’t sit right within himself.

He’d never thought he would have children despite his father wanting to pass down the Stark legacy. A shudder rippled through him. The Stark legacy was something he never wanted to pass down; something no one deserved.

Still, there was something tugging at him. The images wouldn’t disappear entirely.

His thoughts turned to Peter.

And he promptly shook his head.

The kid needed help and he was happy to provide. There was no need to look deeper into the matter. Often times life brought people into his life only to take them away at a moment’s notice and it was fine. His mother always told him to be thankful for what you had in the moment and as a child he lived by those words. The present was here and now, and he should be thankful for having that. But as he grew older he wondered if he wasn’t listening to his father speaking through his mom. If the shadows he felt creeping closer weren’t something he should run from instead of being thankful for.

Before he knew it, Tony was walking back out back to his car, shift done for the morning. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the street turning once, twice, and passing a bus stop. Someone stood waiting in the terminal. Their hood was pulled up blocking their face from view.

He remembered the stranger from earlier. His chase and imagination getting away from him and saw the figure continue to look down, not moving.

Tony drove by without stopping.

He turned the corner, slowed down for a stop sign, and looked out his rear window. The street was empty behind him but his fingers tingled on the steering wheel.

The car idled.

Tony swore under his breath and turned the steering wheel. The lone figure wrapped in shadows played in the back of his mind.

Lights flooded the bus stop and the figure raised a hand to their face to block the light. Tony gripped the steering. The straps of the backpack were worn to threads.

“Are you okay?” He called out of the window rolling down.

The figure stepped backward and Tony leaned forward to see further out the window. He caught sight of a spattering of freckles and brown mop of hair.

“Peter?” He said. The figure startled forward and Peter stepped up to the car.

“Anthony? Why are you- Is this your car?”

Tony laughed and nodded.

“Sure is, kid. You need a ride?” Peter stepped back.

“Uh, no. It’s okay. No worries. I’m waiting for a bus and it should be coming… soon.”

The sidewalk and streets were empty. Sun peaked out from over the buildings. The newly born rays lighting a sliver of where Peter was standing from behind. Tony raised a hand to block the sun out of his eyes.

“It’s not any inconvenience to me. I promise.”

Peter hesitated and Tony unlocked the door. He reached over and unlatched the door, swinging it open. The kid looked around before sighing. With tiny paces, Peter stepped up to the curb and opened the door the rest of the way. His back was stiff as a board, parallel and not touching the leather seats in the car.

“Habits die hard I suppose but can I get you anything to drink? I have…” He rummaged around in the middle console. “An emergency water bottle or a half full bag of Chex mix. Sorry, I know it’s not the best.”  

“It’s okay. Thank you, but I’m good.” Peter said. His hood continued to stay up, blocking the kid’s face from view and Tony wasn’t sure what to do.

Right.

“Where are you going? Keep going straight here?”

Peter nodded and they continued in silence broken by Peter’s sparse directions. His eyes drifted from the road to the passenger seat. His back was hunched forward like it always was in the café, bent over books and papers, endlessly working.

“So, uh, what are you up to?” He said and after a moment began again. “Is that weird? Am I allowed to ask?”

Peter chuckled and a cough interrupted. His hands came up to cover his face, covering the little visibility Tony had. Low wheezes hissed up from his chest and out his mouth. The kid lowered his hand and reflected in the lights of the street Tony saw red.

He hit the break, thankful no one was around his less than stellar driving. The seatbelts tightened against them and Peter whimpered from the pressure. Tony’s heart throbbed at the noise, at the splotches on the kid’s hand, the way he stood alone waiting for a bus that may never come.

“Shit, kid. Are you bleeding?”

“I’m fine.”

Tony gripped the steering wheel. Peter’s voice was low, tired and seemed too even compared to Tony’s higher pitched questions.

“Your hand would say otherwise.” Tony said and Peter shrugged. “Look at me.”

He said it soft and Tony could feel the heart pounding in his chest. This was Peter. The kid who looked to him for help, who had found his way to the cafe like Tony had. Why all the sudden was he not ready to accept help? Why was he hiding?

“Peter, I only want to help. Let me see.”  

Peter’s hands were pale and stark against the blood as he reached for his hoodie. The material fell down to his back and after taking a breath Peter turned toward him allowing Tony to gaze at his face for the first time that night.

His eyes were closed.

One was squeezed tight, like he was nervous of Tony’s reaction. The other was swollen closed. Red and pink lined the enlarged skin. His nose was crusted over along the nostrils but a trail of fresh maroon dripped down onto his lip and down his chin.

Tony swore and pulled to the side of the road. He couldn’t stop the trembling in his hands as he searched the console again. There had to be wipes or something in there to help but he came up empty.

“Are you in pain? Can you move your eye? Is anything broken?” Questions tumbled from his mouth as his hands frantically rummaged around. He leant back into the seat and felt for the coin in his pocket, pulling it out and holding it between his fingers.

Peter was silent but Tony could feel the eyes on him.

“I’m fine. It was just a minor disagreement between myself and some others.”  

“As in more than one? That looks like more than a simple disagreement.”

Another shrug and Tony had to fight the urge to yell into oblivion.

“Okay, what do I do?” He said to himself. “We need to get you to the hospital.”

“No!” Peter said. “I don’t need to go there. It’s too expensive.” He said and Tony was about to offer, to say it didn’t matter when the kid added. “I’ve had worse anyway.”

And if that didn’t make Tony’s stomach clench. He stared at the steering wheel trying to think of something they could do.

Peter reached over the seats and laid a hand atop of Tony’s fidgeting ones. The kid squeezed once and held his palm up, leaving it up to Tony whether he would part with the trinket. Tony ran a thumb over the metal and dropped it into his outstretched hand. Peter brought it over in front of him to inspect it.

There was only a barely perceptible widening of his eyes but none of the guilt or accusations Tony expected came. And though it was something he never wanted broadcasted to the world, in the car and under the guise of a barista with this particular person, he was glad someone knew of his continued recovery. He felt something loosen in his chest with the knowledge that Peter knew of his struggles.

“My- my uncle had one of these.” Peter muttered. He flipped the coin back and forth between his thumbs. “He used to carry it around in his pocket, take it out and let me hold it when I was nervous about something. Used to be about school a lot of the time, now I dig it out of its place on the mantel when I miss him.”

Tony pushed the hand away.

“You can hold it now.” He said.

Peter smiled and brought the coin back in front of him. Tony started the car and found the nearest store. The aisles were empty besides the woman behind the counter talking in quiet tones on the phone. Peter wandered behind him, feet dragging, as they made a beeline for the frozen section. A bag of peas, bottle of antiseptic, band aids, and a few snacks later the two were back in the car.

Tony placed his hand against the side of the kid’s head to balance while his other hand swabbed the kids nose. He muttered an apology as the antiseptic wiped the crusted bits away and stung the raw wound underneath. Peter’s eye stared back at him.

“Someone packed a good punch.” He commented.

“I wish I could say ‘you should see the other guy’ but he had a killer right hook.”

“What, may I ask, caused this display of skills?” Tony pressed the peas onto the kids nose and motioned for him to hold it there.

“It’s stupid and I know I shouldn’t get upset, but they don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

Peter shrugged again. Tony was beginning to realize why all his tutors hated the action when he was a kid.

“They think I’m not good enough to go to Midtown. They think because May works two jobs that she’s stupid and I’m stupid because I’m there on a scholarship. I’ve been trying so hard to prove them wrong this year. I know I’m not stupid but I want to be the best. Then I found the café at random one night after walking for hours trying to come up with a solution. You were there and everything was going so well. But I was careless.” He sniffled. “I tried out for the decathlon team. I made it over them. Some of them were mad, I guess… wasn’t watching on my way home and they were there. They said I shouldn’t bother with school, that I should stay at home.”

Tony’s head spun at the whole rant… but he knew Peter wouldn’t give up so easily.

“I sense a ‘but’ somewhere in there.”

 Peter’s hands clenched over the coin.

“I know I can prove them wrong. I will.”  

Tony smiled. He tossed a bag of kettle chips over to Peter and started the car. Peter stared out the window and though he wanted to find those kids, he was beyond proud of the kid for not giving up.

Tony thought back to his earlier daydream. Maybe they weren’t so far out of reach. Maybe they would just be a bit different than he imagined.

“You already are, kid.”  

They sat in front of a building full of apartments. Balconies filled with barbeques, towels hanging off, and every type of plant imaginable protruded out from each home. The pea bag dripped condensation onto Peter’s hoodie and the seat of the car.

The kid was talking, waving his arms around, about some test he took. A test they studied for a week ago in the café.

Tony couldn’t help the warmth thrumming through his lungs. Peter was next to him; a little worse for wear but happy and wholly Peter. His eyes were wide. Enthusiasm brightened the dark brown. Tony rubbed his knuckles together to ease some of the tension of fisting them before.

Peter waited for a response to something Tony didn’t hear.

“You didn’t hear what I said, did you?” Peter laughed and Tony shrugged.

“Not a damn word.” 

“Ah, that’s okay. You’ll just have to wait until next time to hear the story about how I almost broke into Oscorp the other day.”

Tony choked. Water clouded his eyes as he coughed, thumping his chest with his fist.

“You did what?” He said not believing the kid would do something so reckless and hoping it wasn’t true.

Peter’s hand was on the door and he clicked it open, glancing back with a shit-eating grin.

“Like I said. It will have to wait until next time.”  

Tony sputtered and Peter tossed one leg out the car. He held up the pea bag but Tony put his hands up.

“Keep them. I’m not a fan.”

Peter paused before turning around and facing Tony again. He reached across the middle of the car and before Tony knew it, the kid’s arms were wrapped around him. Again.

It was just as warm and wonderful as before, though slightly less foreign. He returned the gesture without haste. His arms held Peter as tight as he could in a car.

“Thank you.” Peter said. He slid out of the car, waving from the steps up the apartments.

Tony looked up at an older couple watching from their balcony and smiled up at them before driving away.

He paced from one end of the hall to the other. His hands hung at his sides and he stuck them into his pockets to keep from trembling. The halls felt like they were closing in on him. They were smaller than he remembered from his time in high school but then again, he was much younger, and shorter, than the typical student.

He couldn’t believe he was here and doing this. There was no way he would ever get over that he was about to present his ‘career’. Not Stark Industries, the billion-dollar company, but his day job (night job really, he corrected) as a barista.

There was something wrong other than the halls and coffee apron he wore. Something itched the back of his skin. He couldn’t stop walking. He was helpless against the urge to pace.

The whole endeavor was risky. He could be recognized at the very least. And then there was the real problem that he wanted to tell Peter the truth. He felt like it was time.

“Tell him what exactly?” He said to the hallow space.

That he’d been lying. He was really someone else. Not Anthony but someone else entirely. Someone most people didn’t like.

Someone Peter may not like.

Those all set a knot twisting in his stomach but turning back to the classroom Tony had this vague notion it would be worse if he didn’t do it. He didn’t think he could see the look on Peter’s face when he found out about it all but it would be worse if one of his schoolmates knew first.

The kid deserved better than the present filled with its shadows and uncertainties. He deserved the future too and all that came with it. Even if the future didn’t involve him.

He hoped he would.

Peter walked up to him and smiled. He ran a hand through his hair. The kid hugged him again and welcomed him to Midtown High School. Tony managed not to be a total inept person and hugged him back.

“Ready to show us all how to make a flat white? I have this… friend I want to impress with this knowledge so I better learn something.” 

Tony chuckled.

“I can show you all the coffee skills, kid. I’m no amateur, you know.” 

They made to walk into the classroom but something held him back.

“Hey, Peter. Before we get this show going. Can we talk for a moment?” 

Peter nodded and they stood in front of a bulletin board advertising soccer tryouts and the prom.

“Look, this probably isn’t the best time but I have to… that is you deserve to know that…I’m not Anthony. Well, I am but I’m not who you think. And, well, my name is Tony Stark.” He stuck out his hand so they could shake and felt Peter slid his smaller hand in his. Tony looked up to find Peter smiling.

The kid was smiling at his lie.

“What?” He snapped.

Peter laughed again and shrugged.

“Anthony, I’ve known who you are since you gave me your phone nunder and if the card didn’t give you away, your car certainly tipped me off.”  

Tony’s mouth opened then snapped shut as he regarded the smug quirk of Peter’s lips.

“That was a Bean card.”  

Peter blushed.

“I may or may not have hacked into your phone.”  

“You what? How?”Peter shrugged. He cracked his fingers. “I’m impressed, kid. Not many could do that.”  

“You looked familiar. I was curious and bored. It’s a dangerous combination.”

“I’m beginning to find out. Should I be upset? All I can bring myself to be is impressed with your dedication. Maybe you should come work for me?”  

He said. Half of an idea formed in his head and Peter was bouncing up and down.

“So, kid. After me lying, of knowing who I was, you still want me to give a lecture of coffee or do you want Tony Stark, or even Iron Man?”

The palms of his hands began sweating. He couldn’t decide what answer would be worse.

If the kid wanted Anthony or Tony. Iron Man or barista.

Of course, Peter gave the best answer he could have hoped for.

The kid shrugged and slipped something into Tony’s hand.

“It doesn’t matter. As long as you are here. I’m happy. I’ll see you in there. Thanks for coming.”

He gave Tony another hug and began walking back.

Tony looked down to see the coin in his hand. He hadn’t realized Peter had never returned it until its familiar weight was back in his hand. He clenched it in his fist and jogged to catch up. Tony threw an arm over Peter’s shoulder, pulling the kid closer.

“You know, I might take you up on that job offer.” Peter said, blushing and glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

“First, I’ll have to fortify the Tower so we won’t get hacked again. Pepper will never let me live it down. A 15-year-old cracked into the ‘smartest’ building in the world.”  

Peter leaned into his side and smiled up at Tony.

He watched Peter taking notes from his seat in the front while he presented to the classroom. His pen, like all their hours at the café, barely paused on the surface in an effort to get everything he said down on the page.

Maybe he was crazy for being there.

The past year of his life had been nothing but crazy. A split-second decision had landed him in The Split Bean.

Standing in front of a bunch of high school students Tony had never felt more himself. He could see their drive, a passion in their eyes, and admired them all for working so hard.

He thought back to the hours spent with Peter, how they went over lessons and arithmetic. The time he spent during meetings brushing up on newer processes to be able to learn with Peter.

Tony smiled again and slipped the coin into his pocket. Future plans and a new potential employee floated around in his mind. Of course, he would need to figure out a way to stop anymore bored and curious teenagers from hacking into his system before anyone else tried. Friday would have to be brought up to date as well and Peter… well, Tony was sure he had a place perfect for him.

Fate works in mysterious ways. Tony wasn’t sure who to thank for the small sprig that brought Peter into his life but he was going to work hard to make sure the kid was okay.

While everyone on Earth knew of his secret Identity as Iron Man. Peter Parker knew of his other secret identity as Anthony. A barista working at The Split Bean who learned that while math is not always constant, a good cup of coffee and friendship is unchangeable.

Thank you all.

Taglist: @whatisthou @warmwithafewfrostymoments

#peter parker #tony stark #peter parker fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #irondad bingo #irondad and spiderson #irondad #irondad fanfiction #barista tony stark #student peter parker #career day #marvel fanfiction #mcu #coffee shop AU

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ryqoshay · 4 years ago

Text

How to Handle a Nico - Dinner at the Nishikino’s

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~4.1k Rating: K Time Frame: Late in Maki’s 1st year and Nico’s 3rd year in college. Story Arc: Stand Alone

Author’s Note: This chapter was assembled from a patchwork of about a dozen instances I wanted to include and thus wrote each separately. And somewhere along the lines, MS Word decided not to sync between my PC and mobile devices, so I ended up with two, slightly differently edited versions. Thus, here’s hoping my self-purported prowess with prose was successful in stitching this scene into a sensible structure. Please forgive any unsightly seams.

Nico couldn’t remember the last time she had been this nervous. No, wait, just a few days ago, her first date with Maki. Well, first official date, not counting all of the not-actually-date-but-technically-were-dates from years prior. Unfortunately, that was quickly falling into second place as she approached the gate to the Nishikino home.

Perhaps the date had been easier because she knew Maki, knew Maki liked her, knew Maki liked spending time with her, knew Maki wanted to date her, and was fairly confident Maki was attracted to her. She had known all of these things even before they started dating officially. As such, looking back, she wasn’t sure why she had been so nervous for their first date, because with the exception of one little hiccup named Etsuko, it had all gone splendidly.

But the parental Nishikinos were more of an unknown. Nico had met both of Maki’s parents a handful of times throughout the years, but had never really gotten to know either. She was all but certain she would have little problems with Maki’s mother as she had apparently been talking behind the scenes with her mother about her and Maki’s developing relationship. And she had been quite supportive of Maki’s time as a school idol, so Nico didn’t think she would object to her intended career choice.

Maki’s father on the other hand… Nico remembered quite vividly when he almost made Maki quit being a school idol after her grades slipped the tiniest of bits; not even enough for her to drop from her position as top of her class. Umi had been the one to stand up to him, which made sense insofar as she understood having parents with high expectations. Still, looking back, Nico couldn’t help feeling a bit of regret that she hadn’t been the one to protect Maki. Sure, she had offered her support, but…

“Good evening, Yazawa-san.” A voice came over the speaker.

Nico jumped. Had she even pushed the button to announce her presence?

“Yes, good evening.” She replied as she recognized the voice of the Nishikino estate manager.

“Ojou-sama has informed me of pending arrival, though as always, you are most welcome here.”

“Thanks.” Nico replied as the buzzer sounded to indicate the gate was unlocked.

One gate down, literally. Nico thought as she made her way toward the front door. Though part of her wished Maki had been the one to answer the intercom, she was nonetheless thankful that it had been a member of the house staff with whom she got along well. At least it hadn’t been…

“D-Dr. Nishikino?” Nico sputtered as the door suddenly swung open to reveal a towering, bespectacled man who immediately fixed her with a cool and calculating gaze.

Damn. Why had she stuttered? This wasn’t the first time she had met Maki’s father, and if all went well tonight, it wouldn’t be the last. You can do this Nico! Sure it wasn’t the man she expected and she was caught a bit unaware, but… Gah! Stop being intimidated. You’re here for a reason! And that reason is Maki-chan!

“Yazawa-san.” Maki’s father stated flatly.

“Hi…” Nico cutoff by clearing her throat. “Good evening.” She corrected, offering a polite bow. “I’m…”

“I’m afraid my daughter will be unable to entertain your visit tonight.” Dr. Nishikino interrupted. “We are expecting an important guest who should be arriving presently.”

I’m an important guest? No, wait, of course I am! I’m Maki’s girlfriend now. So, buck up and tell him that.

“Yes, sir, that guest is me.” For emphasis, Nico indicated the stylish dress she had picked out specifically for the occasion. “I’m Maki’s date.”

“…” Dr. Nishikino raised an eyebrow but remained steadfast in his position.

“Nico-chan!” the voice of an angelic savior came from behind the barrier of the paternal Nishikino. “Papa, let her in.”

Dr. Nishikino stepped aside and…

Holy… Nico had to make a conscious effort to avoid letting her jaw hit the floor. Not that Nico, at any point, had forgotten that Maki was beautiful, but when the redhead went all out, it was all she could do not to stare. Though elegantly modest, the deep purple dress still managed to highlight Maki’s best features.

“You’re early.” Maki said, bringing Nico back to reality.

“I’m sorry, did I take you away from your precious piano?” Nico couldn’t help teasing a bit, figuring the younger girl had wanted to arrive at her parents’ home earlier for a few moments of nostalgia with the instrument she grew up playing.

“Yeah, actually.” Maki admitted as she glanced away sheepishly.

“Well maybe after dinner, you can continue your concert, but with an audience?” Nico pointed herself as if it wasn’t already obvious who she meant.

“I’d like that.”

“You look lovely, by the way. Purple always looks good on you, Maki-chan.”

“Thanks.” Maki replied as pink dusted her cheeks. “You look good too. I like when you leave your hair down. It makes you look more…” She trailed off.

“More?”

“Sorry, I meant…”

“More mature?” Nico completed what she believed to be her girlfriend’s thought.

“Uhm… yeah…”

“I’ll have you know Nico is always mature.” She squared her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips pridefully.

Maki raised an eyebrow in a way that left no question as to her linage.

“Anyway, I haven’t seen that dress before, is it new?”

Maki nodded. “Mama and I just got back a little while ago from picking it out.”

Huh… Mama and I were also just out shopping for my dress. Nico thought to herself. And, wait a minute… “We match.” Or at least they matched in the way their old idol costumes matched in overall theme and enough details to be an obvious set while maintaining enough individuality to be unique as well.

“We do?” Maki glanced down at herself before back at Nico. After half a second, she smiled. “Yeah, we do. What a nice coincidence.”

Nico found herself wondering if the coincidence was perchance planned by a pair of meddling mothers who meant well. She made a mental note to ask her mother about the issue later, if for no other reason than to thank her for the cute gesture.

“So, dinner isn’t for a little while yet” Maki continued “but they might have appetizers ready already so why don’t we head to the dining room and I’ll quick check?”

“Lead the way.” Nico decided not to bring up how she still got lost in the huge house, even after visiting frequently over the last few years.

“You coming, Papa?”

Nico realized she had all but forgotten the paternal Nishikino was still there. Stealing a quick side glance, she found him quietly observing the couple. If she was reading things correctly, his aura had warmed somewhat, though was no less calculating than before; gears were obviously grinding behind his stoic expression.

“Your mother and I will meet you at the table.” Dr. Nishikino stated. “I’ll go find her.”

As Maki took her hand to lead her through the house, Nico noticed her grip was tighter than normal. A lot tighter. Maki was more nervous than she was letting on. Just how worried was she about her father’s approval of their relationship? Nico already knew Maki’s mother was wholly supportive, as was her own, but the only things she really knew about Maki’s father were that he had high expectations for his daughter and was not particularly fond of idols.

“Wait, Maki-chan,” Nico said, stopping in the hallway before they reached their destination “hold up a moment.”

“Eh?” Maki uttered, not seeming to notice the change and almost yanking Nico’s arm out of the socket before being held to a halt. “Nico-chan?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Maki.” Nico fixed her girlfriend with a steady stare. The redhead returned the gaze, though was far more furtive, and when she began to fidget with her hair, Nico reached out and gently touched her hand. “What’s wrong?” She repeated.

Maki released a puff of air. “I’m nervous, alright? I… I just really want Papa to like you.”

“I’m nervous too.” Nico admitted, her thoughts racing through things she could say to calm them both down. “But you know, he didn’t turn me away at the door, so that’s gotta count for something, right?” She paused for a moment. “Well, technically, he did, but that was before he realized why I was here, but he still let me in, so that has to mean he’s willing to give me a chance, right?”

“I just… I know he’ll bring up idols, and…”

“Maki-chan.” Nico took a step in to close some of the distance between them. “Nico didn’t become the No. 1 Idol in the Universe without learning a thing or two about reading her audience.”

“…” Maki’s expression wasn’t one of disbelief but of continued concern.

“Look, I’m not going to lie to your father about my career of choice, but I’m also not going to try to convert him into a fan or convince him that idols are the most amazing thing ever, even if I believe that myself.”

“I know…”

“And I am attending college and aim to get a degree.” Nico continued. “Sure it won’t be a fancy medical degree like yours, but I’m getting it while still being an idol. So that’s also gotta count for something, right?”

“Papa does respect hard work.”

“And Nico is a hard worker.”

“I know.” Maki affirmed, dropping her hand before leaning her head into Nico’s hand. “Nico-chan is one of the hardest workers I know when it comes to working toward her goals. It’s always admired, and envied, about you.”

Nico scoffed. “You say that as if you don’t work hard as well, Maki-chan.”

“Mmm…” Maki hummed in a tone that implied she was paying attention to something other than the conversation at hand.

Hand… Maki closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek against Nico’s hand, causing her to open her fingers to increase contact. It should be fine here, right? Nico moved in the rest of the way and tilted her chin up. Maki followed her hand as Nico guided her down. Their lips touched and…

“Oh dear…” A startled voice uttered, causing the couple to jolt away from each other. “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, Ojou-sama.”

“I-It’s f-fine…” A blushing Maki stumbled through.

Nico recognized the woman one of the newer members of the Nishikino house staff. She was responsible for general assistance wherever needed.

“Welcome, Yazawa-san.” The woman said with a polite bow, but when she righted herself, her expression was thoughtful. “Although, now that you’re dating Ojou-sama, perhaps Yazawa-sama is more appropriate?”

“Just Nico is fine.” Nico assured.

“Right, anyway, I’m on my away to retrieve some bottles of Cloudy Bay at the behest of the master.”

“White?” Maki inquired.

The woman nodded. “We’ve prepared a delightful shrimp pasta for the main course.” She turned to Nico. “Ojou-sama has informed us of your talent in the kitchen, so we hope to meet your standards, Yazawa-sama.”

Guess the new title is going to stick. Nico thought to herself. “I’m sure it will be great.”

“The caprese salads should be ready if you wish to head to the dining room now.”

“Tomatoes, of course.” Nico couldn’t help commenting.

“Yes.” The staff member confirmed. “We have also been informed of one of your preferences, so for dessert, we will be serving traditional crepes with lemon and sugar.”

“Sounds delicious.”

The woman smiled before bowing again to excuse herself and hurrying down the hall.

“Is there anything wrong with your father requesting white wine?” Nico asked, trying to gauge her girlfriend’s reaction.

“I don’t believe so.” Maki shook her head. “White is better paired with seafood, after all.”

“Yes, but…?”

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Maki shook her head again. “Cloudy Bay is actually one of Papa’s favorites. He’s quite fond of the New Zealand area in general.”

“One of his favorites? That’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

“I hope so.”

Nico took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released it slowly. “Well, the salad is apparently ready, so we may as well get to it.”

Maki nodded before taking Nico’s hand once more to complete their journey to the dining room. Nico noted, thankfully, that her girlfriend’s grip was far more relaxed this time around.

Upon arrival, the couple was greeted by the Nishikino estate manager who showed them to their seats. Shortly thereafter, Maki’s parents arrived and took their own seats. Next the chef and her assistant from before arrived with the first course. Finally, the first bottle of wine was uncorked and the meal was underway.

“So, Yazawa-san,” Dr. Nishikino stated, drawing Nico’s attention “you’ve known Maki since high school, am I correct?”

“Yes.” Nico affirmed. “It was Maki-chan’s first year and my third.”

“I see. And were you one of the girls who helped convince her to become an idol?”

Well, that didn’t take long for the subject to come up. Nico thought to herself. Straight to the point, I guess, unlike a certain dishonest daughter of his…

“Actually, it was the other way around.” Nico replied.

“Oh?”

“I was in a disillusioned and jaded state back then, after my first attempt at forming a group fell through.” Nico admitted. “And it was Honoka and Maki-chan and the others that pulled me out of my funk and helped me remember why I adored idols so much and wanted so desperately to be one.” She couldn’t help smiling as fond memories flooded her mind. “I really do owe them all a debt of gratitude for that.”

“I see. And you are still an idol now?”

“Part time.” Nico nodded. “I was able to find a small production company that was willing to work around my classes. It fills up my schedule and keeps me busy, but also lets me keep my foot in the door.”

“Because you intend to go full time even once you’ve earned a degree?”

Nico wasn’t particularly fond of the wording of the question and had to resist the urge to call it out; had it been Maki and they were in a more casual setting, she likely would have done so.

“I do.” She said aloud instead. “And once I retire from being an idol, the degree will help me find other employment.”

“And what type of employment might that be?”

“Something still in the industry, if possible.” Out of the corner of her eye, Nico caught a suppressed expression of surprise on her girlfriend’s face. Understandable, as it was news to Maki as well. “Choreographer, trainer, costume design, heck maybe even a producer, someday. Basically, I’d like to pay forward my debt by helping the next generations of idols.”

“And one is able to earn a living in such an industry?”

“Others have before me; I believe I can as well.” Nico gave another glance to the redhead beside her. “I may not have the skills to become a life-saving doctor like Maki, but I can still do my part to make the world a better place; one smile at a time.”

“Medicine, law, business, engineering,” Maki’s mother suddenly spoke up “these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.” She smiled at Nico. “I believe Mr. Keating’s words hold true for many things. Music, painting, writing, really the arts as a whole are what make life worth living.”

“Mr. Keating?” Nico inquired.

“The lead character of Dead Poets Society.” Maki responded. “We should watch it sometime, Nico-chan; it’s really good.”

“And it is because the arts are so important” Dr. Nishikino continued “that my husband and I strive to support them as much as possible. In fact, we will be attending a performance of The Barber of Seville late next month and have not even started sending out invites to fill our box. You two are more than welcome to join us.”

At this, Maki’s eyes lit up. “Next month? When?”

“I’ll message you the dates later, but it’s a weekend so you should be able to work it into your study schedule.”

Maki turned to Nico with an expression rivaling the one she wore when December started. “Do you want to come with me?”

Nico smiled at her girlfriend’s excitement and word choice. “I’d love to. But where have I heard that title before?”

“From my playlist.”

“Tchaikovsky?” Nico made sure to pronounce the name as correctly as she could.

Maki shook her head. “Rossini.”

Nico racked her memory. “Cinderella?”

“Yes, different opera, same composer.”

“One smile at a time, you said?” Maki’s father suddenly stated.

“Oh, yeah.” Nico recalled her words from a few minutes ago.

The barest hint of something tugged at the edges of Dr. Nishikino’s lips. “Well, if nothing else, you have succeeded in making my daughter smile.” He nodded toward Maki, directing Nico’s attention back to the mentioned reaction. “And as my wife and I can attest, that is not always the easiest of tasks.”

“… P-Papa…” Maki offered a mild protest as pink dusted her cheeks and her mother chuckled.

Nico couldn’t help a smile of her own as she turned back to Maki’s father. “I think I’m up to the challenge.”

“Indeed.”

Wait… wasn’t this a bit hypocritical? Nico suddenly thought. Why claim to be a patron of the arts while simultaneously disallowing one’s daughter from being an artist?

On occasion, Maki had bemoaned being railroaded into the medical career while her dreams of being a professional pianist were dismissed as a passing fancy. Yet she hadn’t acknowledged the contradiction. Was she even aware of it? With the level of reverence Maki held for her parents, Nico could easily imagine her remaining oblivious; well, that and Maki’s overall naivete in many aspects of life.

Should she tell her? Was it even Nico’s place say such a thing? Nico was no stranger to speaking her mind when it came to her own interests, or those of her siblings. And she was dating Maki now, which meant defending her girlfriend’s best interests also shouldn’t surprise anyone. Or at least what she believed to be Maki’s best interests, as her parents obviously felt differently.

“On a related topic, Yazawa-san, Maki has told us much about your shared love of music.” Dr. Nishikino continued.

Nico derailed her own train of thought and refocused her attention on the conversation at hand. “It is one of our favorite subjects to discuss… or argue over.”

“And you often listen together while studying.”

“I believe music helps keep us in a good mood, which then helps us study.” Nico explained.

“I think we can all attest to the positive effects of music.” The Nishikino matriarch said.

“Indeed.” Her husband agreed.

“And Maki-chan has helped expand my appreciation of other genres of music.” Nico turned to her girlfriend. “And I’d like to think I’ve expanded hers as well.”

Maki nodded an affirmation with a smile.

“Maki also has told us that she often helps you study.”

“She does.” Nico confirmed. “Maki is incredibly smart. Even if she doesn’t know the answer to a problem, she is often able to logic things through and help guide me in the right direction. Honestly, if I didn’t already know she was going to be a doctor, I’d’ve suggested she become a teacher.”

“Now that would be an interesting career choice.” Maki’s mother said thoughtfully.

“Hrm…” Her father seemed less than convinced. “So, do you help her study in return?”

“Well…” Nico started.

“Nico-chan helps in other ways, Papa.” Maki offered. “Even if she isn’t able to help me with a given topic, she helps ensure I take regular breaks so I can come back with better focus. She makes sure I’m hydrated and helps track my nutrition and is quite insistent on keeping a decent sleep schedule. Honestly, she’s better at taking care of me than I am.” Her eyes widened as her admission registered in her mind.

“That’s right,” Her mother continued with the thoughtfulness from earlier, though Nico was sure she detected some teasing undertones “wasn’t it Nico that saved Maki from herself back on her birthday?”

“Mama…” Maki was losing a battle in trying to keep down another blush.

“Maki is very diligent in her studies.” Nico stated. “And I’m happy to help where I can.”

“Hmm… sounds like another couple we know, right Dear?” Dr. Nishikino sent a sly smile toward her husband, the teasing more obvious now.

“… Perhaps.” Maki’s father conceded.

Was it Nico’s imagination or did she just catch another glimpse into the source of some of Maki’s behavior? The Nishikino patriarch wasn’t the easiest to read behind his stoic mask, but his daughter wasn’t always straightforward with her emotions either and Nico had figured her out fairly well by this point.

As far as Nico was concerned, the rest of dinner went quite smoothly. Once Maki’s father got past his initial questions, he remained mostly quite. It ended up being Nico and Maki’s mother carrying the bulk of the conversations, which honestly didn’t really surprise Nico all that much. Maki’s mother inquired about Nico’s family, though Nico suspected she already knew most of the things anyway and it was more for Maki’s father’s sake. Still, Nico wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to brag about her amazing siblings and about how proud of them she was in taking care of the household and themselves in her absence.

After dinner, Maki’s parents excused themselves to finish up the day’s emails and paperwork. Nico couldn’t help but wonder if that would be something Maki would end up doing once she became more involved with the hospital administrative duties.

As for Nico herself, she joined Maki in the Nishikino music room for the previously promised private concert. There, she had happily settled into the best seat in the house, next her girlfriend on the bench. All in all, it was a wonderful conclusion to what she believed to be a wonderful night. However, as confident as she was, she still wanted to be sure, so she made a mental note to ask the one she believed would know best, or at least better than herself.

“So, how did I do?” Nico asked, once she was sure they were well beyond earshot of anyone even remotely associated with the Nishikino residence.

“You were perfect, Nico-chan.” Maki responded with a smile that sent a warm feeling through Nico’s chest. “I think Papa likes you and is fine with us dating, and we already know how Mama feels.”

Thank the gods… Nico thought with relief. And with that load off her mind, “Of course I was perfect,” she decided to get in some teasing of her own, after spending the evening watching Dr. Nishikino do so “Nico is always perfect.” She grinned and held up her signature gesture.

“Id…” Maki’s typical retort was interrupted by a yawn.

Nico laughed before continuing the tradition. “You love it.”

“… Maybe…” Maki managed to get out as her energy seemed to be leaving her rapidly.

Nico leaned her shoulder into her girlfriend. “Steady there, Maki-chan, you going to be alright getting back to your dormroom?”

“Eh? But, I thought…”

“You thought…?”

“I thought I was going to your place?”

“Well you can, obviously you’re always welcome, but…” Nico motioned to Maki’s outfit, taking the moment to enjoy the view as well “I figured since you don’t have a change of clothes, you wouldn’t want to put this back on in the morning.”

“It’s fine…” Maki stifled another yawn. “I just want to go home…” She blinked and shook her head. “I mean your home… Yours… yours and Nozomi’s, I mean… ueeehhh…”

Nico chuckled. “It’s your home too, Maki-chan.” By the gods did she want to kiss the redhead whose cheeks were now matching her hair, but even this late at night, there was a risk of being seen. Later. She promised herself. “Nozomi and my names may be on the lease,” she said instead “but that doesn’t make it any less home to you or Eli.”

“T-thank you…”

“You don’t have to thank me for that; that much is normal for couples, right? But you know, Eli does leave a lot of stuff in Nozomi’s room…” Nico thought aloud “perhaps I should clear out a drawer and make some room in the closet for you.”

“I’d like that.” Maki smiled. “I’ll be sure to bring some stuff over soon.”

“Good. For tonight, you can borrow your usual sleep shirt and we’ll figure out something else in the morning. I think the outfit I lent you the other day is clean, but if not, maybe Nozomi has something that will fit you.”

Maki nodded.

“Then it’s settled.” Nico took Maki’s hand as they boarded the train together. “Let’s go home.”

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

#NicoMaki #Nishikino Maki #Yazawa Nico #How to Handle a Nico #Love Live #fanfic

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agentdagonet · 5 years ago

Note

Still taking prompts?? Eggsy disappears every Friday night when he’s not on a mission and Harry (or Merlin) wants to know where he goes. He follows Eggsy to a pub that has dueling pianos. Turns out Eggsy is one of the pianists, and one of the favorites

So sorry for the wait! I promise that I am working on every prompt you all have sent to me. Than you for giving this chaotic and crazy time some meaning :)

So, @fandomrulesmylife fair warning, I have been to one (1) piano bar ever, and it was years ago, and I kind of just wrote whatever sounded like fun to me. I hope you like it!!

‘You do realise that I could have solved this mystery in minutes if you’d bother to give me the go ahead.’ Merlin grumbled, the sound of keys echoing behind.

‘Now where’s the fun in that?’ Harry smirked, unseen through the glasses feed, as he sat reading at a park bench.

‘You’re lucky I respect his privacy.’

‘Are you suggesting that I don’t?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well bully for you,’ Harry closed the book and placed it on the bench, ‘but I’m going to do this the old fashioned way.’

‘That’s a fancy way to say “I’m going to stalk my protege that I’m half in love with” Hart.’ However, Merlin continued to be on the line. He was silent for the few minutes of Harry meandering down the path before speaking up again. ‘Why didn’t you just ask him?’

‘Ah,’ Harry gasped, as if struck by a brilliant idea, ‘of course! Just ask him why, when he gets back to home soil, he disappears on Friday nights and comes home smelling of cigarettes and liquor. That doesn’t sound like the plot to a shitty sitcom at all, no, especially once you factor in my… affections.’

‘And, somehow, you believe that literally following him around would be better?’

‘Don’t you know,’ Harry spotted Eggsy down the way, ‘I live for the Drama.’

Eggsy didn’t quite run down the road, and nor did he parkour down alleys or otherwise draw attention to himself, but he did move at a fast pace and glance down at his wrist (since when did he wear a watch outside of Kingsman?) before cursing beneath his breath and continuing on. He was wearing his street clothes, black and gold and his Kingsman medal glinting in the lamplight, and Harry couldn’t help but admire the cut of him. Despite every change, and every improvement, Eggsy had managed to keep this piece of himself whole. It wasn’t a facade, or a costume, Eggsy was just as comfortable here in his element as he was on a mission in a full Kingsman suit, and of all things Harry found his confidence the most alluring.

Harry was so distracted by watching him hurry down the kerb that he nearly missed his window to follow unseen.

Eggsy made his way past the Prince and down a side street that Harry regularly ignored, due to being incredibly bland looking, before ducking into a door clearly marked ‘Staff Only.’

Harry would claim to have waited an appropriate amount of time, but Merlin would call him a liar. The truth was that Merlin gave him the route to the front of the establishment so he could enter as an average client to-

‘Show, Don’t Tell? The fuck is he doing there?’ Merlin muttered, obviously knowing more about the business than Harry, as he made his way through the throng of people. At one end of the dimly-lit room sat a pair of obnoxiously coloured upright pianos, the other was dominated by a bar, and the entire space between was filled with tables obviously designed for patrons to stand at as opposed to sit. The floor seemed to be at a partial decline, as he was able to see both instruments clearly despite there being very little room to move in the first place.

‘You hear he’s back?’

‘It’s been nearly a month this time- I wonder where he goes.’

Well that’s interesting. Harry allowed his gaze to flit about the room as he eavesdropped. Eggsy’s been in Uruguay nearly that long.

‘Honestly, though- he shows up, he out classes everyone they put in front of him, has a pint, and then he disappears again. He’s an enigma.’

‘Bloke’s allowed his secrets!’

‘I don’ need t’know his name or where he lives to know he’s talented as fuck and wasted wherever he’s workin’ at.’

The lights dimmed further, and suddenly the crowd was hushing each other like children. There were still murmurs, the underlying white noise of conversation that pervaded any public space, but the vast majority of the chatter had stopped immediately.

‘Good evening everybody- normally we would have an introduction here, as you all know, but with the surprise return of our beloved and the presence of his arch nemesis,’ the audience chuckled, and Harry couldn’t help but wonder as to the story there, ‘we figured we’d just jump into this. You lot know the rules- jars at the front, cast your votes and your requests and you might just get lucky!’ Harry caught sight of the stacks of paper, set up almost like a silent auction, at a table near the front of the collective of tables.

‘Excuse me?’ Harry leant toward the nearest table, honestly confused if playing it up a bit, ‘I’m afraid I’ve never been here before- what are we supposed to do?’

‘You’re in for a treat, then- we’re glad to have ya,’ A man with dark hair and green eyes said, and offered his hand, ‘y’see where those people are crowded up now? You go up to the front an’ write down ‘n artist or somethin’ and you put a number next to it, an’ then put just the number on the other sheet. Any number. One of the players looks at the number sheet an’ picks, an’ the other’s got to play whatever they picked.

‘It’s a bit complicated- suggest watchin’ for a bit first- but there’s no real risk.’ The man shrugged, and Harry mulled it over in his head.

‘That sounds so convoluted- I want a dozen.’ Merlin chimed in, and Harry settled for saluting his glasses under the pretext of examining his cuticles in the nearly-nonexistent light.

‘Is there a goal?’ Harry asked.

‘Have a good time! The audience chooses who had the most fun and they get a ribbon.’ A woman with tight curls and a bright smile answered before turning back toward the stage. The last of the chatter died down, and a set of lights turned on above the pianos.

‘Let’s hear it for Rhys!’ Harry watched as an older gentleman did no less than swagger toward the piano on the left before standing in front of it. ‘And on our right is our beloved Giacomo!’

Eggsy walked out, jacket swung over one shoulder like a model, and tossed it carelessly onto the bench. Harry’s mouth went dry at the smirk on his lips and the complete surety in his gaze as he looked over the audience like a king surveying his people. Harry fought not to look guilty for being in the audience, and tucked himself partially behind some seemingly regular patrons as Eggsy’s gaze neared.

‘Rhys has generously offered the opening number to Giacomo this evening- is he trying to curry some favour?’ The audience laughed, but Rhys raised a hand and they went silent.

‘It’s a welcome home present- even picked an old favourite!’ Rhys smirked, and that was certainly a code for something as people began shoving one another in seeming excitement. ‘Hope you warmed up on the way here, mate- give us your best Elton.’

As Rhys had been speaking, Eggsy had settled himself at his piano, rolled his neck and stretched his arms in an arc Harry longed to trace with his fingertips.

‘Y’know, mate, let me tell you somethin’, I couldn’t’ve chosen better myself,’ Eggsy grinned, and looked straight at Harry, ‘This one’s for Haz,’ Eggsy winked, Harry flushed to the tips of his ears, and the audience went wild as Eggsy burst into motion.

It’s getting late have you seen my matesMa tell me when the boys get here

‘Seems you got away with stalking this time, Galahad.’

Taking prompts!

#dagonet writes #piano bars #eggsy is amazing #having a good time #fandomrulesmylife

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